She was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but hammer
and nails. It had a long strap, and she carried it slung across her shoulder. It was
about eleven o’clock at night, and she was walking alone, when a boy ran up
behind her and tried to snatch her purse. The strap broke with the single tug the
boy gave it from behind. But the boy’s weight and the weight of the purse
combined caused him to lose his balance so, instead of taking off full blast as he
had hoped, the boy fell on his back on the sidewalk, and his legs flew up. The
large woman simply turned around and kicked him right square in his blue-jeaned
sitter. Then she reached down, picked the boy up by his shirt front, and shook
him until his teeth rattled.
How do seemingly minor descriptive words create character? Consider the following words: “hammer and nails,” “slung,” “eleven o’clock,” “alone,” “simply,” “right square,” “rattled.”
After that the woman said, "Pick up my pocketbook, boy, and give it here." She
still held him. But she bent down enough to permit him to stoop and pick up her
purse. Then she said, "Now ain’t you ashamed of yourself?"
Firmly gripped by his shirt front, the boy said, "Yes’m."
The woman said, "What did you want to do it for?"
The boy said, "I didn’t aim to."
She said, "You a lie!"
The woman is speaking in dialect when she states, “You a lie!” But can that phrase be interpreted as it reads?
By that time two or three people passed, stopped, turned to look, and some
stood watching.
"If I turn you loose, will you run?" asked the woman.
"Yes’m," said the boy.
Why does he answer her honestly? Would you?
"Then I won’t turn you loose," said the woman. She did not release him.
"I’m very sorry, lady, I’m sorry," whispered the boy.
"Um-hum! And your face is dirty. I got a great mind to wash your face for you.
"Ain’t you got nobody home to tell you to wash your face?"
"No’m," said the boy.
"Then it will get washed this evening," said the large woman starting up the
street, dragging the frightened boy behind her.
He looked as if he were fourteen or fifteen, frail and willow-wild, in tennis shoes
and blue jeans.
What does the word “willow-wild” mean?
The woman said, "You ought to be my son. I would teach you right from wrong.
Least I can do right now is to wash your face. Are you hungry?"
"No’m," said the being dragged boy. "I just want you to turn me loose."
"Was I bothering you when I turned that corner?" asked the woman.
"No’m."
"But you put yourself in contact with me," said the woman. "If you think that that
contact is not going to last awhile, you got another though coming. When I get
through with you, sir, you are going to remember Mrs. Luella Bates Washington
Jones."
Why does the writer chose that particular name?
Sweat popped out on the boy’s face and he began to struggle. Mrs. Jones
stopped, jerked him around in front of her, put a half-nelson about his neck, and
continued to drag him up the street. When she got to her door, she dragged the
boy inside, down a hall, and into a large kitchenette-furnished room at the rear of
the house. She switched on the light and left the door open. The boy could hear
other roomers laughing and talking in the large house. Some of their doors were
open, too, so he knew he and the woman were not alone. The woman still had
him by the neck in the middle of her room.
She said, "What is your name?"
"Roger," answered the boy.
"Then, Roger, you go to that sink and wash your face," said the woman,
whereupon she turned him loose--at last. Roger looked at the door—looked at
the woman—looked at the door—and went to the sink.
What is going through his mind? His decision is italicized by the writer. Why?
Let the water run until it gets warm," she said. "Here’s a clean towel."
"You gonna take me to jail?" asked the boy, bending over the sink.
"Not with that face, I would not take you nowhere," said the woman. "Here I am
trying to get home to cook me a bite to eat and you snatch my pocketbook!
Maybe, you ain’t been to your supper either, late as it be. Have you?"
"There’s nobody home at my house," said the boy.
"Then we’ll eat," said the woman, "I believe you’re hungry—or been hungry—to
try to snatch my pocketbook."
Why does Mrs. Jones think Roger has snatched her purse? Would you assume that a boy was stealing because he was hungry?
"I wanted a pair of blue suede shoes," said the boy.
"Well, you didn’t have to snatch my pocketbook to get some suede shoes," said
Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. "You could of asked me."
"M’am?"
The water dripping from his face, the boy looked at her. There was a long pause.
A very long pause. After he had dried his face and not knowing what else to do
dried it again, the boy turned around, wondering what next. The door was open.
He could make a dash for it down the hall. He could run, run, run, run, run!
Again, the italics. What are they supposed to mean?
The woman was sitting on the day-bed. After a while she said, "I were young
once and I wanted things I could not get."
There was another long pause. The boy’s mouth opened. Then he frowned, but
not knowing he frowned.
