hat correct? You’re a man of color living in a segregated society, but you don’t have an opinion about integration?”
“It ain’t nothing I have control over.”
“You want a smoke?”
“Thank you. I’m not supposed to light up on the job.”
“I figure if a man has fought for his country, he should have the same rights as any other man,” Hershel said.
The black man raised his eyes long enough to glance at the men inside the icehouse. “Yes, suh, that would make sense.”
“What’s your name?”
“Lawrence.”
“A colored washwoman saved my life. She was a juju woman. I was wrapped up in a rubber sheet. If she hadn’t looked through the window and seen me, I wouldn’t be here today.”
“I got to get on it, suh.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Yes, suh, that would be fine.”
“Did your wife ever mess around on you?”
“I ain’t ever been married. I thought about it, though. There’s a lady at the church I go out wit’.”
Hershel lit his cigarette. The smoke rose from his mouth as white as a cotton bole. What had he been talking about? The subject seemed to have dissolved into thin air. His head began to droop, his concentration to fade. “Sorry, I feel like I got malaria. Except I don’t. I guess I better go home.”
“Suh, there’s two men yonder in that car. They been looking at you. Maybe you shouldn’t be driving nowhere right now.”
“Which men?”
“They got suits and hats on. One of them comes in here. He’s a bad white man.”
“Say that again.”
“I didn’t mean nothing by it. I just didn’t want to see you have no trouble.”
“When a colored person says a white man is bad, he’s pretty bad. Have I got it right?”
“I ain’t saying no more.”
When he stood up, Hershel had to steady himself with the tips of his fingers on the tabletop. “I hope you marry the church lady. I bet she’ll do right by you.”
“That’s your truck on the street?”
“That’s it. Give me your arm, will you?”
“Suh, don’t do this.”
“You know how to count cadence? Tell you what. I’ll count it and you march it, and the two of us will get me over to the truck.”
Lawrence backed away, shaking his head, his eyes on the ground, his hands clenched on the broom handle. “Suh, I need this job. I cain’t be getting in other people’s business.”
“I cain’t blame you,” Hershel said. “Take care.”
“You, too, suh.”