her.”
“No, but her music’s a different thing. Nobody wants to look at me neither, much, fat as I am, but they like to hear me sing. You are the rose of this church.”
“Thank God for making me a high-breasted woman,” said Laura. “But what you’re probably thinking, though, is—I can tell by looking at you—that
you
are the saint and I am the devil. Well, fool, go ahead on and work and pray and worry yourself down with their problems if you want to. Lend out your money. Kill yourself over that church. Not me.”
“Laura, the needs is so big up here in Harlem, and the ways of helping so little, I figure we have to work hard,” said Essie.
“How come, after all these years I’ve knowed you, just
this
year you find so much energy all of a sudden?”
“From God,” said Essie.
“With
me
propelling,” said Laura.
“You God’s handmaiden—even if you do not always act like a holy maiden do.”
“How does a holy maiden act?” asked Laura.
“They be’s not bold with their sinning,” said Essie.
“It’s easier for me to be a saint than to be a hypocrite. And neither my light nor my headlights will I hide under a bushel. The Lord gimme these breasts and if they look like headlights on a Packard car, it is not my fault. ‘Let your light so shine,’ is my belief.”
“You would have led that little young artist-boy what painted our church windows to sin if you could.”
“I don’t believe that boy was leadable, Essie. He were of the type you call ‘refined.’ But he sure painted a de-lightful Garden of Eden. Even that serpent looks like he can be persuaded! Oh, well, lemme see if this English White Horse tastes as good as that Johnny Walker I had last night. I’m trying all the different brands of Scotch to see which one I’m gonna settle on for life. I can see my picture in a magazine now—when I get to be as famous at soul-saving as was Aimee Semple McPherson—
Sister Laura Reed endorses Vat 69 as ideal for colds and fevers, nothing else
. I will get five thousand dollars for that endorsement.”
“Your mind sure runs to likker and to loot,” said Essie. “But one of these days the Spirit is going to strike you dry, strike greed from your heart, lust from your body, and—”
“Make me as stupid as you are,” Laura cut her off, “without a idea in your head until I put this one there—that’s brought us a good living. Now you want to cramp my style.”
Essie could tell Laura was angry. Suddenly the tone of voice hurt, her eyes cut, and Essie suffered. She sat down in her chair and said no more. When Laura left with her Scotch, Essie went into a pause.
14
ENTER BUDDY
H e just walked down the aisle out of nowhere, confronted Laura, and spoke. “I saw you on the curb before you moved off the street into this church, and you certainly looked good to me.”
“I did not observe you in the services tonight, did I?” asked Laura. She went toward the switch to turn out the altar lights.
“No, I just wandered in after things was over. I saw the people going out. I wondered where you had disappeared to off of Lenox Avenue. Cold weather, naturally you had to go somewhere. I traced you here.”
“The Reed Sisters is flattered.”
“No
sisters
to it. It’s you I’m talking to. Maybe I could ride you somewhere, now that your night’s work is done.”
“You got a car?”
“I can call a taxi.”
“I usually go for a little drink after services,” smiled Laura.
“You’re a woman after my own heart,” grinned the young man. “I’m Buddy—Big-Eyed Buddy.”
“And I’m Miss Laura Reed.”
“I know. How about your partner who’s shaking hands at the door? Does she drink?”
“No, she goes home like she ought to. Essie’s the serious type.”
“Essie looks it,” said Buddy.
Valance lights out over Eden, cluster lights out on the walls, all lights out except at the door.
“Essie, you take the bag. I’m going riding with this young man for an hour. Mrs.
“No, but her music’s a different thing. Nobody wants to look at me neither, much, fat as I am, but they like to hear me sing. You are the rose of this church.”
“Thank God for making me a high-breasted woman,” said Laura. “But what you’re probably thinking, though, is—I can tell by looking at you—that
you
are the saint and I am the devil. Well, fool, go ahead on and work and pray and worry yourself down with their problems if you want to. Lend out your money. Kill yourself over that church. Not me.”
“Laura, the needs is so big up here in Harlem, and the ways of helping so little, I figure we have to work hard,” said Essie.
“How come, after all these years I’ve knowed you, just
this
year you find so much energy all of a sudden?”
“From God,” said Essie.
“With
me
propelling,” said Laura.
“You God’s handmaiden—even if you do not always act like a holy maiden do.”
“How does a holy maiden act?” asked Laura.
“They be’s not bold with their sinning,” said Essie.
“It’s easier for me to be a saint than to be a hypocrite. And neither my light nor my headlights will I hide under a bushel. The Lord gimme these breasts and if they look like headlights on a Packard car, it is not my fault. ‘Let your light so shine,’ is my belief.”
“You would have led that little young artist-boy what painted our church windows to sin if you could.”
“I don’t believe that boy was leadable, Essie. He were of the type you call ‘refined.’ But he sure painted a de-lightful Garden of Eden. Even that serpent looks like he can be persuaded! Oh, well, lemme see if this English White Horse tastes as good as that Johnny Walker I had last night. I’m trying all the different brands of Scotch to see which one I’m gonna settle on for life. I can see my picture in a magazine now—when I get to be as famous at soul-saving as was Aimee Semple McPherson—
Sister Laura Reed endorses Vat 69 as ideal for colds and fevers, nothing else
. I will get five thousand dollars for that endorsement.”
“Your mind sure runs to likker and to loot,” said Essie. “But one of these days the Spirit is going to strike you dry, strike greed from your heart, lust from your body, and—”
“Make me as stupid as you are,” Laura cut her off, “without a idea in your head until I put this one there—that’s brought us a good living. Now you want to cramp my style.”
Essie could tell Laura was angry. Suddenly the tone of voice hurt, her eyes cut, and Essie suffered. She sat down in her chair and said no more. When Laura left with her Scotch, Essie went into a pause.
14
ENTER BUDDY
H e just walked down the aisle out of nowhere, confronted Laura, and spoke. “I saw you on the curb before you moved off the street into this church, and you certainly looked good to me.”
“I did not observe you in the services tonight, did I?” asked Laura. She went toward the switch to turn out the altar lights.
“No, I just wandered in after things was over. I saw the people going out. I wondered where you had disappeared to off of Lenox Avenue. Cold weather, naturally you had to go somewhere. I traced you here.”
“The Reed Sisters is flattered.”
“No
sisters
to it. It’s you I’m talking to. Maybe I could ride you somewhere, now that your night’s work is done.”
“You got a car?”
“I can call a taxi.”
“I usually go for a little drink after services,” smiled Laura.
“You’re a woman after my own heart,” grinned the young man. “I’m Buddy—Big-Eyed Buddy.”
“And I’m Miss Laura Reed.”
“I know. How about your partner who’s shaking hands at the door? Does she drink?”
“No, she goes home like she ought to. Essie’s the serious type.”
“Essie looks it,” said Buddy.
Valance lights out over Eden, cluster lights out on the walls, all lights out except at the door.
“Essie, you take the bag. I’m going riding with this young man for an hour. Mrs.
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