XXVII
Beware of Women
‚ÄúI won‚Äôt permit it,‚Äù said Tempy. ‚ÄúI won‚Äôt stand for it. You‚Äôll have to mend your ways, young man! Spending your evenings in Windsor‚Äôs pool parlor and running the streets with a gang of common boys that have had no raising, that Jimmy Lane among them. I won‚Äôt stand for it while you stay in my house.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ But that‚Äôs not the worst of it. Mr.¬ÝPrentiss tells me you‚Äôve been getting to work late after school three times this week. And what have you been doing? O, don‚Äôt think I don‚Äôt know! I saw you with my own eyes yesterday walking home with that girl Pansetta Young!‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Well, I want you to understand that I won‚Äôt have it!‚Äù
“I didn’t walk home with her,” said Sandy. “I only go part way with her every day. She’s in my class in high school and we have to talk over our lessons. She’s the only colored kid in my class I have to talk to.”
“Lessons! Yes, I know it’s lessons,” said Tempy sarcastically. “If she were a girl of our own kind, it would be all right. I don’t see why you don’t associate more with the young people of the church. Marie Steward or Grace Mitchell are both nice girls and you don’t notice them. No, you have to take up with this Pansetta, whose mother works out all day, leaving her daughter to do as she chooses. Well, she’s not going to ruin you, after all I’ve done to try to make something out of you.”
‚ÄúBeware of women, son,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝSiles pontifically from his deep morris-chair. It was one of his few evenings home and Tempy had asked him to talk to her nephew, who had gotten beyond her control, for Sandy no longer remained in at night even when she expressly commanded it; and he no longer attended church regularly, but slept on Sunday mornings instead. He kept up his schoolwork, it was true, but he seemed to have lost all interest in acquiring the respectable bearing and attitude towards life that Tempy thought he should have. She bought him fine clothes and he went about with ruffians.
‚ÄúIn other words, he has been acting just like a nigger, Mr.¬ÝSiles!‚Äù she told her husband. ‚ÄúAnd he‚Äôs taken up with a girl who‚Äôs not of the best, to say the least, even if she does go to the high school. Mrs.¬ÝFrancis Cannon, who lives near her, tells me that this Pansetta has boys at her house all the time, and her mother is never at home until after dark. She‚Äôs a cook or something somewhere.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ A fine person for a nephew of ours to associate with, this Pansy daughter of hers!‚Äù
“Pansetta’s a nice girl,” said Sandy. “And she’s smart in school, too. She helps me get my Latin every day, and I might fail if she didn’t.”
‚ÄúHuh! It‚Äôs little help you need with your Latin, young man! Bring it here and I‚Äôll help you. I had Latin when I was in school. And certainly you don‚Äôt need to walk on the streets with her in order to study Latin, do you? First thing you know you‚Äôll be getting in trouble with her and she‚Äôll be having a baby‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI see I have to be plain‚ÅÝ‚Äîand whether it‚Äôs yours or not, she‚Äôll say it is. Common girls like that always want to marry a boy they think is going to amount to something‚ÅÝ‚Äîgoing to college and be somebody in the world. Besides, you‚Äôre from the Williams family and you‚Äôre good-looking! But I‚Äôm going to stop this affair right now.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ From now on you are to leave that girl alone, do you understand me? She‚Äôs dangerous!‚Äù
‚ÄúYes,‚Äù grunted Mr.¬ÝSiles. ‚ÄúShe‚Äôs dangerous.‚Äù
Angry and confused, Sandy left the room and went upstairs to bed, but he could not sleep. What right had they to talk that way about his friends? Besides, what did they mean about her being dangerous? About his getting in trouble with her? About her wanting to marry him because her mother was a cook and he was going to college?
