BUD, NOT BUDDY

CHRISTOPHER PAUL CURTIS

WINNER OF THE NEWBERY MEDAL

 

CHAPTER 14

WHEN WE GOT into the restaurant I could see that it was someone's living
room that they'd set about ten card tables and some folding chairs in. Every
table but one was filled and there were five or six people standing in the
doorway waiting to sit down. We said, "Excuse us" and walked right past. Then
the smell of the place got into my nose and I could tell why folks were lining
up to get in.

I closed my eyes and took in a big snort of air. It was like someone took a old
pot and poured about a hundred gallons of hot apple cider and a hundred
gallons of hot coffee into it, then stirred eight or nine sweet potato pies, crusts
and all, into that, then let six big steamy meat loafs float on top of all that, then
threw in a couple of handfuls of smashed potatoes, then boiled the whole thing
on high. This must be exactly how heaven smells!

I could tell by the smell that Mr. Jimmy was telling the truth when he said this
was the best restaurant in Grand Rapids. Shucks, I've never eaten in one before
but I'd say this was the best restaurant in the world! I opened my eyes 'cause the
smell was starting to get me dizzy.

On the other side of the room Herman E. Calloway was sitting at a table with
Mr. Jimmy and a woman.

Steady Eddie pointed at the only empty table, one that had a sign saying
RESERVED NBC On top of it, and said, "That's where we're at, over there,
Bud. NBC stands for 'Nobody but Calloway,' Mr. C. changes the name of the
band so much that no one can keep up with the new names so they call us NBC
so's they don't have to change the sign."

Before I could sit down with them Mr. Jimmy saw us and said, "Here they are"
and pointed at me and waved for me to come over to their table. Shucks, I'd
rather sit with the band than with Herman E. Calloway, it would be hard to
have a good time eating if you looked up and saw him every time you took a
bite.

The Thug said, "Remember what I said" pointed at the top of his head and
acted like he was smacking some kisses.

I walked to the other table.

Mr. Jimmy said, "Bud, this here's Miss Thomas, she's our vocal stylist."
She could tell I didn't know what that meant so she said, "I'm the singer,
honey."

I said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

She laughed and stuck her hand out for me to shake. There were about nine
diamond rings on just her right hand!

She said, "Oh, my, a gentleman. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance as
well."

Then she took all those ringed-up fingers and rubbed them across my cheek,
held my chin and said, "Come here, child," and pulled my face up close to hers.

Uh-oh, I twisted up my face to get ready for a kiss but instead she looked real
close at me and said, "What's this; baby?" She rubbed her fingers over a couple
of sting spots that I'd been scratching.

For a second I was going to tell her they were vampire bites, but something told
me to tell the truth this time. I said, "That's just some hornet stings, ma'am, I
got bit up when the Amoses locked me in their shed."

It was her turn to twist her face up. "When who locked you up in what shed?"
'They were the people the Home was paying to look after me. I got bit by their
fish-head guards." I showed the woman the bite on my hand. I was surprised to
see it was puffing out from pus.

"My Lord!" she said. "Herman, this child's hand is infected. None of you men
noticed how he looks?"

Herman E. Calloway said, "Talk to James, far as I know he's the only one who
looked at the kid."

Mr. Jimmy said, "Well, Grace, to be truthful I did think the boy's face was a
little swollen up, but you know how dark it is in the Cabin, and, by God, there
are some folks who just naturally have lopsided heads."

She said, "Dark or not, even blind Lemon Jefferson could see something's
wrong with this baby's eye. What happened here, Bud?" She touched
underneath my eye as light as a feather.

I said, "Well, ma'am, Todd Amos woke me up by shoving a pencil up my nose
all the way to the R and when I went to punch him I slapped him instead and it
left a big welt on his cheek so we put up our dukes and went at it and it didn't
take long before I knew I couldn't whip him so I just curled up and fell down"

I looked at Herman E. Calloway to make sure he was listening to the next part.
I wanted to let him know that even though he was real mean our minds thought
about things in the exact same way.

I said, "I fell down, ma'am, 'cause the Lord give me the good sense to know
when enough is enough”

He acted like he didn't hear. So I kept talking to Miss Thomas. "Then Mrs.
Amos came and I could tell they'd gone through my suitcase even though they
promised they wouldn't and she locked me up in the shed where those hornets
and fish-head guards got a hold of me."

Miss Thomas looked like this was some real amazing news.

Herman E. Calloway said, "Sounds like a case of diarrhea of the mouth and
constipation of the brain."

Miss Thomas gave him a dirty look and said, "You said 'the Home,' Bud, what
kind of a home? Where's your momma?"

I said, "She died four years ago, ma'am."

She put her hand on my shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. How 'bout
your daddy? Do you know where he's at?"

I said, "Yes, ma'am."

She said, "Where is he, honey?"

I pointed dead at Herman E. Calloway's big belly again and said, "That's him
right there."

