Native Son - Richard Wright [29]
“Yessuh.”
“You think you can handle that?”
“Oh, yessuh.”
“And any time you’re bothered about anything, come and see me. Let’s talk it over.”
“Yessuh.”
“Oh, Father!” a girl’s voice sang out.
“Yes, Mary,” said Mr. Dalton.
Bigger turned and saw a white girl walk into the room. She was very slender.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy.”
“That’s all right, Mary. What is it?”
Bigger saw that the girl was looking at him. Yes; she was the same girl he had seen in the movie.
“Is this the new chauffeur, Father?”
“What do you want, Mary?”
“Will you get the tickets for the Thursday concert?”
“At Orchestra Hall?”
“Yes.”
“Yes. I’ll get them.”
“Is this the new chauffeur?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Dalton. “This is Bigger Thomas.”
“Hello, Bigger,” the girl said.
Bigger swallowed. He looked at Mr. Dalton, then felt that he should not have looked.
“Good evening, mam.”
The girl came close to him and stopped just opposite his chair.
“Bigger, do you belong to a union?” she asked.
“Now, Mary!” said Mr. Dalton, frowning.
“Well, Father, he should,” the girl said, turning to him, then back to Bigger. “Do you?”
“Mary….” said Mr. Dalton.
“I’m just asking him a question, Father!”
Bigger hesitated. He hated the girl then. Why did she have to do this when he was trying to get a job?
“No’m,” he mumbled, his head down and his eyes glowering.
“And why not?” the girl asked.
Bigger heard Mr. Dalton mumble something. He wished Mr Dalton would speak and end this thing. He looked up and saw Mr Dalton staring at the girl. She’s making me lose my job! he thought. Goddamn! He knew nothing about unions, except that they were considered bad. And what did she mean by talking to him this way in front of Mr. Dalton, who, surely, didn’t like unions?
“We can settle about the union later, Mary,” said Mr. Dalton.
“But you wouldn’t mind belonging to a union, would you?” the girl asked.
“I don’t know, mam,” Bigger said.
“Now, Mary, you can see that the boy is new,” said Mr. Dalton. “Leave him alone.”
The girl turned and poked out a red tongue at him.
“All right, Mr. Capitalist!” She turned again to Bigger. “Isn’t he a capitalist, Bigger?”
Bigger looked at the floor and did not answer. He did not know what a capitalist was.
The girl started to leave, but stopped.
“Oh, Father, if he hasn’t anything else to do, let him drive me to my lecture at the University tonight.”
“I’m talking to him now, Mary. He’ll be through in a moment.”
The girl picked up the cat and walked from the room. There was a short interval of silence. Bigger wished the girl had not said anything about unions. Maybe he would not be hired now? Or, if hired, maybe he would be fired soon if she kept acting like that. He had never seen anyone like her before. She was not a bit the way he had imagined she would be.
“Oh, Mary!” Mr. Dalton called.
“Yes, Father,” Bigger heard her answer from the hallway.
Mr. Dalton rose and left the room. He sat still, listening. Once or twice he thought he heard the girl laugh, but he was not sure. The best thing he could do was to leave that crazy girl alone. No wonder they called her a Communist in the movies. She was crazy, all right. He had heard about unions; in his mind unions and Communists were linked. He relaxed a little, then stiffened when he heard Mr. Dalton walk back into the room. Wordlessly, the white man sat behind the desk and picked up the paper and looked at it in a long silence. Bigger watched him with lowered eyes; he knew that Mr. Dalton was thinking of something other than that paper. In his heart he cursed the crazy girl. Maybe Mr. Dalton was deciding not to hire him? Goddamn! Maybe he would not get the extra five dollars a week now? Goddamn that woman! She spoiled everything! Maybe Mr. Dalton would feel that he could not trust him.
“Oh, Bigger,” said Mr. Dalton.
“Yessuh.”
“I want you to know why I’m hiring you.”
“Yessuh.”
“You see, Bigger, I’m a supporter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Did you ever hear of that organization?”