The morning after the raffle at Carmelite’s house, the East Green was in a veritable fever of excitement. Such a number of things had happened, it seemed that all the neighbors of the Green were out-of-doors discussing the strange events. Some amused, others genuinely distressed; all amazed and amazingly voluble.
The morning after the raffle at Carmelite’s house, the East Green was in a veritable fever of excitement. Such a number of things had happened, it seemed that all the neighbors of the Green were out-of-doors discussing the strange events. Some amused, others genuinely distressed; all amazed and amazingly voluble.
Nobody appeared to be concerned about work. Women on their way to market stopped at front gates to laugh about the “upsetment” Gussie caused at the raffle. Some stood on street corners rehearsing the account of Tempe’s mysterious drowning in the well, and the new pleasure that awaited them at her approaching funeral. While others spoke in awed tones of the disorderly conduct of Gussie at Carmelite’s house, and the disastrous fate that followed him on his way home.
Where did he go after the women carried him out of Carmelite’s kitchen and left him on the street? They asked one another. Nobody remembered seeing him at Tempe’s wake.... Maybe Gussie was drunk when the engine knocked him down?...
And what made them leave him out there on the track alone? Didn’t nobody on the engine know they had runned over a man?... Who found the body first, and went and carried Aunt Fisky the bad news?
So the comment and questioning continued. But no one seemed to have any definite knowledge of the sad tragedy. All Carmelite knew was what Aunt Fisky had told her when she went to bring her the quilt, early that morning. The old woman said she got up about six o’clock; and when she opened the gate to let the ducks out to the crawfish pond, she saw a crowd of people standing by the switch, across the Green. She went over to see what had happened, and they told her that Gussie had been run over by the switch engine sometime during the night. That just a short while before, the man in charge of the switch lights found the body when he was going his rounds; and they were waiting for the coroner to come before the body could be moved.
Carmelite told how she remained with Aunt Fisky, helping her to get the house in readiness, “makin’ evvything look nice for Gussie w’en dey fetched de body home.”
“Po’ ole soul, she mus’ bin bowed down heavy!” Mozella commented feelingly.
“No she ain’t,” Carmelite answered. “Aun’ Fiskysho is got de right un’stannin’ ’bout de way Gussie runned up on Death, an’ went ’way from hyuh wid nobody ’round ’im.... She say Gawd was jus’ natchally watchin’ ove’ ’im careful. Right hyuh in dis Green.... An’ knowed all ’bout de danger comin’ up on Gussie in de darkness.... Knowed it good.... ’Cause Gawd bin watchin’ Gussie for a long time. An’ tol’ ’uh He was hol’in Gussie right in ’Is han’s.... Waitin’ till de sperret command ’Im to cut Gussie down....”
“Dey ain’ goin’ hol’ de wake in de church, is dey?” one of the women asked, incredulously.
“W’at business dey got bringin’ Gussie up in inny church?” Carmelite asked abruptly; surprised at her friend’s display of ignorance. “Evvybody know old sinful Gussie ain’ never bin no Chrishtun.... Preachin’ ove’ ’im now ain’ goin’ do no good; yonder whah he walkin’ munks all dem heavy swingein’ flames, tawmentin’ his po’ soul an’ body.”
“An’ I bet ole no-count Gussie ain’ left a dry nickel to pay de un’taker for ridin’ ’im down to de graveyard, either,” commented Soongy, shaking her head reflectively.
Yes he did. Carmelite assured her. The secret society was going to take charge of the funeral. Gussie belonged to the “Nights o’ Peefus.” And word had been sent to all the members to come to thewake at Aunt Fisky’s house that night. Gussie would be sure to have a fine funeral; she declared with authority. Because the Peefus Lodge always had a fine band of music. “An’ de secaterry already done give out de news dat Gussie died finanshul.”
Feeling satisfied with having acquainted her friends with all these important details, Carmelite left them; saying that she was going to Lethe’s house to deliver a message from Aunt Fisky.
Eager to bestow upon Gussie any small honor that would lend added dignity to the farewell ceremony, the old woman asked Carmelite to go and see some of the friends who had played with Gussie in early childhood, and ask them to come and serve as pall-bearers at the funeral. Having notified all but one, Carmelite asked Lethe to send word to Felo and get his promise to be present the next day. This duty accomplished, she told Lethe that she was going home “to git down on her knees an’ wipe up all dem mud tracks on her flo’. An’ try an’ chastise her cawnshunce for de mean way she set to po’ Gussie. Not knowin’ de po’ soul was jus’ ’bout ready to stumble into Hell-fire.”
“Ain’ it true?” Lethe corroborated with thorough understanding. “Dis whole life ain’ resemble nothin’ mo’n a fatal mat’en-nee.” (Matinee.)