Tulsa Burning (11 page)

I figured Isaac wanted to talk more about the riot and about Lester, but he didn't want to talk in front of his mother. I
wasn't surprised when after I said I had to go, Isaac said, "How about I use your car, Mama, to drive Nobe back to town?"

"You know that automobile is yours to use any time. After all, you did buy it. But are you sure you're up to driving?" She
leaned across the table to look at him carefully.

He waved his hand toward his empty plate. "Don't you suppose it would take a pretty healthy fellow to put away that amount
of beans and cornbread?"

Mrs. Mitchell smiled. Then her face got real serious. "You aren't planning to go back to Tulsa tonight, are you? I want you
to stay away from there for a while."

"No." Isaac let his breath go in a sad sigh. "There's no rush for me to go back. There's no job to go back to, not even any
bank building." He held his hands out in front of him and studied them like words were written there. "I still can't believe
it."

Mrs. Mitchell got up and moved to put her hand on his shoulder. "You're alive. My boy's alive." Her voice broke. "It could
have been the other way."

Isaac patted her hand, and then he stood up. "Well, Mr. Nobe," he said. "I'm ready when you are."

He didn't mention me driving. I wanted to, but I didn't say nothing. Later I thought about that a bunch. It could have been
me that was behind the wheel when we drove into Wekiwa.

We had just barely turned away from the house to the main road when Isaac asked, "See him today, did you?"

I knew he was talking about Lester. "Yeah," I said. "He told me you were awake."

"He stayed outside my window all night." His voice had a strange, sort of faraway sound to it. "I heard him singing when I
was unconscious. I know I did, and he was still out there when I woke up."

He stopped talking, but I didn't say nothing because I knew it wasn't that kind of stop. He had more to say and was just getting
ready because he was fixing to say something big. When he went on, his voice sounded even stranger. "The funny thing is the
song he was singing while I was out. I remember it now. He used to sing it to me all the time when I was little. See, I never
remembered anything about him before, never anything about the time before they split up. I never remembered having a father
at all, but I did. I had a father, and he sang to me."

"I'm glad," I said. "It's a nice thing to remember, having your pa sing you a lullaby." I looked out the window just then
without realizing I'd see our place, but there it was. Sure enough I saw him. Pa was standing by the barn, sort of leaning
against it. He had on that old straw hat that Ma put in the box with him. I didn't see that little blond boy, but something
funny happened. Just before I lost sight of the ghost, he looked up and saw me, and he took off that hat and waved it. I wished
that we'd been closer to the barn on account of I wondered if the ghost was smiling at me. I really, really wondered that.

"I want to see him again," Isaac said. "Do you know where he stays at night?"

I told him that I didn't. "He's at the Café sometimes around suppertime. Sometimes Daisy does the evening cooking herself,
but sometimes Lester comes in for it."

He didn't say anything for about a half a mile. We just rode along in silence, Isaac thinking about his pa and me about mine.
Then Isaac said, "Will you tell him I want to see him and ask him to tell you when and where?" He sort of bit at his lip.
"I can't ask him myself. Doesn't that sound silly, me being a grown man and all? But I just can't."

"No, it don't sound silly," I said, "not to a fellow like me. I reckon I been there, same as you. The difference being that
you still got a chance to get that blessing, the one pas give their sons."

We rode along without talking for a while, then I said, "Isaac, what are you going to do about them white folks? You know,
the ones that went crazy and burned up Black Wall Street."

"Do about them?"

"Well, the law sure wasn't acting like they was going to put them in jail or anything. Leastways, I didn't see no sign of
it the other night. Seems like it was the coloreds got all the blame."

"Yes," Isaac said. "We weren't blameless, not in the beginning. There shouldn't have been a mob of us down there. The law
was not going to let anyone get lynched, but there's no excuse for what Mama told me you saw happen later, all those innocent
people getting their homes and businesses burned. I wonder if anyone even knows how many innocent people died, all because
hate got out of hand."

"So, if the law ain't going to do anything, what are you going to do?"

Isaac shook his head, and he smiled a sort of sad little smile. "Maybe I won't ever go back to Tulsa." He sort of bit at his
lip. "Nothing to go back to really." He shrugged. "But maybe I will. Maybe I can find some kind of work there, and just maybe
there'll be folks who can start to rebuild. If there are any, maybe I'll help out some. Guess I'll wait and see what happens."

I could see he hadn't understood my question, so I tried again. "But what about getting even? If the law ain't going to do
something, shouldn't you? Shouldn't you do something to sort of get those bad guys that picked on them innocent people and
burned their places and all? Shouldn't you do something like that guy Zorro does in the picture shows?"

