A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton - Michael R. Phillips [93]
“I don’t care. You helped me save Rosewood. You earned most of this money, and so you’re coming in with me. We’re going to pay off that loan, and with what’s left over, I’m going to give you twenty dollars and you’re going to open your own bank account.”
“Twenty dollars! Katie, I couldn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear another word, Mayme. If you don’t do it … I will open an account myself with your name on it.”
Katie marched toward the door, with me following.
We walked into the bank, two dirty, scruffy girls, one white and one black. We hadn’t even stopped to clean up after our morning’s work.
I could see people glance up immediately all through the place looking at us. But Katie didn’t seem to mind. She went straight to Mr. Taylor’s desk.
He looked up but didn’t smile. I think he was getting very tired of seeing Katie all the time instead of her mother.
“Yes, Miss Clairborne, what is it?” he said curtly.
“Today is September twenty-ninth, I believe,” said Katie.
“It is. In fact I have just been completing the foreclosure documents right here. Since your mother persists in refusing to—”
Katie set down the bag of money on the desk with a loud clunk. Now even more heads turned.
“Would you please take one hundred fifty-three dollars of this,” said Katie, “for the payoff of the loan, and deposit all but twenty dollars of the rest into our account?”
“Well … I, uh, yes … yes, of course,” he said, fumbling for words as he rose from his chair. He pulled the bag across the desk, opened the top, and looked in. His eyes widened just like Katie’s at what he saw.
“This is … this is, of course, good news. Yes … I will see to it, Miss Clairborne!”
He reached down to his desk, picked up some papers, then smiled at Katie. “It appears we will have no more need of these,” he added, then ripped the papers in half. “I will process everything immediately. And you say you want twenty dollars in cash?”
“Yes,” answered Katie. “We want to open a new account with it.”
“I see. What kind of account?”
“Just a regular account, but in someone else’s name.”
“Ah, I see … of course. And whose name would that be?”
“Miss Mary Ann Jukes,” said Katie. “This is Miss Jukes with me,” she said, nodding toward me. “She will now be your customer.—Mary Ann, I would like to introduce you to the manager of the bank, Mr. Taylor.”
I reached out my hand. He looked at it as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it. I don’t know whether he’d ever shaken a colored person’s hand before.
“Uh, I … I am, uh—pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss, uh … Miss Jukes,” he said, hesitating a second, then limply shaking my hand and releasing it quickly.
“You will open the account, then?” said Katie.
“Yes … yes, right away,” said Mr. Taylor, picking up the money bag and walking toward the counter. I think he was relieved to get away from me!
Katie looked over at me and gave a little smile.
Yes, sir, I thought—she was growing up fast! She had just put a banker in his place who was probably the richest man in town.
When we walked out of the bank ten minutes later, we were both smiling. And I was holding a little booklet that had the words Mary Ann Jukes written across the top of it, and that inside on the first line said, Sept 29, Deposit, $20.
I’d never been so proud of anything in my life! Now I felt rich!
HOME AGAIN
49
WE WALKED BACK TO THE WAGONS.
“That was some pumpkins!” I whispered as we went. I could hardly keep myself from smiling. “Thank you so much, Katie,” I said. “This bank account means so much to me!”
“You deserve it, Mayme. If it weren’t for you, Mr. Taylor’s bank would own Rosewood by tomorrow.—Now let’s go home and pick some more cotton, so we can pay off the second loan too!”
“I think we should have a day or two for you to rest, Katie,” I said. “Then we’ll start in again.”
“I’m too exhausted to argue!” laughed Katie.
Katie climbed up on the lead wagon, and I got up onto mine.
“Get’up!” said Katie, flicking the reins.
She lurched into motion and I followed. In the distance, in front of the livery stable, I saw Henry standing talking