A Strange and Bitter Fruit by Barry Davis

Author:Barry Davis [Davis, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-02-27T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

Their train had a separate car for colored people, sparing the reverend and Tee from travelling in a box car. Well fortified for the several days trip to Philadelphia, the train was equipped with a dining car and sleeping car.

Tee and Demby took seats in the colored car where they were alone. Tee spread himself out on one set of seats. The reverend sat on row in front of Tee. They would have to spend the next four nights trying to sleep on the cloth covered metal seats. Coloreds were not allowed in the sleeping berths. Judging by the stern face of the lead conductor as they passed the dining car, Tee suspected that that car was not for them either.

The train had eased its way out of Chicago, running along Lake Michigan as the sun set. Tee, with his back to the window and both feet up on the seats, nodded off. Demby, almost in meditation, looked out onto the clear waters of the lake.

The door of the colored car opened. Demby, trance broken, looked up. It was a black man, young, tall and thin. He was dressed in a porter’s uniform, black pants, starched white shirt buttoned to the top and a circular black hat. He was carrying a grease stained bag. He reached Demby’s row after giving the waking Tee a nervous, sideway glance.

“Reverend Demby, sir.”

“Clarence, good to see you.” Clarence handed Demby the bag.

“Got some sandwiches in there, and a couple pieces of pie.”

Tee, fully awake now, looked at the man, then at Demby.

Demby set the bag down and got to his feet. “Thomas, I’d like you to meet a fellow porter, Clarence Hughes.”

Tee rose and shook the man’s hand. “How’d do, Thomas?”

“Good to meet you.”

“Tee, Clarence will make sure we don’t starve on the way to Philadelphia.”

Tee gave a half smile. “Thank you, Mr. Hughes.”

“You’se welcome. Theys ain’t feeding no coloreds on this train. I’ll bring you what I can, when I can.”

Clarence turned and walked out of the car. Demby looked into the bag and pulled out a sandwich, wrapped in wax paper. He handed it to Tee.

The men ate their sandwiches.

“You a porter, reverend?” asked Tee between swallowing huge chunks of the sandwich.

“Used to be. I still know most of them, though. Clarence there, he grew up in Powelton Village, a poor neighborhood in Philadelphia.”

The man, like a bird or small child, delicately picked at his sandwich, nibbling pieces of the bread crust. “His mammy and pappy came up in the other railroad.” He lowered his voice. “The underground one.”

“Heard of that,” said Tee.

“Philadelphia used to be a big stop.” Tired of the bread, he started picking at the meat, some type of boiled ham. “Anyway, his parents are part of my flock, so I helped Clarence get in with the railroads.”

Tee finished with his sandwich. He crumbled his wax paper and jammed it into the space between the chair and the side of the train.

“You helped him, just like that?”

“It’s my Christian calling.

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