Tale of the Tossing Dwarves

Chapter 17 – Tale of the Tossing Dwarves

“But I’m guessin’ my man here is out of a job,” said Ten Brawl.

“Look like he on a vacation to me, way he decked out in his leisure wear,” Bison Butt added. “You lookin’ fo’ a sailboat cruise on the rivuh heah, Charlie, you ‘bout 75 years too late. Only thing sail down this heah rivuh is big tubs o’ shit, or maybe a dead dog, or a body part or two, if the water get past yo’ knees.”

“Slummin’ is what it look like to me,” said Tatuh Pie. “Maybe he writin’ a book and lookin’ for a little cullah.”

“He sure get plenty of that starin’ at yo’ black ass,” laughed Bison Butt.

“I’m sure whatever your problem is, mister,” said Ten Brawl in his best imitation of an English gentleman, “it’s a very touching story.”

“Not really,” said Carson. “I’m looking for a friend. His name is Giambone. I thought you fellas might have run into him. The guy in the picture. That’s my story.”

“If that’s yo’ story, you a sorry motherfucker. You need to git yo’self a story. Ain’t that right, gentlemen?”

Bison Butt and Tatuh Pie nodded in tandem.

“Sho is.”

“Hundred percent.”

“So I is gonna git you one so’s you can take it wid you whi’ you lookin’ for this friend o’ yo’s, this man you call Giambone. And when you havin’ difficulty findin’ him, you can think on this story to keep yo’ mind occupied.”

Tossing Dwarves

Ten Brawl commenced his story: Dis here’s de story of Po’ John. Po’ John, who was a dwarf, prayed to de Lawd: “Dear Lawd, I been dancin’ in Ole Massah’s circus for so long now and I got nuttin’ but hard biscuits and cold grits; why can’t I git moh?”

De Lawd answered: “Dats jus’ de way it is, when you born on dis side of de rivuh. If you’s born on de other side of de rivuh, yo’ biscuits be soft, yo’ grits be warm wid buttuh, and ev’ry day you get to eat a sweet ‘n’ juicy baked ham.”

And de angels in Heben sang . . . . (Ten Brawl looked at Bison Butt and Tatuh Pie.)

“And de angels sang,” he repeated.

Bison Butt and Tatuh Pie picked up their cue, “Warm grits wid buttuh and juicy baked ham,” they sang.

“Thank you, angels.”

Ten Brawl continued: Now the next day after the last performance, when the Ole Massah came by de mess hall to feed his troupe of dwarves, Po’ John spoke up and said,

“Ole Massah, why we git nothin’ but hard biscuits and cold grits each and ev’ry day?”

“Cuz you a dwarf, fool,” said the Massah. “And in case you hasn’t noticed, dwarves is one half de size as a reg’lar man. What you need mo’ ‘n I give you to stay alive? It’s enough. Now shut up and eat, fool, ‘for yo’ grits git e’en colder.”

And the angels sang: “Shut up and eat, fool, ‘for yo’ grits git e’en colder.”

Next day the Ole Massah’s wife come up to Po’ John while he was fishin’ in de river. She smiled and winked and said, “Po’ John, de mean Ole Massah done took away my pearls and hid ‘em in dat hole at de base o’ dat tree. Is it true ya’ll dwarves is good at squeezin’ in deep dark holes?”

“Yes’m,” replied Po’ John, “it’s true. We’s good at it.”

“Please be a good dwarf, Po’ John,” she said, battin’ her eyelashes an’ waggin’ her tail, “and go ‘n git me dem pearls in dat deep dark hole.”

And Po’ John obeyed de Ole Massah’s wife and shinnied down dat tight hole and got dem pearls. And de angels in Heben sang, “Shinnied down dat hole and got dem bright, shiny pearls.”

When Po’ John climbed back out de hole, he gave dem pearls to the Ole Massah’s wife. She looked so pleased that Po’ John akst her, “Missus Massah, you sho’ look happy. Has you been talkin’ wid de Lawd?”

