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Chapter Five
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"Well, look what the cat dragged in today!" said the waitress. The friends had burst in the door, laughing, and soaked to the skin. "I wish I had some towels to give you."
"That won't be necessary," Jaben said, looking around the diner. It was a small, cheery place, with a friendly noise about it. "Seven, nonsmoking."
The waitress counted out seven menus, and said, "Walk this way, please."
Sarah said, "Did you see the look on those people's faces when we walked in?"
Thaddeus said, "Yep."
They sat down around the table, and began to look through the menus. But not for long.
"Hey, Désirée. Tell us that joke you told me," said Lilianne.
"Ok," Désirée said. "There was once an unusually liberal and generous slave owner named Jim, who had a witty slave named Ike. Each morning they would tell each other their dreams (or so they said), and the one with the better dream won. Usually it was the master, Jim.
"One morning, Jim said, 'I dreamed that I went to Negro Heaven, and in there everything was broken and dirty. The houses had holes in the walls, the windows were broken, and there was mud in the streets, and there were dirty Negroes all over the place.'
"Ike said, 'Wow, master. We must have dreamed the same thing. I dreamed I went to White Heaven, and everything was spotless and immaculate -- gold and ivory -- and there were mansions and silver streets, but there wasn't a soul in the place!'"
Lilianne said, "I remembered the joke I mentioned to you last night, Désirée, but couldn't remember. There was a Jew named Jacob, who was financially in a bad way. He went to the synagogue, and prayed, 'God, my bank account is low, and business is bad. Please let me win the lottery.'
"Some time passed, and he didn't win the lottery. He ran out of money, and was in danger of being evicted. So Jacob went to the synagogue and prayed more fervently, 'God, I've worked for you so hard, and I ask for so little. Please let me, just this once, win the lottery.'
"More time passed, and Jacob lost his house, his car. His family was out on the street. He came to the synagogue, and prayed, 'Why, God, why? Why won't you let me win the lottery?'
"The voice of God boomed forth, and said, 'Jacob! Meet me half-way on this one. Buy a stupid ticket!'"
There was silence, and then one laugh, and then another. The waitress came back, and asked, "Are you ready to order yet?"
"Um, uh, order. We were telling jokes. Could you give us a few more minutes?" asked Thaddeus.
"Certainly," the waitress said, walking off.
This time, they made use of their menus, and thought of what to eat. The waitress came at the end, and they ordered -- a few sandwiches, some soups, some fish...
"What do you call someone who speaks three languages?" asked Jaben.
"Uh, trilingual?" said Désirée.
"Good. What do you call someone who speaks two languages?"
"Bilingual!" said Sarah, smiling.
"And what do you call someone who speaks only one language?"
There was silence.
"American," Jaben said.
Lilianne, smiling, said, "Here's one. An English politician was speaking in a town near the Scottish border. In his speech, he slowly and emphatically said, 'I was born an Englishman, I was raised an Englishman, and I will die an Englishman.'
"A Scottish voice from the back asked, 'Ach, man. Have you no ambition?'"
After the chuckles died down, Thad said to Ellamae, "You look like you have something to say."
Ellamae nodded, and said, "I do, but it's a story I'm thinking of, not a joke."
"Go ahead and tell it," Désirée said.
"My mother has a harelip, as you know; that is a bit difficult for her now, but it was devastating to her as a little girl. She was teased quite a bit, and she would tell people that she had cut her lip on a shard of glass -- somehow that was easier to admit than a physical deformity from birth. She was always unsure of herself, embarrassed, feeling less than her peers.
"One of the teachers was a kindly, plump little woman, Mrs. Codman, who had a sunny soul and was the delight of the children. Children would clamor about her, and her heart was big enough for all of them.
"The day came for the annual hearing test, when the children would cup their hands to their ears, and Mrs. Codman would whisper a sentence into their ears -- something like 'The moon is blue,' or 'I have new shoes,' and the children would say what they heard.
"My mother's turn came, and Mrs. Codman whispered into her ear," -- and then Ellamae spoke very slowly, and her voice dropped to a whisper -- "'I wish you were my little girl.'"
There was silence. Ellamae sat with a kind of quiet dignity; she glowed.
She continued. "Those seven words changed her life. She became able to trust people, to venture forth, to have courage and see her own beauty. I think those words have changed my life, too. Now that I think of it, the unspoken message she gave me throughout my childhood was, 'I'm glad you're my little girl.'"
She smiled, in a subtle, subdued manner, her elfin features bore a look that was regal, majestic, aristocratic.
"Wow," Thaddeus said. "I never knew that about you or your mother." He paused, closed his eyes in thought a moment, and said, "And I can see how it has shaped you."
Ellamae's eyes teared. "Terima kasih."
Thaddeus's eyes lit up. "Sama sama."
They sat in blissful silence, a silence that spoke more powerfully than words.
Words were not needed.
The food arrived, piping hot; they joined hands and sat together in silence, their wet clothes beginning to dry. Finally, Amos said, "Amen," and they began to eat without breaking the quiet.
Or at least they did not use their voices; I cannot tell you in full truth that they did not talk. They looked at each other, smiled, squeezed hands, let a tear slide, prayed. No words were exchanged, but a great deal was communicated.
When they finished, the waitress came with the check, and tarried a second.
"Ma'am?" Thaddeus said.
"Yes?" she said, slightly surprised.
"There is something you want to say to us, or ask us. What is it?"
She looked startled, and hesitated.
"You won't offend us. Promise," he said.
"Well, uh... You seem a little odd, not talking a whole meal long."
"That's not really what's on your mind."
"Ok, honey. Why are y'all telling racist jokes?"
Thaddeus said, "Thank you for being honest. To tell you the truth, we were a bit giddy. We probably shouldn't have told those jokes in a restaurant."
"No, I mean, why y'all telling racist jokes in the first place? You guys don't seem the type that needs to tell those jokes. You look me in the eye, for one thing. You confuse me."
"Do you ever tease your friends? Or do your friends ever tease you?"
"All the time."
"Do you ever insult your friends? Or do your friends ever insult you? A real insult, I mean?"
"Never."
"You see these jokes as being insults. Which racist humor may be. But this is not racist humor. It's racial humor. It's really much more like teasing."
"That joke about the Jew was just plain mean."
"That joke," Lilianne said, "is a Jewish joke, and was told to me by a Jewish friend. It is quite typical of Jewish humor."
The waitress hesitated. "But why do you need it in the first place? Don't race relations matter to you? I would hope so, seeing as how you have a group of friends with both black and white."
"They matter to us a great deal. What would your friendships be like if there was no room for teasing's rowdy energy, if you always had to always walk on eggshells? Wouldn't a friendship be better if it could absorb the energy of teasing and laugh a big belly laugh?"
"Could I have some time to think about it?"
"Take as much time as you want. We come by this town every now and then; we might stop in, and maybe we'll be able to see you. And at any rate, I think you grasp our point, whether or not you agree with it."
The waitress said, "Thank you." She turned, started to walk away, and said, "And thank you for explaining. By the way, I was listening to the radio, and the fire is put out. The helicopter plus that tremendous rainstorm did it, not to mention flooded a few basements."
"Woo-hoo!" shouted Sarah.
They paid the bill, leaving a generous tip, and headed out the door.
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Chapter Five
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