Free Yes I Can: The Story of Sammy Davis, Jr. by Sammy Davis, Jane Boyar, Burt Page A

What
have
I gone and done? Sure was foolish of you to leave your watch on the floor. Too bad, boy. Tough luck.”
    The glass was crushed and the gold was twisted. The windingstem and the hands were broken off and mangled. I put the pieces on the bed and looked at them, foolishly trying to put them together again.
    “Awww, don’t carry on, boy. You can always steal another one.”
    I looked at him. “What’ve you got against me?”
    “Hell, I ain’t got nothin’ against you, boy. I like you fine.”
    I knew I shouldn’t just take it from him like this. I knew I should swing at him or something, but I was so weakened from the hurt of it that I couldn’t get up the anger.
    I wrapped the pieces in some paper and put it in my pocket. Maybe it could still be fixed.
    Overnight the world looked different. It wasn’t one color any more. I could see the protection I’d gotten all my life from my father and Will. Yet, I couldn’t thank them for it. I appreciated their loving hope that I’d never need to know about prejudice and hate, but they were wrong. It was as if I’d walked through a swinging door for eighteen years, a door which they had always secretly held open. But they weren’t there to hold it open now, and when it finally hit me it was worse than if I’d learned about it gradually and knew how to move with it.
    Sergeant Williams walked out of the mess hall with me. “I was looking over the service records and I see that you were in show business. We have shows at the service club every Friday. If you’d care to help out I’m sure it would be appreciated, and perhaps you might enjoy doing it.”
    After the show, I was standing backstage with one of the musicians, a guy from another company, and I suggested we go out front and have a coke.
    He said, “Maybe we better go over to the colored service club. You don’t want trouble, do you?”
    “Trouble? I just entertained them for an hour. They cheered me. Hey, look, God knows I don’t want trouble but there’s gotta be a point where you draw the line. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m thirsty and I’m goin’ in for a coke.”
    A few of the guys who’d seen the show saw us walking in and pulled chairs up to their tables, making room for us. Jennings was at a table with four of his buddies. They looked over at me and smiled or smirked, I couldn’t be sure which. I sat with a group from ourbarracks and it was the happiest hour I’d spent in the army. I luxuriated in it. I had earned their respect; they were offering their friendship and I was grabbing for it.
    After an hour or so I said good night and headed for the door. As I passed Jennings’ table he stood up. “Hey, Davis, c’mon over here and let’s get acquainted.” He was smiling, holding out his hand. It would have been satisfying to brush him off, but if he was trying to be friendly it seemed better to accept it and keep peace. “Well, I was going back to the barracks….”
    “Hell, you got time for one little drink with us.” He pulled out a chair for me. “Man, where’d you learn t’dance like that? I swear I never saw a man’s feet move so fast. By the way, you notice I ain’t callin’ you ‘boy’.”
    “Have a beer, Davis.” One of the guys pushed a bottle toward me. “Here y’are,” Jennings said, “here’s one nobody touched.”
    “If you don’t mind I’d rather have a coke.”
    “Hey, old buddy, you’re in the army. It’s time you got over that kid stuff. You gotta learn to drink like a man. Try it. You’re gonna like it.”
    The others were watching me. One of them grinned. “Yeah, you oughta learn to drink if you’re gonna be a soldier.”
    Jennings said, “Listen, you’re gonna insult me in a minute. Any man who won’t drink with me …”
    “Okay, I’ll try it.”
    “That’s better. Now I’ll tell you how to drink beer. It can’t be sipped like whiskey or a coke. To really get the taste of beer you’ve gotta take a good long