Game

Alice Childress

The Pocketbook Game

Marge... Day’s work is an education! Well, I mean workin’ in different homes you learn much more than if you was steady in one place... I tell you, it really keeps your mind sharp tryin’ to watch for what folks will put over on you.  What?... No, Marge, I do not want to help shell no beans,  but I’d be more than glad to stay and have supper with you, and I’ll wash the dishes after. Is that all right?... Who put anything over on who? . . . Oh yes! It’s like this. I been working for Mrs. E... one day a week for several  months and I notice that she has some peculiar ways. Well, there  was only one thing that really bothered me and that was her  pocketbook habit... No, not those little novels... I mean  her purse — her handbag.

Marge, she’s got a big old pocketbook with two long straps on it... and whenever I’d go there, she’d be propped up in a chair  with her handbag double wrapped tight around her wrist, and  from room to room she’d roam with that purse hugged to her bosom... yes, girl! This happens every time! No, there’s no#body there but me and her... Marge, I couldn’t say nothin’ to ‘her! It’s her purse, ain’t it? She can hold onto it if she wants to! I held my peace for months, tryin’ to figure out how I’d make my point... Well, bless Bess! Today was the day!… Please, Marge, keep shellin’ the beans so we can eat! I know you're listenin’, but you listen with your ears, not your hands... Well, anyway, I was almost ready to go home when she steps in the room hangin’ onto her bag as usual and says, “Mildred, will you ask the super to come up and fix the kitchen faucet?” “Yes, Mrs. E...”

I says, “as soon as I leave.” “Oh, no,” she says, “he may be gone by then. Please go now.” “All right,” I says, and out the door I went, still wearin’ my Hoover apron. I just went down the hall and stood there a few minutes...  and then I rushed back to the door and knocked on it as hard and  frantic as I could. She flung open the door sayin’, “What’s the  matter? Did you see the super?”... “No,” I says, gaspin’ hard for breath, “I was almost downstairs when I remembered... I  left my pocketbook!”

With that I dashed in, grabbed my purse and then went down  to get the super! Later, when I was leavin’ she says real timid-like,

“Mildred, I hope that you don’t think I distrust you because...”

I cut her off real quick... . “That’s all right, Mrs. E..., I  understand. ’Cause if I paid anybody as little as you pay me, I’d hold my pocketbook too!”

Marge, you fool... lookout!... You gonna drop the beans to the floor!