if beale street could talk by james baldwin

chapter 3

She knows Daddy better than I do. I think it's because she's felt since we were children that our Daddy maybe loved me more than he loves her. This isn't true, and she knows that now – people love different people in different ways – but it must have seemed that way to her when we were little. I look as though I just can't make it, she looks like can't nothing stop her. If you look helpless, people react to you in one way and if you look strong, or just come on strong, people react to you in another way, and, since you don't see what they see, this can be very painful. I think that's maybe why Sis was always in front of that damn mirror all the time, when we were kids. She was saying, I don't care. I got me. Of course, this only made her come on stronger than ever, which was the last effect she desired: but that's the way we are and that's how we can sometimes get so fucked up. Anyway, she's past all that. She knows who she is, or, at least, she knows who she damn well isn't; and since she's no longer terrified of uprisings in those forces which she lives with and has learned how to use and subdue, she can walk straight ahead into anything; and so she can cut Daddy off when he's talking – which I can't do. She moved away from me a little and put my glass in my hand. "Unbow your head, sister," she said, and raised her glass and touched mine. "Save the children," she said, very quietly, and drained her glass.

Mama said, "To the newborn," and Daddy said, "I hope it's a boy. That'd tickle old Frank to pieces, I bet." Then he looked at me. "Do you mind," he asked me, "if I'm the one to tell him, Tish?"

I said, "No. I don't mind."

"Well, then!" he said, grinning, "maybe I'll go on over there now."

"Maybe you better phone first," Mama said. "He don't stay home a whole lot, you know." "I sure would like to be the one to tell them sisters," said Ernestine.

Mama laughed, and said, "Joe, why don't you just call up and ask them all over here? Hell, it's Saturday night and it ain't late and we still got a lot of brandy in the bottle. And, now that I think about it, it's really the best way to do it."

"That's all right with you, Tish?" Daddy asked me.

"It's got to be done," I said.

So, Daddy stood up, after watching me for a moment, and walked into the living room, to the phone. He could have used the wall phone in the kitchen but he had that kind of grim smile on his face which he has when he knows he's got business to take care of and when he wants to make sure you know enough to stay out of it.

We listened to him dialing the number. That was the only sound in the house. Then, we could hear the phone at the other end, ringing. Daddy cleared his throat.

We heard, "Mrs. Hunt–? Oh. Good evening, Mrs. Hunt. This is Joe Rivers talking. I just wondered if I could please speak to Frank, if he's home – Thank you, Mrs. Hunt " Mama grunted, and winked at Sis.

"Hey! – How you doing? Yeah, this is Joe. I'm all right, man, hanging in, you know – say, listen – oh, yeah, Tish saw him this afternoon, man, he's fine. – Yeah – As a matter of fact, man, we got a whole lot to talk about, that's why I'm calling you. – I can't go into all that over the phone, man. Listen. It concerns all of us. – Yes. – Listen. Don't give me all that noise. You all just jump in the car and come on over here. Now. Yeah. That's right. Now – What? – Look, man, I said it concerns all of us. – Ain't nobody here dressed neither, she can come in her fucking bathrobe for all I care. – Shut up, you sick mother. I'm trying to be nice. Shit. Don't be bitter – Just dump her in the back seat of the car, and drive, now, come on, man. This is serious. – Hey. Pick up a six pack, I'll pay you when you get here. – Yeah. – Look. Will you hang up this phone and get your ass, I mean your collective ass, on over here, man? – In a minute. Bye." He came back into the kitchen, smiling.