A white boy in Sandy‚Äôs high-school class had ‚Äúgot in trouble‚Äù with an Italian girl and they had had to go to the juvenile court to fix it up, but it had been kept quiet. Even now Sandy couldn‚Äôt quite give an exact explanation of what getting in trouble with a girl meant. Did a girl have to have a baby just because a fellow walked home with her when he didn‚Äôt even go in? Pansetta had asked him into her house often, but he always had to go back uptown to work. He was due at work at four o‚Äôclock‚ÅÝ‚Äîbesides he knew it wasn‚Äôt quite correct to call on a young lady if her mother was not at home. But it wasn‚Äôt necessarily bad, was it? And how could a girl have a baby and say it was his if it wasn‚Äôt his? Why couldn‚Äôt he talk to his Aunt Tempy about such things and get a clear and simple answer instead of being given an old book like The Doors of Life that didn‚Äôt explain anything at all?
Pansetta hadn‚Äôt said a word to him about babies, or anything like that, but she let him kiss her once and hold her on his lap at Sadie Butler‚Äôs Christmas party. Gee, but she could kiss‚ÅÝ‚Äîand such a long time! He wouldn‚Äôt care if she did make him marry her, only he wanted to travel first. If his mother would send for him now, he would like to go to Chicago. His Aunt Tempy was too cranky, and too proper. She didn‚Äôt like any of his friends, and she hated the pool hall. But where else was there for a fellow to play? Who wanted to go to those high-toned people‚Äôs houses, like the Mitchells‚Äô, and look bored all the time while they put Caruso‚Äôs Italian records on their new victrola? Even if it was the finest victrola owned by a Negro in Stanton, as they always informed you, Sandy got tired of listening to records in a language that none of them understood.
“But this is opera!” they said. Well, maybe it was, but he thought that his father and Harriett used to sing better. And they sang nicer songs. One of them was:
Love, O love, O careless Love‚ÅÝ‚Äî
Goes to your head like wine!
‚ÄúAnd maybe I really am in love with Pansetta.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ But if she thinks she can fool me into marrying her before I‚Äôve travelled all around the world, like my father, she‚Äôs wrong,‚Äù Sandy thought. ‚ÄúShe can‚Äôt trick me, not this kid!‚Äù Then he was immediately sorry that he had allowed Tempy‚Äôs insinuations to influence his thoughts.
‚ÄúPretty, baby-faced Pansetta! Why, she wouldn‚Äôt try to trick anybody into anything. If she wanted me to love her, she‚Äôd let me, but she wouldn‚Äôt try to trick a fellow. She wouldn‚Äôt let me love her that way anyhow‚ÅÝ‚Äîlike Tempy meant. Gee, that was ugly of Aunt Tempy to say that!‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ But Buster said she would.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Aw, he always talked that way about girls! He said no women were any good‚ÅÝ‚Äîas if he knew! And Jimmy Lane said white women were worse than colored‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut all the boys who worked at hotels said that.‚Äù
Let ‚Äôem talk! Sandy liked Pansetta anyhow.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ But maybe his Aunt Tempy was right! Maybe he had better stop walking home with her. He didn‚Äôt want to ‚Äúget in trouble‚Äù and not be able to travel to Chicago some time, where his mother was. Maybe he could go to Chicago next summer if he began to save his money now. He wanted to see the big city, where the buildings were like towers, the trains ran overhead, and the lake was like a sea. He didn‚Äôt want to ‚Äúget in trouble‚Äù with Pansetta even if he did like her. Besides, he had to live with Tempy for a while yet and he hated to be quarrelling with his aunt all the time. He‚Äôd stop going to the pool hall so much and stay home at night and study.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ But, heck! it was too beautiful out of doors to stay in the house‚ÅÝ‚Äîespecially since spring had come!
Through his open window, as he lay in bed after Tempy’s tirade about the girl, he could see the stars and the tops of the budding maple-trees. A cool earth-smelling breeze lifted the white curtains, scattering the geometry papers that he had left lying on his study table. He got out of bed to pick up the papers and put them away, and stood for a moment in his pyjamas looking out of the window at the roofs of the houses and the tops of the trees under the night sky.
‚ÄúI wish I had a brother,‚Äù Sandy thought as he stood there. ‚ÄúMaybe I could talk to him about things and I wouldn‚Äôt have to think so much. It‚Äôs no fun being the only kid in the family, and your father never home either.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ When I get married, I‚Äôm gonna have a lot of children; then they won‚Äôt have to grow up by themselves.‚Äù
The next day after school he walked nearly home with Pansetta as usual, although he was still thinking of what Tempy had said, but he hadn’t decided to obey his aunt yet. At the corner of the block in which the girl lived, he gave her her books.
