Chester Himes - If he hollers let him go

She must have caught it in that instant before I got it under control, for she blushed, and before she cut it off she showed me it was there. Then she smiled complacently and said, 'Thank you, darling. You look very nice yourself.' In her best social worker's voice. Everything went. It really and truly let me down.

'We're certainly going to be the people if we keep on trying,' I said. 'Either that or some reasonable facsimiles.'

Neither of them got it and I let it go. 'We were just talking about the Negro problem, and I was telling your mother she was right,' I explained as Alice came across the room and perched on the arm of my chair. 'I got a drink for you, honey,' I said, handing her the highball from the cocktail table.

Alice wasn't going to be concerned about the Negro problem. 'Mother, Loretta Fischer has bought a new mink coat,' she said as if positively shocked. 'I don't see how she does it.'

'I suppose Loretta will be the grand lady if William goes to Congress at ten thousand a year,' Mrs. Harrison said; then she turned to me. 'You know, Loretta's people never had anything and her mother worked in service to give her an education. Now that William is making a little money she's spending every penny.'

'I suppose she thinks that's what it's for,' I said absently, glancing at my watch. I patted Alice on her thigh. 'We're going to have to go, baby.'

'I think our people who're making money at this time should save it,' Mrs. Harrison said. 'That's all many of us are going to get out of it.'

'Some of us are going to get killed out of it,' I said.

Alice gave me a sharp look. 'You haven't been called, have you, Bob?' she asked.

'No, of course not,' I said too fast, then slowed up some. 'I don't think I'll be called.' I tapped the cocktail table. 'I'm knocking on wood anyway.'

'You won't be called,' Mrs. Harrison said. 'You're what they call a key man.'

'They better not calf him,' Alice said, brushing her fingers lightly down the back of my neck. 'Where are we going, darling?' she asked, standing up.

I grinned at her. 'It's still a secret.'

She made a face at me and ran upstairs after her wrap. Mrs. Harrison looked curious but didn't say anything. Alice returned with a black velvet cape and I held it for her, pressing her shoulders. Mrs. Harrison followed us to the door.

'You both look so nice, it's a pity you're not going to some inter-racial affair,' she said. 'I think now is the time we should make more social contacts with white people.'

'Oh, Mother, I don't want to always be running after white people whenever I go out anywhere,' Alice protested. 'I want to go slumming down on Central Avenue.'

'You sound just like the other white people,' I said to Alice.

Mrs. Harrison followed us out on the porch. 'You shouldn't feel that way about it,' she said to Alice. 'You should take pains to show them that you're not seeking their company, but you should seek more social association with them, I'm sure.'

'I'd really like to see how that's done,' I mumbled under my breath. Alice pinched me.

We said good-night and climbed into the car. At Western I leaned over and said, 'Kiss me, gorgeous.'

She touched my lips lightly with hers so as not to muss her make-up.

It was just turning dark when I pulled to the curb in front of the hotel. Alice clutched my arm and whispered, 'Oh, no, Bob, no! I don't feel like being refused. I'm not in the mood for it.'

'What the hell!' I said, startled. Some other girl, but not Alice; she was always going to some luncheon or dinner conference at the downtown hotels. Not so long before, one of the Negro weeklies had carried a picture of her knocking herself out down there with a bunch of city big shots. Then I got annoyed.

'You couldn't be getting cold feet after all the bragging you've been doing about never being refused at all the hotels you're supposed to've stayed in all over the world? What're you tryna do, make it light on me? You don't have to feel you got to look out for me. These folks don't worry me, not today.'

'It's not that,' she argued tensely. 'It's just that it's uncomfortable and it takes too much out of me.'

'I got reservations,' I said. 'You don't think I'm taking you in cold.'

'It isn't that,' she tried again. 'It just takes an effort, Bob, and I wanted to let my hair down and have some fun.'

I was getting sore. 'You seem to have enough fun with the other people you go here with. Scared because you haven't got the white folks to cover you?'

'Shhhh!' she cautioned under her breath. 'Here comes the doorman.'

'Goddamn, let him come!' I said. 'Am I supposed to shut up for the help?' I knew I was being loud-mouthed but she'd shaken my poise and I was trying to get it back.

A big, paunched man in a powder-blue uniform with enough gold braid for an admiral and a face like a red-stained rock put a white-gloved hand on the car door and pulled it open. He helped Alice to the curb, touched my elbow as I followed her.

' 'Tis a lovely evening,' he said in a rich Irish brogue. His small blue eyes were blank.

'Fine,' I echoed, giving Alice my arm. 'I'll pick the car up after dinner.'

He didn't bat an eye. Beckoning to his assistant, a tall, sallow-faced youth in the same kind of uniform, he said, 'Park the gentleman's car,' then walked with us to the glass door and held it open. That went off all right.

But when we mounted the red-carpeted stairs and stepped into the full view of the lobby we brought on a yellow alert. The place was filled with solid white America: rich-looking, elderly couples, probably retired; the still active executive type in their forties and fifties, faces too red and hair too thin, clad in expensive suits which didn't hide their paunches, mostly with wives who refused to give up; and the younger folks no more than half of whom were in uniform, with their brittle young women with rouge-scarred mouths and hard, hunting eyes. There was a group of elderly Army officers, a brigadier-general, two colonels, and a major; and apart from them a group of young naval officers looking very white-ensigns perhaps. I didn't see but one Jew I recognized as a Jew, and nobody of any other race at all. And I only noticed a few couples in evening dress.

It seemed that to a person everyone froze. It started at the front where we were first noticed, and ran the length and breadth of the room, including the room clerks, the porters, the bellmen, the people behind desks. Many were caught in awkward positions, some in the middle of a gesture, some with their mouths half open. Then suddenly there was a concerted effort to ignore us and only a few continued to stare.

'The great white world,' I said flippantly, leaning slightly toward Alice as we walked the gauntlet of the room. 'Strictly D-Day. Now I know how a fly feels in a glass of buttermilk.'

She moved like a sleepwalker, her nails biting into my arm as she clung to it. Her shoulders were high, square, stiff, and her face was set in rigid lines, making her seem a hard, harried thirty. She didn't speak.

'Relax, baby,' I said as we passed a group of middle-aged people. 'I'll show 'em my shipyard badge and if that don't help, all they can do is lynch us.' I didn't try to keep my voice lowered and the people must have heard; they drew away as we passed.

Alice blushed a deep dull red, but some of the stiffness left her. 'You don't have to prove it,' she said. 'They expect you to be a clown anyway.'

'Well anyway, I'm running true to form,' I said. We were both just making words.

Looking up, I caught a young captain's eye. He didn't turn away when our gazes met; he didn't change expression; he just watched us with the intent stare of the analyst.

The head waiter came quickly up the four steps from the dining-room with bleak eyes and a painted smile. He was a slight, round-faced man with a short sharp nose and thin, plastered hair. 'We are sorry, but all the tables are reserved,' he greeted us blandly in a high, careful voice.