The woman said, "Um-hum! You thought I was going to say but, didn’t you? You
thought I was going to say, but I didn’t snatch people’s pocketbooks. Well, I
wasn’t going to say that." Pause. Silence. "I have done things, too, which I would
not tell you, son—neither tell God, if he didn’t already know. So you set down
while I fix us something to eat. You might run that comb through your hair so you
will look presentable."
Why is Mrs. Jones so concerned about the boy’s physical appearance?
In another corner of the room behind a screen was a gas plate and an icebox.
Mrs. Jones got up and went behind the screen. The woman did not watch the
boy to see if he was going to run now, nor did she watch her purse which she left
behind her on the day-bed. But the boy took care to sit on the far side of the
room where he thought she could easily see him out of the corner other eye, if
she wanted to. He did not trust the woman not to trust him. And he did not want
to be mistrusted now.
What do these last two sentences mean?
"Do you need somebody to go to the store," asked the boy, "maybe to get some
milk or something?"
"Don’t believe I do," said the woman, "unless you just want sweet milk yourself. I
was going to make cocoa out of this canned milk I got here."
"That will be fine," said the boy.
She heated some lima beans and ham she had in the icebox, made the cocoa,
and set the table. The woman did not ask the boy anything about where he lived,
or his folks, or anything else that would embarrass him. Instead, as they ate, she
told him about her job in a hotel beauty-shop that stayed open late, what the
work was like, and how all kinds of women came in and out, blondes, red-heads,
and Spanish. Then she cut him a half of her ten-cent cake.
How does the woman instinctively know what the boy needs or wants to hear?
"Eat some more, son," she said.
When they were finished eating she got up and said, "Now, here, take this ten
dollars and buy yourself some blue suede shoes. And next time, do not make the
mistake of latching onto my pocketbook nor nobody else’s—because shoes
come by devilish like that will burn your feet. I got to get my rest now. But I wish
you would behave yourself, son, from here on in."
Why does the woman give him the money?
She led him down the hall to the front door and opened it. "Goodnight!" Be have
yourself, boy!" she said, looking out into the street.
The boy wanted to say something else other that "Thank you, ma’am" to Mrs.
Luella Bates Washington Jones, but he couldn’t do so as he turned at the barren
stoop and looked back at the large woman in the door. He barely managed to
say "Thank you" before she shut the door. And he never saw her again.
Why does the writer describe the stoop as barren?
Do you know of anyone like Mrs. Jones who has decided to overlook your flaws and see the best in you? How did that make you feel? Did it change your feelings or behavior?
She was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but hammer
and nails. It had a long strap, and she carried it slung across her shoulder. It was
about eleven o’clock at night, and she was walking alone, when a boy ran up
behind her and tried to snatch her purse. The strap broke with the single tug the
boy gave it from behind. But the boy’s weight and the weight of the purse
combined caused him to lose his balance so, instead of taking off full blast as he
had hoped, the boy fell on his back on the sidewalk, and his legs flew up. The
large woman simply turned around and kicked him right square in his blue-jeaned
sitter. Then she reached down, picked the boy up by his shirt front, and shook
him until his teeth rattled.
How do seemingly minor descriptive words create character? Consider the following words: “hammer and nails,” “slung,” “eleven o’clock,” “alone,” “simply,” “right square,” “rattled.”
After that the woman said, "Pick up my pocketbook, boy, and give it here." She
still held him. But she bent down enough to permit him to stoop and pick up her
purse. Then she said, "Now ain’t you ashamed of yourself?"
Firmly gripped by his shirt front, the boy said, "Yes’m."
The woman said, "What did you want to do it for?"
The boy said, "I didn’t aim to."
She said, "You a lie!"
The woman is speaking in dialect when she states, “You a lie!” But can that phrase be interpreted as it reads?
By that time two or three people passed, stopped, turned to look, and some
stood watching.
"If I turn you loose, will you run?" asked the woman.
"Yes’m," said the boy.
Why does he answer her honestly? Would you?
"Then I won’t turn you loose," said the woman. She did not release him.
"I’m very sorry, lady, I’m sorry," whispered the boy.
"Um-hum! And your face is dirty. I got a great mind to wash your face for you.
"Ain’t you got nobody home to tell you to wash your face?"
"No’m," said the boy.
"Then it will get washed this evening," said the large woman starting up the
street, dragging the frightened boy behind her.
He looked as if he were fourteen or fifteen, frail and willow-wild, in tennis shoes
and blue jeans.
What does the word “willow-wild” mean?
The woman said, "You ought to be my son. I would teach you right from wrong.
Least I can do right now is to wash your face. Are you hungry?"
"No’m," said the being dragged boy. "I just want you to turn me loose."
"Was I bothering you when I turned that corner?" asked the woman.
"No’m."
"But you put yourself in contact with me," said the woman. "If you think that that
contact is not going to last awhile, you got another though coming. When I get
through with you, sir, you are going to remember Mrs. Luella Bates Washington
Jones."