Isaac smiled. "I think Zorro is Mexican, not colored," he said. "No, Nobe, I won't try to get even. There's just no profit
in it. Getting even just generates more hate, and hate multiplies. It has a way of turning back on those who do the hating
and eating them away."

"But you'd be right," I said. "You'd be right to get even."

Isaac shook his head. "A very wise person once told me that it is better to do right than to be right. If I do right, I'll
try to make peace with white people."

"Who?" I asked. "Who told you that?"

"My mother," he said. "Martha Mitchell. The same woman who always calls you Noble instead of Nobe."

"Well, maybe she knows all about doing right, but she sure don't know much about me. I'm Nobe. There ain't one little part
of me that's Noble. When somebody hurts me or my dog, I get even."

"No." Isaac shook his head. "I'm not interested in getting even, but I'll tell you something, Nobe. I'm beginning to think
maybe that Professor Du Bois might have been partly right. Maybe it is time for colored people to start to stand up for ourselves,
speak out for what's right."

I wanted to ask how Isaac thought he'd go about that, but I never got to ask because of what happened next. We was in town
by then, just rounding the corner on Main Street. Isaac had just finished saying that about changing his mind when suddenly
there was something moving, running right into the street. At first I only saw a red blur, but then in a split second I knew.
Lida Rose! Lida Rose in her new red dress.

"God, no!" Isaac yelled, and he slammed on the brakes.

We couldn't stop in time. I felt a horrible bump. That's when I heard a scream, and I kept hearing it over and over. The car
swerved. Isaac grabbed hard at the wheel, and he brought the car to a stop. My head bounced back and forth, and I sort of
lost track of what was happening. I didn't lose track of that screaming, though. The screaming filled up the whole car, and
even before I had a chance to look out of the window, I knew it was Daisy making that terrible sound.

Chapter 9

WE JUMPED OUT of the car to see people gathering around something in the street. I couldn't see very well, but I saw something
red. "Get the doc," someone shouted.

"Isaac," I yelled, "we hit her!"

He came around from his side of the car. "I know," he said. "She ran right out in front of me, and I hit her. I hit that little
girl." He leaned against the car.

For just a second, I was confused, unable to move, but then I pushed my way through the people. Daisy was on the ground, holding
Lida Rose's head. Daisy had stopped screaming. Her face looked like it had been painted white, and her eyes stared out in
front of her like they had been just painted on too and weren't real at all.

I dropped down beside them, and I took hold of Lida Rose's hand. "Lida Rose," I said. Then I turned to Daisy. "Can she talk?"
I asked, but Daisy didn't say anything.

I heard someone say, "Out of my way," and I knew Doc Sage was coming.

I moved so he could get to Lida Rose. He knelt down, took her arm, lifted her eyelid, and put his hand on her chest. "This
child is dead," he said.

There were sounds of disbelief and sorrow from the crowd. Daisy started to moan and to rock back and forth. I tried to lift
my foot to go to her, but I couldn't. My whole body felt too heavy to move, like it was made of cement.

A woman from the crowd came to pull Daisy up and away from the body. Doc Sage lifted Lida Rose up in his arms. The crowd parted,
and Doc walked with Lida Rose toward the furniture store. The belt of her new red dress trailed after them.

Then I remembered Isaac, and the heaviness left me. I whirled around to see the car. Isaac still stood there beside it, but
he was not alone. Sheriff Leonard stood beside him, and Isaac had on handcuffs.

"Oh, no," I yelled, and I ran to stand beside Isaac. "You can't arrest Isaac," I said. "It was an accident. Just a terrible
accident. Lida Rose run right out in front of us. There wasn't a thing Isaac could do about it."

Sheriff Leonard gave me a disgusted look. "Who pulled your chain?" he asked. "I don't recollect asking you what should I do."

"You can't arrest a man for hitting someone who run right out in front of him." My hands were clenched into fists, ready to
fight.

"Look here." The sheriff pointed to his badge. "Do you see this here? Well, that badge means I am the law in this town. I
decide who gets arrested. It ain't none of your call, but if you'll calm yourself down, I'll tell you I'm taking this boy
in for his own protection." He pointed with his head to ward the crowd of people still in the street. "That crowd's fixing
to turn mean."

I looked at the people. Some were crying, some shaking their heads as they talked to each other. I didn't see anyone who seemed
angry. Then I saw Cinda. There was people between us, but she was pushing her way through. I stood there waiting, and she
never took her eyes off me as she moved.

"My father and I saw the accident, Sheriff," she called out when she got close. "Just ask him. He can tell you it wasn't Isaac's
fault."

