Dee whispered, “I bet th’ th’ dam Mississippi Kul Klux Klan hates Yainkees now! Or anyone with huh’Yainkee accent.” Then her voice went back to her normal volume in the beauty shop,
“yep, that magazine there tells the same story. Shotgun’s daughter tells it from a loving daughter’s eyes. Pretty sad for their families, I guess. They don’t know whether to be ashamed of them or continue to love them like Gods.” Then she replayed what she said way back then to Frankie.
“My friend, Rico, one of Shotguns’s men said they were paid pret-T-good! Him and another guy named Tony stayed for three more days with us before they went back up North. Said somethin’ bout needin’ to stay inside. They didn’t wanna be seen outside for a couple of days. Said they were gonna split up on the way back up north. To be on the safe side, I think….not sure, really. That damned Yainkee accent. I couldn’t understand half of what he was sayin’most of the time.”
Dee lit another cigarette and blew out the window.
“"But I did understand him when he said that if I ever have any trouble outta’ ‘em just give’im a call and he’d come down here for the sear joy of it and beat the sweet-Hell outta’ them again. I believed him then and I still believe he would".
“Yeah, girl. No kiddin’”
Dee continued, “Later on that year Tony took my friend, Irene, up North and they’re still together. We keep in touch. We were pretty close back then. So I know I can find Rico if I wanted to. Still talk to Irene ‘bout once a year. Round Easter.”
“That’s good girl!” Then Frankie asked, ”What do you think we’ll see tonight?”
"Don’t know what to ‘pect ta’night. Just remember, they’re not as dangerous anymore as what they want people to think. Those yainkees spoke their language in Missippissppi pretty good. ‘Cause if you’ll think back, we haven’t heard of too much involving the K.K.K. in years. At least no one but the police killing any niggers. Hell no! They don’t wanna get blamed for anymore nigger killings." Dee laughed until she started coughing again.
“"OOOH, so they were the Mafia, huh?"”
“"Yeah, pretty sure they were. Didn’t you hear anything I said? Frankie, sometimes you really worry me. Are you drinkin’ again?"”
Frankie blew the smoke behind her out of the window.
Then Frankie said, “I told that crazy bitch sittin’ over there,” pointing at Odessa.
“"No, I ain’t drinkin’ this time! This crap Dale started is just too much for me rat’ now. I don’t know what’s happening half th’ time. ‘Cain’t think rat’. Forget everything. It’s just too much. You know, gurl? A nigger woman? Oh Sweet Lord! Dale’s screwed everything within three towns and two counties. I’ve put up with it all these years ‘cause I didn’t care. I needed his money. But this time, it’s just too much? It really hurts. And Sunny ta boot? I have ta’ draw the line. Hell, I didn’t think she’d mess with his ugly ass. I thought she was better than that. You know? Don’t know what to believe anymore. This time I’m really hurt and so mad at the Su’n’a’ bitch I could spit!"
Gus remembered out loud,
“That’s when I sat back in the seat. Thinking, mmmm, maybe Dale has bigger balls than I thought.”
Everyone giggled and a couple of the lady’s pointed at Frankie.
Gus continued, “The ride was taking a while. Then it occurred to me to ask,
“"Where’re we going?"”
Chapter ? Texas Armadillo Eggs
“I hadn’t put the mafia story together yet with Frankie’s dilemma and where we might be going. Hell, I never dreamed a K.K.K. rally. Not in a million years. Aunt Dee was watching me in the mirror when she answered me with her smoky-ass voice,” then Gus tried to imitate Dee’s deep voice.
“"To a K.K.K. Rally, Baby-doll." Aunt Dee saw the instant fright in my eyes. I know
she did.”
Dee started laughing, “You dammed right I did. Gus turned gray!”
“The in a high voice I shrilled, “"Why?"”
“I was thinking I wanna live to see High School and get my driver’s license. I’m only Thirteen! Scared the piss outta’ me. I knew who the KKK was. Heard all the stories of what they did ta’ people who don’t agree with’em. Aunt Odessa smiled at me. Tryin to make me think it was nothing. Like she was tryin’ to gonna assure me or somethin’. Please.”
“"Don’t worry honey. You’re with me. I’m never gonna let anything happen ta’you. Okay?””
