CHESTER HIMES

let me at the enemy an' george brown
1944

It warn't that I minded the twenty-five bucks so much. Twenty-five A bucks ain't gonna break a man. An every cat looks to get hooked some time or other, even a hustler as slick as me. 'Fore it was done I wished I'da just give this icky twenty-five bucks and forgot 'bout it.

But even at that if n it hadn't been for him puttin' all them fancy ideas in my queen's head he never woulda got me. That jive he was pullin' was sad. But my queen, she like a lot of those queens 'round L.A. nowdays—done gone money mad.

We was at the Creole Breakfast Club knockm' ourselves out when this icky George Brown butts in. Ain't nobody called him an' I hardly knew the man, just seen him four or five times 'round the pool room where I worked. He takes a seat at our table an' grabs my glass of licker an' asts, "Is you mad at anybody?"

I was gettin' mad but I didn't tell him. "Me?" I laughed, tryna be a good fellow. "Only at the man what put me in 1-A."

The bugler caught a spot for a rift in Don't Cry Baby an' blew off my ear. All down the line the cats latched on, shoulders rocked, heads bobbed, the joint jumped. My queen 'gan bouncin' out her twelve dollar dress.

George waited for the bugler to blow outa breath then he said, "Thass what I mean. You ain't mad at nobody yet you gotta go to war. Thass 'cause you's a fool."

I didn't mind the man drinkin' my licker so much, nor even callin' me a fool. But when I seen my queen, Beulah, give him the eye an' then get prissy as a sissy, I figured I better get him gone. 'Cause this George Brown was strictly an icky, drape-shaped in a fine brown zoot with a pancho conk slicker'n mine. So I said, "State you plan, Charlie Chan—then scram!"

"Don't rush me, man, don't rush me," he said. "You needs me, I don't need you. If'n you was to die tomorrow wouldn't mean nothing to me. Pour me some mo' of that licker."

"I want some of it."

"Naw, Massa, you don't want none uh dat dirty lil' possum."

"Yes I do, and if you don't give me some, I'll have you whipped."

John slowly arose and got a plate, knife and fork and opened the pot.

"Well," he said resignedly before dipping in. "Ah put dis heah critter in heah a possum,—if it comes out a pig, 'tain't mah fault."

Stepped on a tin, mah story ends.

He come on so fast I done took out my half pint bottle an poured him a shot under the table 'fore I knew what I was doin'. Then I got mad. "This ain't no river, man," I said.

"Thass what I mean," he said. "Here you is strainin' yo'self to keep up a front. You works in the pool room all day an' you makes 'bout ten bucks. Then comes night an' you takes out yo' queen. You pays two bucks to get in this joint, fo' bucks for a half pint grog, two bucks for a coke setup. If'n you get anything to eat you got to fight the man 'bout the bill. For ten bucks a day you drinkin' yo'self in the grave on cheap licker."

"You calls fo' bucks a half pint cheap," I snarled.

He kept drivin' like he didn't hear me. "Then what happen? They put you in 1-A and say you gotta fight. You don't wanna fight 'cause you ain't mad at nobody—not even at the man what charge you fo' bucks for a half pint grog. Ain't got sense 'nough to be mad. So what does you do?"

"What does I do?" I just looked at that icky.

"Well, what does you do?" That's my queen talkin'." She's a strictly fine queen, fine as wine. Slender, tender, and tall. But she ain't got brain the first.

What does I do? "I does what everybody else do," I gritted. "I gets ready an' go."

"Thass what I mean," George Brown said. "Thass 'cause you's a fool. I know guys makin' twice as much as you is, workin' half as hard. And does they have to fight? They is deferred 'cause what they doin' means more to Uncle Sam than them in there fightin'."

"Well, tell High C 'bout it." That's my queen again. "I sho don't want him to go to no war. An' he may's well be makin' all that money. Lil enough he's makin' in that pool room."

That's a queen for you; just last week she was talkin' 'bout how rich us wTas gettin'.

