Page 10 - Contrast1992Fall

Letter from a black woman to a white store-owner, 1953

Since my boy's been gone, I've been remembering.
How your son Timothy and my son Elijah tumbLed
through their seventh summer. They wouLd come
to me wrapped in the same deep earth coLor,
onLythey could not teLLeach other apart,

and J would scrub them clean.
The earth mixed with water and seeped
deep into Elijah's skin, Leaving him darker,
richer than before. But Timothy squirmed
out of his brown skin Likea worm escaping

a tunneLed home during the rain.
Over steaming stew, stocked with vegetabLes
from my Landand spices from your store,
Timothy smiled at me saying, "You cook
goodfor a nigger," like he must have heard

you say. My boy sLapped his smile away
"Don't you call my Mama a Nigger."
Then Timothy came to me crying,
J wrapped my arms around him
and Lethis pink Lipsburrow

into my brown cheek. His lips kissed
me three more times before you realized
that your son was "messing with the coLored
folk:" When Elijah and I came through
the back door of your store to buy

supplies you turned and sent
Timothy back to the house. I Leftmy bag
half-fiLLedWith your sugar and pulled
ELijahforever away from your store
and your sugar-too white and sour
to sweeten the bread my boy ate.

8 Kristine Holland