No Crystal Stair (16 page)

Automatically Rob knelt by the bed, held down the kicking legs and took the hand of a boy, about ten, who lay on his stomach and screamed. He watched the man carefully remove the sticky bandages on the boy's back. His stomach turned over at the long line of infested wounds, thick with pus and blood. He wanted to weep. He squeezed the boy's hand and spoke the soothing words “It'll soon be over. It's all right now. You're safe. You'll be all right.” How many times had he said it?

“Will
he be all right?” he asked the man. And when the man nodded, “Are you sure? His wounds look so ... so ...”

“I'm sure. Thank God you people got here in time,” he said as he swabbed the wounds. The boy had grown quieter, and the man spoke to him in German. Calling him Fritz. “The sedation is taking effect. He'll sleep now,” he said to Rob.

A nurse hurried over and handed him a jar. “Here's the salve you wanted, Dr. Goldstein.” He thanked her and she moved on.

Rob looked at the sunken cheeks, the thin arm, the tattoo.

“You're a doctor?”

The man's smile was ironic, showing the gaps between stained teeth. “Dr. Herman Goldstein, formerly of Weisbaden,” he said. He shook this head as he expertly applied salve and clean bandages. “Bad thing, barbed wire.”

“That's what made these wounds?”

The man nodded, explaining that the boy had been late for roll call and the guard had thrown him, scraped him against the fence.

Rob closed his eyes, gripped by another rush of fury, of sickness.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “It'll be all right. It's over now.” The same words he himself had used to console. But was it over? Would it ever be over? How had it happened?

Again he was unaware that he'd asked aloud, but he heard the doctor answer, “A little bit at a time, son. A little bit at a time.”

He glanced up. The doctor stared over his head and spoke in a musing voice, “You're living quietly with your family, taking care of your patients, operating at the hospital. You don't have time for politics, rumblings, rumors. One day they say don't operate in this hospital. Do not bring your patients here. So you move to another hospital. Then you are banned from that. Then you send serious cases to other doctors, do simple surgery in your office. One day they take your children out of school ...” The man's voice broke and he shuddered. “The synagogue is burned,
your windows are broken. Everyday you say to yourself, ‘tomorrow it will be better'. Then it is too late. Your family is gone, you don't know where, and you are in a boxcar being transported to ... to this.” He made a feeble gesture with his hand. “And you ask yourself, how did it happen?”

He looked straight at Rob. “You are an American Negro?”

“Yes.”

Trembling fingers gripped Rob's arm. “Be careful, my son. Don't let it happen to you.”

July 1945

 

T
he war was over. Rob was home.

But the Rob Ann Elizabeth had seen off to war was not the Rob she welcomed home. He laughed and teased, rolled on the floor with little Bobby, who was almost two, and played bridge with her parents. But it was as if he wasn't quite there, as if part of him was far away.

Only at night was he really close—as if he wanted to lose himself in their lovemaking, in her. Yet he seemed somewhat out of place in her bedroom under that frilly canopy above the bed. She should have removed that stupid thing. Or maybe they should have taken Randy's room. But it had already been relegated to Bobby.

Randy.

They all missed Randy. When they received the official news of his death—long before Rob's return—it was Julia Belle who'd broken down. She'd held in her hand the tiny bronzed shoe that had been his.

“Do you remember?” she asked. “That Sunday we walked from the drugstore to Aunt Sophie's? He kept saying his foot hurt and I kept scolding him and made him walk on. I said he was just being his usual stubborn self. But when we got to Sophie's, Herb took his shoe off ...” Here her voice broke and her eyes filled. “A tack was sticking up right in the heel of his shoe.”

“Mother, you didn't know.”

“I should have known, should have looked. I made him walk
all that way.” She held the bronze shoe against her cheek. “Oh, Randy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” she choked through the tears.

Surprisingly, Sadie was the one who'd been able to quiet her, holding her close. “Hush, now. Can't you hear Randy—‘Ah, Mom, cut it out. It wasn't the tack that got me!'” And I'll tell you something else. Randy's not crying. He's laughing, wherever he is.” Sadie tried to laugh herself, but Ann Elizabeth saw the tears. ”Have you ever seen him when he wasn't having fun . .. taking things in stride, laughing at life?”

“That's true.” Julia Belle looked thoughtful. “Randy always took a special joy in whatever he was doing ... Wherever he was.”

“You had a special son, Mrs. Carter, and you must have had a hand in making him what he was. Thank you, I ... Oh, dear God, he made me so happy. I ... we owe it to him to stay happy, don't we?” Sadie, tears streaming down her face, silently rocked Julia Belle back and forth.

In the following weeks, Sadie always seemed to be there when Julia Belle needed her. To comfort or cajole. “Let's have a game of bridge. Dr. Carter's had a hard day.” Or, “Mama's house plants are all dying. I wish you'd take a look.” And Julia Belle would go with her to the house near the hospital, where Sadie had brought her mother after her father's death. Anything to keep Julia Belle busy. And gradually she'd seemed to accept Randy's loss. She centered her attention on Bobby and regained some of her cheerful composure.