Why does the writer chose that particular name?
Sweat popped out on the boy’s face and he began to struggle. Mrs. Jones
stopped, jerked him around in front of her, put a half-nelson about his neck, and
continued to drag him up the street. When she got to her door, she dragged the
boy inside, down a hall, and into a large kitchenette-furnished room at the rear of
the house. She switched on the light and left the door open. The boy could hear
other roomers laughing and talking in the large house. Some of their doors were
open, too, so he knew he and the woman were not alone. The woman still had
him by the neck in the middle of her room.
She said, "What is your name?"
"Roger," answered the boy.
"Then, Roger, you go to that sink and wash your face," said the woman,
whereupon she turned him loose--at last. Roger looked at the door—looked at
the woman—looked at the door—and went to the sink.
What is going through his mind? His decision is italicized by the writer. Why?
Let the water run until it gets warm," she said. "Here’s a clean towel."
"You gonna take me to jail?" asked the boy, bending over the sink.
"Not with that face, I would not take you nowhere," said the woman. "Here I am
trying to get home to cook me a bite to eat and you snatch my pocketbook!
Maybe, you ain’t been to your supper either, late as it be. Have you?"
"There’s nobody home at my house," said the boy.
"Then we’ll eat," said the woman, "I believe you’re hungry—or been hungry—to
try to snatch my pocketbook."
Why does Mrs. Jones think Roger has snatched her purse? Would you assume that a boy was stealing because he was hungry?
"I wanted a pair of blue suede shoes," said the boy.
"Well, you didn’t have to snatch my pocketbook to get some suede shoes," said
Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. "You could of asked me."
"M’am?"
The water dripping from his face, the boy looked at her. There was a long pause.
A very long pause. After he had dried his face and not knowing what else to do
dried it again, the boy turned around, wondering what next. The door was open.
He could make a dash for it down the hall. He could run, run, run, run, run!
Again, the italics. What are they supposed to mean?
The woman was sitting on the day-bed. After a while she said, "I were young
once and I wanted things I could not get."
There was another long pause. The boy’s mouth opened. Then he frowned, but
not knowing he frowned.
The woman said, "Um-hum! You thought I was going to say but, didn’t you? You
thought I was going to say, but I didn’t snatch people’s pocketbooks. Well, I
wasn’t going to say that." Pause. Silence. "I have done things, too, which I would
not tell you, son—neither tell God, if he didn’t already know. So you set down
while I fix us something to eat. You might run that comb through your hair so you
will look presentable."
Why is Mrs. Jones so concerned about the boy’s physical appearance?
In another corner of the room behind a screen was a gas plate and an icebox.
Mrs. Jones got up and went behind the screen. The woman did not watch the
boy to see if he was going to run now, nor did she watch her purse which she left
behind her on the day-bed. But the boy took care to sit on the far side of the
room where he thought she could easily see him out of the corner other eye, if
she wanted to. He did not trust the woman not to trust him. And he did not want
to be mistrusted now.
What do these last two sentences mean?
"Do you need somebody to go to the store," asked the boy, "maybe to get some
milk or something?"
"Don’t believe I do," said the woman, "unless you just want sweet milk yourself. I
was going to make cocoa out of this canned milk I got here."
"That will be fine," said the boy.
She heated some lima beans and ham she had in the icebox, made the cocoa,
and set the table. The woman did not ask the boy anything about where he lived,
or his folks, or anything else that would embarrass him. Instead, as they ate, she
told him about her job in a hotel beauty-shop that stayed open late, what the
work was like, and how all kinds of women came in and out, blondes, red-heads,
and Spanish. Then she cut him a half of her ten-cent cake.
How does the woman instinctively know what the boy needs or wants to hear?
"Eat some more, son," she said.
When they were finished eating she got up and said, "Now, here, take this ten
dollars and buy yourself some blue suede shoes. And next time, do not make the
mistake of latching onto my pocketbook nor nobody else’s—because shoes
come by devilish like that will burn your feet. I got to get my rest now. But I wish
you would behave yourself, son, from here on in."
Why does the woman give him the money?
She led him down the hall to the front door and opened it. "Goodnight!" Be have
yourself, boy!" she said, looking out into the street.
The boy wanted to say something else other that "Thank you, ma’am" to Mrs.
Luella Bates Washington Jones, but he couldn’t do so as he turned at the barren
stoop and looked back at the large woman in the door. He barely managed to
say "Thank you" before she shut the door. And he never saw her again.
Why does the writer describe the stoop as barren?
Do you know of anyone like Mrs. Jones who has decided to overlook your flaws and see the best in you? How did that make you feel? Did it change your feelings or behavior?