Native Son - Richard Wright [30]
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” said Mr. Dalton. “Have you had your dinner?”
“Nawsuh.”
“Well, I think you’ll do.”
Mr. Dalton pushed a button. There was silence. The woman who had answered the front door came in.
“Yes, Mr. Dalton.”
“Peggy, this is Bigger. He’s going to drive for us. Give him something to eat, and show him where he’s to sleep and where the car is.”
“Yes, Mr. Dalton.”
“And, Bigger, at eight-thirty, drive Miss Dalton out to the University and wait for her,” said Mr. Dalton.
“Yessuh.”
“That’s all now.”
“Yessuh.”
“Come with me,” Peggy said.
Bigger rose and got his cap and followed the woman through the house to the kitchen. The air was full of the scent of food cooking and pots bubbled on the stove.
“Sit here,” Peggy said, clearing a place for him at a white-topped table. He sat and rested his cap on his knees. He felt a little better now that he was out of the front part of the house, but still not quite comfortable.
“Dinner isn’t quite ready yet,” Peggy said. “You like bacon and eggs?”
“Yessum.”
“Coffee?”
“Yessum.”
He sat looking at the white walls of the kitchen and heard the woman stir about behind him.
“Did Mr. Dalton tell you about the furnace?”
“No’m.”
“Well, he must have forgotten it. You’re supposed to attend to that, too. I’ll show you where it is before you go.”
“You mean I got to keep the fire going, mam?”
“Yes. But it’s easy. Did you ever fire before?”
“No’m.”
“You can learn. There’s nothing to it.”
“Yessum.”
Peggy seemed kind enough, but maybe she was being kind in order to shove her part of the work on him. Well, he would wait and see. If she got nasty, he would talk to Mr. Dalton about her. He smelt the odor of frying bacon and realized that he was very hungry. He had forgotten to buy a sandwich with the quarter his mother had given him, and he had not eaten since morning. Peggy placed a plate, knife, fork, spoon, sugar, cream, and bread before him; then she dished up the bacon and eggs.
“You can get more if you want it.”
The food was good. This was not going to be a bad job. The only thing bad so far was that crazy girl. He chewed his bacon and eggs while some remote part of his mind considered in amazement how different the girl had seemed in the movie. On the screen she was not dangerous and his mind could do with her as it liked. But here in her home she walked over everything, put herself in the way. He had quite forgotten that Peggy was in the kitchen and when his plate was empty he took a soft piece of bread and began to sop it clean, carrying the bread to his mouth in huge chunks.
“You want some more?”
He stopped chewing and laid the bread aside. He had not wanted to let her see him do that; he did that only at home.
“No’m,” he said. “I got a plenty.”
“You reckon you’ll like it here?” Peggy asked.
“Yessum. I hope so.”
“This is a swell place,” Peggy said. “About as good as you’ll find anywhere. The last colored man who worked for us stayed ten years.”
Bigger wondered why she said “us.” She must stand in with the old man and old woman pretty good, he thought.
“Ten years?” he said.
“Yes; ten years. His name was Green. He was a good man, too.”
“How come he to leave?”
“Oh, he was smart, that Green was. He took a job with the government. Mrs. Dalton made him go to night school. Mrs. Dalton’s always trying to help somebody.”
Yes; Bigger knew that. But he was not going to any night school. He looked at Peggy; she was bent over the sink, washing dishes. Her words had challenged him and he felt he had to say something.
“Yessum, he was smart,” he said. “And ten years is a long time.”
“Oh, it wasn’t so long,” Peggy said. “I’ve been here twenty years myself. I always was one for sticking to a job. I always say when you get a good place, then stick there. A rolling stone gathers no moss, and it’s true.”
Bigger said nothing.
“Everything’s simple and nice around here,” Peggy said. “They’ve got millions, but they live like human beings. They don’t put on airs and strut. Mrs. Dalton believes that people should be that way.”
“Yessum.”
“They’re Christian