“I knew deep down inside I was always safe with Aunt Dee. I figured if push-come-ta-shove Dee would cut someone’s throat for me. But I was still scared of the K.K.K.’s legend. Gotta’ say, that night I was a little iffy on my safety, even with Aunt Dee. The voice in my head was screaming "They’re crazy. Open the door and jump out at the next stop sign!" Gus was laughing thinking back.
“"You still didn’t say why,” I asked.”
“"We’re signing Dale up with the K.K.K.!" Aunt Dee looked back at me again and then over at Frankie and we all started laughing.”
Her beauty-shop-audenice started laughing too.
““Dale is a dirty-low down-dog and we were gonna fix him good,” Aunt Dee said.”
Frankie stood there by Mrs. Tooley’s chair smiling at Gus.
“Poor Frankie couldn’t divorce Dale, ‘”cause they had all those screamin’ kids.”
Frankie felt she had to live with all of his cheatin’ to take care of herself and the kids. For thousands of years women have had to stay in horrible marriages and still do today all over the world.
“Frankie was devastated. Sick. I could see it. Part of the problem was that we all knew the woman he was rumored to be cheating with. Sunny. She was Lucy’s niece, from Atlanta. Lu was my Grammies old house keeper. And to my daddy, his mammy. She was practicality family to all of us.”
Dee takes over again, ”see all of our families knew each other from way back to slave times. As rumor had it, on this side of the track and in the black quarters, Sunny was supposed to be the black lady Dale dallied with. She was a lady. Smart and a very beautiful woman. For any woman, black or white! Frankie didn’t know her, but she knew Lucy and that was good enough for her to know Sunny wasn’t trash. Sunny was from good- people.”
Frankie broke in, “I didn’t blame Sunny. She probably didn’t know Dale was married with four screamin’ kids and another one on the way. I blamed Dale. He knew it.”
Gus pointed out, “yeah, normally, Frankie had the tendency to talk trash about all of the others but I noticed she didn’t have anything ugly about Sunny. I figured it was out of some kind of respect for Lucy.”
Frankie nodded her red head. She had tears in her eyes, “Lucy was such a good soul.”
Gus continued,
“Apparently, Lucy didn’t know Sunny and Dale was “seeing each other”, because if she did, she would’ve put a stop to it and sent Sunny back to Atlanta. How they kept it from Lucy was amazing. Everyone wanted to protect Lucy I guess, ‘cause she wouldn’t approved of it, a’tall! If she did find out she’d been beatin’ th’sense back into Sunny’s head. Her name that would’ve been tarnished. Lucy wouldn’t be disrespected like that or lose her job over something like this. No ma’am!”
Frankie was still crying and whispered again, “Lucy was such a good soul.”
Gus started again, “Yes she was. Lucy loved her Hank baby, my daddy. Oh Larrd, he loved her. Probably more than he did his own mama, Charlotte. Lucy started working for Grammy Charlotte when Hank was two days old. Lu was 15 and already an expert with babies. She was the oldest of fourteen. Lu was his Mammy. Daddy called her Aunt Lucy. Still talks about her.”
“Later when Ms. Lottie and Lu was pushing their Fifties and Sixties, Lu walked across the field every day during the week to clean and cook for her and Ms. Lottie. That’s when I came along. I remember Lu and Lottie talkin’ about whose turn it was to rock me too. Lu smelled so nice and I could feel her being more relaxed than Ms. Lottie was with me.” Lottie would tell her, “I’m her Grammy! Give’er to me.” “na’, it’s my turn, you had’er all to your self yesterday.”
“It was just the two of them. There wasn’t not much to clean. Cooked enough for two. They took turns cookin’ too. They usually just watched their soaps, cleaned up the dishes and then sat out on th’ porch together like twin sisters. Most times crocheting pineapple table clothes they liked to make for new brides, black and white. Once a week, Hank sent Tassie over, who is much younger, to do the real cleaning. Lu watched‘er like a hawk and was delighted to show’er ““how to do it right. All th’ old maid ways.””
Gus tried to laugh, but a tear dropped instead. “Till the day she died Hank took care of Lu. Paid all of her bills and didn’t care what anyone, black or white had to say about it.”
Everyone smiled. “Your daddy is such a good man. Just like his daddy.” Mrs. Tooley said to Frankie.
“I think so too.”
Gus thought some more about Aunt Lu. “I was so glad Lu and daddy never found out about us going to a rally too. “Lu’d been so hurt and upset. Hank would be furious at Dee and Frankie. No one cared what mama thought. And I’d be so embarrassed about it too, cause “we ain’t like those people”, I thought.”
