Зима тревоги нашей

           Hecouldn’tdrinkitoutofthebottle.Ihadtoopenapackageofpaperpicniccups,butitcooledhimalittle.Hemutteredlikeretreatingthunder.

           TwoNegroladiesfromthecrossingcameinandhehadtoswallowhisCokeandhisrage."Youtalktoher,"hesaidsavagelyandhestrodeoutandcrossedthestreettogohome.Iwonderedifhewasmadbecausehewassuspicious,butIdidn’tthinkso.No,Ithinkhewasmadbecausehefelthe’dlosthishabitofcommand.Youcangetfuriousatsomeonewhodoesn’ttakeyouradvice.

           TheNegroladieswerepleasant.There’sacommunityofcoloredatthecrossing,verynicepeople.Theydon’ttradewithusmuchbecausetheyhavetheirownstore,onlynowandthentheydosomecomparativeshoppingtoseeiftheirracialloyaltyisn’tcostingthemtoomuch.TheydidmorepricingthanbuyingandIunderstandwhy—prettywomen,too,suchlong,straight,slenderlegs.It’sawonderwhatalackofmalnutritioninchildhoodcandoforthehumanbody,orthehumanspirit,forthatmatter.

           JustbeforeclosingtimeItelephonedMary."Pigeon-flake,I’mgoingtobealittlelate."

           "Don’tforgetwe’rehavingdinnerwithMargieattheForemaster."

           "Iremember."

           "Howlateareyougoingtobe?"

           "Tenorfifteenminutes.Iwanttowalkdownandlookatthedredgerintheharbor."

           "Why?"

           "I’mthinkingofbuyingit."

           "Oh!"

           "Wantmetopickupsomefish?"

           "Well,ifyouseesomeniceflounder.That’saboutallthat’srunning."

           "Allright—I’mrunning."