A Long Day in November (7 page)

“I got about seventy-five cents,” Daddy says. “Counting them pennies.”

“My price is three dollars,” Madame Toussaint says.

“I can cut you a load of wood,” Daddy says. “Or make grocery for you. I'll do anything in the world if you can help me, Madame Toussaint.”

“Three dollars,” Madame Toussaint says. “I got all the wood I'll need this winter. Enough grocery to last me till summer.”

“But this all I got,” Daddy says.

“When you get more, come back,” Madame Toussaint says.

“But I want my wife back now,” Daddy says. “I can't wait till I get more money.”

“Three dollars is my price,” Madame Toussaint says. “No more, no less.”

“But can't you give me just a little advice for seventy-five cents?” Daddy says. “Seventy-five cents worth? Maybe I can start from there and figure something out.”

Madame Toussaint looks at me and looks at Daddy again.

“You say that's your boy?” she says.

“Yes, ma'am,” Daddy says.

“Nice-looking boy,” Madame Toussaint says.

“His name's Sonny,” Daddy says.

“Hi, Sonny,” Madame Toussaint says.

“Say ‘Hi' to Madame Toussaint,” Daddy says. “Go on.”

“Hi,” I say, sticking close to Daddy.

“Well, Madame Toussaint?” Daddy says.

“Give me the money,” Madame Toussaint says. “Don't complain to me if you not satisfied.”

“Don't worry,” Daddy says. “I won't complain. Anything to get her back home.”

Daddy leans over the fire again and picks the money out of his hand. Then he reaches it to Madame Toussaint.

“Give me that little piece of string,” Madame Toussaint says. “It might come in handy sometime in the future. Wait,” she says. “Run it 'cross the left side of the boy's face three times, then pass it to me behind your back.”

“What's that for?” Daddy asks.

“Just do like I say,” Madame Toussaint says.

“Yes, ma'am,” Daddy says. Daddy turns to me. “Hold still, Sonny,” he says. He rubs the little old dirty piece of cord over my face, and then he sticks his hand behind his back.

Madame Toussaint reaches in her pocket and takes out her pocketbook. She opens it and puts the money in. She opens another little compartment and stuffs the string down in it. Then she snaps the pocketbook and puts it back in her pocket. She picks up three little green sticks she got tied together and starts poking in the fire with them.

“What's the advice?” Daddy asks.

Madame Toussaint don't say nothing.

“Madame Toussaint?” Daddy says.

Madame Toussaint still don't answer him, she just looks down in the fire. Her face is red from the fire. I get scared of Madame Toussaint. She can ride all over the plantation on her broom. Billy Joe Martin say he seen her one night riding 'cross the houses. She was whipping her broom with three switches.

Madame Toussaint raises her head and looks at Daddy. Her eyes's big and white, and I get scared of her. I hide my face 'side Daddy's leg.

“Give it up,” I hear her say.

“Give what up?” Daddy says.

“Give it up,” she says.

“What?” Daddy says.

“Give it up,” she says.

“I don't even know what you talking 'bout,” Daddy says. “How can I give up something and I don't even know what it is?”

“I said it three times,” Madame Toussaint says. “No more, no less. Up to you now to follow it through from there.”

“Follow what from where?” Daddy says. “You said three little old words: ‘Give it up.' I don't know no more now than I knowed 'fore I got here.”

“I told you you wasn't go'n be satisfied,” Madame Toussaint says.

“Satisfied?” Daddy says. “Satisfied for what? You gived me just three little old words and you want me to be satisfied?”

“You can leave,” Madame Toussaint says.

“Leave?” Daddy says. “You mean I give you seventy-five cents for three words? A quarter a word? And I'm leaving? No, Lord.”

“Rollo?” Madame Toussaint says.

I see Madame Toussaint's big old black dog get up out of the corner and come where she is. Madame Toussaint pats the dog on the head with her hand.

“Two dollars and twenty-five cents more and you get all the advice you need,” Madame Toussaint says.

“Can't I get you a load of wood and fix your house for you or something?” Daddy says.

“I don't want my house fixed and I don't need no more wood,” Madame Toussaint says. “I got three loads of wood just three days ago from a man who didn't have money. Before I know it I'll have wood piled up all over my yard.”

“Can't I do anything?” Daddy says.

“You can leave,” Madame Toussaint says. “I ought to have somebody else dropping round pretty soon. Lately I've been having men dropping in three times a day. All of them just like you, in trouble with their wives. Get out my house before I put the dog on you. You been here too long for seventy-five cents.”

Madame Toussaint's big old jet-black dog gives three loud barks that makes my head hurt. Madame Toussaint pats him on the back to calm him down.

“Come on, Sonny,” Daddy says.

I let Daddy take my hand and we go over to the door.

“I still don't feel like you helped me very much, though,” Daddy says.

Madame Toussaint pats her big old jet-black dog on the head and she don't answer Daddy. Daddy pushes the door open and we go outside. It's some cold outside. Me and Daddy go down Madame Toussaint's old broken-down steps.

“What was them words?” Daddy asks me.

“Hanh?”

“What she said when she looked up out of that fire?” Daddy asks.

“I was scared,” I say. “Her face was red and her eyes got big and white. I was scared. I had to hide my face.”

“Didn't you hear what she told me?” Daddy asks.

