No Crystal Stair (23 page)

Happy? Ann Elizabeth was miserable.

It wasn't only the obscenities scrawled on their garage door, the eggs splattered against the windows—not even the cross someone had burned with some kind of acid right in the center of their new lawn. Nothing would grow over the spot. They'd
called in a gardener, but so far had found nothing to erase that insignia that stated so clearly, “You are not wanted.”

What bothered her more than anything else was the isolation. No friendly greetings, no coffee klatches, no place to borrow a cup of sugar. Except for the obscenities under cover of night, they were completely ignored.

No, that wasn't quite true. Old Mrs. Levin next door had become a friend. Maybe because Rob had changed her tire that morning he found her staring helplessly at the flat on the left rear wheel. The next day she'd come over with cookies, a welcoming committee of one. Perhaps, Ann Elizabeth thought, Mrs. Levin was also lonely in this bustling youthful community. She was a pale wisp of a woman, with gray hair and spectacles, hands crippled with arthritis. She lived with her divorced son, who was a traveling salesman and seldom at home. Ann Elizabeth was grateful to Mrs. Levin and really like her. She knew it was difficult for the old woman to shop and always checked to see if she needed anything when she did her own shopping. Now, as she placed the flowers on the table, she was glad she'd bought a bunch for Mrs. Levin, too. She'd seemed so pleased.

But one crippled old lady was no company for two active children. That was what worried Ann Elizabeth most. The children. She was glad she'd let Bobby, then fifteen, go to Atlanta to live with her mother.

“Will hasn't been feeling so well,”Julia Belle had said. “And Bobby always perks him up. He can attend University High. He's had so many visits here that he knows most of the kids, and it'll be good for him as well as Will.

Dear God, how glad she was she'd let him go. Bobby was a friendly outgoing boy and she wanted him to stay that way. She certainly didn't want him having to deal with bigotry all through high school. She wasn't going to let happy bouncy six-year-old Maggie be hurt, either. So far, she'd been able to
protect her from the isolation of this community, driving her almost every day to play with the children of friends, who, like most Negroes lived near the Negro college. Maggie was at the Slaters' now.

It was at the Slaters'that the subject of schools had first come up. “Where are you going to send Maggie to school?” Jennie Lou had asked.

“Good Shepard,” Ann Elizabeth answered. “You said it's a good school.”

“Oh, it is, Tony loves it and the tuition's not bad. But you're so far away.”

“Yes, I'll have to drive her in every day.” If Rob couldn't commute, she could, Ann Elizabeth had decided.

“Long drive,” was Allen Slater's comment.

“Worth it,” was Ann Elizabeth's quick reply. “She's already met many of the kids.”

Rob had been strangely silent. But on the way home he said, “Honey, don't you think it's rather foolish to drive Maggie all that distance when we have a brand-new school just two blocks from us?”

Ann Elizabeth glanced at the backseat. The exhausted Maggie was fast asleep. She turned to Rob. “You don't mean we should send her to the white school?”

“The neighborhood school.”

“Same thing.
Their
school.”

“Ours.
We pay taxes.”

Ann Elizabeth looked at him, shocked. Surely he wasn't going to saddle the children with his “first-class” obsession! “Robert Metcalf, I will never, and I want you to understand this, I will never let Maggie be exposed to the kind of treatment she would receive at that school.”

“You're against integrated schools?”

“It's what
they've
got against us that concerns me. Look what's happening all over the country. In Little Rock—”

“They integrated, didn't they?”

“With all that rioting and having to call in troops! I tell you I will
not
let Maggie—”

“It won't be like that. They brought in a whole bunch of kids at once. There'll probably be no fuss at all about one little Negro child in first grade. They wouldn't—”

“You don't
know
what they'd do! And I won't listen! All right we moved to this neighborhood where I didn't want to be in the first place. But I don't have to send my child to school here.”

“This is where we live.”

“You call this living?”

“Listen, Ann Elizabeth, we've only been here a few months. You have to give people a chance.”