“Yes,” she said. “When you’s down dat hole, de Lawd come visit me.”

“What he say to you, Missus Massah?”

“He say, ‘Tell Po’ John keep his mouth closed about de pearls, an’ if’n he can keep his mouth closed, tell him to come back ev’ry week now on to fetch yo’ pearls, and den give him one fo’ his trouble.’”

“Ain’t no trouble, m’am. I’s good at it.”

“You sho’ is,” said the Ole Massah’s wife, and smilin’ big as a daffodil she gived him one o’ dem pearls fo’ his pain and his trouble.

And the angels sang, “Smilin’ big as a daffodil, fo’ his trouble and his pain she gived him a pearl.”

Ev’ry week after dat Po’ John shinnied down dat hole and get de Missus Massah her pearls. And ev’ry week he come out dat hole wet, tired and dirty but he didn’t mind cuz he ‘gan to love dem pearls, too, jus’ like Missus Massah, for they was shiny and round and smooth to the touch, and like nothin’ Po’ John had seen ‘for in his life. And they work a strange magic on him, too. And each week he took dat pearl home and hid it in his mattress til he had so many in de mattress his wife Lily said, “Po John, you gots to do somethin’ wid dem pearls cuz de mattress is lumpy and I can’t git a wink a sleep no mo’. Where you gettin’ all dem pearls anyhow?”

“I stumble upon ‘em in de oak grove, Lilly,” he said, “an’ dey kinda growed on me now. Don’t ya think they’s beautiful?”

“They’s alright,” she said, “but pretty as they is, don’t see what good dey is for ‘cept messin’ up my sleep.”

“Don’t know, Lilly, but they got’s to be good for somethin’. Can’t be nothin’ in de Lawd’s creation that lovely that’s got no useful occupation.”

And de mo’ pearls he got de less Po’ John complaint to de Ole Massah ev’ry day about eatin’ de hard biscuits and cold grits.

“Since when do a dwarf ne’er complain no mo’,” said de Ole Massah one day. “It’s gettin’ too quiet around here. Somethin’ ain’t natural.”

And Po John lied to de Ole Massah and said, “Since I’s right wid de Lawd, Massah, I don’t need to complain.”

But later Po John felt bad inside ‘bout lyin ‘bout de Lawd, so he prayed to Him: “Dear Lawd,” he said, “what am I supposed to do? All I think about is dem pearls. I don’t e’en care no mo’ bout dancin’ all de time for hard biscuits and cold grits.”

And de Lawd replied, “I don’t care no damn way. Dat’s yo’ own damn dwarf business. ‘Sides, what you got ginst pearls anyway? They’s my creation, too!”

And the angels sang: “He don’t care no damn way, cuz dat’s yo’ own damn business, and de pearls his creation, too.”

The next day, after the dwarves’ last song and dance routine, as they was assemblin’ in de mess hall for they usual supper, the Ole Massah rushed into the room. De man was furious, his face redder than a plate o’ raw giblets.

“Some thievin’ dwarf been a shinnyin’ down de holes in the valley o’ my oak grove. If he don’ confess, none o’ yous gonna eat no mo’. You’s gonna dance til you can’t dance no mo. Then I’ll bury ya.”

Not a dwarf in the room spoke up, for Po John had kept his word wid Ole Missus Massah.

“An’ if you still don’t fess up, then I’ll take each y’all one by one and shave the bottoms o’ yo’ feets til y’all is shortah than you already is.”

And the angels in Heben sang, “Shave yo’ feets til y’all’s shortah than ya already is.”

When Po John’s missus heard ‘bout this, she afeard de worst. She said to Po John, “Po John, what you gonna do wid dem pearls anyway? What good’s they fo’? Give dem pearls back to de Ole Massah so’s we can eat and keep on wearin’ our feets. If we can’t wear our feets, then we can’t dance, and if’n we can’t dance we can’t get fed and then what’ll happen to de little chillun?”