"Money! Make so much money he can't spend it," he said to her. They done left me outen it altogether; I'se just the man what gonna make the money. "W'y in less than no time at all this cat can come back and drape yo' fine shape in silver foxes an' buy you a Packard Clipper to drive up and down the avenue. All he gotta do is go up to Bakersfield and pick a lil cotton—"

I jumped up. "What's your story, morning glory? Me pickin' cotton. I ain't never seen no cotton, don't know what cotton is—"

"All he got to do," he went on talkin' to my queen, "to knock down his double sawbuck is pick a coupla thousand pounds. After that the day is his own."

"Why come he got to stop in the middle of the day," my queen had to ast. "Who do he think he is, Rockefeller or somebody?"

"Thass what I been tryna tell you," George said. "He don't. He keep right on an' pick 'nother ton. Make forty flags. An' does you have to worry 'bout him goin' to the army? You can go to bed ev'y night and dream 'bout them silver foxes."

I had to get them people straight an' get 'em straightened fast. "Yo' mouth may drool and yo' gums may snap—" but my queen cut me off.

"Listen to the man," she shouts. "Don't you want me to have no silver foxes?"

"Ain't like what he thinks," he said. "Litta hustlers up there. Cats say they's goin' East—slip up there an' make them layers; show up in a Clipper. Cats here all wonder where they got their scratch." He turned to me. "I bet you bin wonderin'—"

"Not me!" I said. "All I'se wonderin' is how come you pick on me. I ain't the man. 'Fore I pick anybody's cotton I'll—"

So there I was the next mornin' waitin' for the bus to take me up to Bakersfield. Done give this icky twenty-five bucks to get me the job and all I got is a slip of paper with his name on it I'm supposed to give to the man when I get there. My queen done took what scratch I had left sayin' I wouldn't need nothin' 'cause George said everything I could want would be given to me for nothin'. All I had was the four bits she let me keep.

But by then it had me. Done gone money mad as her. At first I was thinkin' in the C's; knock seven or eight hundred then jump down. But by the time I got to Bakersfield I was way up in the G's; I seen myself with pockets full of thousand dollar bills.

After knockin' the natives cold in my forty-inch frock and my cream colored drapes I looked 'round for the cat George said gonna meet me. Here come a big Uncle Tomish lookin' cat in starched overalls astin' me is I High C.

"What you wanna know for, is you the police?" I came back at him.

"Dey calls me Poke Chops," he said. "I'se de cook at de plantation. I come tuh pick y'all up."

"Well bless my soul if you ain't Mr Cotton Boll," I chirped, givin' him the paper George gimme. Then I ast him, "Is that you parked across the street?"

He looked at the green Lincoln Zephyr then he looked back at me. "Dass me on dis side," he mumbled, pointin' at a battered Model A truck.

Well now that made me mad, them sendin' that loppy for me. But I was so high ofF'n them dreams I let it pass. I could take my twenty G's and buy me a tank to ride in if'n I wanted; warn't like I just had to ride in that loppy. So I climb in beside old Chops an' he drive off.

After we'd gone aways he come astin' me, " 'Bout how much ken y'all pick, shawty?"

"Don't worry 'bout me, Chops," I told him. "I'll knock out my coupla thousand all ricky. Then if'n I ain't too tired I'll knock out a deuce more."

"Coupla thousan'." He turned in his seat an'looked at me. "Dass uh tun."

"Well now take yo' diploma," I said.

"Wun't tek us long tuh whup de enemy at dat rate," was all he said.

'Bout an hour later we pulled in at a shanty. I got out and went inside. On both sides there was rows of bunks an' in the middle a big long wooden table with benches. Looked like a prison camp where I did six months. I was mad now sure 'nough. "I ain't gonna stay in this dump," I snarled.

"Whatcha gunna do den?" he wanted to know. "Build yo'self a house?"

I'do cut out right then an' there but the bucks had me. I'm a hipcat from way back an' I don't get so mad I don't know how I'm gettin' down. If n them other hustlers could put up with it, so could I. So when old Chops gimme a bunk down in the corner I didn't want him to know I was mad. I flipped my last half buck at him. "Take good care of me, Chops," I said.

