Color Bar

"Good evening, sir. I'm looking for my sister. She was due to be waiting for me at this here bar."

"Your sister?" the man asked with a quizzical frown. "Coloured girl, like you? Yeah, she's waiting for you."

Edith smiled broadly. "That's wonderful! I've been looking forward to seeing her for so many months. In fact, ever since I last saw her on Thanksgiving at my parents' farm."

"She'll be mighty pleased to see you too, ma'am."

"So, can I get in to see her then?"

"Well. That ain't real easy now. She's being entertained by some of the guests. We'll just have to wait till they finish their entertaining."

"'Entertaining'? I don't understand."

"You will, ma'am. You will."

And indeed Edith would soon enough. The bar steward assiduously avoided being especially clear of what he meant, and carefully steered the conversation towards the coming and going at the Tylers'. He cussed a little, which Edith did not appreciate, and mysteriously referred to his clientele as the worst kind of scum. "They's mighty fine men when it comes to their business. But their souls. Well. They ain't going to heaven, nohow. It ain't right some times what they do."

Edith had no idea what the bar steward was alluding to. "Why don't you persuade them to behave better, then?"

"Well, that ain't easy, ma'am. They don't sees me as a real person. They's don't see no nigger as a real person. And if they's do anything, they's nothing I could do to stop them. Not even going to the law. That Constable Aaron. He's a mighty mean son of a bitch when it comes to niggers keeping to the law, but he ain't so particular when it comes to white folks."

Eventually, the door to the bar opened and a series of men filed out, straightening their ties and straightening their hats. After the last man left, the bar steward put his head through the door. "It's a real quiet place now, ma'am. I knew they'd be no custom after the entertaining. That's always the way. Leave the tidying up to us coloured folks."

And the 'tidying up' as Edith discovered, related to her poor sister Tizzy. The girl lay on the ground, drool and saliva slipping out of the side of a face slumped onto the ground, her bare legs still wide open and her bosom uncovered. Edith burst into tears. Almost suddenly and without thought. Her hands pushed against her mouth as she looked in concern and anxiety at her sister, who was breathing heavily and loudly. And, yes, there were a few blotches of red on her stockings and petticoat that proved her virtue thus far. But, as Edith prayed to the Lord in her moment of need, she could see that ahead of her, and of course for Tizzy, that the nightmare had not just finished. In truth, it had only just begun.