“Don’ worry, wife. I don’ know what dem pearls good fo’, but I can’t give ‘em up cuz they’s too shiny and round, like a tiny, perfect circle. I’ll pray on it and e’thing gonna work out.”

And the angels sang, “He’ll pray on it and e’thing gonna work out, gonna work out.”

That night Po’ John went into the theatre when it was empty and he prayed to de Lawd.

“Lawd,” he said, “what am I gonna do wid dem pearls?”

And de Lawd replied, “What? You woke me up for this? Can’t you figuh out nuttin’? I gots bigger worries right now. If it ain’t you dwarves, it’s de midgets, and if it ain’t de midgets, it’s de bearded ladies. I gots my own problems. Work it out yo’self.”

Meanwhile, Po’ John’s missus was too afeard, so she run to the Ole Massah’s tent.

            “What you want, dwarf woman,” he bellowed.

            She looked way up at him and said, “Ole Massah, if you promise not to hurt me and my little chillun, if you promise not to shave our feets, then I can tell you where dem pearls is.”

            The Ole Massah smiled and licked his lips and said, “Why, o’ course, little dwarf woman. Whyn’t you come right ovah heah and take a seat on my lap. Don’t be afeard; you can whisper yo’ secret in my ear, and afterwards I’ll get you a nice meal of soft biscuits, hot grits wid buttuh, and some sweet, juicy ham.”

            And jus’ like he promised, he made her a meal of sweet, juicy ham. It was de best meal Missus Po’ John had ’er et.

            When Po’ John come home that night from the empty theatre he saw his missus was gone. As he went out to look for her he was caught up by Li’l Roy, the Ole Massah’s personal dwarf valet.

            “Ho, there, Po’ John,” said Li’l Roy, “you best git to runnin. The Ole Massah know you done took his pearls and now he’s comin’ to git you.”

            “Lawdy,” said Po’ John. “What I am gonna do?”

            “You better git dem pearls and head to de river so de dawgs don’ pick up yo’ smell.”

            “But I can’t swim,” said Po’ John.

            “You better learn fast,” say Li’l Roy, “cuz the current is quick and de bottom she’s real muddy.”

            And the angels sang, “Cuz the current is quick and de bottom she’s real muddy.”

            Po’ John raced back into de house and took them pearls from de mattress. He filled up his pockets and then run fast as he could toward de river. When he reached de river he stopped. The river was wide and the current quick and Po’ John was afeard to get wet cuz he never learned to swim. Po’ John got down on his knees and he prayed to de Lawd.

            “Dear Lawd, please help me to get to de other side o’ de river. I can’t swim no how.”

            And de Lawd answered, “E’ry time you’s in trouble you call on me to helps you. Why you always callin’ on me fo’?”

            “Cuz I gots faith in you, oh Lawd.”

            “You gots faith in me?’

            “Dat’s right, Lawd.”

            “What has I done to help you befo’, that’s what I wanna know.”

            And Po’ John thought long and hard on this and he tried and tried but he couldn’t think of one time that the Lawd had helped him, so he said, “I don’t remember, Lawd. But I still gots faith in you anyway.”

            “Well,” said de Lawd, “I don’t know where you got it, but I’s sure yo’ faith and a few swimmin’ lessons git you cross de river. Now ‘scuse me while I go and talks to St. Peter; old coot’s been sleepin at the gate and let in all kind o’ Toms, Dicks and Harrys, like dis some kinda roomin’ house.”

             And the angels sang, “Sleepin’ at the gate, let in Toms, Dicks and Harrys.”

            Now Po’ John was in a bad way. He could hear dem hounds a barkin’ an’ pickin’ up his smell, and he couldn’t decide to be caught by de dawgs and de Ole Massah, or to jump in de river and surely drown. T’was roun’ bout then a man in a boat come by, paddlin’ along and mindin’ his own business. Po’ John shout at de man and say, “Hey, mister, can you take me to de other side?”

            “Not for nothin’ I ain’t,” said the old man. “What you got that I want?”

            “I can give you one of these here pearls,” said Po’ John.

