Ishmael Reed - Mumbo Jumbo

I don’t believe a word of it. You made the whole thing up. If Hinckle Von Vampton was paying the men to keep the manuscript moving who would have been so foolish as to give it to Abdul?

Yes, Von Vampton speaks up forcefully, explain that 1 will you…

And besides, Hank Rollings continues, according to your story Hinckle Von Vampton and Gould would be a 1000 years old.

Hinckle and Hubert “Safecracker” Gould smile nervously.

They are, Black Herman says. Hinckle and his cohort Gould, an original member of the 9 Knights, learned to cheat death. They never revealed this even to their leader; it’s an Arab formula they learned.

Why, who would believe such nonsense; it’s the silliest, most fatuous thing I ever heard!

Listen folks. I’m the easiest guy in town to get along with, Hinckle says, turning to the guests. I just brought “Safecracker” Gould up here in blackface because I wanted to introduce the new Coon musical he is writing. The name of which will be Harlem Tom Toms. Those of you who are media people understand the benefits of promotion, don’t you? An ancient manuscript being sent around in circles. Absurd…who would have given it to Abdul in the 1st place.

I did.

The crowd turns to…to…Buddy Jackson!!

Jackson makes his way to the front of the crowd.

I was known on your list as Willie B. Johnson. I never met you but each month I received your checks which I gave to widow women and children who had no shoes. You see I am the Grand Master of the Boyer Grand Lodge #1 inaugurated March 18, 1845, by the Prince Hall Grand Lodge or African Lodge #1 chartered in 1776 by the Duke of Cumberland, Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of England. I am a representative of the United Brothers of Friendship, Sisters of the Mysterious 10, Daughters of the Prairie of the Benevolent Protective Herd of Buffaloes of the World, United Order of the Fisherman of Galilee of the Eastern and Western Hemispheres; I am a delegate from the Eastern Star, Grand Fountain Order of True Reformers and a troubleshooter for the locals: Crystal Fount, Rose of Sharon, Lily of the Valley, Good Intent, Ark of Safety, Neversink, Hand in Hand, Gassaway, Rising Star of the East and Mount Pisgah…at your service, Buddy says bowing, removing his checked-cloth cap and cigar.

Smiling, Black Herman, PaPa LaBas and Buddy Jackson exchange the ancient Black handshake, the vulva embracing the phallus.

But you’re nothing but a cheap hoodlum, a brown-skinned society matron covered with foxskins shouted arnchy from the rear.

Shut up you, Black Herman reprimands the woman, now embarrassed and shaking all over.

Permit me to introduce my Deputy Grand Warden, Junior Grand Warden, Grand Treasurer and Grand Secretary. Several men step forward, 2 of them the 1s who had abandoned their wigs in front of the Plantation Club the night Schlitz the “Sarge of Yorktown” got his.

But how did you become interested in the case, Buddy? LaBas asks.

The Caucasian lodges downtown didn’t want anything to do with us. They refused to recognize our lodges even though we had been chartered by Prince Hall who in turn was chartered by England. We didn’t want to be around them anyway; at least most of us didn’t. When our New York lodge requested a state charter they refused on grounds that we were “illegitimate.” They kept pulling this “exclusive territorial jurisdiction” business on us which means that there can only be 1 lodge in a state — their lodge. If this were true most of their lodges would be illegitimate and as a matter of fact according to Masonic scholars they are. They had 1 of their people, General Albert Pike, term us “inferior brutes” in a tract he authored entitled “Morals and Dogma” and in Appendix 1 of the 1899 proceedings of the Grand Lodge of Illinois we were called “ignorant, uneducated, immoral and untruthful.” We broke away from their National Compact, a document of questionable repute, and we changed our name from General Boyer Lodge named for a Haitian General to the United Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons. We still wondered why they kept up their assault even when we made it plain that we didn’t want anything to do with them. We decided to run their Caucasian lodge members out of Harlem. The members included everyone from Schlitz the “Sarge of Yorktown” to the Police Commissioner.

We felt that if we could run our own lodges, which involved bookkeeping, rules and regulations, that we could run our own businesses. But still the vicious campaign against us continued unmitigated. So you know what we did?

What, PaPa LaBas asks, keeping the pistol on Hinckle and “Safecracker” Gould, the grease paint now commingled with the sweat of Gould’s perspiring face.

We had some of our light-skinned brothers. You know, some of those invisible legions which extend all the way to the highest offices in the land. The loyal Blacks who are passing for White; soldiers of our 5th column that George Schuyler writes about — Prince Hall, the founder of the African Lodge #1, resembled a White man himself…well anyway we had the fair mulatto brothers infiltrate their Caucasian lodges and then we found out why they didn’t want us around and didn’t want us fooling with Masonry and naming our lodges Temple of Solomon so and so.

We found out about this Knights Templar, a Grand Master who had entered the country in 1890, and how he shunned them when they invited him to be with them because he looked down upon their knowledge of The Work. We learned what we always suspected, that the Masonic mysteries were of a Blacker origin than we thought and that this man had in his possession a Black sacred Book and how they were worried that we would find out and wouldn’t learn that the reason they wanted us out of the mysteries was because they were our mysteries! Get to that. They were accusing us of trespassing upon our own property. We didn’t care actually. We had invented our own texts and slang which are subject to the ridicule of their scholars who nevertheless always seem to want to hang out around us and come to our meetings and poke into our ceremonies. The Charter of the Daughters of the Eastern Star as you know is written in our mystery language which they call slang or dialect. 1 of the brothers told us 1 night that even the Catholic Mass was based upon a Black Egyptian celebration. Well, when they kind of suspected that we knew what was going on, they sent in the Sarge of Yorktown and his boys to do their Dirty Work. To get rid of me and my officers. It may have looked like a gang war but in reality it was a struggle between who were in the Know. The White man will never admit his real references. He will steal everything you have and still call you those names. He will drag out standards and talk about propriety. You can imagine my surprise when the Book came to me with Hinckle’s instructions. I decided to play along, sending it around for 14 times and accepting his fee, but on the 15th round I learned that Abdul knew the Egyptian writing and I gave it to him.

Much of the party by now is sitting on the steps leading to the upper bedrooms. Some have returned to another room where they are dancing. Others listen intently.

I am still skeptical, the Guianese art critic says. It could still be a trick. If you have the Book let us see it.

The others join in a chorus, requesting that LaBas show them the Book he found beneath the center of the Cotton Club’s dance floor.

Why certainly, PaPa LaBas answers. Herman, while I watch these 2 culprits will you please go and get…

His gangly assistant T Malice rushes into the room—

PAPA LABAS! BLACK HERMAN! Jes Grew is dissolved! It’s all on the radio.

What! PaPa LaBas turns to Black Herman.

Aha! exclaims the Guianese art critic. That proves that your premise is not based upon sound empirical fact, he says, arching even the British accent. In times of social turbulence men like you always abandon reason and fall back upon Mumbo Jumbo. For if this Jes Grew delusion of yours was seeking its Work as you so crudely put it, and you were in possession of The Work then why has it fallen flat on its face? Answer that one!