Invisible man - Ralph Ellison [119]
In the bathroom I put in the plug and poured some of the hot water and cooled it from the spigot. I kept the tear-warm water upon my face a long time, then dried and returned to the kitchen.
"Run it full again," she said when I returned. "How you feel?"
"So-so," I said.
She sat with her elbows upon the enameled table top, her cup held in both hands, one work-worn little finger delicately curved. I went to the sink and turned the spigot, feeling the cold rush of water upon my hand, thinking of what I had to do . . .
"That's enough there, boy," Mary said, startling me. "Wake up!"
"I guess I'm not all here," I said. "My mind was wandering."
"Well, call it back and come get you some coffee. Soon's I've had mine, I'll see what kind of breakfast I can whip together. I guess after last night you can eat this morning. You didn't come back for supper."
"I'm sorry," I said. "Coffee will be enough for me."
"Boy, you better start eating again," she warned, pouring me a full cup of coffee.
I took the cup and sipped it, black. It was bitter. She glanced from me to the sugar bowl and back again but remained silent, then swirled her cup, looking into it.
"Guess I'll have to get some better filters," she mused. "These I got lets through the grounds along with the coffee, the good with the bad. I don't know though, even with the best of filters you apt to find a ground or two at the bottom of your cup."
I blew upon the steaming liquid, avoiding Mary's eyes. The knocking was becoming unbearable again. I'd have to get away. I looked at the hot metallic surface of the coffee, noticing on oily, opalescent swirl.
"Look, Mary," I said, plunging in, "I want to talk to you about something."
"Now see here, boy," she said gruffly, "I don't want you worrying me about your rent this morning. I'm not worried 'cause when you get it I know you'll pay me. Meanwhile you forget it. Nobody in this house is going to starve. You having any luck lining up a job?"
"No -- I mean not exactly," I stammered, seizing the opportunity. "But I've got an appointment to see about one this morning . . ."
Her face brightened. "Oh, that's fine. You'll get something yet. I know it."
"But about my debt," I began again.
"Don't worry about it. How about some hotcakes?" she asked, rising and going to look into the cabinet. "They'll stick with you in this cold weather."
"I won't have time," I said. "But I've got something for you . . ."
"What's that?" she said, her voice coming muffled as she peered inside the cabinet.
"Here," I said hurriedly reaching into my pocket for the money.
"What? -- Let's see if I got some syrup . . ."
"But look," I said eagerly, removing a hundred-dollar bill.
"Must be on a higher shelf," she said, her back still turned.
I sighed as she dragged a step ladder from beside the cabinet and mounted it, holding onto the doors and peering upon an upper shelf. I'd never get it said. . .
"But I'm trying to give you something," I said.
"Why don't you quit bothering me, boy? You trying to give me what?" she said looking over her shoulder.
I held up the bill. "This," I said.
She craned her head around. "Boy, what you got there?"
"It's money."
"Money? Good God, boy!" she said, almost losing her balance as she turned completely around. "Where'd you get all that much money? You been playing the numbers?"
"That's it. My number came up," I said thankfully -- thinking, What'll I say if she asks what the number was? I didn't know. I had never played.
"But how come you didn't tell me? I'd have at least put a nickel on it."
"I didn't think it would do anything," I said.
"Well, I declare. And I bet it was your first time too."
"It was."
"See there, I knowed you was a lucky one. Here I been playing for years and the first drop of the bucket you hits for that kinda money. I'm sho glad for you, son. I really am. But I don't want your money. You wait 'til you get a job."
"But I'm not giving you all of it," I said hastily. "This is just on account."
"But that's a hundred-dollar bill. I take that an' try to change it and the white folks'll want to know my whole life's history." She snorted. "They want to know where I was born, where I work, and where I been for the last six months, and when I tell 'em they still gonna think I stole it. Ain't you got nothing smaller?"