He didn't bat an eye; he caught the half an' stashed it. "Yassuh," he said.

At sundown the pickers came in, threw their sacks on this bunks an' made for the table. If there was any hustlers there, they musta been some mighty hard hustlers 'cause them was some rugged cats. Them cats talked loud as Count Basie's brass an' walked hard as Old Man Mose. By the time I got to the table wasn't nothin' left but one lone pork chop.

Then when us got through eatin' here come Chops from the kitchen. "Folkses, I wants y'all tuh meet High C. High C is a pool shark. He pick uh tun uh cotton ev'y day. Den if n he ain't tahd he pick unuther'n."

I got up and give 'em the old prize fighter shake.

But them cats just froze. I never seen nothin' like it; ain't nobody moved. Then they turned and looked at me. After that they got up from the table an' went 'bout their business. Ain't nobody said nothin', not one word.

That night Biyo Dad an' Uncle Toliver come down to my bunk.

"What'd y'all evah pick cotton befo', son?" Biyo Dad ast me.

"Don't start me to lyin' you'll have me cryin'," I said. "I done picked all over. 'Bama to Maine."

Uncle Toliver puffed at his pipe. "Dat Maine cotton is uh killah as de younguns say."

"You ain't just sayin' it," I said.

Somebody shook me in the middle of the night an' I thought the joint was on fire an' jumped up and run outside. By the time I find they was gettin' up for breakfast all the breakfast gone but a spoon of grits. An' the next thing I know there we are out in the cotton patch, darker'n me.

But warn't nobody sayin' nothin' that early in the day. Big cat on the right of me called Thousand Pound Red. 'Nother'n on the left called Long Row Willie. Cats shaped up like Jack Johnson. I hitched up the strap over my shoulder like I seen them do an' threw the long sack out behind me.

"Well, we're off said the rabbit to the snails," I chirped jolly-like, rollin' up the bottoms of my drapes.

An' I warn't lyin' neither. When I looked up them cats was gone. Let me tell you, them cats was grabbin' that cotton so fast you couldn't see the motion of their arms. I looked 'round an' seen all the other cats in the patch watchin' me.

"W'y these cats call themselves racin'," I said to myself. "W'y I'll pick these cats blind deaf an' cripple."

I hauled off and started workin' my arms an' grabbed at the first cotton I saw. Somp'n jumped out an' bit me on the finger an' I jumped six feet. Thought sure I was snake bit. When I found out it was just the sharp point of the cotton boll I felt like a plugged slug. Next time I snuck up on it, got aholt and heaved. Didn't stop fallin' 'til I was flat on my back. Then I got mad. I 'gan grabbin' that cotton with both hands.

In 'bout an hour looked like I'd been in the rain. Hands ain't never been so bruised, look like every bolls musta bit 'em. When I tried to straighten up, got more cramps than Uncle Saul. Looked at my bag. The mouth was full but when I shook it the cotton disappeared. Then I thought 'bout the money; forty bucks a day, maybe fifty since I'd done begun in the middle of the night. Money'll make a man eat kine pepper. I started off again.

By the time I got halfway through my row I couldn't hear nobody. I raised my neck and skinned my glims. Warn't nobody in the whole patch but a man at the end of my row. Thought the rest of them cats musta gone for water so I 'cided to hurry up an' finish my row while they was gone an' be ahead of 'em.

I'd gone ten yards through the weeds pickin' thistledown from dried weeds 'fore it come to me I was at the end of my row.

"Whew!" I blew an' wiped the sweat out my eyes. An' then I seen the walkin' boss. "Howma doin', poppa," I crowed. "Didn't quit when them other cats did; thought I'd knock out my row 'fore I went for a drink."

"You did?" He sounded kinda funny, but I didn't think nothing of it.