“They've had a chance to throw eggs and burn that cross—”

“Just some rabble-rousers! Could be one person.”

“The point is, Rob, you don't know who or how many.”

“Look, honey, it's like my job. I know they didn't want me at first, but when they got to know me ... I'm not resented. I'm respected, yes, even liked in some cases. I'm part of a team.”

She reached over to touch his hand tenderly. “I know that. All you've done, this promotion, was quite an accomplishment. Don't think I'm not proud of you.”

“But what does it mean if I can't share it with my family? If the money I make can't provide a good home, a good school for my kids, what good is it?”

“I know, Rob. And I do appreciate what you do for us, the... things. I love the house. I really do. It's just... well you're a man. An adult. You can take it. I can take it. We can wait for people to get to know us. But Maggie's just a little girl. I want her first day at school to be happy. I don't want her hurt?”

“Do you think I do?”

“No, of course not. But—”

“I've got to think of her whole life, Ann Elizabeth. Not just one day. I'll never forget that Jewish doctor in Germany.”

“Oh, Rob, no! Spare me the don't-let-it-happen-to-you speech! We're not talking about concentration camps. We're talking about a little girl starting school.”

But Rob had become reflective and withdrawn. “He said it happens a little bit at a time. They take you out of the schools ... Hell, we just got in the schools! What's the point of the Supreme Court decision if nobody integrates?”

That was their first argument on the subject. But not their last.

She didn't understand why Rob felt so strongly about this. Bobby was safe in Atlanta, thank God. And she meant to enroll Maggie at the Catholic school near Jennie Lou.

Ann Elizabeth went into the family room and picked up a magazine. The jangle of the doorbell made her jump. There was always that prickle of apprehension every time a bell sounded in this silent house. She went to the door and squinted through the peephole. A white woman in a green shift was standing on the threshold. Another friendly neighbor? No. A car, probably hers, was parked out front and she carried a purse, not cookies or flowers. A saleslady?

Anyway, she looked harmless. Ann Elizabeth opened the door.

“Mrs. Metcalf? The woman tossed back a mane of blond hair and smiled.

“Yes.”

“I'm Marcia Wheeling and I'd like very much to talk with you. May I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” Rather puzzled, Ann Elizabeth stepped back to admit her. She wasn't puzzled for long.

As soon as she was seated on the living-room sofa, Marcia Wheeling came to the point. “I want to talk to you about the possibility of enrolling your daughter in the Lansberg elementary school. I've already talked with your husband.”

“Oh?” Ann Elizabeth sat up. When had she talked to Rob?

“Otis Pitts, president of the local chapter of the NAACP, brought him out to meet with me. Otis knows of my interest and experience in integrating schools.”

“I see.” And I see that my husband's been babbling to the NAACP and you and God knows who else about what concerns only me and him.

“I understand you're reluctant to send your daughter to school in this area.”

“Yes.”

“But don't you see? Your position is unique. You're not crossing district boundaries. You live in this area. And Robert is anxious to test the new ruling.”

Robert? Ann Elizabeth felt a flash of resentment. Just how well does this woman know Rob?

Marcia Wheeling leaned toward her and spoke persuasively. “Surely you want to support your husband.”

“In this case I must think of my child.”Ann Elizabeth smiled, trying to mask her animosity. The woman meant well. “This will be her first day of real school. She's very excited and I don't want it to be a day of upheaval for her.”

“I understand how you feel.”

“Do you?” She wondered if Marcia Wheeling had children of her own. She glanced at her left hand. No wedding ring.

“Yes.” Marcia brushed back a strand of hair. “I've been through this before.”

“Here?”

“No. When I was living with my husband in Kansas. After the Supreme Court decision, I became aware of the appalling inadequacy of most of the Negro schools. I immediately joined the effort to integrate the schools and bridge the gap.”

Ann Elizabeth heard the sincerity in her voice, the dedication, and felt a surge of admiration. “Could I offer you some refreshment? Tea, perhaps?”