"Ain't no shortage of young ones in this town trying to do my job for me," he grumbled, and he gave Isaac a shove. "Move on
to the jail, boy," he said.

Isaac started walking, but he turned his head toward me. "Let my mother know what happened," he said. "Take her car home and
tell her."

"I will," I said. "I'll tell Lester too." I stood there watching until the sheriff and Isaac went inside the jail.

Cinda stood beside me, and she reached out to put her hand on my arm. That's how I learned that I was shaking. I saw Cinda's
hand shaking with my arm. "Nobe," she said real soft. "Oh, Nobe."

I wanted to sit down and cry, but I didn't. "I got to get hold of myself," I said, and I started to walk. "I got to tell his
mama." I swallowed hard. "And I've got to go tell his father."

"Father?" Cinda walked beside me. "I didn't know Isaac had a father."

"He works over at Daisy's." I kept walking. "I got to see him, but don't tell anyone he's Isaac's pa."

"That hateful colored man? He's Isaac's daddy?"

I just nodded. The front door of the Café was standing open. I figured Daisy must have been standing in the door when she
saw Lida Rose run out into the street. No one was in the front. No sound came from the back, but I went on through the swinging
doors. Lester wasn't there, but there was an envelope on the table. It had my name on it, and under the name it said, "Give
this to Isaac."

"It's a letter," I said to Cinda. "Lester left a letter here for Isaac. It must have been before. I guess Lester wasn't here,
so he doesn't know." I stuck the letter in my overalls. "I'll give it to Isaac," I said, "but first I've got to tell his mama."

"I'm going with you," Cinda said. Then she stopped walking and looked down at the ground, kind of shy like. "I mean, if you
want me to."

I just reached out and took her hand. We got in the car. At first we didn't talk much, but at the edge of town I started telling
her about what happened in Tulsa. I talked about the burning, about the thirsty man, about how Lester saved Isaac and played
dead, about the man who begged for his life and died anyway. I told it without no pauses, words just billowing out like the
black smoke out of Tulsa. The last thing I said was, "We went through all that, and Isaac come out okay. Now God only knows
what that devil sheriff is going to do to him right here in Wekiwa."

"Nothing bad's going to happen to him," Cinda said. "You'll think of something."

"Huh?" I said, and I shook my head. "Not me! Maybe his mama. Maybe Mrs. Mitchell can do something."

We was there then, stopping in front of that neat little house with the flowers in window boxes. I had to force my hand to
reach for the door handle. I sure dreaded telling Mrs. Mitchell what had happened. I kept hearing Doc Sage say, "She sets
a lot of store by that boy."

The knock sounded loud in my ears, but I guess it really wasn't. I could hear Mrs. Mitchell's Victrola from the living room,
and I knew I had to knock louder. When I did, she come to the door right off.

"Noble," she said, "and Cinda. How nice." She stepped aside. "Come in, please."

Cinda started to move, but I put out my hand to stop her. "We'll just wait here." I swallowed hard. "We brung your car. I
reckon you'll want to go to town."

"My car?" She leaned out to look. "Where's Isaac?"

"That's the thing. See, there was an accident. We hit little Lida Rose Harrison." My voice broke then, and I looked over at
Cinda. She knew I wanted her to finish.

"She's dead, ma'am," Cinda said real soft. "Everyone knows Isaac couldn't help it, but the sheriff took Isaac to jail. He
claims it's just to make sure nobody hurts him."

Just like before, she didn't scream or cry, just sucked in her breath in that way she has with bad news. "I don't trust Sheriff
Leonard," she said. "Why would he take Isaac to jail to protect him if there hadn't even been any talk about the accident
being his fault?"

I agreed with her. "More likely he plans to stir up some trouble," I said.

"I've got to go to town," she said. "Let me get my purse."

The sheriff jumped up from his chair when we went into the jail. "Mrs. Mitchell, ma'am," he said. "I don't want you fretting
over your boy. I'm just wanting to make sure no hotheads get stirred up over what happened."

Mrs. Mitchell didn't say much, and the sheriff let her in to see Isaac. Cinda and I waited out front. I spent my time looking
at the folks as they walked up and down the sidewalk. I studied their faces, wondering if there really were people there who
would hurt Isaac. I saw Daisy and Sim Harrison come out of Jones Furniture Store, and I knew they had been there to see about
Lida Rose, about her box and burial.

I left Cinda and crossed the street. When I was in front of them, I went shy. There didn't seem to be nothing for me to say
to them, but I tried. "I hate what happened," I said. "I hate it a powerful lot."

