No Crystal Stair (10 page)

Ann Elizabeth was waiting.

December 1942

 

“
M
e and brother Bill went huntin' . . . Way up in eastern Maine”The rhythmic beat of the band accompanied the wiry brown-skinned man who strutted across the stage belting out the silly catchy words. “As we were a-huntin' . . .”

It was Louis Armstrong at his best. The crowd roared its approval as the fiery little man took up his trumpet to join with the band before he dragged out the finale in a tempo that drove the audience wild.

Ann Elizabeth was as enthusiastic as anyone in the hangar. Never had she had so much fun. This was completely different from the sedate chaperoned socials of her girlhood or even the not-so-sedate frat dances that hired pretty good local bands. Never mind that she was standing in an aircraft hangar, no theater seats or polished dance floor. Planes had been wheeled outside to accommodate the crowd. Officers, enlisted personnel and civilians, anyone connected with the base, packed together to clap, stamp their feet and cheer the performer. Whistles and howls reverberated throughout the cavernous building. “Do it Satchmo!” and “Blow, man, blow!”

Ann Elizabeth leaned closer to Rob and he slipped an arm around her. “Tired, honey?”

“Oh no! Not at all!” Happy. Happier than she had ever been in her entire life. She was Rob's wife, and she loved every minute of it.

Nothing spoiled the joy. Not even the constant presence of their landlady, who occupied the other bedroom and kept a watchful eye on her tenants. Not the clutter of Mrs. Anderson's house—her overstuffed velour furniture that crowded the little living room, the ruffled curtains and ruffled shade on the lamp set in the middle of the crocheted ruffled doily. Shadow boxes loaded with bric-a-brac—tiny artificial flowers, birds, elephants with raised tusks. Clutter. Claustrophobic, so different from the tasteful beauty of the home she'd grown up in.

And of course there was the septic tank. Mamie Anderson, evidently unused to indoor plumbing, lived in constant fear that the septic tank would overflow. “Must you bathe every day honey? Don't flush the toilet every time you use it. Use this pan for washing dishes, honey, and don't throw the water down the sink. Just throw it out the back door.”

“At this rate,” Rob had whispered to Ann Elizabeth, “we're likely to flood the backyard before the septic tank is half-full.”

Rob. His quips, his light jaunty walk, the tunes he whistled under his breath. His love. There was nothing and no one but Rob when she closed the door of their uncluttered bedroom and wrapped her arms around him.

Sadie interrupted her thoughts. “That was really something,” she said as the concert ended and they all filed out. She had been invited by Randy for the weekend. “Do you get all the big-time entertainers here?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ann Elizabeth. “Last week Lena Horne was here.”

“And last month Cab Calloway,” put in Pete, who was moving with their group toward the Officers'Club while most of the departing crowd scattered toward the barracks or their autos for the ride home.

“Lucky you,” said Sadie.

“Ain't it the truth. This was from Fran, Pete's current girlfriend. ”Imagine! A CAF-1 and all this, too! Better than living on Broadway.”

“Sure beats the hell out of a dogfight over Germany!” Randy chuckled as he took hold of Sadie and danced a little jig on the pavement. “Me and brother Bill went huntin' ... Others joined in to imitate the inimitable Satchmo, singing merrily as they trooped through the sultry starlit night.

Ann Elizabeth couldn't sing. The words stuck in her throat, choked by Randy's “dogfight over Germany.” That was where they all wanted to go. Oh yes, they were ready. Six classes had graduated from the Tuskegee base. Expert pilots, trained for combat, anxious for the call to war. Not she. She didn't want any of them, especially Rob and Randy, to go.

She wasn't alone. White commanders, engaged in heavy fighting overseas, had no confidence in an all-Negro squadron. Her father had said it. “They'll take our best and never know what they have.”

The best. They'd come from all over the United States, this group of Negro airmen. Healthy, handsome, intelligent men, most of them college graduates. More than once she'd heard comments on the high caliber of the military personnel at Tuskegee. No drunkenness or brawling, no complaints, from the townspeople. Almost no need for military police. The guardhouse remained empty.

