Invisible man - Ralph Ellison [151]
"This is sense," I said, "and you listen as we listened to you. We'll be out here every night, understand. We'll be out here and the next time you go after one of our brothers with a knife -- and I mean white or black -- well, we won't forget it."
He shook his head, "Nor will I forget you either, mahn."
"Don't. I don't want you to; because if you forget there'll be trouble. You're mistaken, don't you see you're outnumbered? You need allies to win . . ."
"That there is sense. Black allies. Yellow and brown allies!"
"All men who want a brotherly world," I said.
"Don't be stupid, mahn. They white, they don't have to be allies with no black people. They get what they wahnt, they turn against you. Where's your black intelligence?"
"Thinking like that will get you lost in the backwash of history," I said. "Start thinking with your mind and not your emotions."
He shook his head vehemently, looking at Clifton.
"This black mahn talking to me about brains and thinking. I ask both of you, are you awake or sleeping? What is your pahst and where are you going? Never mind, take your corrupt ideology and eat out your own guts like a laughing hyena. You are nowhere, mahn. Nowhere! Ras is not ignorant, nor is Ras afraid. No! Ras, he be here black and fighting for the liberty of the black people when the white folks have got what they wahnt and done gone off laughing in your face and you stinking and choked up with white maggots."
He spat angrily into the dark street. It flew pink in the red glow.
"That'll be all right with me," I said. "Only remember what I said. Come on, Brother Clifton. This man's full of pus, black pus."
We started away, a piece of glass crunching under my foot.
"Maybe so," Ras said, "but I ahm no fool! I ahm no black educated fool who t'inks everything between black mahn and white mahn can be settled with some blahsted lies in some bloody books written by the white mahn in the first place. It's three hundred years of black blood to build this white mahn's civilization and wahn't be wiped out in a minute. Blood calls for blood! You remember that. And remember that I am not like you. Ras recognizes the true issues and he is not afraid to be black. Nor is he a traitor for white men. Remember that: I am no black traitor to the black people for the white people."
And before I could answer Clifton spun in the dark and there was a crack and I saw Ras go down and Clifton breathing hard and Ras lying there in the street, a thick, black man with red tears on his face that caught the reflection of the CHECKS CASHED HERE sign.
And again, as Clifton looked gravely down he seemed to ask a silent question.
"Let's go," I said. "Let's go!"
We started away as the screams of sirens sounded, Clifton cursing quietly to himself.
Then we were out of the dark onto a busy street and he turned to me. There were tears in his eyes.
"That poor, misguided son of a bitch," he said.
"He thinks a lot of you, too," I said. I was glad to be out of the dark and away from that exhorting voice.
"The man's crazy," Clifton said. "It'll run you crazy if you let it."
"Where'd he get that name?" I said.
"He gave it to himself. I guess he did. Ras is a title of respect in the East. It's a wonder he didn't say something about 'Ethiopia stretching forth her wings,' " he said, mimicking Ras. "He makes it sound like the hood of a cobra fluttering . . . I don't know . . . I don't know . . ."
"We'll have to watch him now," I said.
"Yes, we'd better," he said. "He won't stop fighting . . . And thanks for getting rid of his knife."
"You didn't have to worry," I said. "He wouldn't kill his king."
He turned and looked at me as though he thought I might mean it; then he smiled.
"For a while there I thought I was gone," he said.
As we headed for the district office I wondered what Brother Jack would say about the fight.
"We'll have to overpower him with organization," I said.
"We'll do that, all right. But it's on the inside that Ras is strong," Clifton said. "On the inside he's dangerous."
"He won't get on the inside," I said.