Jackson advocate., 1942-08-01
NATIVE SON
By RICHARD WRIGHT

amt going to turn away from me
now! Not now!"
She said nothing. He took off his
cap and coat and threw them on
the bed.
They're wet, Bigger!"
$50, what?"
Il amt doing this" she said.
Like hell you ain't!"
You can't make mel"
You done helped me steal
enough from the folks you worked
tor to put you in Jail already"
She did not answer. he turned
from her and got a chair and pull
ed it up to the dresser. He unwrap-
ped the package and balled the
paper into a knot and threw it into
a corner of the room. Instructive
ly, Bessie stopped to pick it up.
Bigger laughed and she straighten-
ed suddenly. Yes; Bessie was blind.
He was about to write a kidnap
note and she was worried about the
cleanliness of her room.
Whats the matter?" she asked
Nothing"
He was smiling grimly. He took
out the pencil; it was not sharpen
ed. Gimme a knife"
Amt you got one?"
Hell! nav! Get me a knife!"
What you do with your knife?"
He stared at her, remembering
that she knew that he had had a
fo An, irV,on IF r11
on the metal blade in the glare of
the furnace came before his eyes
and fear rose in him hotly.
you want me to slap you?" She
went behind a curtain He sat look
ing at the paper and pencil.
Bigger, please l don't want
to do it."
Got any iquor?"
yeah .
Get you shot and set ON that
bed and keep quiet"
She stood undecided, then got
the bottle from under a pillow and
drank. She lay on the bed, on her
stomach, her face turned so that
she could see him. He watched her
through the looking glass of the
dresser. He sharpened the pencil
and spread out the piece of paper.
He was about to write when he re-
membered that he did not have
his gloves on.
Gimme my gloves"
HUMP"
Get my gloves out of the inside
of my coat pocket"
She swayed to her feet and got
the gloves and stood back of his
chair, holding them Imply in her
hands.
Give 'em here
Bigger :"
Give me the gloves and get back
on that bed, will you?"
He snatched them from her and
gave her shove and turned back
to the dresser.
Il amt asking you but once more
to shut up!" he said, pushing the
knife out of the way so he could
write.
He put on his gloves and took up
the pencil in a trembling hand and
held 1t poised over the paper. He
should disguise his handwriting. He
changed the pencil from his right
hand to his left hand. He would
not write it; he would print it. He
swallowed with dry throat. Now,
what would be the best kind of
note? He thought, I want you to
put ten thousand Nav: that
would not do. Not "I". 1t would be
better to say "we''. We got YOUR
daughter, he printed slowly in big
round letters. That was better. He
ought to say something to let Mr..
Dalton think that Mary was still
alive. He wrote: She is safe. Now.
tell him not to go to the police.
No! Say something about Mary
first! He bent and wrote: She wants
10 come home . F.. Now, tell him
not to go to the police. Don't 60.
TO the police if you want your
daughter back SAFE Now; that amt
good. His scalp tingled with ex-
cltement; 1t seemed that he could
1eel each strand of hair upon his
mead. He read the line over and
crossed out safe" and wrote
alive For a moment he was froz-
en-, still. There was in his stomach
slow, cold, vast rising move
ment, as though he held within the
embrace OF his bowels the swing of
planets through space. He was gid
dy He caught hold of himself,
focused his attention to write again.
Now, about the money. How much?
Yes. make 1t ten thousand. Get ten
thousand in S and 10 bills and put
1t in shoe box That's good
tie had read that somewhere
tn Re Cnuttuupdl