Story.This creative fiction piece is modeled after the opening scene of Their Eyes Were Watching God, wherein Janie returns to town and folks on their porches talk about her judgmentally as she passes. Though the most significant portion of the scene is where Pheoby, Janie's best friend, sticks up for her among the onlookers, I opted to write a scene that occurs before that one chronologically. In this story, a white couple talks about Janie as she approaches and interacts with her briefly as she passes. The story is an oral one, like Janie's narrative, told from the perspective of a male townie, with the intention of representing "the other side" in the divide between Janie, the outsider, and the townspeople. I wrote the story by relying heavily on textual evidence to characterize Janie and the types of white folks that might inhabit their town, as well as on my own experiences growing up in a rural southern town in North Carolina.
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GENRE 5: At least one piece that allows you to depict a situation or character interaction that takes into account the "other side of the issue" (e.g. status quo overturned, opposing viewpoint); possible genres include surrealist paintings, journals, editorials, letters to the editor, Venn diagrams, political cartoons, or works of science fiction, fantasy, or drama (Multiple Intelligences: Interpersonal).
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July 28, 1934: Jim Woods chats at Severson Mill Co. with a co-worker on his lunch break around midday. The night before, Jim and his Wife had talked to Janie, and the town was in fits over her return, gossiping all morning. Jim tells his friend, Chuck, about the encounter:
“For all that is good up in heaven…” Susannah started, her hand hanging lightly over her mouth. She was hangin’ up laundry and had stopped without a warning, absentmindedly flinging the last cotton shirt over her shoulder when she saw a small dark blur in the distance.
“What?” I yipped, ready for our evening coffee. We spend a lot of time sittin’ around on the front porch these days, since Susanna had give up the job up at the store. It was just my money rollin’ in from the mill (yeah, right) and the little bit that pawpaw had left when he passed that keeps us goin'. Susannah usually takes good care of me after dinner but she’s always bein’ distracted by something stupid outside.
“It’s Janie Crawford. Back from God knows where.” She turned at looked at me, shaking her head.
“That little Negro girl?” I asked. I looked where she had been looking and saw a middle-aged black woman in dirty overalls walking our way, her stringy black hair swishing back and forth ‘hind her back. She, ‘course, is about the same age as me but she acted damn near like a child when she was livin’ in this town, so I kin call her a girl.
Janie was gettin’ closer, so Susannah started talkin' a little bit quieter. “Where’s Tea Cake?” She scrunched up her nose real good and sighed. “You know he was a nut, but Janie done gone whoring around near the coast and left him behind. Poor ‘ole nut.”
I laughed. Tea Cake sure was a crazy nigger. He was a gambler and had asked us and some of our cousins for money a couple of times. Always takin’ from the white folk. And the white folk knows too. You know we keep tabs on ‘em.
“He was a lot younger than her too,” I added, shaking my head. First of all, women weren’t something you could count on and you add the black and it gets even worse. “How many times she been married since we known her?”
“Jim, hush up, she’s comin’ this way.” Susannah acted like she’d been doing laundry the whole damned time and ran inside to finally get the coffee, leaving me alone as Janie neared the porch. There was enough space between me and the road to not have to have a full-on conversation, but I had to say something else it’d be awkward.
“Evenin’, Janie!” I hollered. “It’s been a while, huh sweetheart?’ She smiled real sly and nodded, not saying anything. All of a sudden Susannah slides through the door like she ain’t been out here watching Janie for five minutes and says real fake-like, “Janie Mae! Ain’t it been forever!” She started to say something else, which I know was about Tea Cake, but she stopped mid-breath and we just watched Janie walking slowly, not saying a word, till she disappeared up the road toward Niggertown.
Susannah looked at me and shrugged and we didn’t really say nothin’ else all night.
“For all that is good up in heaven…” Susannah started, her hand hanging lightly over her mouth. She was hangin’ up laundry and had stopped without a warning, absentmindedly flinging the last cotton shirt over her shoulder when she saw a small dark blur in the distance.
“What?” I yipped, ready for our evening coffee. We spend a lot of time sittin’ around on the front porch these days, since Susanna had give up the job up at the store. It was just my money rollin’ in from the mill (yeah, right) and the little bit that pawpaw had left when he passed that keeps us goin'. Susannah usually takes good care of me after dinner but she’s always bein’ distracted by something stupid outside.
“It’s Janie Crawford. Back from God knows where.” She turned at looked at me, shaking her head.
“That little Negro girl?” I asked. I looked where she had been looking and saw a middle-aged black woman in dirty overalls walking our way, her stringy black hair swishing back and forth ‘hind her back. She, ‘course, is about the same age as me but she acted damn near like a child when she was livin’ in this town, so I kin call her a girl.
Janie was gettin’ closer, so Susannah started talkin' a little bit quieter. “Where’s Tea Cake?” She scrunched up her nose real good and sighed. “You know he was a nut, but Janie done gone whoring around near the coast and left him behind. Poor ‘ole nut.”
I laughed. Tea Cake sure was a crazy nigger. He was a gambler and had asked us and some of our cousins for money a couple of times. Always takin’ from the white folk. And the white folk knows too. You know we keep tabs on ‘em.
“He was a lot younger than her too,” I added, shaking my head. First of all, women weren’t something you could count on and you add the black and it gets even worse. “How many times she been married since we known her?”
“Jim, hush up, she’s comin’ this way.” Susannah acted like she’d been doing laundry the whole damned time and ran inside to finally get the coffee, leaving me alone as Janie neared the porch. There was enough space between me and the road to not have to have a full-on conversation, but I had to say something else it’d be awkward.
“Evenin’, Janie!” I hollered. “It’s been a while, huh sweetheart?’ She smiled real sly and nodded, not saying anything. All of a sudden Susannah slides through the door like she ain’t been out here watching Janie for five minutes and says real fake-like, “Janie Mae! Ain’t it been forever!” She started to say something else, which I know was about Tea Cake, but she stopped mid-breath and we just watched Janie walking slowly, not saying a word, till she disappeared up the road toward Niggertown.
Susannah looked at me and shrugged and we didn’t really say nothin’ else all night.