They'll never know what they have.
True. Cancellation after cancellation followed one alert after another. Orders issued and reissued, changed and canceled, while the War Department vacillated, pondering over what to do with all those Negroes. The Negro press kept up its questions and demands, pointing out the speed with which white units were sent overseas, many with only a minimal amount of training

Randy, in his slow ironic drawl, explained. “Well now, you
just don't understand. White folks know better how to die. You see, dying takes a certain finesse. That's something about patriotism you niggers ain't learned yet.”

But that night, as they crowded into the Officers' club, they weren't thinking of patriotism or war or dying. Jubilant, in the aftermath of a great concert, they were just having fun.

Randy drew Sadie away from the others. “Let's sit a minute. It's kinda nice out here.”

Sadie sat beside him on the steps. She'd sit in a swamp with him if he asked. But it's not so muggy, she thought, testing the hair at the nape of he neck, relieved to find it holding. Anyway, if Randy didn't care about her kinky hair, why should she?

“This may be the last time,” he said.

“Last time?” Even in the moonlight she could discern that his face was sober. More sober then she'd ever seen it. ”

Being together like this. I have a feeling they'll be sending us over soon.”

Dear God, forgive me. I've been thinking of my hair while he ... Peaceful, fun-loving, take-it-easy Randy. She couldn't imagine him fighting, killing. Being killed. A chill pierced her spine. She reached for his hand.

He entwined his fingers with hers and abruptly changed the subject.

“You like working at Carter's?”

“Yes.” She'd been working at the colored hospital for a month.

“Different from Grady, huh?”

“Yes.” Very different she thought, comparing its inadequate facilities with those in even the colored wing at Grady.

“I'm glad you're there. It's like ... well, I can see you. Envision where you are while I'm away.”

“Oh, Randy.”Did he know she'd changed jobs because working with his father made her feel closer to
him?

“Will you still be there when I come back?”

“Of course. Where else?”

“What I mean is—”he took her by the shoulders and looked down at her “—will you be waiting?”

She held her breath. “Waiting?”

“For me. Oh, Sadie, do you know how special you are to me? So steady, so lovable. I know it's not fair to ask. But I don't want to lose you again.” He pulled her to him, spoke into her ear. “That night, when I saw you at Ann Elizabeth's big to-do, it was like I'd truly come home. And these last few days, being with you ... it's like walking on air, but holding on to something solid. Do you know what I mean?”

“For you, too? Oh, Randy, Randy.” She buried her face in his shoulder.

“Oh, shucks, I meant to do this right,” he said, as he leaned back to reach into his pocket and took out a small box. “Will you marry me? The minute I get back?”

She managed a dazed nod. The world rocked, the silver crescent moon tilted, the stars twirled, tumbled and shone—but not quite as brightly as the little diamond he was slipping onto her finger. Not a spur-of-the-moment thing. He had planned to ask her, bought the ring. Randy loved her, wanted her to be his wife.

“I must be dreaming,” she whispered, almost to herself. “I've loved you for so long. I never believed someone like you could want me. Could love me.

He laughed. “I'm not such a prize, honey. Coming home will be like starting all over again. Medical school. Interning. It won't be easy ...”

“I don't care. I'll help you.” She was a nurse. She could work wherever he trained.

He kissed her on the nose. “Just warning you. It won't be easy.”

No, it wouldn't be easy. But she was thinking of something else. “Your mother won't like it.”

“Mom? Heck, she didn't like Ann Elizabeth marrying Rob, either. Don't worry about Mom. She'll come around. She has a way of taking things in stride.”

“Yes. Like you.”

“Like me!”

“You needn't look so shocked. I mean the way you both—”she screwed up her face “—seem to feel comfortable whenever you are. That day she came to my house—”

“Wait a minute. My mother came to our house—in Beaver Slide?”

“Yep,” she said, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Walked right in, pushed aside Mom's ironing and sat at the table like she was in some tearoom. And she talked right up to Papa.”

“Talked ... about what?”

