Native Son - Richard Wright [64]
“I’m tired tonight,” she sighed.
“Who you been seeing?”
“Nobody.”
“What you doing tired?”
“If you want to talk that way you can leave right now. I didn’t ask you who you been seeing to make you stay away this long, did I?”
“You all on edge tonight.”
“You could have just said, ‘Hello, dog!’”
“Really, honey. I was busy.”
“You was setting there at that table with them white folks like you was a lawyer or something. You wouldn’t even look at me when I spoke to you.”
“Aw, forget it. Let’s talk about something else.”
He attempted to kiss her again and she shied away.
“Come on, honey.”
“Who you been with?”
“Nobody. I swear. I been working. And I been thinking hard about you. I been missing you. Listen, I got a room all my own where I’m working. Some nights you can stay there with me, see? Gee, I been missing you awful, honey. Soon’s I got time I came right over.”
He stood looking at her in the dim light of the room. She was teasing him and he liked it. At least it took him away from that terrible image of Mary’s head lying on the bloody newspaper. He wanted to kiss her again, but deep down he did not really mind her standing off from him; it made him hunger more keenly for her. She was looking at him wistfully, half-leaning against a wall, her hands on her hips. Then suddenly he knew how to draw her out, to drive from her mind all thought of her teasing him. He reached into his pocket and drew forth the roll of bills. Smiling, he held it in his palm and spoke as though to himself:
“Well, I reckon somebody else might like this if you don’t.”
She came a step forward.
“Bigger! Gee! Where you get all that money from?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“How much is it?”
“What you care?”
She came to his side.
“How much is it, really?”
“What you want to know for?”
“Let me see it. I’ll give it back to you.”
“I’ll let you see it, but it’ll have to stay in my hand, see?”
He watched the expression of coyness on her face change to one of amazement as she counted the bills.
“Lord, Bigger! Where you get this money from?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said, slipping his arm about her waist.
“Is it yours?”
“What in hell you reckon I’m doing with it?”
“Tell me where you get it from, honey.”
“You going to be sweet to me?”
He felt her body growing gradually less stiff; but her eyes were searching his face.
“You ain’t got into nothing, is you?”
“You going to be sweet to me?”
“Oh, Bigger!”
“Kiss me, honey.”
He felt her relax completely; he kissed her and she drew him to the bed. They sat down. Gently, she took the money from his hand.
“How much is it?” he asked.
“Don’t you know?”
“Naw.”
“Didn’t you count it?”
“Naw.”
“Bigger, where you get this money from?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you some day,” he said, leaning back and resting his head on the pillow.
“You into something.”
“How much is there?”
“A hundred and twenty-five dollars.”
“You going to be sweet to me?”
“But, Bigger, where you get this money from?”
“What do that matter?”
“You going to buy me something?”
“Sure.”
“What?”
“Anything you want.”
They were silent for a moment. Finally, his arm about her waist felt her body relax into a softness he knew and wanted. She rested her head on the pillow; he put the money in his pocket and leaned over her.
“Gee, honey. I been wanting you bad.”
“For real?”
“Honest to God.”
He placed his hands on her breasts just as he had placed them on Mary’s last night and he was thinking of that while he kissed her. He took his lips away for breath and heard Bessie say:
“Don’t stay away so long from me, hear, honey?”
“I won’t.”
“You love me?”
“Sure.”
He kissed her again and he felt her arm lifting above his head and he heard the click as the light went out. He kissed her again, hard.
“Bessie?”
“Hunh?”
“Come on, honey.”
They were still a moment longer; then she rose. He waited. He heard her clothes rustling in the darkness; she was undressing. He got up and began to undress. Gradually, he