“She told you three dollars,” I say.

“I mean when she looked up,” Daddy says.

“She say, ‘Give it up,'” I say.

“Yes,” Daddy says. “ ‘Give it up.' Give what up? I don't even know what she's talking 'bout. I hope she don't mean give you and Amy up. She ain't that crazy. I don't know nothing else she can be talking 'bout. You don't know, do you?”

“Uh-uh,” I say.

“ ‘Give it up,'” Daddy says. “I don't even know what she's talking 'bout. I wonder who them other men was she was speaking of. Johnny and his wife had a fight the other week. It might be him. Frank Armstrong and his wife had a round couple weeks back. Could be him. I wish I knowed what she told them.”

“I want another piece of cane,” I say.

“No,” Daddy says. “You'll be pee-ing in bed all night tonight.”

“I'm go'n sleep with Uncle Al,” I say. “Me and him go'n sleep in his bed.”

“Please be quiet, Sonny,” Daddy says. “I got enough troubles on my mind. Don't add more to it.”Me and Daddy
walk in the middle of the road. Daddy holds my hand. I can hear a tractor—I see it across the field. The people loading cane on the trailer back of the tractor.

“Come on,” Daddy says. “We going over to Frank Armstrong.”

Daddy totes me 'cross the ditch on his back. I ride on Daddy's back and I look at the stubbles where the people done cut the cane. Them rows some long. Plenty cane's laying on the ground. I can see cane all over the field. Me and Daddy go over where the people cutting cane.

“How come you ain't working this evening?” a man asks Daddy. The man's shucking a big armful of cane with his cane knife.

“Frank Armstrong round anywhere?” Daddy asks the man.

“Farther over,” the man says. “Hi, youngster.”

“Hi,” I say.

Me and Daddy go 'cross the field. I look at the people cutting cane. That cane is some tall. I want another piece, but I might wee-wee in Uncle Al's bed.

Me and Daddy go over where Mr. Frank Armstrong and Mrs. Julie's cutting cane. Mrs. Julie got overalls on just like Mr. Frank got. She's even wearing one of Mr. Frank's old hats.

“How y'all?” Daddy says.

“So-so, and yourself ?” Mrs. Julie says.

“I'm trying to make it,” Daddy says. “Can I borrow your
husband there a minute?”

“Sure,” Mrs. Julie says. “But don't keep him too long. We trying to reach the end 'fore dark.”

“It won't take long,” Daddy says.

Mr. Frank and them got a little fire burning in one of the middles. Me and him and Daddy go over there. Daddy squats down and let me slide off his back.

“What's the trouble?” Mr. Frank asks Daddy.

“Amy left me, Frank,” Daddy says.

Mr. Frank holds his hands over the fire.

“She left you?” he says.

“Yes,” Daddy says. “And I want her back, Frank.”

“What can I do?” Mr. Frank says. “She's no kin to me. I can't go and make her come back.”

“I thought maybe you could tell me what you and Madame Toussaint talked about,” Daddy says. “That's if you don't mind, Frank.”

“What?” Mr. Frank says. “Who told you I talked with Madame Toussaint?”

“Nobody,” Daddy says. “But I heard you and Julie had a fight, and I thought maybe you went back to her for advice.”

“For what?” Mr. Frank says.

“So you and Julie could make up,” Daddy says.

“Well, I'll be damned,” Mr. Frank says. “I done heard everything. Excuse me, Sonny. But your daddy's enough to make anybody cuss.”

I look up at Daddy, and I look back in the fire again.

“Please, Frank,” Daddy says. “I'm desperate. I'm ready to try anything. I'll do anything to get her back in my house.”

“Why don't you just go and get her?” Mr. Frank says. “That makes sense.”

“I can't,” Daddy says. “Mama won't let me come in the yard. She even took a shot at me once today.”

“What?” Mr. Frank says. He looks at Daddy, and then he just bust out laughing. Daddy laughs little bit, too.

“What y'all talked about, Frank?” Daddy asks. “Maybe if I try the same thing, maybe I'll be able to get her back, too.”

Mr. Frank laughs at Daddy, then he stops and just looks at Daddy.

“My advice won't help your case, Eddie,” he says.

“It might,” Daddy says.

“It can't,” Mr. Frank says. “First you got to get close to your wife, and your mother-in-law won't allow that. Anyhow, everybody's advice is different.”

“Tell me what she told you, Frank,” Daddy says. “Maybe I can use it for a starting point.”

“She told me I had to listen to my wife little more,” Mr. Frank says.

“ 'Bout what?” Daddy says.

“ 'Bout everything,” Mr. Frank says. “Said I wasn't listening to her enough. Said I walked out the house too much when Julie was talking to me. Don't ask me how she knowed all that, but she knowed it. That old woman know everything back there.”

“That's all she told you to do, just listen?” Daddy asks.

“She told me to pat her on the back sometime and make myself kiss her sometime. I told her Julie chewed tobacco. She said she knowed all that—kiss her anyhow. And sometime tell her the food is good. Don't ask me how she knowed all this, but she knowed it. Well, I do all she told me—'long with rubbing her foot every night.”

Me and Daddy look at Mrs. Julie cutting cane. I can't see Mrs. Julie's foot.

“Rub her foot for what?” Daddy says.