Miss Thomas looked like she wanted to smile but she said, "Now, Bud, I've
only known you for a couple of minutes but I can tell your momma did a fine
job of raising you, I can see you've had a good, proper up-bringing, so I'm kind
of surprised that you're pointing like that."

She was right. I brought my finger down. I said, "I'm sorry, ma'am."
She said, "That's fine, but it wasn't me who got pointed at."

I told Herman E. Calloway, "I'm sorry, sir." But I didn't mean it.

She smiled and said, "That's better, we all make mistakes. You know what,
Bud, you look like you could use a good meal, so why don't you sit right there
and join us?" She pointed a ring-covered finger at the empty chair direct across
from him.

Shucks, how could anyone enjoy their food with Herman E. Calloway staring
back at you?

But maybe my luck was starting to change. As soon as I sat down, Herman E.
Calloway picked up his coffee cup and said, "If you'll excuse me, this is about
where I came in" and walked over to where the band was sitting.

He told them, "All right. Someone's got to give me their seat and go sit with
James and Miss Grace--oh, and my son."

For a second it looked like a stampede of Dusky Devastators of the Depression,
they all jumped up at once and started heading for our table.

They saw what they'd done, laughed, and Steady Eddie said, "Take my seat,
Mr. C., I wanna talk to that kid, he's got the look of a future sax man about
him."

He came over to our table.

Miss Thomas asked me, "Do you mind if I order your supper, Bud?"

I said, "No, ma'am". I couldn't believe you got to order what you wanted, I
thought you just sat down and they'd bring you whatever was on the stove.

A woman came up to the table. She said, "Y'all ready, Miss Thomas?"
Miss Thomas said, "We sure are, Tyla."

Tyla said, "Who's the little fella, did y'all pick up someone new for the band?"
Miss Thomas laughed. "They're getting younger all the time, aren't they? This
here's Bud and he's going to be our guest for a while, so I want to impress him
with something special."

Tyla said, "Well, you know you brought him to the right place. It's nice to meet
you, Bud."

I said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

She said, "Ma'am? Mercy, Miss Thomas, your guest has some real fine
manners. I can tell that he isn't one of those rude, crude folks Mr. Calloway
usually scours up."

Steady Eddie said, " Tyla, I am crushed."

She said, "Bud, I apologize for mistaking you for a musician."

I told her, "That's OK, ma'am, no offense taken."

Miss Thomas said, "Is there any more of that meat loaf left?"

"Yes, ma'am, sure is."

"How about some okra and mashed potatoes too, Bud?"

"Thank you, ma'am."

"And does a glass of apple cider sound good?" "Yes, ma'am, thank you,
ma'am."

"OK," she said, "I’ll have the same.''

Jimmy ordered a supper that was all the way different from mine and Steady
Eddie ordered one that was all the way different from his! No wonder you hear
about rich folks going to restaurants once a week, this was great!
Miss Tyla went away and Miss Thomas started back on me.

"Bud, I've got to let you know that I'm pretty sure that there's just no way that
Mr. C. is your father. Tell me what gave you the idea he was."

"My mother did, ma'am."

Miss Thomas looked over at Mr. Jimmy real quick, then said, "Sweetheart, did
you know a whole lot of people all over the state know Mr. C., did you know
he's pretty famous?"

"No, ma'am."

"Ah, well. You know what I think? I think maybe your mother heard him on
the radio or heard somebody talking about him or saw the band somewhere and
told you that Mr. C. reminded her of your father and you misunderstood what
she meant, isn't that possible?"

"I don't think so, ma'am."

She looked at me for a second, then said, "Did she come right out and say,
'Your daddy is Herman E. Calloway,' Bud?"

"Well, almost. But not in words just like that."

"Then tell me what the words were like, honey."

Uh-oh. It was going to be hard to explain to Miss Thomas about mighty maples
and hints from flyers. As long as I kept Herman E. Calloway being my father to
myself the whole thing made real good sense, but as soon as I tried to tell other
folks about it, it seemed like maybe it was something some stupid kid had
dreamed up, like it was wishing and hoping instead of something true and real.

I looked down at my suitcase and said, "Well ..."

And I could tell my luck was changing, before I could say anything else Miss
Tyla was at our table with a tray.

Miss Thomas reached across the table, patted my hand and said, "We'll talk
tomorrow, Bud, I bet you're sick and tired of answering people's questions,
aren't you?"

I said, "Yes, ma'am, I am." But I did notice that she'd said "tomorrow." That
might mean they weren't going to try to send me back to Flint right away!

Miss Tyla said, "Miss Thomas," and set a plate in front of her, then said, "Mr.
Jimmy" and gave him some food too, then said, "Steady" and put his plate
down so that it rattled a little, then said, "And finally, the young gentleman"
and put a plate crammed with food in front of me!

It was the best meal I'd ever had, and when it was done Miss Tyla brought me a
dessert she called "On the House." It was a piece of warm sweet potato pie with
some white fluffy stuff called whipped cream swopped all over the top of it.

