Native Son - Richard Wright [39]
“That’s the way they say it,” he spoke flatly.
Jan and Mary were eating. Bigger picked up a piece of chicken and bit it. When he tried to chew he found his mouth dry. It seemed that the very organic functions of his body had altered; and when he realized why, when he understood the cause, he could net chew the food. After two or three bites, he stopped and sipped his beer.
“Eat your chicken,” Mary said. “It’s good!”
“I ain’t hungry,” he mumbled.
“Want some more beer?” Jan asked after a long silence.
Maybe if he got a little drunk it would help him.
“I don’t mind,” he said.
Jan ordered another round.
“Do they keep anything stronger than beer here?” Jan asked.
“They got anything you want,” Bigger said.
Jan ordered a fifth of rum and poured a round. Bigger felt the liquor warming him. After a second drink Jan began to talk.
“Where were you born, Bigger?”
“In the South.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Mississippi.”
“How far did you go in school?”
“To the eighth grade.”
“Why did you stop?”
“No money.”
“Did you go to school in the North or South?”
“Mostly in the South. I went two years up here.”
“How long have you been in Chicago?”
“Oh, about five years.”
“You like it here?”
“It’ll do.”
“You live with your people?”
“My mother, brother, and sister.”
“Where’s your father?”
“Dead.”
“How long ago was that?”
“He got killed in a riot when I was a kid—in the South.”
There was silence. The rum was helping Bigger.
“And what was done about it?” Jan asked.
“Nothing, far as I know.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, Bigger, that’s what we want to stop. That’s what we Communists are fighting. We want to stop people from treating others that way. I’m a member of the Party. Mary sympathizes. Don’t you think if we got together we could stop things like that?”
“I don’t know,” Bigger said; he was feeling the rum rising to his head. “There’s a lot of white people in the world.”
“You’ve read about the Scottsboro boys?”
“I heard about ’em.”
“Don’t you think we did a good job in helping to keep ’em from killing those boys?”
“It was all right.”
“You know, Bigger,” said Mary, “we’d like to be friends of yours.”
He said nothing. He drained his glass and Jan poured another round. He was getting drunk enough to look straight at them now. Mary was smiling at him.
“You’ll get used to us,” she said.
Jan stoppered the bottle of rum.
“We’d better go,” he said.
“Yes,” Mary said. “Oh, Bigger, I’m going to Detroit at nine in the morning and I want you to take my small trunk down to the station. Tell father and he’ll let you make up your time. You better come for the trunk at eight-thirty.”
“I’ll take it down.”
Jan paid the bill and they went back to the car. Bigger got behind the steering wheel. He was feeling good. Jan and Mary got into the back seat. As Bigger drove he saw her resting in Jan’s arms.
“Drive around in the park awhile, will you, Bigger?”
“O.K.”
He turned into Washington Park and pulled the car slowly round and round the long gradual curves. Now and then he watched Jan kiss Mary in the reflection of the rear mirror above his head.
“You got a girl, Bigger?” Mary asked.
“I got a girl,” he said.
“I’d like to meet her some time.”
He did not answer. Mary’s eyes stared dreamily before her, as if she were planning future things to do. Then she turned to Jan and laid her hand tenderly upon his arm.
“How was the demonstration?”
“Pretty good. But the cops arrested three comrades.”
“Who were they?”
“A Y. C. L.-er and two Negro women. Oh, by the way, Mary. We need money for bail badly.”
“How much?”
“Three thousand.”
“I’ll mail you a check.”
“Swell.”
“Did you work hard today?”
“Yeah. I was at a meeting until three this morning. Max and I’ve been trying to raise bail money all day today.”
“Max is a darling, isn’t he?”
“He’s one of the best lawyers we’ve got.”
Bigger listened; he knew that they were talking Communism and he tried to understand. But he couldn’t.
“Jan.”
“Yes, honey.”
“I’m coming out of school this spring and I’m going to join the Party.”
“Gee, you’re a brick!”
“But