"That's my story, Mister Glory; never get my Clipper stoppin' every few minutes for a drink." I shifted my weight an' got groovy. "I ain't like a lotta cats what swear they won't hit a lick at a snake then slip up here an' cop this slave sayin' the goin' east an' come back all lush. I don't care who knows I'm slavin' long as I get my proper layers. Now take when this icky, George Brown, sprung this jive; I got a piece a slave in a pool room and figure I'm settin' solid—"

"This ain't no pool room and the others ain't gone for no water," the man cut in. "They finished out their rows and went over the hump."

"Well, run into me!" I said. "Finished!" But I couldn't see how them cats got finished that quick. "Maybe they didn't have as much to pick as me," I pointed out.

The man stood there lookin' at me an' not sayin' a mumblin' word. Made me nervous just astandin' there. I picked up my sack an' sorta sashayed off. "Which way they go, man?"

"Come back here, you!" he yelled.

"All right, I can hear you, man," I muttered.

"Take a look at that row." He pointed at the row I'd just finished.

I looked. It was white as rice. "Well look at that jive!" I said. "What's that stuff, man?"

"It's cotton," he said. "You know what cotton is, don't you? You heard of it somewhere, ain't you?"

I stepped over an' looked down the other rows. They were bare as Mama Hubbard's cubbard. I came back an' looked at my row again. "Say, man, where did all that jive come from?" I wanted to know.

"It grew," he said.

"You mean since I picked it? You kiddin' man?"

He didn't say nothin'.

"Well then how come it grew on my row an' didn't grow nowhere else?" I pressed him.

He leaned toward me an' put his chops in my face, then he bellowed, "Pick it! You hear me, pick it! Don't stand there looking at me, you—you grasshopper! Pick it! And pick every boll!"

I got out that man's way. "Well all root," I said quickly. "You don't have to do no Joe Louis."

That's where I learned 'bout cotton; I found out what it was all 'bout, you hear me. I shook them stalks down like the F.B.I, shakin' down a slacker. I beat them bolls to a solid pulp. As I dragged that heavy sack I thought, Lord, this cotton must weight a ton—a halfa ton anyway. But when I looked at the sack, didn't look like nothin' was in it. Just a lil old knot at the bottom. Lord, cotton sure is heavy, I thought.

Then it come to me all of a sudden I must be bio win' my lid. Here I is gettin' paid by the pound and beefin' 'cause the stuff is heavy. The more it weigh the more I earn. Couldn't get too heavy. I knowed I'd done picked a thousand pounds if'n I'd picked a ounce. At that rate I could pick at least four thousand 'fore sundown. Maybe five! Fifty flags—in the bag! "Club Alabam, here to you I scram," I rhymed just to pass the time. Them cotton bolls turned into gin fizzes.

At the end of the row I straightened up an' looked into the eyes of the man. "Fifty flags a day would be solid kicks, please believe me," I said. "I could knock me that Clipper an' live on Lennox Avenue." I sat down on my thousand pounds of cotton an' relaxed. "There I was last Friday, just dropped a trey of balls to Thirty NoCount, an' it seemed like I could smell salty pork fryin'. Man, it sure smelt good."

"Turn around," the man said.

I screwed 'round, thinkin' he was gonna tell me what a good job I done.

"Look down that row."

I looked. That was some row. Beat as Mussolini. Limp asjoe Limpy. Leaves stripped from stalks. Stalks tromped 'round and 'round. Andjust as many bolls of cotton as when Ifirst got started. I got mad then sure 'nough. "Lookahere, man," I snarled. "You goin' 'long behind me fillin' up them bolls?"

The man rubbed his hand over his face. He pulled a weed an' bit off the root. Then he blew on the button of his sleeve an' polished it on his shirt. He laughed like a crazy man. "Ice cream and fried salt pork shore would taste good riding down Lennox Avenue in a Clipper. Look, shorty, it's noon. Twelve o'clock. F'stay? Ice cream—" He shook himself. "Listen, go weigh in and go eat. Eat all the fried ice cream and salty clipper you can stand. Then come back and pick this row clean if it takes you all week."

