Online Book Reader

Home Category

Singin' and Swingin' and Gettin' Merry Like Christmas - Maya Angelou [79]

By Root 254 0
to the Yugoslavian government and the U.S. State Department how a Communist citizen's heart came to be found in my dressing room. On the other hand, what could I do with the putty heart? My luggage was already overweight. I had bought sweaters in Venice for myself and a few presents for my family in Paris. I wanted a few pieces of pottery in Greece and it had been hinted that we were going to Egypt. Certainly I'd find something there to take home. And here I was, saddled with something I did not want or could not give away. There wasn't a soul in the world I disliked enough to give the ugly thing. There was a small catch in the back of the heart which indicated it was meant to hang on the wall. I placed it under my dressing table behind the shoe rack. There would be time enough to deal with it when I had to pack to leave Yugoslavia.

Mr. Julian telephoned every morning at eight o'clock. When I spoke to him sharply, ordering him to cease and desist, he answered, “It's that I'm loving you. It's that I am dying because of you. It's that I'm falling in front of a train.”

I asked the desk clerk to stop putting his calls through to our room. The clerk said, “In Yugoslavia, we answer the telephone.” Martha refused to answer the ring any longer, for when she told him on the second morning that I was out, he responded with: “In Belgrade? There is no place for her to go. Maybe she is going to the bathroom. I will telephone later.” Ten minutes later he said to her, “This is being Mr. Julian. I am wanting to speaking with Mistress Maya Angelou.”

Ordinary courtesy bade me to exchange places with Martha so that I could at least answer the telephone.

“Mistress Maya, it's that I am dying.”

“All right, Mr. Julian. I can't help that. Only please, don't send me any other parts of your anatomy.”

Harsh words did not deter him, nor did kind words give him solace. I answered the telephone each morning and unemotionally, fuzzily and sleepily told him to get lost.

Other members in the cast reported similar conquests. Women fairly hung on the coattails of the bachelor singers, and one evening when Martha was taken to a ballet by an admirer, I left Ethel in the room manicuring her nails and went down to the bath.

When I returned, she was sitting yoga fashion on the bed and a strange man was spread-eagled, face down, on the floor at the foot of her bed.

I stood in the door in mild shock.

Ethel said, “Maya, I've been waiting for you. Help me to get this fool out of the room.”

I threw down my towel and soap.

“Mister, mister. Get up.” I turned to Ethel who had risen from her lotus position and was standing at the man's feet. “Is he drunk?”

“No, girl, he's crazy.”

“O.K. Mister, we're going to put you out in the hall.”

His cheek was on the carpet and his eyes wide open. “It is not that I am being drunk. It is that I am loving Mistress Ethel. It is that her love is killing me. It is burning in my heart like a fire.”

I said, “O.K. I understand.”

Ethel said, “Here, Maya, you take the left foot. I'll take the right. We'll drag him.”

The man made no resistance and allowed his body to be scudded across the room. I opened the door and we deposited him, still flat on his stomach, in the hall. Throughout the action, he had continued his litany.

“I am loving Mistress Ethel. I am dying out of love for Mistress Ethel.”

We closed the door.

“Ethel, how in the hell did he get in here?”

“There was a knock at the door, and I thought it was you. So I said ‘Come in,’ and in comes this fool. He takes one look at me and falls flat on the floor. I thought maybe he had died or something so I went around and bent over him. To take his pulse. That's when I saw his eyes were open and he started chanting, ‘Mistress Ethel, I am loving you. Dying! Killing myself’ And all that stuff.”

“Why didn't you call the desk?”

“I figured you'd be back soon, and he seemed harmless.”

We were laughing when we heard Martha's voice at the door and a series of quick raps.

“Hey open the door. Open up, will you?”

Ethel went to the door and opened it. She called, “Maya, come quick.

Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader