The Complete Stories - Flannery O'Connor [14]
“That raise Hawk’s promised don’t apply to teachers like him anyway,” somebody said from the back of the room. A fat man with an air of executive assurance came over near Rayber. “He’s a college teacher, ain’t he?”
“Yeah,” the barber said, “that’s right. He wouldn’t get Hawk’s raise; but say, he wouldn’t get one if Darmon was elected neither.”
“Ahh, he’d get something. All the schools are supporting Darmon. They stand to get their cut-free textbooks or new desks or something. That’s the rules of the game.”
“Better schools,” Rayber sputtered, “benefit everybody.”
“Seems like I been hearin’ that a long time,” the barber said.
“You see,” the man explained, “you can’t put nothing over on the schools. That’s the way they throw it off—benefits everybody.”
The barber laughed.
“If you ever thought…” Rayber began.
“Maybe there’d be a new desk at the head of the room for you,” the man chortled. “How about that, Joe?” He nudged the barber.
Rayber wanted to lift his foot under the man’s chin. “You ever heard about reasoning?” he muttered.
“Listen,” the man said, “you can talk all you want. What you don’t realize is, we’ve got an issue here. How’d you like a couple of black faces looking at you from the back of your classroom?”
Rayber had a blind moment when he felt as if something that wasn’t there was bashing him to the ground. George came in and began washing basins. “Willing to teach any person willing to learn—black or white,” Rayber said. He wondered if George had looked up.
“All right,” the barber agreed, “but not mixed up together, huh’ How’d you like to go to a white school, George?” he shouted.
“Wouldn’t like that,” George said. “We needs sommo powders. These here the las’ in this box.” He dusted them out into the basin.
“Go get some then,” the barber said.
“The time has come,” the executive went on, “just like Hawkson said, when we got to sit on the lid with both feet and a mule.” He went on to review Hawkson’s Fourth of July speech.
Rayber would like to have pushed him into the basin. The day was hot and full enough of flies without having to spend it listening to a fat fool. He could see the courthouse sq narc, blue-green cool, through the tinted glass window. He wished to hell the barber would hurry. He fixed his attention on the square outside, feeling himself there where, he could tell from the trees, the air was moving slightly. A group of men sauntered up the courthouse walk. Rayber looked more closely and thought he recognized Jacobs. But Jacobs had a late afternoon class. It was Jacobs, though. Or was it. If it were, who was he talking to? Blakeley’ Or was that Blakeley. He squinted. Three colored boys in zoot suits strolled by on the sidewalk. One dropped down on the pavement so that only his head was visible to Rayber, and the other two lounged over him, leaning against the barbershop window and making a hole in the view. Why the hell can’t they park somewhere else? Rayber thought fiercely. “Hurry up,” he said to the barber, “I have an appointment.”
“What’s your hurry?” the fat man said. “You better stay and stick up for Boy Blue.”
”You know you never told us why you’re gonna vote for him,” the barber chuckled, taking the cloth from around Rayber’s neck.
“Yeah,” the fat man said, “see can you tell us without sayin’, goodgovermint.”
“I have an appointment,” Rayber said. “I can’t stay.”
“You just know Darmon is so sorry you won’t he able to say a good word for him,” the fat man howled.
“Listen,” Rayber said, “I’ll be back in here next week and I’ll give you as many reasons for voting for Darmon as you want better reasons than you’ve given me fur voting for Hawkson.”
“I’d like to see you do that,” the barber said. “Because I’m telling you, it can’t be done.”
“All right, we’ll see,” Rayber said.
“Remember,” the fat man carped, “vou ain’t gonna say, goodgovermint.”
“I won’t say anything you can’t understand,” Rayber muttered and then felt foolish for showing his irritation. The fat man and the barber were grinning. “I’ll see you Tuesday,” Rayber said and left. He was disgusted with himself for