Free The Future Has a Past by J. California Cooper Page A

money!”
    Silence dropped on the crowd like fog and everybody turned to hear his answer.
    Preacher Watchem sputtered and spit as he tried to find words to make everybody look some other place, but Luella stood her ground.
    People mumbled, “Five hundred dollars?”
    Other people, women said, “That chile sure is washing clothes for a livin!”
    So they closed in around him, their beloved preacher, and he said, “I am truly sorry, daughter, the Lord’s work keep me so busy, I forget sometime. I will be there directly tomorrow.”
    Luella didn’t move, said, “No, Preacher Watchem. I need my money today. Can’t wait no more. You said that three, four months ago. I waited for you every evening after I got through my hard work. Today, Preacher Watchem, today!”
    Now, I will tell you something; it was her love of Silki and his needs that gave Luella such attitude and nerve. She might not have done that to the preacher if it was just for herself.
    Preacher Watchem made a few quick a’hems and a’haws and said, “I’ll be there today, then, directly, daughter. You must forgive me for taking so long, but so many people in my flock need so much. I just didn’t—”
    Luella interrupted him. “I’ll wait right here, Preacher Watchem. I won’t go home til you repay me what is mine.”
    Wasn’t too much going on in that town anyway, so for some reason the whole congregation waited with her. Well, it was something new to talk about, “how that Luella talked to the preacher! that way! My, my, indeed.”
    But . . . Preacher Watchem paid Luella that day.
    Five hundred dollars seemed like a million dollars to Luella so she gave Corrine one hundred dollars to keep for her and put one hundred dollars in the bank. Then, Luella put the rest of the money away in her grandmother’s trunk. Her heart was full and ready to tell Silki they could get ready to go.
    Part II
    Silki’s life was at one of its lowest ebbs. He had lost his last $1.50. It was 9:30 P.M. on Friday night. It would be nine and a half hours before he could go to Luella’s. He had lost his job a week ago because he was never there anyway. His last woman had moved her new man in and put his own suitcase, not on the steps, but on the walkway by the gate near the street. He was ready to cry, but, instead, told himself, “I am a man and a man don’t cry.”
    Mattie had been back several times to borrow money from Luella and the woman could beg so good, Luella had relented and loaned her neighbor some money. Five dollars, then ten dollars and once, when Mattie cried so hard about feeding her grandchildren, twenty dollars. So, now, it was a regular item on Mattie’s list to go over there once or twice a month to borrow whatever she could.
    Mattie had, also, been at church when Luella spoke with Preacher Watchem and knew Luella had five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars!! But she had had too many gins and beers the night before and had slept late on this day. She had stuck empty, sour milk bottles into the mouths of her grandchildren, three and four years old, so they would be quiet and let her sleep. “Shet your mouf up so Granny get to sleep one more minute.” Around eleven o’clock the four-year-old got up and went to see what he could find in the dirty kitchen on the greasy stove; the three-year-old followed him, leaving Granny in bed on the gray pillow, her mouth open dribbling saliva from the corner of her mouth.
    The persistent sounds of pots falling, dishes breaking, finally woke Granny Mattie up. She was angry. She reached out a hand, feeling for the babies in the bed and they were not there. “What the hell you basta’ds doin in there?!”
    So, Mattie’s day had begun. She had intended to go over to Luella’s and get “a little money to feed these kids, they hungry!” She was hungry, too, and had left last night’s beans on the stove all night in the warm weather. “Sour! Ugh!” Mattie sat down a minute to get her thoughts together.
    Silki