Sadie's Travels
One of my oldest memories is of fire...the hot, acrid smell of smoke...a crowd gathered, yelling...my mother screaming...and two loud, heavy, life-altering pops. A shotgun I think. I was later told the fire I remembered was a huge cross burning on our lawn. It wasn't a large lawn, just a small patch really, but my father was pretty proud of how green he kept it. Someone told someone, who told someone else, that my father said something inappropriate to Mrs. Shawnee, the white woman my mother cleaned house for. Actually, considering I had been eavesdropping, my father had simply asked when they planned to pay the balance on my mother's wages. They had short-changed her again. And then I remember fire and smoke, and my mother shoving me into a tiny cupboard, where I stayed for almost 48 hours before anyone thought to come looking for me. That was in South Carolina, 1937.
The next part of my life was spent being shuttled from neighbor to neighbor. Back then blacks didn't rely on services funded by the state to take care of orphaned kids. Oh, did I mention both my parents were killed that night? I began my adventures with Mrs. Middleton, a woman who lived two doors down from us. But she and her husband already had four kids and she was pregnant. So when she gave birth, I spent two years with another neighbor, Mrs. Freeman, who only had a son and a daughter. Her husband had been killed, I'm not sure how. I liked living with Mrs. Freeman. She made sure I went to school, we had plenty to eat, their house was bigger than most and I had my own room. The only problem was her teenage son. He decided he would practice his "stroke" on me...and I don't mean golf. When Mrs. Freeman found out he was sneaking into my room at night, she decided I had to go.
Eventually I was shipped off to live with a neighbor who moved out of town. And then a neighbor who moved out of the state. Some of the homes were pretty nice and some of the families made me feel welcome. Others saw me as another mouth to feed, a live-in servant, or easy access to a female body. Finally I was shipped all the way up to New York City.
*
Harlem. When I first arrived, I was stunned. The grocery stores, barber shops, restaurants, clothing stores...all owned by blacks. Black men and women dressed in dark suits, beautiful, colorful dresses, pencil slim skirts and billowy blouses, high heels in different colors...and they wore those outfits every day, not only on Sunday! I was staying with Mrs. Johnson on 124
th
and Lenox. She was in her fifties and lived alone in a huge three bedroom apartment, her husband having died some years ago. I can't begin to explain how difficult it was for her to adjust to having a kid around, but she did it. We lived beside a black owned grocery store and a black owned tailor. I went to school with all black children and even the teachers were black. It was an amazing reality, blacks living well, happy, and safe. I liked this life and enjoyed the security and stability of it for years.
But when I was 25, Mrs. Johnson died of a heart attack. I had finished high school a little later than most, considering I'd missed a few years with all the moving around, and college, at that time, wasn't something most blacks considered. So, I was working at the tailor next door as a seamstress. It was a skill Mrs. Johnson had insisted I learn and I was grateful I would be able to continue working there, and living in the apartment, because I had a trade. Still, her death was a shock to me. I was numb for quite some time. But after about a year, it dawned on me that I was on my own. I didn't have anyone to look out for me, true, but I also didn't have to report to anyone. And so, with that realization, I started accepting dates from the men that visited the shop where I worked. First it was Donald. Everyone called him Donnie. He was tall, rail thin, dark skinned, and he worked in a factory. Factory workers made good money. I'm sure Mrs. Johnson would have approved the match if she had allowed me to date, which she hadn't. He took me to see
Rear
Window
and it was fantastic. It was my first visit to a movie theater and I fell in love with movies right then and there. We also went to The Lenox Lounge, one of the more popular dance lounges in Harlem. I had never been to a dance lounge before either. I had my first taste of alcohol, danced for hours on end, and went home happy and a little tipsy. But when Donnie tried to kiss me goodnight after our fourth date...I panicked. I'm not sure why, he was perfectly nice. But...I just didn't want to. So I stopped seeing Donnie.