Dee took over from there…“Problem was, Gus didn’t know how deep slavery ran in our little town. It’s only been a lil’ ‘ver a hundred and sixty years ago lots of families here owned slaves. My family too, apparently. But none of the older ones talked about it. Guess they didn’t want us younger to know that we owned slaves too.
In their case and in most other cases, the slaves were already having to use their owner’s names. You know, someone would say “James Green’s “Henry” is here to pick up that flour.” You know, what I mean. So it was easier to say Henry Green’s coming for some flour. Once they freed the slaves, they just kept the last names. Like Uncle Henry, some of ya’ll might remember Uncl’ Henry. He told me he became known as Henry Green when he was a teenager. Said he liked it too. I barely remember him. He was so tall and sooo old. Don’t know how he didn’t die earlier, really. For all the work he did. He told me about him pickin’ cotton for my great-grandfather. Yes, indeed.”
“After Texas freed our slaves, they became “paid” employees for their former masters. The money they was paid was called “slave wages” back then. That’s where that sayin’ comes from. Or meaning no pay at all.” She motioned with her fingers, “You know “slave wages.” Slave wages wasn’t much, barely enough to say they were paid. White men didn’t like that a’tall, I bet. Kept them outta work.”
“If they had to, old rich white men would pay a white man twice as much for the same work. But, that didn’t happen too often for a while, I bet’cha. Slowly as time went by, former slaves and their children and grandchildren became skilled, got better jobs and were made to leave the plantation or pay rent for the shacks they were living in. Some didn’t wanna leave everything they knew. Some sharecropped, like Lu’s mama and daddy.”
“Many just stayed on, like lu’s Daddy and Uncle Henry. Girl, let me tell you, they worked themselves to death trying to make a living on the land that they were slaves on. I saw’em up ‘til I was a teenager. Who’d blame them? It was all they knew. Knew what to expect here. Being free was more than they could imagine or worry about for some of the older ones. Where would they live? How would they pay for their homes? Where would they work? Would there be enough work? How will they be treated by white folk then? Where will they buy their staples? Many white folk was not gonna sell anything to a nigger. Only a few would. The old slaves felt secure there on the land they were born on and slowly one by one they died and usually buried on the same place. Uncle Henry and his family has a little grave yard on the east side of my great-grandfather’s place. You know where my cousin James lives now.
Sometimes their former master would allow them to share-chop a small piece of land in trade of the title to the property. Most died before it was paid off. That was the only way many black folk made it in the country side, away for town and cities. No white man would openly sell a piece of property to a black man. Lucy’s family was one of the last ones. Her mama, daddy and a couple of her brothers were born slaves, on our place. Her freed father chose to keep the Green name. Lucy was also born on the farm, but she wasn’t born a slave.
And Gus was still too naïve or just thought that the families went way back in a friendly way. Unfortunately, that was not the case at all. Gus finally clicked to it years ago when she realized we all have the same last name. I still have a Certificate of Freedom for a twenty-six year old black female named Chrissy. I have my suspicions about that too.
“Really?” Mrs. Tooley asked.
“Yep. You’ll have to come over and see it sometime.”
“I’d love to.”
“But that’s another story. I still have to connect all of the dots. All of the ones who knew the truth are gone now. I’d probably have to force everyone ‘round here,” she swung her right arm out into a big arch, “ta’ have blood tests to find out the truth. But blood tests don’t tell much. Maybe one day they’ll have a better way to tell such thaings. Who Knows?”
Gus chimed in again,” Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Aunt Dee’s right, it took me a while to figure it out. No one would told me a dammed thaing ‘bout our names being the same. “
“But getting’ back to the ride over ta Vidor. I thought Dee and Frankie lost their dam minds this time. No, but, hell no, I thought, ain’t telling a dam soul about this. This was 1970. I thought for sure, the year of my pending death! This little trip was very upsettin’ to me.”
“There was an invisible balance to maintain. It’s a set of unspoken rules we lived by back then even up to the sixties and seventies.”
Dee broke in on her, “Honey, I felt the same way when I was a girl in the forties and fifties.”
Gus continued, “I bet you did, Aunt Dee. It was how we were expected to speak and treat black folk. Thaings you could say or not say ta’em. Do or not do. Things they tried to teach me. Thaings they were taught to believe, I guess. I didn’t like it. Never did. They said “Nigger ain’t got no souls.” God made them just like he made everyone else. If you were brave enough to challenge those beliefs you’d get yelled at or worse!