“About sending me to nursing school. I couldn't believe it. You know how loud and cantankerous Papa can be. But he was so befuddled he just sat there quiet as a mouse when she looked him straight in the eye.” Sadie straightened and assumed Julia Belle's precise tones. “Mr. Clayton, do you mean to tell me you're willing to condemn your daughter to domestic service and ten dollars a week for the rest of her life? What are you thinking of? When she could have a profession that would open up all kinds of doors.”

Randy roared. “You sound just like her.”

“Pa looked like he was under a spell. And when he started saying how long he'd been supporting me and all, she said she'd—” Sadie broke off, her heart swelling as she recalled. “Your mother paid my tuition at Grady, Randy. Bought my uniforms and everything. I thought you knew.”

It was his turn to be dazed. “I didn't know.”Then he smiled. “I
should
have known. My mother has a way of managing other people's lives.”

“Well, I sure like the way she managed mine. I'm paying her back. Every penny. But what she did ... I could never pay back.
It was like she gave me a brand new life.” No matter why she did it, Sadie decided. Silently she sent a wholehearted thanks to Julia Belle and forgave her in the same breath. “I'll never forget it.”

“Just don't forget me, pretty lady,” he said, tilting her chin to press his lips to hers.

She clung to him, reveling in this moment, the happiest moment of her life. It was a long time before they joined the others.

When they did, they found everyone settled in what were obviously familiar surroundings to them, the comfortable lounge of the Officers' Club. “This is nice,” she said.

“Another advantage, ladies, of being a CAF-1 at good old Tuskegee Army Air Field—or TAAF as we fondly call it,” Fran said. “Course it doesn't come with the territory. You have to cozy up to a guy who has those little bars on his shoulder. Ain't that right, honey?” She tweaked Pete's ear as she sank onto the sofa beside him and kicked off her shoes.

“Right,” Pete said, grinning. “Special place for special people, baby. So you better be nice to me.”

“Tell me,” Sadie whispered to Randy, “what on earth is a CAF-1?”

He laughed. “Isn't Fran a kick? It's just a classification for a government worker, which Fran is. She's a typist in the civilian personnel office, I think. Don't ask me what the initials stand for, but the CAF's go up and up. CAF-1 is the lowest—twelve hundred and sixty dollars a year.”

“You're kidding!” Sadie stared openmouthed.

Randy grinned. “Yep. Niggers are suddenly making more money than they ever thought possible. I guess there's something to be said for having a war.”

“Don't say that!” She placed trembling fingers on his mouth.

He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “It will end, you know. And we'll make up for lost time when I get back.”

She held on to his promise like a precious unbelievable secret, too unbelievable to be shared. But hen she was alone with Ann Elizabeth in the ladies' room, she thrust out her hand. “Look!”

Ann Elizabeth's eyes sparkled. “Randy?”

Sadie nodded, feeling strangely shy.

“Oh, Sadie, I'm so glad!”Ann Elizabeth hugged her. “Randy's a lucky guy. And now I've got a sister. You! I'm so happy.”

“Me, too!” Sadie said, but her yes filled with tears. “I only wish . . .”

Ann Elizabeth hugged her again, knowing what she wished. No war. No waiting. “But the waiting will be easier with everything settled between you.' Now at least they were engaged. She knew how much Randy loved Sadie, but he'd said it would be unfair to marry her when things were so unstable.

Ann Elizabeth was glad Rob hadn't felt that way. Funny that carefree lighthearted Randy did. One day she'd ask him about it. “If you love Sadie ...” she'd begun.

“Love her too much to ask her to start something she might not be able to finish.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if I didn‘t' come back—and that's a possibility, sister dear. It would be harder for her to have a new life with someone else”

The idea was devastating. If Rob didn't come back, could
she
have a life with someone else? She blocked out the thought. Rob was her life.

Back in the lounge they found the others indulging in potato chips and pretzels, beer and soda pop, with Randy center stage as usual. From his antics Ann Elizabeth gathered that he was mocking the base commander, who'd held an officers' meeting the night before. First time on record, Rob said, of a meeting with white officers and black officers assembled together. The commander was irate. Someone had been tampering with the WHITE and COLORED signs posted throughout base.