The same thing happened with Larry and Richard. We would go out a few times, to a movie theater or a club, but whenever they wanted to get a little closer, I would panic. So, I had planned to stop dating. Maybe the fast lane just wasn't for me? I was thinking this as I sat in a booth at The Savoy, dressed in a purple, satin, knee-length dress, sipping a fruity cocktail, watching the couples dance to the big band's cool music. I was with Charles, or Chuckie as everyone called him. I wasn't sure what he did, but he seemed to know a lot of people at the club and he seemed to be comfortable spending a lot of money. We had one of the best booths, a waiter catered to our every need, people stopped by to say hello to him all night long...he was clearly a big shot. The attention was nice, and Chuckie was handsome, tall, with broad shoulders and a slight bulge around his middle. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit that had cost a small fortune. Mr. Mitchell, my boss, had ordered the material from Italy and it had taken months to complete the order. I had been responsible for the intricate stitch around the seams and I was proud of the job. He was pretty nice for the most part, although he wasn't as attentive as my other dates had been.
We spent hours at the club. I was nodding off when he finally noticed how tired I was. He sent the waiter to retrieve my wrap, but on the way out he stopped to talk to some more people. He didn't bother to introduce me, so I moved to the side and looked around at the people who were just arriving. I couldn't believe anyone could stay awake this long. Thank goodness tomorrow was Sunday and I could sleep in. That's what I was thinking when I noticed another regular customer from the shop. Everyone called him Lin. Lin was smaller in build than most of the other male customers and his orders always took a little longer because of this, but he was sweet and a very good tipper. He was always
very
nice to me. When he caught my eye across the crowd, I smiled and waved. He separated from his party and walked over. I liked to watch him walk. He moved differently compared to other men. Dressed in a tailored black suit, with a black shirt and red tie, he had a bit of a swagger, but it wasn't as exaggerated as the other guys. There was a fluidity to the way he walked, the way he moved, it was graceful...almost poetic. He was also quite attractive, dark skinned with close cropped hair, rather bulky, especially his arms. He was a very much sought after man because of how he behaved, how much money he had...and who he dated. Tonight? She was curvaceous, honey colored and quite lovely. Younger than me, she was dressed in a form fitting red dress that matched Lin's tie. They made an attractive couple.
"Hey, what you doin' here?" He asked when he finally made his way over to me, a smile dancing around his warm, chestnut brown eyes.
I appreciated Lin's slightly protective nature. He'd become just a little more of a big brother after Mrs. Johnson died. And he hadn't been too happy when I told him I was dating some of the customers. That probably explained why I hadn't told him about Chuckie. Lin didn't like Chuckie. I wasn't sure why, but there was bad blood between them. However, there really wasn't a way around such a direct question, so I pointed in Chuckie's direction.
"Waiting to leave actually," I smiled shyly.
He looked in the direction I was pointing and I watched the warmth in his eyes disappear. When he turned back to me, I could see his eyes had darkened a bit.
"He takin' you home?"
"I think," I answered, surprised by the harshness in his voice.
He nodded, reaching into his inside jacket pocket and removing a business card.
"You need anything, or if anything happens and you—...you just call me, okay?"
It wasn't really a request, so I just took the card and nodded. Odd, Lin had never asked me to call him before. He turned and left as Chuckie made his way over. I was a little confused by the entire exchange, quietly thinking about it as I followed Chuckie from the club. The valet hailed a checkered cab and I slid into the spacious back seat. I was surprised when Chuckie closed the door without getting in.
"You're okay from here, right? I'll get the cab."
And that was it. He handed the driver a few bills and went back inside the club. I'd never been left on my own to get home before. I sat in silence, not sure what to do next. The cab driver finally asked for my address and I gave it to him. To be honest, I was only a short distance from my apartment, but it was still odd that he had not escorted me to my door. I was a little nervous as the cab pulled away from the curb. Suddenly, someone whistled shrilly and the cab came to an abrupt halt. The back door opened and Lin slid in. I sighed and smiled, relieved.