"Well all root, man," I said. "Don't get on your elbows."

I dragged my sack to the scales. Them other cats stopped to watch. I waved at them, then threw my sack on the scales. I stood back. "What does she scan, Charlie Chan?"

"Fifty-five!" the weigher called.

"Fifty-five," I said. "Don't gimme no jive." I started toward the shanty walkin' on air. Fifty-five smackeroos an' the day just half gone. Then I heard somebody laugh. I stopped, batted my eyes. I wheeled 'round.

"Fifty-five!" I shouted. "Fifty-five what?"

"Pounds," the weigher said.

I started to assault the man. But first I jumped for the scales. "Lemme see this thing," I snarled.

The weigher got out my way. I weighed the cotton myself. It weighed fifty-five pounds. I swallowed. I went over an' sat down. It was all I could do to keep from cryin'. Central Avenue had never seemed so far away. Right then and there I got suspicious of that icky, George Brown. Then I got mad at my queen. I couldn't wait to get back to L.A. to tell her what a lain she was. I could see my queen on this George Brown. My queen ain't so bright but when she gets mad look out.

When them cats went in for dinner I found the man an' said, "I'm quittin'."

"Quit then," he said.

"I is," I said. "Gimme my pay."

"You ain't got none coming," he said.

I couldn't whip the man, he was big as Turkey Thompson. An' I couldn't cut him 'cause I didn't have no knife. So I found Poke Chops an' said, "I wanna send a tellygraph to my queen in L.A."

"Go 'head an' send it den," he said.

"I want you to go in town an' send it for me," I said.

He said, "Yassuh. Cost yuh two bucks."

"I ain't got no scratch," I pointed out. "That's what I wanna get." "'Tis?" he said. "Dass too bad."

All I could do was go back out and look them bolls in the face. At sundown I staggered in, beat as Mama Rainey. I didn't even argue with the weigher when he weighed my thirty-five pounds. Then I got left for scoff. Old Chops yelled, "Cum 'n git it!" and nine cats run right over me.

After supper I was gonna wash my face but when I seen my conk was ruint an' my hair was standin' on end like burnt grass I just well in the bed. There I lay wringin' and twistin'. Dreamt I was jitterbuggin' with a cotton boll. But that boll was some ickeroo 'cause it was doin' some steps I ain't never seen an' I'm a 'gator from way back.

Next day I found myself with a row twixt two old men. Been demoted. But I figured surely I could beat them old cats. One was amoanin': "Cotton is tall, cotton is shawt, Lawd, Lawd, cotton is tall, cotton is shawt. . . How y'all comin' dare, son? . . . Lawd, Lawd, cotton is tall, cotton is shawt . . . " The other'n awailin': "Ah'm gonna pick heah, pick heah afew days longah, 'n den go home. Lawd, Lawd, 'n den go home . . ."

Singin' them down home songs. I knew I could beat them old cats. But pretty soon they left me. When I come to the end of my row an' seen the man I just turned 'round and started back. Warn't no need 'f arguin'.

All next day I picked twixt them ancient cats. An' they left me at the post. I caught myself singing: "Cotton is tall, cotton is shawt" an' when I seen the man at the end of my row I changed it to: "Cotton is where you find it."

That night I got a letter from my fine queen in L.A. I felt just like hollerin' like a mountain Jack. Here I is wringin' an' twistin' like a solid fool, I told myself, an' I got a fine queen waitin' for me to come back to her everlovin' heart. A good soft slave in the pool room. An' some scratch stashed away. What is I got to worry 'bout.

Then I read the letter.

"Dear High C daddy mine:

"I know you is up there making all that money and ain't hardly thinking none about poor little me I bet but just the same I is your sweet little sugar pie and you better not forget to mail me your check Saturday. But don't think I is jealous cause I aint. I hates a jealous woman worsen anything I know of. You just go head and have your fun and I will go head and have mine.