Dr. Carter, however did not bounce back. He was as diligent as ever with his patients, as solicitous and loving to his family. But the pride, the anticipation, was gone. “Randy,” he often said, “would have been such a good doctor.”

Something else bothered her father. Those bombs. “They never should have dropped them. They didn't on Germany. Why on Japan?” his mouth twisted. “A matter of color?”

Ann Elizabeth was surprised. This kind of bitterness was unlike her father.

Anyway, she was glad they hadn't dropped it on Germany. Rob had been there.

Still, she worried about her father, sometimes as remote and withdrawn now as Rob. Ann Elizabeth's heartbreak was just as great. She'd been very close to Randy. She, too, was depressed and anxious about her husband.

The years of acting came in handy. Now it was Ann Elizabeth who hummed or whistled a little tune as she went about the house, folding clothes or arranging flowers. It was Ann Elizabeth who cajoled the family into a game, invited friends over, took Rob to the tennis court. It was her bright smile that kept them all going.

She didn't press Rob. She simply waited.

Late one night he told her. They lay in her old bed, and Rob wasn't looking at her. Just staring up at the white canopy.

“Ann Elizabeth, I'm scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Of everything. Where to go. What to do. Of life, I guess.”

“Well, don't let life know it!” she said, and chuckled.

“I'm serious, I—”

“I know,” she said, quickly apologetic. “It's just ... well, you made me think about a play I was in. Ed Sanford was Life and I was this young girl, weak and scared of life and—”

“Ann Elizabeth!” He sat up. “We need to talk. And not about plays.”

“Of course.” She sat up to face him, but couldn't get the play out of her mind. Lying helpless on the stage, with Ed Sanford wielding a whip over her. But Mabel, the strong women, had sternly demanded, “Life bring me a rose!” Ed, head bent had scurried away to do her bidding. “Don't ever say you're scared, Rob. You have to demand what you want in life and—”

“You don't know a damn thing about life! You sure as hell aren't going to learn about it in plays.”

“Well, you needn't talk to me like that!”

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.” He pulled her to him, instantly contrite. “I'm not hitting at you. It's ... well, honey. Life isn't always fair. You can get caught where you don't want to be.”

She looked up, seeing in his face things he'd only hinted at—a whole painful lifetime lived in the months he'd been away. She didn't like him being sad. If only she could make him laugh, as Randy had. Or say something to bring him back her happy, confident husband. But ... “You're right, Rob. I'm silly and naive.”

“Untouched is how I'd put it,” he said, and kissed her. “And I want you to stay that way. I want to take care of you and Bobby.”

“You will. I've never doubted that. Even if you have to dig ditches.”

“I don't want to dig ditches.”

“Oh, you know I didn't really mean that literally! What
do
you want to do?”

“I'm not sure. I just know I don't want to stay in the Air Corps.”

“Then don't.”

“I have to do something.” Rob leaned against the headboard. “And that's what's bother me. I didn't even finish college you know. So anxious to fly one of those planes.”

“That's easy. You can finish on the GI bill.” She thought of Randy's words.
Saving you a bundle, Dad. The army will pay for med school after they teach me to fly.

Rob's eyes brightened. “I thought about that. I could go into aeronautics.”

“Aeronautics?”

“I'd like to design airplanes.”

She tried not to let her surprise show. But ... she'd seen him touch Randy's old models, still in his room, high on the
shelves, out of Bobby's reach. “Did you make airplane models like Randy did when you were a kid?”

Rob laughed. “Heck no. We didn't have the money for that kind of stuff. Guess I got the itch fooling with those gliders at school. And even overseas, Randy was always riding me. Said I was going to get killed because I was always busy studying the design of the plane, instead of shooting at it. And then, he's the one ...” He stopped, swallowed. “It seems so unfair. He—”

She placed a finger on his lips. “Don't. Don't feel guilty because it was Randy and not you. These decisions are made by God.”

“Oh, Ann Elizabeth, Randy was so ... so ...”

“I know. I know what Randy was. You said it so beautifully in you letter. And Sadie's forever repeating it to Mother. He will always be what he was—joking and laughing, taking life as it comes. And you know something, Rob? He always did what he wanted to do. And you must do what
you
want to do.”

Pete says I should stay in, that I could make major. And jobs are scarce now. It'll take three years if I go into aeronautics.” He grimaced. ”Then when I finish I might not get a job. Pete says—”

The bed bounced as Ann Elizabeth got to her knees and faced her husband. “Rob,” she began, “It's like in that play. You have to decide what you want from life and ask for exactly that. You have to ignore the doomsayers who'll tell you it can't be done.”