After I shoved the last crumbs of pie in my mouth and scraped up the last little
dribbles of whipped cream, I looked around at the people at my table and I
couldn't help breaking out in a big smile.

I didn't see it before, but now that I looked I could tell that Miss Thomas must
be the most beautiful woman in the world. When she talked she moved her
hands and fingers around and the lights from the ceiling and from the little
candle on the table would bounce off all them diamonds and spark up in your
eye and make you feel like you'd been hit with some kind of magic fairy dust,
then you couldn't help but smile.

All the while she'd hum too, but hum doesn't seem like it's the right word for
what she was doing. Most times I'd heard humming before it was just a excuse
for not being able to sing or something people'd do if they didn't know the
words to a song. Uh-uh, that doesn't fit the sounds Miss Thomas was making,
you couldn't help but look up and wonder if this was a real human being that
was making these sounds.

What her humming reminded me most of was that feeling you get when you
walk barefoot on a railroad track and, for a long time before you can see it, you
can feel the train coming right through the bottoms of your feet. Her humming
started slow and easy at first, but then, just like you could feel that train shakea-
shake- a-shaking from somewhere far off, after while Miss Thomas's
humming made you feel like something big and strong was passing right by
you and everything on you was getting rattly and shaky and about to get shook
loose. It made you want to drop your fork and grab hold of something solid.

From hearing just this little bit of humming I could understand why Mr. Jimmy
didn't call her a singer, singer wasn't a big enough word to take in the kind of
music that was jumping out of Miss Thomas's chest.

And I didn't notice before how funny Mr. Jimmy was. The stories he was
telling about traveling around the country with Herman E. Calloway had us all
laughing so much that even the nosy people at all the tables near ours quit
eating and were busting their guts and throwing their two cents into the stories.

The only table that was quiet was where the Dusky Devastators were sitting. It
seemed like Herman E. Calloway could make it so you just wanted to sit and
watch your hands with a sad look on your face.

And I hadn't noticed before how nice Steady Eddie was either. He talked out of
the side of his mouth and kept his eyes kind of blinked halfway down,
especially when Miss Tyla would come to our table to see if we were all right,
which she did a lot. And he was the first person I'd ever seen who could eat and
talk and laugh and drink and sneeze whilst keeping a toothpick dangling out of
his mouth, no matter what he'd do that toothpick always stayed dancing just
below his mustache. And Steady Eddie took his time to show me how to hold
my lips and how to put my fingers like I was really playing a pretend
saxophone.

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, if it was when I was scraping up the last
little drops of melted whipped cream or if it was when Miss Thomas's fingers
got to flinging all that magic fairy dust, but sometime whilst I was sitting in the
Sweet Pea another seed got to sprouting, sometime in that smells-like-heaven
place another mighty maple started digging down its roots and grabbing hold.

One second I was laughing my head off and the next second I was feeling very
surprised 'cause something hit me just as hard as Snaggletooth MacNevin had
smacked Herman E. Calloway. All of a sudden I knew that of all the places in
the world that I'd ever been in this was the one. That of all the people I'd ever
met these were the ones. This was where I was supposed to be.

And Herman E. Calloway could kiss my wrist if he thought he was gonna scare
me out of this. It was gonna take more than a grouchy old bald-headed guy with
a tremendous belly to run me out of here.

I was smiling and laughing and busting my gut so much that I got carried away
and some rusty old valve squeaked open in me then -- woop, zoop, sloop --
tears started jumping out of my eyes so hard that I had to cover my face with
the big red and white napkin that was on the table.

I hadn't been this embarrassed since I woke up and found Mrs. Sleet looking at
my legs. I could tell that everyone in the Sweet Pea had stopped laughing and
talking and had started looking at me, but I still couldn't quit bawling. Momma
used to tell me I'd only get one chance to make a first impression and it looked
like I was blowing it with the Dusky Devastators of the Depression.

Shucks. Finally I had to put my face in my arms on top of the table and put the
napkin over my head like it was a little blanket 'cause, try as hard as I wanted, it
didn't look like I was gonna get this doggone valve closed any time soon.

I felt Miss Thomas's hand come up under the napkin and rub real soft and slow
back and forth over my head. She pulled me out of my chair into her lap and
wrapped her arms around me and bounced me up and down on her knee.

Dangee, I'd never have any kind of reputation with the band now, the only
thing I could do was hang on to the napkin and try to make it so folks wouldn't
notice how wet my face was.

She said, so quiet that I was the only one who could hear it, "OK, baby, OK. I
know, sweetheart, I know” Then she started humming again and with my ear
mashed up against her chest it felt like all my bones and muscles quit doing
their jobs, it felt like something as big as a steam locomotive engine was chug chug-
chugging right past my ear.

I wasn't sure if it was her lips or her hand, but something whispered to me in a
language that I didn't have any trouble understanding, it said. "Go ahead and
cry. Bud, you're home."

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