            “Gimme three and I’ll keep yo’ feets dry to de other side.”

            “What’s on de other side,” asked Po John as he climbed in to de boat.

            “Dat’s nothin’ but de Dwarf Circus.”

            “But I’s in de Dwarf Circus,” say Po’ John. “Dat’s on dis side here.”

            “Dat’s different,” say the old ferry man. “On dis side all yous do is sing ‘n’ dance. On de other side, dem dwarves fly through de air and other such things.”

            And sho’ enough, jus’ like the old ferry man said, when Po’ John get to de other side he see’d de new dwarf circus, where big burly men was standin’ in two lines. And de big burly men in one line picked up one dwarf after another and lift ‘em up over they heads and throw ‘em up into de air ‘til they come down an’ is caught by de big burly men in de other line. There was beaucoup people who come to watch and drink beer and shout and go crazy each time one o’ those dwarves go flyin’ over they heads, like it was a special gift them dwarves had that make ‘em do that bettah than anyone else. And when de show was over, all de dwarves went to de mess hall where they gots to eat many as soft biscuits they want wid hot grits wid buttah and plates heaped high wid sweet ‘n’ juicy baked ham. And whiles they was eatin’ the Ring Master come ‘round and give each o’ dem dwarves two shiny pearls, an’ he ain’t asked not one o’ dem to go down in no tight dark hole.

            Po’ John was sure that de Lawd had answered his prayers after all and transported him straight to Heben. He knew he never wanted to go back to de other side of de river, and when the Ring Master come by, Po’ John walk up to him and say, “Ring Master, I wanna join yo’ circus and fly through de air from de arms of de big burly men.”

            And de Ring Master reply, “You got any experience, dwarf?”

            “Yessuh, I’s been in de circus on de other side of de river and I can sing and dance like nobody’s business.”

            “Dat circus is my enemy,” say de Ring Master. “They cut into my business cuz they run on de cheap. One day I’s gonna put an end to dat circus. You gonna like it heah mo’. Jus’ don’ be late fo’ work o’ you’s out of a job. Der ain’t no other jobs for dwarves so you best mind yo’self.”

            “Yessuh,” said Po’ John, and before long he was flyin’ through de air wid de other dwarves, tossed back and forth every day all day long by the burly men, while people applauded them all around and marveled at they exceptional dwarf ability. And while it was true dat at first Po’ John thought he was in Heben, ‘ventually he discovered dat it wasn’t no Heben cuz he never saw o’ heard de Lawd anymore, e’en though he’d never done much fo’ him in de past. And while Po’ John warn’t as po’ as he was livin’ on de other side of de river, he sometimes dreamed ‘bout de old ways. Although he hated the Ole Massah’s wife for getting’ him to go down dat slimy dark hole, he did admit he liked de way she smiled when he came back up. And even though he hated de Ole Massah for shavin’ de dwarves feets and feedin’ ‘em cold grits, he did admit it helped pass de time to hate dat man so much, and he missed de way he and de other dwarves used to dream o’ all de ways dat de Ole Massah was gonna suffer when he went down to de hell fire wid ol’ Lucifer. But all dat was gone now cuz he had a taste now for de sweet juicy ham and de pearls on a reg’lar basis, but Po’ John did think on dem olden times now ‘n’ again and then it was that he gived a big sigh.

            And the angels sang, “Then it was he gived a big sigh.”

            “Every time I hear that story,” said Tatuh Pie, “it brings tears to my eyes.”

            “As it should,” said Ten Brawl. “Crossin’ the river is a tragic history, a great lamentation, one our friend here should pay mind,” he said, nodding at Carson.

            “Thank you, sir,” said Carson. “I will try to keep it in mind. I don’t know what the fuck it means,” he laughed, “but I’d pay to see some dwarves tossed through the air. I’m surprised it hasn’t caught on.”

            “Caught on,” Ten Brawl shouted. “Fuck it ain’t. It’s all around you, Jack, ‘f you’d opened up yo’ two fuckin’ eyes!”