“I got to beat it back to the shop now. Old man Prentiss’ll have a dozen deliveries waiting for me just because I’m late.”
“All right,” said Pansetta in her sweet little voice. “I’m sorry you can’t come on down to my house awhile. Say, why don’t you work at the hotel, anyway? Wouldn’t you make more money there?”
“Guess I would,” replied the boy. “But my aunt thinks it’s better where I am.”
“Oh,” said Pansetta. “Well, I saw Jimmy Lane last night and he’s making lots of money at the hotel. He wanted to meet me around to school this afternoon, but I told him no. I said you took me home.”
“I do,” said Sandy.
“Yes,” laughed Pansetta; “but I didn’t tell him you wouldn’t ever come in.”
During the sunny spring weeks that followed, Sandy did not walk home with her any more after school. Having to go to work earlier was the excuse he gave, but at first Pansetta seemed worried and puzzled. She asked him if he was mad at her, or something, but he said he wasn’t. Then in a short time other boys were meeting her on the corner near the school, buying her cones when the ice-cream wagon passed, and taking her home in the afternoons. To see other fellows buying her ice-cream and walking home with her made Sandy angry, but it was his own fault, he thought. And he felt lonesome having no one to walk with after classes.
Pansetta, in school, was just as pleasant as before, but in a kind of impersonal way, as though she hadn’t been his girl once. And now Sandy was worried, because it had been easy to drop her, but would it be easy to get her back again if he should want her? The hotel boys had money, and once or twice he saw her talking with Jimmy Lane. Gee, but she looked pretty in her thin spring dresses and her wide straw hat.
Why had he listened to Tempy at all? She didn‚Äôt know Pansetta, and just because her mother worked out in service she wanted him to snub the girl. What was that to be afraid of‚ÅÝ‚Äîher mother not being home after school? Even if Pansetta would let him go in the house with her and put his arms around her and love her, why shouldn‚Äôt he? Didn‚Äôt he have a right to have a girl like that, as well as the other fellows? Didn‚Äôt he have a right to be free with women, too, like all the rest of the young men?‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ But Pansetta wasn‚Äôt that kind of girl!‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ What made his mind run away with him? Because of what Tempy had said?‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ To hell with Tempy!
“She’s just an old-fashioned darky Episcopalian, that’s what Tempy is! And she wanted me to drop Pansetta because her mother doesn’t belong to the Dunbar Whist Club. Gee, but I’m ashamed of myself. I’m a cad and a snob, that’s all I am, and I’m going to apologize.” Subconsciously he was living over a scene from an English novel he had read at the printing-shop, in which the Lord dropped the Squire’s daughter for a great Lady, but later returned to his first love. Sandy retained the words “cad” and “snob” in his vocabulary, but he wasn’t thinking of the novel now. He really believed, after three weeks of seeing Pansetta walking with other boys, that he had done wrong, and that Tempy was the villainess in the situation. It was worrying him a great deal; he decided to make up with Pansetta if he could.
One Friday afternoon she left school with a great armful of books. They had to write an English composition for Monday and she had taken some volumes from the school library for reference. He might have offered to carry them for her, but he hadn‚Äôt. Instead he went to work‚ÅÝ‚Äîand there had been no other colored boys on the corner waiting for her as she went out. Now he could have kicked himself for his neglect, he thought, as he cleaned the rear room of Mr.¬ÝPrentiss‚Äôs gift-card shop. Suddenly he dropped the broom with which he was sweeping, grabbed his cap, and left the place, for the desire to make friends with Pansetta possessed him more fiercely than ever, and he no longer cared about his work.
“I’m going to see her right now,” he thought, “before I go home to supper. Gee, but I’m ashamed of the way I’ve treated her.”
