Tale 1: The Jelly-Bean (Part IV)

Adapted by Khidir Mohamed Yazir (Kid Haider)

IV

Above Tilly's garage, there was a dreary room that echoed all day with the sounds of cars rumbling and snorting downstairs, and the washers singing as they sprayed water on the cars outside. The room was plain and simple, with just a bed and a worn-out table that held a few books. There was "Joe Miller's Slow Train through Arkansas," an old edition of "Lucille" with lots of notes in a fancy handwriting, "The Eyes of the World" by Harold Bell Wright, and an ancient prayer book from the Church of England with the name Alice Powell and the date 1831 written on the first page.

As Jelly-bean entered the garage, the gray sky of the East transformed into a vibrant blue as he switched on his solitary electric light. He quickly turned it off again and walked over to the window, resting his elbows on the sill as he gazed out into the morning. As his emotions stirred, he couldn't shake the feeling of hopelessness, a dull ache at the monotonous grayness of his life. It was as if a wall had suddenly sprung up around him, trapping him in a world devoid of color and excitement.

The carefree Jelly-bean who used to stroll down Jackson Street, humming a tune, exchanging greetings with everyone he passed, and always ready with a joke, had disappeared. He realized that his previous way of life, filled with spontaneity and generosity, had lost its charm. He understood that Merritt probably looked down on him, and even Nancy, whom he had feelings for, would likely see him in a different light.

In a moment of clarity, Jelly-bean recognized that he had been deceiving himself and others. He had been hiding behind a facade, pretending to be someone he wasn't. He had been Nancy's "moral laundry," trying to wash away the stains of his own shortcomings. But now, he saw the truth - he was just as flawed and imperfect as everyone else.

As the gray of dawn turned into a beautiful blue, filling the room with light, he walked over to his bed and collapsed onto it, clutching the edges tightly.

"I love her," he exclaimed, "Oh God!"

As he spoke, something inside him seemed to break, like a lump dissolving in his throat. The air cleared, the room filled with the glow of morning, and he rolled over onto his face, tears silently soaking into the pillow.

In the bright sunshine of three o'clock, Clark Darrow was slowly driving down Jackson Street when he spotted the Jelly-bean standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets.

"Hey!" called Clark, bringing his Ford to a sudden stop next to him. "Just getting up?"

The Jelly-bean shook his head. "Never went to bed. Felt restless, so I went for a long walk in the country this morning. Just got back into town."

"I can relate to feeling restless. I've been feeling that way all day," Clark replied.

"I'm thinking of leaving town," the Jelly-bean said, lost in his own thoughts. "Considering heading up to the farm to help out Uncle Dun. I've been bumming around for too long."

Clark sat in silence as the Jelly-bean continued speaking.

"I reckon maybe after Aunt Mamie dies, I could invest my money in the farm and make something out of it. All my people originally came from that part up there. Had a big place," the Jelly-bean said.

Clark looked at him curiously.

"That's funny," he said. "This sort of affected me the same way."

The Jelly-bean hesitated.

"I don't know," he began slowly. "Something about that girl last night talking about a lady named Diana Manners—an English lady—sort of got me thinking!" He drew himself up and looked oddly at Clark. "I had a family once," he said defiantly.

Clark nodded.

"I know."

"And I'm the last of them," continued the Jelly-bean, his voice rising slightly. "And I ain't worth shucks. The name they call me by means jelly—weak and wobbly like. People who weren't nothing when my folks were a lot turn up their noses when they pass me on the street."

Again, Clark was silent.

"So I'm through. I'm going today. And when I come back to this town, it's going to be like a gentleman."

Clark took out his handkerchief and wiped his damp brow.

"I guess you're not the only one who was shaken up by all this," he said gloomily. "The way these girls are behaving, it's going to have to stop soon. It's a shame, but everyone will have to accept it."

"Do you mean to say that everyone knows about this?" Jim asked, surprised.

"Know about it? How could they keep it a secret? It will be in the newspapers tonight. Doctor Lamar has to protect his reputation somehow."

Jim gripped the sides of the car tightly, his fingers digging into the metal.

"Are you saying that Taylor looked into those checks?"

Clark was taken aback. "Haven't you heard what happened?"

Jim's eyes widened in shock.

"Well," Clark announced dramatically, "those four got another bottle of moonshine, got drunk, and decided to surprise the town—so Nancy and that guy Merritt got married in Rockville at seven o'clock this morning."

A small dent appeared in the metal under the Jelly-bean's fingers.

"Married?"

"Sure enough, Nancy sobered up and rushed back into town, crying and frightened, claiming it was all a mistake. At first, Doctor Lamar was furious and was going to harm Merritt, but they managed to resolve the situation somehow. Eventually, Nancy and Merritt caught the two-thirty train to Savannah.

Jim closed his eyes and fought off a sudden wave of nausea.

"It's a shame," Clark said thoughtfully. "Not about the wedding - I think that's fine. But it's sad to see a nice girl like Nancy hurting her family like this."

The Jelly-bean released the car and walked away, feeling a strange internal shift happening within him.

"Where are you off to?" Clark asked.

The Jelly-bean turned back, looking tired.

"I have to go," he mumbled. "I've been up too long and I'm feeling really sick."

"Oh."

* * * * * 

The street was scorching at three and even hotter at four, with the April dust swirling around like a never-ending joke played by the sun. But by half past four, a sense of calm settled in as the shadows grew longer under the awnings and leafy trees. In the midst of the heat, nothing else seemed to matter. Life itself felt like the weather, just waiting for the cool relief that was as comforting as a gentle touch on a tired forehead.

There's a certain feeling down in Georgia that this is the ultimate wisdom of the South. So, eventually, the Jelly-bean made his way to a pool hall on Jackson Street, where he knew he'd find a friendly crowd ready to share some old jokes and good times.