NOT WITHOUT LAUGHTER by Langston Hughes
(Dover Publications Inc., Mineola, NY: 2008), p.30, 32
“Aw, the church has made a lot of you
old Negroes act like Salvation Army people,” the girl returned,
throwing the dried knives and forks on the table. “Afraid to even
laugh on Sundays, afraid for a boy and a girl to look at one another,
or for people to go to dances. Your old Jesus is white, I guess,
that's why! He's white and stiff and don't like niggers!
“Hager gasped while Harriet went on
excitedly, disregarding her mother's pain: “Look at Tempy, the
highest-class Christian in the family—Episcopal, so holy she can't
even visit her own mother. Seems like all the good-time people are
bad, and all the old Uncle Toms and mean, dried-up, long-faced
niggers fill the churches. I don't never intend to join a church if I
can help it.
“Have mercy on this chile! Help her
an' save her from hellfire! Change her heart, Jesus!” The old woman
begged, standing in the middle of the kitchen with uplifted arms.
“God have mercy on my daughter.”
“Harriet, her brow wrinkled in a
steady frown, put the dishes away, wiped the table, and emptied the
water with a loud splash through the kitchen-door. Then she went into
the bedroom that she shared with her mother, and began to undress.
Sandy saw, beneath her thin white underclothes, the soft black skin
of her shapely young body.
“Where you goin'?” Hager asked
sharply.
“Out,” said the girl.
“Out where?”
“O, to a barbecue at Willow Grove,
mama! The boys are coming by in an auto at seven o;clock.”
“What boys?”
“Maudel's brother and some fellows.”
“You ain't goin' a step!”...
“O, no?” said Harriet coolly in a
tone that cut like knives. You're the one that says I'm not going—but
I am!”
“Then suddenly something happened in
the room—the anger fell like a veil from Hager's face, disclosed
aged, helpless eyes full of fear and pain.
“Harriet, honey, I wants you to be
good,” the old woman stammered. The words came pitiful and low—not
a command any longer—as she faced her terribly alive young daughter
in the ruffled blue dress and red silk stockings. “I just wants you
to grow up decent, chile. I don't want you runnin' to Willer Grove
with them boys. It ain't no place for you in the night-time—an' you
knows it. You's mammy's baby girl. She wants you to be good, honey,
and follow Jesus, that's all...
“You old fool!” she cried. “Lemme
go! You old Christian fool!”
“She ran through the door and across
the sidewalk to the waiting car, where the arms of the young men
welcomed her eagerly...”