On the way to Pansetta’s house the lawns looked fresh and green and on some of them tulips were blooming. The late afternoon sky was aglow with sunset. Little boys were out in the streets with marbles and tops, and little girls were jumping rope on the sidewalks. Workmen were coming home, empty dinner-pails in their hands, and a band of Negro laborers passed Sandy, singing softly together.
‚ÄúI must hurry,‚Äù the boy thought. ‚ÄúIt will soon be our suppertime.‚Äù He ran until he was at Pansetta‚Äôs house‚ÅÝ‚Äîthen came the indecision: Should he go in? Or not go in? He was ashamed of his treatment of her and embarrassed. Should he go on by as if he had not meant to call? Suppose she shut the door in his face! Or, worse, suppose she asked him to stay awhile! Should he stay? What Tempy had said didn‚Äôt matter any more. He wanted to be friends with Pansetta again. He wanted her to know he still liked her and wanted to walk home with her. But how could he say it? Had she seen him from the window? Maybe he could turn around and go back, and see her Monday at school.
‚ÄúNo! I‚Äôm not a coward,‚Äù he declared. ‚ÄúAfraid of a girl! I‚Äôll walk right up on the front porch and knock!‚Äù But the small house looked very quiet and the lace curtains were tightly drawn together at the windows.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ He knocked again. Maybe there was no one home.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Yes, he heard somebody.
Finally Pansetta peeped through the curtains of the glass in the front door. Then she opened the door and smiled surprisingly, her hair mussed and her creamy-brown skin pink from the warm blood pulsing just under the surface. Her eyes were dark and luminous, and her lips were moist and red.
“It’s Sandy!” she said, turning to address someone inside the front room.
“O, come in, old man,” a boy’s voice called in a tone of forced welcome, and Sandy saw Jimmy Lane sitting on the couch adjusting his collar self-consciously. “How’s everything, old scout?”
‚ÄúAll right,‚Äù Sandy stammered. ‚ÄúSay, Pansy, I‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚ÅÝ‚ÄîDo you know‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI mean, what is the subject we‚Äôre supposed to write on for English Monday? I must of forgotten to take it down.‚Äù
‚ÄúWhy, ‚ÄòA Trip to Shakespeare‚Äôs England.‚Äô That‚Äôs easy to remember, silly. You must have been asleep.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Won‚Äôt you sit down?‚Äù
‚ÄúNo, thanks, I‚Äôve‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI guess I got to get back to supper.‚Äù
“Jesus!” cried Jimmy, jumping up from the sofa. “Is it that late? I’m due on bells at six o’clock. Wait a minute, Sandy, and I’ll walk up with you as far as the hotel. Boy, I’m behind time!” He picked up his coat from the floor, and Pansetta held it for him while he thrust his arms into the sleeves, glancing around meanwhile for his cap, which lay among the sofa-pillows. Then he kissed the girl carelessly on the lips as he slid one arm familiarly around her waist.
“So long, baby,” he said, and the two boys went out. On the porch Jimmy lit a cigarette and passed the pack to Sandy.
Jimmy Lane looked and acted as if he were much older than his companion, but Jimmy had been out of school several years, and hopping bells taught a fellow a great deal more about life than books did‚ÅÝ‚Äîand also about women. Besides, he was supporting himself now, which gave him an air of independence that boys who still lived at home didn‚Äôt have.
When they had walked about a block, the bellboy said carelessly: “Pansetta can go! Can’t she, man?”
“I don’t know,” said Sandy.
“Aw, boy, you’re lying,” Jimmy Lane returned. “Don’t try to hand me that kid stuff! You had her for a year, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” replied Sandy slowly, “but not like you mean.”
“Stop kidding,” Jimmy insisted.
“No, honest, I never touched her that way,” the boy said. “I never was at her house before.”
Jimmy opened his mouth astonished. ‚ÄúWhat!‚Äù he exclaimed, ‚Äúand her old lady out working till eight and nine every night! Say, Sandy, we‚Äôre friends, but you‚Äôre either just a big liar‚ÅÝ‚Äîor else a God damn fool!‚Äù He threw his cigarette away and put both hands in his pockets. ‚ÄúPansetta‚Äôs easy as hell, man!‚Äù