"I promised him I wouldn' say nothing to you 'bout him but he just stay on my mind. Didn you think he was awful sweet the way he thought bout me wanting some silver foxes. Mr Brown I mean. And it was so nice of him getting you that fine job where you can improve your health and keep out the army at the same time. And then you can make all that money.

"He been awful nice to me since you been gone. I just dont know rightly how to thank him. He been taking care of everything for you so nice. He wont let me worry none at all you being away up there mong all those fine fellows and me being here all by my lonely self. He say you must be gained five pounds already cause you getting plenty fresh air and exercise and is eating and sleeping regular. He say I the one what need taking care of (aint he cute). He been taking me out to keep me from getting so lonesome and when I get after him bout spending all his time with me he say dont I to worry none cause youd want me to have a little fun too (smile). Here he come now so I wont take up no more of your time.

"I know this will be a happy surprise hearing from me this way when I dont even write my own folks in Texas.

"xxxxxxxx them is kisses.

"Your everloving sugar pie,
"Beulah

"P.S. Georgie say for me to send you his love (smile) and to tell you not to make all the money save him some."

There I was splittin' my sides, rollin' on the ground, laffin' myself to death I'se so happy. Havin' my fun. Makin' plenty money, just too much money. With tears in my eyes as big as dill pickles. I couldn't hardly wait to get my pay. Just wait 'til I roll into L.A. an' tell her how much fun I been havin'.

Then come Sat'day night. There we was all gathered in the shanty an' the man callin' names. When he call mine everybody got quiet but I didn't think nothin' of it. I went up an' said, "Well, that's a good deal. Just presh the flesh with the cesh."

But the man give my money to old Chops an' Chops start to figurin'. "Now lemme see, y'all owes me thirteen dollahs. Uh dollah fuh haulin' yuh from de depo. Nine dollahs fuh board countin' suppah. Three dollahs fuh sleepin'." He counted the money. He counted it again. "Is dis all dat boy is earned?" he ast the man.

The man said, "That's all."

"Does y'all mean tuh say dat dis w'ut y'all give George Brown twenty-five dollahs fuh sendin' up heah fuh help?"

The man rubbed his chin. "We got to take the bad ones with the good ones. George has sent us some mighty good boys."

My eyes bucked out like skinned bananas. Sellin' me like a slave! Slicin' me off both ends. Wait 'til my queen hears 'bout this, I thought. Then I yelled at Chops, "Gimme my scratch! I gotta throat to cut!"

Chops put his fists on his hips and looked at me. "W't is y'all reachin' fuh?" he ast. "Now jes tell me, w'ut is y'all reachin' fuh?"

"Lookahere men—" I began.

But he cut me off. "Wharis mah nine dollahs? All y'all is got heah is three dollahs 'n ninety-nine cents."

"Say don't play no games, Jesse James," I snarled. "If'n I ain't got no more dough 'n that—"

But 'fore I could get through he'd done grabbed me by the pants an' heaved me out the door. "An' doan y'all come back t' y'all gits mah nine dollahs t'gethah," he shouted.

I knew right then and there is where I shoulda fit. But a man with all on his mind what I had on mine just don't feel like fightin'. All he fell like doin' is lyin' down an' grievin'. But he gotta have some place to lay an' all I got is the hard, cold ground.

A old cat took pity on me an' give me some writin' paper an' I writ my queen an' he say he take it in to church with him next day an' get the preacher to mail it. That night an' the next I slept on the ground. Some other old cats brung me some grub from the table or I'da starved.

Come Monday I found myself 'mongst the old queens an' chillun. They men work in the mill and they pick a lil now an' then. I know I'da beat them six year olds if'n I hadn't got so stiffened sleepin' on the ground. But I couldn't even stand up straight no more. I had to crawl down the row an' tree the cotton like a cotton dog. I was beat, please believe me. But I warn't worried none. I'd got word to my queen an' looked any minute to get a money tellgraph.

'Stead I got letter come Wednesday. Couldn't hardly wait to open it.

