Home To Harlem

XX. FELICE

FELICE XX "2J?HAR'S we gwine?" Jake asked. They had walked down Madison Avenue, turned on One Hundred and Thirtieth Street, passing the solid gray-grim mass of the whites' Presbyterian church, and were under the timidly whispering trees of the decorously silent and distinguished Block Beautiful. . . . The whites had not evacuated that block yet. The black invasion was threatening it from One Hundred and Thirty-first Street, from Fifth Avenue, even from behind in One Hundred and Twenty-ninth Street. But desperate, frightened, blanch-faced, the ancient sepulchral Respectability held on. And giving them moral courage, the Presbyterian church frowned on the corner like a fortress against the invasion. The Block Beautiful was worth a struggle. With its charming green lawns and quaint white-fronted houses, it preserved [300] Felice the most Arcadian atmosphere in all New York. When there was a flat to let in that block, you would have to rubber-neck terribly before you saw in the corner of a window-pane a neat little sign worded, Vacancy. But groups of loud-laughing-and-acting black swains and their sweethearts had started in using the block for their afternoon promenade. That was the limit: the desecrating of that atmosphere by black love in the very shadow of the gray, gaunt Protestant church! The Ancient Respectability was getting ready to flee. • • . The beautiful block was fast asleep. Up in the branches the little elfin green things were barely whispering. The Protestant church was softened to a shadow. The atmosphere was perfect, the moment sweet for something sacred. The burning little brownskin cuddled up against Jake's warm tall person: "Kiss me, daddy," she said. He folded her closely to him and caressed her. . . . [301] Home to Harlem "But whar was you all this tur'bly long time?" demanded Jake. Light-heartedly, she frisky like a kitten, they sauntered along Seventh Avenue, far from the rough environment of Sheba Palace. "Why, daddy, I waited foh you all that day after you went away and all that night! Oh, I had a heart-break on foh you, I was so tur'bly disappointed. I nev' been so crazy yet about no man. Why didn't you come back, honey?" Jake felt foolish, remembering why. He said that shortly after leaving her he had discovered the money and the note. He had met some of his buddies of his company who had plenty of money, and they all went celebrating until that night, and by then he had forgotten the street. "Mah poor daddy!" "Even you' name, sweetness, I didn't know. Ise Jake Brown—Jake for ev'body. What is you', sweetness?" "They calls me Felice." "Felice. . . . But I didn't fohget the cabaret nonatalL And I was back theah hunting [302] Felice foh you that very night and many moh after, but I nevah finds you. Where was you?" "Why, honey, I don't lives in cabarets all mah nights 'cause Ise got to work. Furthermore , I done went away that next week to Palm Beach " "Palm Beach! What foh?" "Work of course. What you think? You done brokes mah heart in one mahvelous night and neveh returns foh moh. And I was jest right down sick and tiahd of Harlem. So I went away to work. I always work. . • • I know what youse thinking, honey, but I ain't in the reg'lar business. 'Cause Ise a funny gal. I kain't go with a fellah ef I don't like him some. And ef he kain make me like him enough I won't take nothing off him and ef he kain make me fall the real way, I guess I'd work like a wop for him." "Youse the baby I been waiting foh all along," said Jake. "I knowed you was the goods." "Where is we gwine, daddy?" "Ise got a swell room, sweetness, up in [303] Home to Harlem 'Fortieth Street whar all them dickty shines live." "But kain you take me there?" "Sure thing, baby. Ain't no nigger renting a room in Harlem whar he kain't have his HT company." "Oh, goody, goody, honey-stick1" Jake took Felice home to his room. She was delighted with it. It was neat and orderly. "Your landlady must be one of them proper persons," she remarked. "How did...