Life in the Elevators
A Novel
By D. DeWitt Thomas
Chapter 22
A little ways down the creek bed I could make out the figure of a man
and as I drew closer it seemed to be the image of a large dark skinned
negro. The man look as if he descended from a multi-cultural heritage
of Afro-American and Native American like the legendary buffalo
soldier. "Whatcha doin'?" he shouted, "out there in the middle of the
creek, I mean." I looked up at him on the creek bank. He shouted again,
"Hey bud, whatcha doin out there?" He was waving a big hand for me to
come toward him. When I reached for him, he grabbed hold of my hand and
helped me up the steep embankment. My hand was locked securely in his
grip and I was swiftly lifted to the edge. "What's your name?" he
asked. "I'm Danny Thomas." I answered. "Where am I?", I asked. "You're
in the Guadalupe River." he replied. I avoided telling him the real
reason for my perdicament so as not to arouse his suspicion but I'm
sure he was thinking that I had a problem. "You are about 30 miles
outside of Austin." he continues with a steel cold stare. "If you walk
about 3 miles west, you will find a paved road." he says still with no
hint of a smile proudly raising his head and tilting it a little to one
side indicating that he was still suspicious about how I had found my
way down the Guadalupe River. Reaching the top of the steep river bank,
I ask him his name. "My name is Angel." he said. The sun shone directly
into his face now and I could see clearly that it was badly scarred.
"It happened along time ago when I was a child." he said realizing that
the look of curiosity in my expression prompted an explanation. "The
scar, I mean", he continues, "when I was in grade school the negroes
weren't allowed to drink out of the water fountain. One day after the
playground recess, I sneaked over to the water fountain and took a sip.
I thought that I had gone unnoticed but a group of white boys caught me
and started pushing me to the ground saying, 'This water fountain is
for white people only. Niggers aren't allowed to drink out of it." They
grabbed me and stood me up by the fountain and dared me to take another
drink.
So as I did, one of them shoved my forehead down onto the spigot nozzel
again and again until I was unconscious. I woke up on the ground next
to the fountain with blood all over my shirt and pants. Several adults
walked by on the sidewalk without stopping just shaking their heads
with disgusted expressions on their faces. I am sure they were thinking
that I was the cause of it." he said as he looked down.
There
was no reason to react to the revelation because it was obviously an
outrageous example of how mean spirited a group of people can be when
they are moved by peer pressure to take violent action against their
fellow man, so I just changed the subject.
Is there anywhere around
here where there might be a phone that I could use?" I ask. "There is
the Braun place, a farmhouse just over that next ridge." he answered as
he nodded in the direction of the ranch house over his left shoulder.
"I will show you the way." he says. We began walking together in the
direction of the Braun homestead and as we ascended the next ridge, I
was speechless most of the way because I know, as a white man, I could
never explain the hatered which my race has bestowed upon him and his
brothers. The actions that stem from racism are beyond conversing with
someone like Angel who know it first hand and has experienced more of
it than I could or would ever be able to imagine, yet he still
befriended me and without hesitation gave me help when I was in
desperate need.
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