Native Son - Richard Wright [73]
“…got to get hold of that Jan.”
“That seems to be the next thing,” said Mr. Dalton, sighing.
Bigger felt that if he said something directly to Mr. Dalton, he could swing things round again in his favor; but he did not know just how to put it.
“You suppose she ran off?” he heard Britten ask.
“I don’t know,” Mr. Dalton said.
Britten turned to Bigger and looked at him; Bigger kept his eyes down.
“Boy, I just want to know, are you telling the truth?”
“Yessuh. I’m telling the truth. I just started to work here last night. I ain’t done nothing. I did just what they told me to do.”
“You sure he’s all right?” Britten asked Dalton.
“He’s all right.”
“If you don’t want me to work for you, Mr. Dalton,” Bigger said, “I’ll go home. I didn’t want to come here,” he continued, feeling that his words would awaken in Mr. Dalton a sense of why he was here, “but they sent me anyhow.”
“That’s true,” Mr. Dalton told Britten. “He’s referred to me from the relief. He’s been in a reform school and I’m giving him a chance….” Mr. Dalton turned to Bigger. “Just forget it, Bigger We had to make sure. Stay on and do your work. I’m sorry this had to happen. Don’t let it break you down.”
“Yessuh.”
“O.K.,” said Britten. “If you say he’s O.K., then it’s O.K. with me.”
“Go on to your room, Bigger,” said Mr. Dalton.
“Yessuh.”
Head down, he walked to the rear of the furnace and upstairs into his room. He turned the latch on the door and hurried to the closet to listen. The voices came clearly. Britten and Mr. Dalton had come into the kitchen.
“My, but it was hot down there,” said Mr. Dalton.
“Yes.”
“…. I’m a little sorry you bothered him. He’s here to try to get a new slant on things.”
“Well, you see ’em one way and I see ’em another. To me, a nigger’s a nigger.”
“But he’s sort of a problem boy. He’s not really bad.”
“You got to be rough with ’em, Dalton. See how I got that dope out of ’im? He wouldn’t’ve told you that.”
“But I don’t want to make a mistake here. It wasn’t his fault. He was doing what that crazy daughter of mine told him. I don’t want to do anything I’ll regret. After all, these black boys never get a chance….”
“They don’t need a chance, if you ask me. They get in enough trouble without it.”
“Well, as long as they do their work, let’s let ’em be.”
“Just as you say. You want me to stay on the job?”
“Sure. We must see this Jan. I can’t understand Mary’s going away and not saying anything.”
“I can have ’im picked up.”
“No, no! Not that way. Those Reds’ll get hold of it and they’ll raise a stink in the papers.”
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
“I’ll try to get ’im to come here. I’ll phone his office, and if he’s not there I’ll phone his home.”
Bigger heard their footsteps dying away. A door slammed and then all was quiet. He came out of the closet and looked in the dresser drawer where he had put the pamphlets. Yes, Britten had searched his room; his clothes were mussed and tumbled. He would know how to handle Britten next time. Britten was familiar to him; he had met a thousand Brittens in his life. He stood in the center of the room, thinking. When Britten questioned Jan, would Jan deny having been with Mary at all, in order to protect her? If he did, that would be in his favor. If Britten wanted to check on his story about Mary’s not going to school last night, he could. If Jan said that they had not been drinking it could be proved that they had been drinking by folks in the café. If Jan lied about one thing, it would be readily believed that he would lie about others. If Jan said that he had not come to the house, who would believe him after it was seen that he had lied about his not drinking and about Mary’s going to school? If Jan tried to protect Mary, as he thought he would, he would only succeed in making a case against himself.
Bigger went to the window and looked out at the white curtain of falling snow. He thought of the kidnap note. Should he try to get money from them now? Hell, yes! He would show that Britten bastard! He would work fast. But he would wait until after Jan had told his story. He should see Bessie tonight. And he ought to pick out the pencil and paper he would use. And he must not forget to use gloves when he wrote the note so that no fingerprints would be on the paper. He