Alligator Bayou - Donna Jo Napoli [40]
“They’s talking about how y’all went to a darkie gathering. All you dagoes.”
“Eating the same food, from the same plates.”
“Disgusting.”
“I saw you licking each other’s fingers.”
“Really? Ain’t that something. I’d have vomited if I saw that.”
My breath comes free again. They don’t know about Patricia. They won’t do anything to her. “We were at school,” I say. “Sicilians are allowed at that school.”
“Ain’t no school in summer. That was a party.”
“Fraternizing with them cotton pickers. That’s what Pa calls it. Fraternizing.”
“Next thing you know, y’all be giving the darkies ideas.”
“Fraternizing and big ideas. And selling stuff too cheap.”
“Yeah. Making deals with the dagoes in New Orleans.”
“Ruining the company stores.”
“What you doing?” A woman stands in the street. Mrs. Rogers’ Lila.
“Mind your own business.”
I hate him sneering at her like that, but that’s good advice. These boys aren’t likely to care what Lila thinks, not with the color of her skin.
“I work for Mrs. Rogers.” Lila comes up onto the sidewalk. She looks over at Cirone, who’s managed to work himself to a sit by now. He’s hugging his knees and still rocking his head. “These boys the greengrocers Mrs. Rogers buy from. Mrs. Rogers’ favorite grocer boys.”
“Mr. Rogers don’t like dagoes,” says one boy. “I heard him say that.”
“And Willy Rogers, he hates them,” says another. “He says we ought to run them out of town. Ain’t a single one worth spitting at.”
“Mr. Rogers like to eat,” says Lila. “Willy do, too. These their favorite grocer boys. Stand back.”
The boys don’t move.
Lila steps forward with a loud noise through her nose. Almost a bugle sound.
One boy takes a step away. The other two follow suit.
“Get up, child,” she says to me.
I get to my feet and help Cirone up. He stays bent, both hands on his belly.
“See you in the morning. At the stand.” She looks at the boys. “Like always.”
My cap lies behind one of the boys. I know I’m pushing my luck, but I already lost a hat on the ’gator hunt. I don’t want to know what Francesco will do if I lose this cap. Besides, pride gets the best of me. I walk past that boy. Our chests are only a foot apart. He tenses up. I reach behind him and grab my cap. I put it on and touch the tip of it in farewell to Lila.
Cirone and I walk away. Slowly.
It takes a long time for my thoughts to unscramble.
“How bad does it hurt?”
Cirone straightens a little. “No blood.” He looks at me. “Your chin’s a mess.”
“What were you doing in town?”
He turns his head away and straightens a little more.
“Come on, tell me.”
“Where did you go last night, huh?” Cirone presses on his belly with both hands and takes a deep breath. “You’re not the only one with secrets.” He puts a fist to his mouth and chews on a knuckle. “Calo, don’t tell what they said about fraternizing. You do, and that’s the end of parties. That’s the end of everything good here.”
I lick blood off my bottom lip. “I want us to go to every party we get invited to.”
“Right. It makes me mad when they say we can’t be friends with Negroes. They don’t want us with whites and they don’t want us with Negroes. They think Sicilians belong nowhere, with no one. Like we’re not people at all.”
“Well, we are.”
We hook arms and cross the grass.
sixteen
“Rotten kids.” Carlo picks dirt and tiny pebbles from my chin. He heated water to wash the gash. This last picking part hurts like mad. He makes hissing noises as he works. He knows he’s hurting me and I think it bothers him more than me. “Nasty little no-goods,” mutters Carlo. And he doesn’t even know about my broken tooth.
Or about Cirone’s bruises. They’re hidden under his clothes. But my chin was out in the open.
Francesco comes through the door and takes me in with one swift glance. He glowers. “What did you do now?”
“Me? It’s not my fault. They jumped me.”
“Who?” snaps Giuseppe. He followed Francesco in, with Rosario at his heels.
“Three boys.”
Rosario looks quick at Cirone. “What about you?”
“I was out back. Nowhere