Strivers Row Read Online Free PDF Page B

inimitable way he had.
    â€œIt was when I was working summers as a bellboy up at the Equinox House, in Manchester, Vermont, and Robert—Todd— Lincoln himself was a guest there all season,” he began, sonorously sounding out all three names of the Great Emancipator’s son, almost as if to imply they were a cheap imitation of his own.
    â€œHe was an old man by then, and mean as a snake. Above all, he haaated Negroes! Haaated ’em! He would leave his cottage and come over to have supper in the dining room every night. Have himself driven over in his big old touring car. But whenever one of the colored valets put his hand out to open the car door for him— bang! He would bring his cane down hard , right on the knuckles!”
    He paused to demonstrate this with the gin bottle, banging it down on imaginary knuckles so vividly that all of them winced, and pulled back their hands, smiling and laughing. Adam looked back up at them, grinning wider.
    â€œNow, this was a bit of a predicament, since every valet they had at the Equinox House was a Negro! I don’t know why, exactly.”
    He pretended to look thoughtful.
    â€œThey used to dress us up in little vests and caps. Maybe they thought we looked like colored lawn jockeys, all standing out there. This was the enlightened North after all, where most white folks don’t even mind having a black boy step and fetchit to open a car door for them. But not Robert—Todd—Lincoln!”
    He leaned forward even more now, and they leaned in toward him, drawn as if by a magnet, though save for Amanda they had all heard the story.
    â€œSo then the manager asked me —since I have on occasion been, uh, shall we say, mistaken for white—he asked me if I would open the door of Mr. Lincoln’s car every night. Of course, he didn’t know if it would actually work, you see. It’s hard for a white man, once they know you’re a nigger—”
    â€”Adam went on, and out of the corner of his eye, Jonah saw his wife’s back stiffen at the word—
    â€œâ€”once they know you’re a nigger, to know if you really can pass. It was going to have to be trial and error, the scientific method. And if it failed—”
    He gestured with the gin bottle again, swinging it down hard— “Then bang! another rap on the knuckles!”
    They nearly convulsed with laughter, even Amanda breaking down and chuckling despite herself.
    â€œSo—that night, along comes Mr. Robert—Todd—Lincoln’s big old chauffeured touring car,” he went on. “It pulls up to the Equinox House, and there he was, waiting in the backseat. The only surviving son of Abraham Lincoln, the Great White Father himself ! Former cabinet member, president of railroads. And he’s got the cane ready, he’s all set to bring it down on any black hand that dares to open the door of his car! I step forward—a little nervous, I must tell you, all set to pull my hand back the second I see him start to bring that cane down—and he looks down, directly at me, this big, tall, scary old white man...and he smiles .
    â€œHe smiles! He was satisfied my hand was white—or white enough, anyway. And for the whole rest of the summer, only I could be trusted to open Mr. Lincoln’s door. The manager paid me an extra ten dollars a week and Mr. Lincoln himself gave me a dollar every night, just to open that door. I tell you, I was so glad to have that money I even kept my right hand in my trouser pocket the whole rest of that summer, just so it wouldn’t get too dark.”
    â€œOh, Adam, now that’s too much!”
    â€œNo, no, it’s the gospel truth. To this day my right hand is lighter than my left. Look, I’ll show you!”
    He held out both hands before him, the right one palm up, the left one palm down—and roared with laughter again to see that he had made them look. Even in the fading summer