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his night-stick and whip your head to the red. Beat your head just as flat as a dime!" She went off into a great blow of laughter.

"Aw, I wasn't scared of him" Sweet Back tried to be casual. "I just know de fool is crazy. De way he carries on, you would think I been fooling with some of his wives. He never hit me. He just hit where I was."

"You all really did turn on the fan!" The girl kept on laughing, and both of the men jumped salty. But nothing they said showed it.

"Oh, seeing that he is one of my color, I let him go and call him lucky." Sweet Back went on. "A cracker cop down in Georgia got in my face one time and I shot him lightly and he died politely."

"I know its de truth!" The girl smiled salty like. "I bet you come away from there so fast till your hip pockets was dipping sand."

"Oh, let's us don't talk about the law. Let's talk about us." Sweet Back persisted. "You going inside with me to holler 'let one come flopping! One come grunting! Snatch one from de rear!'"

"Naw indeed!" The girl laughed harshly. "You skillets is trying to promote a meal on me. But it will never happen, brother. You barking up the wrong tree. I wouldn't give you air if you was stopped up in a jug. I'm not putting out a thing. I'm just like the cemetery--I'm not putting out, I'm taking in!" She reared back and regarded the two with scorn. "Dig?"

"I'll tell you like the farmer told the potato---plant you now and dig you later."

The girl made a movement to switch on off. Sweet Back had not dirtied a plate since the day before. He made a weak but significant gesture.

"Trying to snatch my pocket-book, eh?" She blazed. Instead of running, she grabbed hold of Sweet Back's draping coat-tail and made a slashing gesture. "How much split you want back here? If your feet don't hurry up and take you way from here you'll ride away. I'll spread

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my lungs all over New York and call the law. Go ahead, Bedbug! Touch me!
And I'll holler like a pretty white woman!

The boys were ready to flee, but she turned suddenly and rocked on
off with her ear-rings snapping and her heels popping.

"My people! My people!!" Sweet Back sighed when he was calm enough
to speak. ♕

"I know you feel chewed." Jelly said in an effort to make it appear
that he had had no part in the fiasco.

"Oh, let her go." Sweet Back said magnanimously. "When I see people
without the periodical principles they's supposed to have, I just don't
fool with 'em. What I want to steal her old pocket-book with all the
money I got? I could buy a beat chick like her and give her away. I
got money's mammy and Grandma's change. One of my women, and not the
best one I got neither, is buying me ten shag suits at one time. All I
got to do is to go round to the tailor shop and try 'em on."

He glanced sidewise at Jelly to see if he was convincing. But
Jelly's thoughts were far away. He was remembering those full, hot
meals he had left back in Alabama to seek wealth and splendor in Harlem
without working. He had even forgotten to look cocky and rich. He was
thinking corroding thoughts about the white folks in this man's town--
so cold and finicky about jobs. So mean about folks being on time and
things had to be done just so. They would call you 'Mister' all right,
just like he had been told that they would. But they kept their old
clothes and wore them themselves. You better not never ask them about
a loan before pay-day. Then too, these Harlem landladies! They didn't
want a thing out of you but your rent. One thing had been over-rated.
These lady-people wasn't as lonesome for love as he had been before somebody
had told him. His hunger brought him back to the present. He decided
he had better mooch on around to a certain hair-dressing parlor. The
woman who ran it usually gave him a dime or two if he ran errands for
her, which was more work than he wanted to do, but which he did when

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the hunting was poor.

"Well, I better get on down town and see if them folks at de car
place got my Packard ready for me. My woman just would buy it. Told
her I didn't want to be bothered with no car." Jelly said this casually
as if it bored him to death.

"Some here" Sweet Back came back snappily. "Okay, Jelly. See you in
the funny papers. If I don't see you no more in this mark world, I'll
meet you in Africa."

"Abbysinia" Jelly said. "Don't get into no more scrapes like you done
just now."

"Oh, well, Jelly, if you don't bite, you don't taste."

Both of them stiffened their arms at their sides, pointed their
first fingers rigidly at the ground in the pimps' salute and went
their separate ways.