"High C:

"I is as mad as mad can be. I been setting here waiting for your check and all I get is a letter from somebody signing your name and writing in your handwriting to send them some money and talking all bad bout that nice man Mr Brown. You better tell those hustlers up there that I aint nobodys lain.

"Georgie say he cant understand it you must of got paid Saturday. If you think I is the kind of girl you can hold out on you better get your thinking cap on cause aint no man going to hold out on this fine queen.

"Your mad sugar pie,
"Beulah

"P.S. George bought a Clipper yesterday. We been driving up and down the Avenue. I been hoping you hurry up and come on home and buy me one just like isn."

"Lord, what is I done?" I moaned. "If'n I done somep'n I don't know of please forgive me, Lord. I'd forgive you if you was in my shape."

The first thing I did was found that old cat an' got some more writin' paper. I had to gat that queen straight.

"Dear Sugar pie:

"You doesn understand. I aint made dollar the first. Cotton aint what you think. Ifn you got any cotton dresses burn em. I is stranded without funds. Does you understand that. Aint got one white quarter not even a blip. That was me writing in my handwriting. George Brown is a lowdown dog. I is cold and hungry. Aint got no place to stay. When I get back I going to carve out his heart. Ifn you ever loved your everloving papa send me ten bucks (dollars) by tellgraph.

"Lots of love and kisses. I cant hardly wait.

"Your stranded papa
"High C"

Come Friday I ain't got no tellygram. Come Sat'day I ain't got none neither. The man say I earned five dollars an' eighty-three cents an' Chops kept that. Come Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I ain't got word one.

I was desperate, so he'p me. I said to myself, I gotta beat this rap, more way to skin a cat than grabbing to his tail. So I got to thinkin'.

At night after everybody weighed in an' the weigher left, lots of them cats went back to the field and picked some more cotton so they'd have a head start next day. They kept it in their bags overnight. But them cats slept on them bags for pillows.

Well I figured a cat what done picked all day an' then pick half the night just got to sleep sound. So Thursday night I slipped into the shanty after everybody gone to sleep an' stole them cats' cotton. Warn't hard, I just lifted their heads, tuk out their bags an' emptied 'em into mine an' put the empty bags back. Next day at noon I weighed in three hundred pounds.

Ain't got no word that night. But I got somep'n else. When I slipped into the shanty an' lifted one of them cats head he rolled over an' grabbed me. Them other cats jumped up an' I got the worse beatin' I ever got.

Come Sat'day I couldn't walk attall. Old Chops taken pity on me an' let me come back to my bunk. There I lay amoanin' an' agroanin' when the letter come. It was a big fat letter an' I figured it sure must be filled with bills. But when I opened it all dropped out was 'nother letter. I didn't look at it then, I read hers'n first.

"High C:

"I believe now its been you writing me all these funny letters in your handwriting. So thats the kind of fellow you turned out to be. Aint man enough to come out in the open got to make out like you broke. You the kind of a man let a little money go to his head. But that dont worry me none cause I done put you down first.

"Me and George Brown is getting married. He bought me a fur coat yesterday. Aint no silver foxes but it bettern you done and it cost $79.99. So you just hang on to your little money and see ifn you can fine nother queen as fine as me.

"Your used to be sugar pie,
"Beulah

"P.S. Here is your induction papers come to your room while you have been gone. I hope the army likes you bettern I does."

That's how I got back to L.A. The man bought me a ticket when he seen the army wanted me. But I warn't the same cat what left tryna dodge the draft. I'se mad now sure 'nough. Done lost my queen, lost my soft slave, an' the man got me. Now why them dirty rotten Japs and Jerries start all this cuttin' an' shootin' in the first place you just tell me. They know they couldn't win. Just like me takin' a punch at Joe Louis. Either I done gone crazy or else I done got tired of livin'. That's what make me so mad.

Warn't but one thing I want'd to do worse'n fightin' them stinkin' enemies; that was fightin' George Brown.

The Lord musta heard my prayer 'cause the man got him less'n two weeks after he got me. An' they put him in the same camp. That's me you see grinnin'. Yes suh! Sure gonna be a happy war.