Then Daisy held out her arms. I went to her, and she held me close for a minute. "She loved you, Nobe," she said. "That little
girl was just plumb crazy about you."

"I ain't never knowed any other little kids," I said. "I sure did like to watch her play." Then I thought of something else.
"Isaac couldn't help what happened," I said.

"I know," Daisy said. "I saw her. She had gone over to look in the window of Hill's. There was a little hat there that she
wanted to wear with her new red dress. We always told her not to cross the street, and she never had before. I was coming
to take her across, but she'd already crossed. I think she was afraid I'd scold her, and she wanted to get back to the other
side before I noticed. That's what she thought just before she died, that I would be mad at her." Daisy started to sob.

Sim put his arm around her. "I got to take her home," he said. "You tell Isaac Mitchell we ain't faulting him none for what
happened."

They started to walk away, but I thought of something else. "Wait," I said. "Do you know where I can find Lester Cotton?"

Daisy shook her head. "He quit this morning. Said it was time for him to be headed on down the road." They moved on, and I
just stood there, looking at their backs and feeling miserable.

Cinda was setting on a bench in front of the sheriff's office. I went over to set beside her. When Mrs. Mitchell came out,
she told us that Sheriff Leonard had stayed real nice. "Too nice," she said. "Claims he will bring Isaac home himself tomorrow
if there's no trouble between now and then. Says he just wants to wait until the little girl is buried."

I bit at my lip. Lida Rose buried. It just didn't seem possible. Surely she was over at the Café playing paper dolls.

"Maybe the sheriff is telling the truth," said Cinda, like she was trying to believe it. "It is his job to protect folks."

Mrs. Mitchell shook her head. "Not colored folks," Mrs. Mitchell said. "He doesn't like us." She looked at me then. "Noble,
do you know where I can find Lester?"

"He quit his job today, told Daisy it was time for him to travel on. He left a letter for Isaac." I took the envelope out
of my pocket and held it out to her, but she didn't want it.

"You keep it," she said. "You can give it to Isaac later." She looked down and sighed. "I don't want to touch it. I should
have known that man would be gone. It was a miracle that he was here to help once. Twice would be way too much."

Mrs. Mitchell went on home then. Me and Cinda stayed on the bench for a while. I just wanted to be as close to Isaac as I
could. We didn't say much, but it felt good to have Cinda there beside me.

After a while her pa drove up in his truck, and she had to go. Before she did, she squeezed my hand real hard. Finally there
wasn't nothing else to do but go back to the sheriff's house. I wanted to be there when he come home, so I could watch him.
Walking across the grass to the back door, I took to thinking about Mrs. Leonard. I knew she was plumb crazy about Lida Rose.
I wondered if the woman could live through hearing about her death. Mrs. Leonard was sickly and so tiny. I wished she didn't
have to know, but I knew she did.

Ma met me in the kitchen. Her face was red from crying. "Son," she said, and she put her arms around me. She hadn't done that
in a long time.

I stepped back away from her. "Does Mrs. Leonard know?" I looked up the stairs.

Ma nodded her head. "Broke her heart."

"You reckon she'll live?"

Ma reached out to touch my face. "I thought you'd know. She died instantly, soon as the car hit her. Doc said she didn't feel
no pain."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean Lida Rose. I meant Mrs. Leonard. You reckon this will kill her?"

Ma sort of smiled then, and she pulled herself up straight. "Mavis's heart is broken, but son, that woman's no weak little
thing. She's strong, strong as any person I've ever knowed."

When I helped carry up the supper things, Mrs. Leonard took my hand. "Oh, Nobe," she said, "you saw it. I'm so sorry you had
to be there." She closed her eyes for a second. "So much sorrow in this old world." Her voice sounded like she could feel
all the sorrow there was to feel, but when she went on, the sadness wasn't there. "There are good things too. That's what
we have to remember. We were lucky to have that precious little girl for the time we did." Then she reached up to touch my
face. "We are lucky to have you too, real lucky."

Mrs. Leonard couldn't see her husband's face like I could. He didn't look like he felt one little bit lucky to have me. He
looked like he'd like to think of some way to put me in jail with Isaac, and he looked nervous, stayed near the window while
he ate and kept peering out.

"What's wrong, Dudley?" his wife asked.

"Reckon I'm just worried about that colored boy. Sure don't want no race trouble in this town," he said.

Of course I didn't point it out, but I thought it was kind of odd that if he was worried about Isaac, he was looking out the
wrong window. He couldn't see the jail from the south window. Right after supper, what he was waiting for happened. Two strange
men came to the door. I was on the way out, so I almost ran right into them.