Suder by Percival Everett Page B

Greg?”
    Martin came into the room and stopped, confused, as he caught sight of Dr. McCoy.
    â€œCome on in, Martin,” Ma said. “This is Dr. McCoy.”
    Martin nodded.
    McCoy smiled.
    Daddy was watching all of this without any expression. Then the doorbell sounded again. Daddy opened the door.
    â€œHey there, Doc,” said Mr. Powell.
    â€œBud.” Daddy stepped aside to let him in.
    â€œNew car, eh?” Mr. Powell said as he passed through the doorway. “Pretty fancy.”
    â€œNot mine. Bud Powell, I’d like you to meet Dr. McCoy.”
    â€œGood afternoon, Mr. Powell,” said McCoy, extending his hand.
    Mr. Powell’s hand closed firmly around McCoy’s rag of flesh. The contrast was striking. “I was just admiring your machine,” said Mr. Powell. I could tell he didn’t know what to make of McCoy. We sat at the table and McCoy closed his eyes and put his hands together.
    â€œHeavenly Father, we thank you for this meal…”
    â€œJust fine,” said Mr. Powell, glancing at McCoy. “It was real hot there. People don’t come out when it’s hot.”
    â€œAnd bless these peas and sweet potatoes…”
    â€œAtlanta’s going to be even hotter,” Daddy said.
    â€œLord, help us through these trying …”
    â€œYeah, well, at least people down this way are used to the heat.”
    â€œAnd Lord God, bless these good colored folks who I’m eating with.”
    Daddy shook his head and smiled and Mr. Powell laughed out loud.
    â€œAmen.” McCoy opened his eyes and looked sternly at Daddy and Mr. Powell. “If you folks believed more strongly in God, maybe you wouldn’t be colored.”
    Daddy sat up very straight and his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward on his forearms. “What are you doing in my house?”
    â€œWhat?” McCoy asked.
    â€œI want to know why a peckerwood like you comes to a Negro house for dinner.”
    Mr. Powell raised his napkin to his mouth to hide his smile.
    â€œBen?” Ma tried to call Daddy off.
    â€œWell, Dr. Suder, I just wanted to see what colored folks was like. So, I could pray for you, like real people.”
    â€œMcCoy, you half-baked, Bible-headed redneck, just get out of my house.” Daddy stood up. “Get up and get out.”
    Mr. Powell stood up, too.
    McCoy looked at Daddy and Mr. Powell and slowly pushed himself up from the table. He looked at Ma, but she didn’t say anything. McCoy walked out of the house.
    I’m sitting in the living room listening to the song and looking out the window when Thelma comes in.
    â€œWhat time does the drugstore close?” she asks.
    â€œWhich drugstore?”
    â€œThe one on Maple.”
    â€œSix o’clock.”
    â€œGreat. You’ve got ten minutes,” she says.
    â€œWhat do you need?”
    â€œKotex.”
    â€œJesus, you know how I hate to buy those things. Especially there. I can’t stand that old lady.”
    She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there looking at me.
    â€œOkay, I’ll go.” I hop into the car and drive over to the drugstore and all the while I’m trying to think of what else I should buy because the old lady seems to notice the Kotex pads less if they got company on the counter.
    I’m in the drugstore and I pick up a couple of boxes of facial tissue with the Kotex and set them on the counter. The old lady comes out of the back room,
    â€œHello, Mr. Suder.”
    â€œMrs. Wilson.”
    â€œIs that it?” She picks up the Kotex. “These ain’t going to help your leg much.” She laughs. “Sometimes I just crack myself up.”
    I drive home and when I walk through the door I see ribbons strung all along the ceiling and a banner that says HAPPY BIRTHDAY .
    â€œSurprise!” shouts Thelma. David Nicks, Lou Tyler, and my brother, Martin, also shout.
    Thelma runs to me and kisses my cheek.