Lunch At Woolworth’s Five and Dime
Audio Reading by Demetria Reads: https://soundcloud.com/user-707918679/lunch-at-woolworths-five-and-dime-miles-white-1
When Clement poured the glass of buttermilk over his head, Randall remembered what he had been taught. He sat there and did not move. The thick milk dripped down his head and into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He blinked a few times but kept his eyes forward. The milk ran a trail down his shirt and pooled between his legs in a puddle on the stool. His crotch felt wet and soggy but he forced himself not to squirm. The milk dripped down off the stool and onto the floor. Well now, Clement said. Looks like this here boy done pissed on hisself, but he pees white. That got a laugh from the other kids standing around the three kids sitting ramrod straight at the counter, not speaking, even to each other. Clement looked back at Randall, admiring his work. It was his show now. I bet he even think he is white, don’t you, boy?
Randall sat between Tony and Dexter, his two closest friends, brothers he would die for. As he sat there in the middle of the mob, he thought that day might be today. They knew it might be like this. They knew it because they were told it might be like this. Still, they had no way to know which way this was heading or how far it might go. What they knew for sure was that they had to keep it going. They had to sit there and take it as best they could. The same kid had already slathered ketchup over Dexter’s head and put mustard on his shoulders, calling him a hot dog that had been on the grill too long. Tony, the youngest, waited to see what trials he would have to endure, but whatever they were, he was determined he would endure them. He knew they were not the only ones enduring. Other kids like them were enduring in other places. They were all enduring together. Tony decided it was his turn to step up, and he spoke up.
Excuse me sir, he said. May we please have three cups of coffee with milk? I believe the young lady behind you was just about to pour it. The manager repeated the same thing he had already said two times now to the other two. I’m sorry but we cannot serve you in here. Y’all gonna need to please leave now.Clement stepped over to Tony and put his face up close enough that Tony could smell the beer on his breath. Well now, he said. This little nigger can talk. I bet he think he real smart, too. Smarter than all us dumb ol’ rednecks. That got a chuckle, but not enough to satisfy Clement. He wanted to keep it going, too. You want some coffee boy? He made a motion to Craig, looking furtive and nervous behind the counter. Hold on now, Clement. Milk is one thing, but that coffee there is hot. Clement slammed his fist down hard on the table, spittle foaming at his lips.
Now you give me that coffee and you give it to me quick, or by God I’ll come across this counter and get it myself. Now you give it. The hundred or so kids crammed into the tiny lunchroom fell silent. Craig now regretted calling Clement up and telling him three niggers were sitting up in here wanting service and the white customers were walking out and could he bring a couple of guys over and get them to move on out of here. He had not expected all this. He picked up the coffee pot and set it on the counter.
I sure hope you know what you’re doing, he said. Clement took up the pot and went to pour it over Tony’s head, raising it up slowly. I ain’t got no milk for you nigger,he said, but here’s your coffee. Craig hesitated for a second, but then reached across the counter and grabbed Clement’s hand, squeezing it, hard, like he might break it off. Nah, he said, looking Clement evenly in the eyes. I guess I don’t reckon you will.
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