Zora Neale Hurston

March 30, 1942

NOW YOU COOKIN' WITH GAS

By
Zora Neale Hurston

They called this Zigaboo, Jelly, because he swore that he was sweet. When it came to sugar-curing ladies' feelings, filling that long-felt need, sweet-backing, pimping, and just general scooter-pooking, he was in a class all by himself, he said. Whenever he was challenged by a hard-head or some frail eel as to whether his title was right, he eyeballed them with a slice of ice and said, "Youse dumb to de fact. I wouldnt mislead you. I cant miss, not with the help I got. Baby, it must be jelly, 'cause jam dont shake." Then he would give the pimp's salute, and percolate on down the avenue. You cant go behind a fact like that.

So he was airing out on the Avenue. That means it was long after noon. He wouldnt be out there too soon. All you did by rolling out early was stir your stomach up. But you cant collar nods all day. Sooner or later that big gut is going to reach over and grab that little one and start to gnaw. Thats confidential, you got to get out on the beat and collar a hot.

At 132nd Street he spied one of his colleagues across the street. He took a quick backwards peep at his shoe soles to see how his leather was holding out. Plenty to get across and do a little cruising besides. He stanched out into the street. Maybe Sweet Back could be talked out of a reefer and a thousand on a plate. He made it across.

"Hi there, Sweet Back, gimme some skin!"

"Lay de skin on me!" Sweet Back crowed and stuck out his hand. "Aint seen you since de last time. What's cookin'? "

"Oh, just like de bear---I aint nowhere. Like de bear's brother--"

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aint no further. Like de bear's daughter, I aint got a quarter."

" Cold in hand, hunh? You aint got no business in de barrel. Last time I seen you, you was beating up your gums about how hot you was. Told me you was as hot as July jam. What you doing cold in hand?"

"Aw, man, I was just beating up my gums. Got de world in a mgx jug. Got de world by de tail with a down-hill pull. Man, I got de best woman in Harlem. If I ask her for a dime, she'll gimme a ten dollar bill. Ask her for a drink of likker, she'll haull off and buy me a whiskey still. If I'm lying, I'm flying."

"Gar, (Negro) dont hang out dat dirty washing in my backyard. I seen you late last night with that beat chick scoffing a hot dog. That broad was beat to the heels."

" Git out of my face with that crap, Sweet Back! You never even seen me cause I wasnt scuffing. I was riding round in a Yellow Cab, with a yellow gal, spending yellow money and drinking yellow whiskey."

"That one wasnt yellow I seen you with last night. She was one of them coal-scuttle blondes, with hair just as close to her head as ninety-nine is to a hundred. She had seventy-five pounds of clear bosom, guts in her feet, and looked six months in front and nine months behind. Buy you a whiskey still! Dat beat chick couldt make the down-payment on a pair of sox."

" I know you aint personatin' me, jig. (Negro) I was out balling and spreading my jenk like an airedale. Youse dumb to the fact. If you dont know nothing, you ought to ask somebody. Man, I can lay it! Git any frail eel I want. Had to leave from down south 'cause Miss Anne (white woman) used to worry me so bad. I dont deal in no coal. (black woman) Know what my motto is? If they white, they's right. If they's yellow, they's mellow. If they's brown, they can stick around. If they's black, they better git way back. Thats me. Tell 'em bout me!"

" Jelly, you aint nothing but a gum-beater! You might confider

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some kitchen mechanic, and spend a dime or two, but you cant lay no racket with the dickties.Man, I knocks the pad with them cack broads on Sugar Hill and fill 'em full of melody.I'm out there,man! I dances on every set.Youse a home,boy, Jelly. Dont try to follow me."

"Follow you! Man, if dat jive you putting out is so, God is gone to Jersey City, and you know He wouldnt be messing around there.Know what my woman done? We went to church last Sunday and when the penny collection was took up,I throwed a dollar in the penny collection! De man looked at me real hard,and my woman got mad and called him back and throwed in a twenty dollar bill! Told him to take dat and go.Dtas what he got for looking hard at me."

"Jelly, de wind may blow and de door may slam. Dat whut you shooting aint worth a damn, Thats your mammy!"

"Dont fix you tell me that, Sweet Back. I dont play the dozens."

