Chapter VI: Love Lessons

“You do de talkin’ fer me, Skeeter,” Tick begged as they entered Ginny Babe Chew’s yard. “I ain’t never got into no mess like dis befo’, an’ I cain’t tongue it out as free as you kin.”

“Dar she am,” Skeeter exclaimed, as he pointed to a young colored woman sitting on a bench under a pecan tree at the side of the house. “Come on!”

Dazzle Zenor was certainly the sort of woman a colored man would naturally select to teach him the art of love. She was slim and graceful, neat as a new pin and beautifully dressed; she had fine Moorish features, and smiled with beautiful teeth and did flattering things with her eyes, for Dazzle was a real actress.

“Dis here cullud gen’leman is got de love-bug, Dazzle,” Skeeter explained. “He wants to cote a gal so dat he kin marry her real prompt, an’ he don’t know how it is did. I tole him you wus a female actor an’ you could teach him how to love wid one lesson.”

Then Skeeter executed an elaborate wink.

“How much kin you pay?” Dazzle asked, looking at Tick.

“How much do it cost?” Tick asked cautiously.

“How many money is you got?” Dazzle inquired.

Tick handed her a five-dollar bill.

“Dat’s a plenty,” Dazzle laughed as she folded the bill and slipped it into the palm of her kid glove. Then she looked Tick over as if he were a horse she was thinking of buying. After a while she asked:

“Whut does you know about makin’ love to a woman, Tick?”

“Nothin’,” Tick answered modestly.

“Ain’t you never kissed no womens?” Dazzle asked incredulously.

“Yes’m.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Dey batted me over de head wid de fust thing whut come handy. De las’ one broke a puffeckly good settin’-chair on my noodle.”

“Ain’t you never hugged no womens?” Dazzle asked.

“I can’t perzackly call it huggin’,” Tick explained. “Quick as I grab ’em, dey squall an’ fight an’ ack like dey wus ag’in it.”

Dazzle turned to Skeeter with an amazed question:

“Did you ever see de beat?”

Skeeter was evidently stricken dumb before such complete inexperience and such colossal ignorance.

Tick wadded his hat into a tight ball and waited while Dazzle thought out a course of instruction.

“All right, Ticky,” she said, at last. “I’ll set here on dis bench an’ you come a-courtin’ me. Do de very best you knows how, an’ Skeeter kin stan’ off on one side an’ suggest improvements on de lesson.”

Dazzle sat down and waited.

Tick fumbled with his hat, and breathed like a choking horse.

Skeeter stood like a motion-picture director looking at the actors in this drama of love.

“Git busy!” Skeeter howled.

“Whu--whut muss I do fust?” Tick growled.

“Kiss her--kiss her!” Skeeter ordered.

Tick sat down beside Dazzle, and started to kiss her. Then he backed away, and took up his position at the far end of the bench, looking at her with extreme embarrassment.

“Aw, shuckins!” Skeeter howled. “You kissed at dat purdy gal like a sick sheep lickin’ salt! Don’t be skeart you’ll git too much--she ain’t p’ison--git yo’ five dollar’s wuth!”

Tick Hush “sulled.”

“I ain’t gwine take no mo’ lesson,” he declared. “You-all is jes’ prankin’ wid me. I wants my five dollars back.”

“Nothin’ doin’, Ticky,” Dazzle laughed. “I ain’t gwine git in de habit of givin’ money back--it’s too expensive. Bless Gawd, I ain’t never gib none back yit. Come on wid yo’ lessons!”

“I’s jes’ losin’ time an’ money monkeyin’ wid you-alls,” Tick growled. “You niggers is flimflamuxed me.”

“Naw!” Skeeter howled. “You’ll git yo’ money’s wuth. Lemme take yo’ place an’ show you how it is did!”

“You needn’t apply, Skeeter,” Dazzle grinned. “I’s givin’ dese here lessons. I’ll let Tick set on de bench an’ I’ll show him how it oughter be did. Set down, Tick!”

Tick sat down on the bench with about as much eagerness as a condemned man takes his seat in the electric chair. And he waited for what was to happen with about the same feeling that a man awaits the electric shock.

“Here’s de way to do de kissin’ ack,” Dazzle exclaimed in her best stage voice.

She swept forward in her best stage manner and threw her eager arms around--empty air.

Tick bolted.

Skeeter Butts grabbed a tree, laid his head back between his shoulder blades, opened his mouth to its fullest extent, and laughed like a fool.

Tick got a Cherokee rosebush between himself and the histrionic beauty and took a lesson in watchful waiting.

“Ketch him, Dazzle,” Skeeter screamed. “Ketch him--O my Lawd!”

His voice trailed off in demoniacal whoops of laughter like a wind-broken calliope, and Dazzle sat down with an astonishment which left her perfectly helpless.

In all her earthly career, she had never before found a man who bolted when she wanted to kiss him!

With a decisive gesture, she removed the five-dollar bill from the palm of her glove, and stood up, facing Tick Hush.

“Come here, Tick, an’ git dis money!” she commanded.

“No’m,” Tick chattered. “I wouldn’t come even fer five dollars!”

“Come on! I won’t kiss you--I jes’ want to han’ dis change back--honest!” Dazzle urged.

“Hang it on de rose bush an’ git back about fawty feet!” Tick commanded. “I ain’t trustin’ nobody no more!”

Dazzle solemnly laid the bill upon a branch of the rose, piercing it with a thorn so that it would not fall to the ground.

“Tick,” she said in a serious tone, “my advices to you is dis: You buy a real nice present fer dat gal of your’n wid dis money. Gib it to her an’ tell her you wants to marry her, den ax her paw to throw you down an hawg-tie you ontil she kin git her fust engagement kiss. Good-by!”

Dazzle Zenor turned away from the two men, went straight to her room, and sat down before a mirror. For half an hour, she studied every feature of her face with critical inspection. But her silent inquiry was in vain. To the end of her life, she wondered why Tick had bolted when she had tried to kiss him!

As for Tick, he edged around the rosebush until he got within reaching distance of that five-dollar bill. He grabbed it and ran down the street as if he were chased by a dozen pretty women desirous of presenting him with an affectionate osculation.

Skeeter’s maniacal laughter subsided to a hysterical giggle, as he watched Tick’s precipitous flight.

“Dar now!” he snickered. “De kisser’s gone an’ pulled his freight to kiss her on some later date!”

Then Skeeter sat down on the bench where Tick had received his first and last lesson in the art of love, and smoked one cigarette after another, sighing frequently and thinking hard. He decided that Tick had lost the opportunity of a lifetime to be kissed by the prettiest woman in the world, one who knew how to do it. Skeeter wished that he had had Tick’s chance.

“Shuckins!” he said in deep disgust. “A nigger like Tick don’t never know whut’s good fer him!”