The only whites who could take up for black folk, had money. I couldn’t take up for anyone. I had to maintain life as a child and to agree quietly with what some of Grammie’s older cousins. I had great aunt and uncles were trying to teach me crap too. “Treat niggers like niggers.” I wanted to take up for black people I saw being abused but couldn’t. Hated that feelin’ when I was little
“There are some people in our family who are horrible racists. I couldn’t say a thaing to’em while I was a child. I hated it. They were all my elders and you don’t tell your elders how to speak to someone. Now if one of ’em calls me a nigger lover, I just give’em a go-to-Hell-look, smile at’em. Wonder to myself, “when are you gonna die?”
The ones who are still alive and able are the worst kind. Nice to their faces and hate’em behind their backs. Not much has changed for a lot of people. They still live in the past. I thought back then, here’s me, a child, loving both of’em and watchin’ the whole ugly scene. One of these days! One thaing I learned as a child is that it’s safer to just agree with ‘em. Not say a thaing. Keep quiet and go along with them. Nod every now and then. I would think “when I grow up I want to say and do the right things.”
Od Jim Crow laws created it and people on both sides were still quietly living with those dam rules, blindly. I guess, because of what was happening in the big cities to other black people. Guess in a horrible way those rules kept it was peaceful here in the rural south. No one forced their hand. My children will see me do the right thing by black folk. Yeah, I’ll get called a nigger lover, but that’s fine! Shouldn’t treat people that way.” Ok. Enough of my soap box and on with the K.K.K. story…
“Before I knew it, we were driving past Vidor headed toward Orange. The highway was getting’ worse as we got closer to Orange. Interstate Highway 10 was a like an old log trail. Bumpy and full of big pot holes. Even for the Caddie. Then Aunt Dee said smooth as butter,
“"There they are."”
“Movin’ up on th’ seat, I looked up between Dee and Frankie. There he was, I saw my first fully dressed Klansman. Hood and all…he was carryin’ a shotgun. Out in the open. In front of God and everybody! Then another one appeared behind him, then another. They were near the entrance to field. There was one who didn’t have his hood on. It was draped down his back. Must not’ve cared who saw him, I thought. To me it looked like they were “on guard” around the opening of that field.” Then laughing she said,” Like someone sneaking in there might be a problem? No one in their right mind would want to sneak in there. Damn morons!” Gus was being so animated telling her side of the story everyone was laughing at her.
“They were guarding the field from protestors, I guess? Some Civil Rights people and the “Nigger lovers” as they were called later, showed up with their signs and was yellin’ shit at’em? They were beginning to be challenged by other white people with “why don’t you wanna show you face?” “Take your hood off coward.”
Gus continued onward, later that night before the big man go up and talked, we heard’em shoot buckshot above their heads. But a lady in a lawn chair saw our faces and she said, “Don’t worry they shoot up in the air, only so th’ protestors can hear the BB’s falling on the feeder road. Justta’ run them off.” But it didn’t work that night. They stayed. Just a little further back. They were still standing and marching up and down the side of the fence when we left.”
“The Klansman was parking people’s cars in the small holding pasture. You know, like at an old time fair. Being friendly, laughing while they directed and parked people’s cars in the old pasture. The one at the gate was on the right side of Dee’s caddie was hoodless. Seemed friendly enough, waving at people as they turned in. He was smiling when he bent down to see what Frankie wanted to say to him. She looked at him like she mad as hell. Being all nervy. I couldn’t believe what Frankie asked him.
““Yes,’ma’am. Can I help you ladies?” Mr. Gateman asked, being friendly. He’s being such the gentleman tonight, I thought. Southern men, even in the K. K. K.. Frankie took the cigarette out of her mouth and answered,
“"Yes you can.”” “She pointed down at her belly and said,”
“"I’m due in two weeks and I cain’t walk that far.”” Then she pointed up”
to the stage. Frankie continued,
““You see that good-lookin’ man on the goose-neck trailer?” “Frankie was pointing
toward the gooseneck trailer they were using for a stage. It was all dressed up in red, white and blue sheets and fabic.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
“Well honey… that’s my oldest brother. Think you can help me out now?"
“The nice Klansman put his hands up, then brushing away the white sheet in the way of his expressive hands and said,
“"Yes ma’am. Gottca’ covered, sug’. Ya’ll have the best seats in the house."”