He laughed. “Well, sometimes those doomsayers are right. You know what a heck of a time I had getting into the damn Air Corps, and that was like volunteering to die! Can you imagine the flack I'll get when I apply to those aircraft companies wanting to design—”

“Wait,” said Ann Elizabeth. “I haven't finished. You have to
act
as if there's nothing stopping you. You can't expect failure. And if anyone predicts it, you smile and continue on your own way.”

Rob shook his head. “You make it sound so easy, honey. All I have to do is take charge of life and grin as I go about it!”

“Right.”

“It won't be easy. I'd have to move back to L.A. to get into school,”

She thought of her parents. They would miss Bobby. “I wish we could stay here.”

“You know damn well they wouldn't let me into Georgia Tech.”

“No, I guess not.”

“And, honey, I'd have to get some kind of part-time job. We'd probably have to live with Mom. Her place in Watts is rather small. Would you mind?”

She traced the outline of his face, cupped his chin with her hand. “Whither thou goest ...”

He kissed her finger. “I love you.”

She smiled. “Let's go down and make hot chocolate.

 

 

Leaving her family that September was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. Going so far across country, taking Bobby away from them ... Bobby was their heart, in some way making up for the loss of Randy, she wished ...

But Rob was her husband. She knew he was doubtful and apprehensive about their future.

She was apprehensive, too. She knew many doctors, teachers, some lawyers, a couple of successful businessmen. But aeronautics, even engineering, was an uncharted field for Negroes.

However, she didn't say one word when her father suggested that he finance a gas station for Rob. “Along with mechanics you know, that could be quite lucrative.” She didn't even look disappointed when Rob thanked him but refused the offer.

Whatever Rob wanted. Whatever would make him happy and confident again.

She smiled through all the preparations, the leave-taking.

“We'll be back to visit often. And you must come to us. I'm sure you'll love California,” she told her parents, and kept up a stream of cheerful chatter.

Only with Sadie did she share her tears and her fears.

 

 

Ann Elizabeth loved her mother-in-law, she really did. It was just that she didn't always understand her. Thelma Metcalf was an enigma. A puzzling combination of practical hardworking mature woman and fussy complaining child. She was especially proud of her duplex in Watts, which she'd purchased with the legal and financial assistance of her longtime employer, Mr. Tyler.

“That old house me and my husband bought was about to fall down on me, and when I told Mr. Tyler about this place, he said it was a good buy. The rental from the downstairs flat would take care of the payments, he said, and then, when I got too old to work, it'd all be paid for and I'd have a good income. But do you know I went down to that Housing Administration office three times and they kept turning me down and turning me down? Mr. Tyler, he say, ‘Thelma, they just giving you the runaround,' and he went over there. And, honey, before the Lord got the news, they had them papers ready for me to sign. Been here about two years now. You like it?”

“Oh yes. Very much.” Ann Elizabeth's bright smile covered her dismay. Their bedroom was too small. The crib, bureau and bed took up all the space. “Such a beautiful spread!” She exclaimed, knowing that the spread, the crisp new curtains and the crib were Thelma's way of saying welcome.

Thelma beamed her satisfaction. “I'm so glad you like it. I didn't know about the colors, but I thought ... well, if she don't like it, she can always change it. Now, honey, you just get comfortable. I'll help you unpack later. I want to take my grandson
downstairs and show him to Lizzie and Hank—the Stevenses. They good tenants. Been here ever since I got the place. He's a fine boy. Just look at those curls. Come on here honey child, come to Grandma.” Ann Elizabeth was proud that Bobby went willingly. “Now I'll be right back. You just make yourself at home.”

As Thelma's footsteps retreated, Rob looked anxiously at Ann Elizabeth. “All right?”

She smiled. “All right.” And never, in the three years they lived there did she show by word or action that it was not all right.

Rob enrolled at the University of Southern California and got a part-time job at the post office. With the GI bill for school, they managed fairly well. Actually the three of them managed
very
well under Thelma's direction.

“Truman ought to hire her,” Rob declared, “to run the budget. She could show them how to make a dollar out of fifteen cents.”

Ann Elizabeth learned a great deal from Thelma. How to comb the newspaper for bargains and where to shop. She always felt guilty if she ran out of milk and had to buy it from the corner store.

“Don't never buy nothin'from that old skinflint,”Thelma told her. “Everything down here is overpriced.” She bought all their groceries in Mr. Tyler's neighborhood. “They's cheaper and fresher where white folks live.” She would lug groceries home every Friday evening and sit with Ann Elizabeth to carefully plan the week's menu.

Thelma's economizing did not extend to little Bobby. He must have the best and most expensive outfits, ready to be shown off at every occasion. And woe be unto those who didn't praise him. “She's one peculiar woman. Jealous! Just plain jealous! Did you notice she didn't say one word about my grandson? And him so cute with those curls and them big eyes, and looking so smart in that yellow outfit. She just jealous!”