(The word 'mammy' is an insult. Playing the dozens is low-rating the ancestors of another)

"You trying to jump salty?" (Get angry)

"Yeah, and if I had a conk-buster (club) with me, I'd drive up to your knot (head) and stay with it a week."

"You might have that frow (or froe) (pocket knife) with you, but if you aint got your smoke-stack on you too, dont bring the mess up!" (Dont start anything) "Cause I'm ported to go." (Ready)

Both of the men made a sudden start.Sweet Back was in a cold sweat because he hsd over-sported his hand and he thought for a second that Jelly was going to call his bluff. Jelly bent his knees to run because he was not sure that Sweet Back was bluffing.Then both of them realized that the other was bluffing and stood firm.

"Look out there, Sweet Back!" Jelly threatened."Dont you get too yaller!" (Dont take on the prerogatives of a mulatto,i.e. too biggity and imposing)

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"I'll do you like the farmer done the potato---plant you now and dig you later. So long."

"Whats your hurry, pal?"

"Oh, got to do a little scooping with a broad thats buying me a Packard.Lightly, slightly and politely!"

"Bye, Jelly. Got to mooch along myself and collar me a shot of scrap-iron.(Likker) Then I reckon I got to pastor some with a frail me eel that's buying me two shags (Harlem style suits) Man them togs is hot! Just as hot as little sister! Zoot suits, with the reet pleats!"

The two friends were about to part when both of them saw a gilr coming down the street. It was Wednesday afternoon, plenty of domestics off for the afternoon. Some of them must be hungry for love.This one might mean a dinner,a shot of scrap-iron and a reefer. It did happen, well, sometimes.So they could keep on hoping for forty shags,a Packard, and flash-money. Both of them hoped that the other had other fish to fry, but both of them straightened up, set their lapels and put on the look that said, "here it is, mama! Best in town."

"Big stars falling, Sweet Back" Jelly said out loud when she was in hearing distance. "Must be just before day!" He put all the awe and admiration he had on hand in his voice and eyes.

"Yeah, man!" Sweet Back confided out loud."Must be a recess in Heaven. "Pretty angel like that out on the ground."

The girl drew her breast of them, long ear-rings swinging, reeling and rocking in her hips.

"I'd go clean to Diddy-Wah-Diddy to get chance to speak to a pretty lil' ground-angel like that." Jelly said for her benefit.

"I'd go further than that. Man I'd go slap to Ginny Gall, where they eat cow-rump, skin and all."

The girl smiled, and Jelly took the bit. "Baby", he crooned, "what's on de rail for de lizard?"

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"The girl halted and braced her hips with her hands. " Zigaboo down in Georgy where I come from asked a woman that one time, and the judge told him ninety days."

Sweet Back ignored the threat and cooed, "You from Georgy, Baby? I thought you was one of them peaches. I'm from right down there myself."

"One of then russians, eh?---Rushed up her to get away from a job of work?"

"Not exactly from no work. Mister Charlie piz (white man) plays too rough for me. I aint none of them cowards like them shines (Negroes) down in Bam (south) They liable to make me kill somebody. I'm mean! I got Indian blood in me! So I just come on off to keep from killing me somebody."

"I know its the truth!" The girl said with a cut-eye look.

"This was not the way the talk was supposed to go. It was not leading towards a dinner table, so Jelly took the lead."

"Baby, that shape you got on you!" He admired with his eyes from head to foot. "I bet the Coca Cola Company is paying you good money for the patent."

The girl smiled and waved a little about the hips.

"I know youse somebody swell to know" Sweet Back cut in. "Youse real people. You grins like a regular fellow. These dickty jigs tries to smile." He gave her his most killing look and let it simmer in, "Come on lets we go to the cafe down the street and grab a hot."

The girl stiffened like a ram-rod. "You got any money? You aint pimping on me, Dig? I seen you mullet-heads before. Both of you, Joe Brown had you in the go-long last Wednesday night. Ha! Ha! And did you all turn on the fan! (Run in fear) Joe Brown sure hates a pimp." All he needs to see you do is make the pimp's salute and he outs with his night-stick and give your head a whipping. Beat your head as flat as a dime."