“Oh, that would be nice.”

As they sipped iced tea and munched on cheese and crackers, Marcia talked about her work. She described the situation in Kansas City—a small replica of the Little Rock episode, one of many such skirmishes being fought all over the country. The woman has courage, she thought, and perhaps that's what makes her... well, not beautiful, but attractive, with all that zeal and energy sparkling in those eyes. Arresting green eyes, as green as her dress.

“I think the hardest part was getting Negroes to cooperate.” Marcia Wheeling smiled ruefully. “We often had to plead and beg. That surprised me. It was as if they didn't realize what they were missing.”

“Perhaps they realized only too well what they were letting their children in for,” Ann Elizabeth suggested.

“Maybe. But do you know who the biggest stumbling blocks were?”

“Who?”

“People in the black middle class, especially teachers. So afraid of losing their jobs.”

“I can understand that.”

“Well, they weren't the only ones. Those who'd made it and could send their children to private school didn't want to participate. I read an article about the phenomenon recently by a Negro sociologist. He said those who've made it don't want to rock the boat. They've adopted the behavioral patterns of white America. As long as they can keep their good jobs, buy nice houses and cars, educate their children and—”

“Wait a minute!” Ann Elizabeth bristled. This kind of talk infuriated her. “Why are those virtues exclusive to whites?” she snapped. “Why is it that when a black man buys a nice house, a car and takes care of his family, he's emulating white men?'

“I didn't say it originally. I was only paraphrasing the article I read.”

“And why is it that everything a black man says about another black man has to be gospel?'

“Just a minute, Mrs. Metcalf. You're taking this all wrong. What I mean and what that Negro sociologist meant is that Negroes who
have
achieved often forget those who haven't.”

“In other words, a black man should either be wallowing in the ghetto or down there helping to pull his brother out!”

“No. I only mean that those who've made it have a certain responsibility to—”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for a black man to survive? To get a job, buy a house, feed his family? Then when he gets a little ahead, he's made to feel guilty for not bringing his brothers with him!”

“Mrs. Metcalf, you're twisting my words.”

“The words are not exclusively yours. They're the hue and cry of every disgruntled Negro. Another burden on the black men and women who've tried so hard and succeeded even slightly,”

“Oh please, Mrs. Metcalf. I didn't mean... Oh, I do know all this. That's why I want every school available to every child. And I know there are Negroes like your husband who are concerned about others of his race. I do so admire Robert. I know you can afford private school, and yet he's willing to send his child to—”

“He may be, but I'm not! I am not willing to have my child dragged through the kind of experience you've described.”

“But it won't be, don't you see? One little girl will hardly be noticed. Just quietly integrated into her neighborhood school.”

Ann Elizabeth stared at her. “You really believe that?”

“I do. And that will make it easier for others to follow. To integrate the school, the way you've integrated the neighborhood. Just living here, the example you set, will make it easier for another Negro to buy a house in Lansberg.”

Ann Elizabeth laughed. “Then I guess it's a good thing we don't brawl and have wild parties and break windows.”

“A darn good thing.” Marcia's laugh joined hers but her face sobered as she added softly, “Don't you see what it would mean to send your intelligent well-behaved daughter to school here?”

“I don't know about well-behaved. Maggie's a bit of a rebel. But she is intelligent, and most of all she's happy. And I want her to stay that way.”

Marcia Wheeling said she might be happy at the Lansberg school, too, and continued to urge Ann Elizabeth to try it.

But Ann Elizabeth was firm. “I know I can't wrap Maggie in a cocoon, shield her forever from life. But right now, just going into first grade is enough for a little girl. I want it to be a positive step for her.

“I know how you feel,” Marcia said, “and I'm sorry it has to be this way-one little girl, one little step. But don't you see? It would be such a big step for so many. It could open—”

“No.”Ann Elizabeth spoke with finality. “She doesn't have to do battle in the race war yet.”