Chapter 38 Dessi
THIRTY-EIGHT
Dessi
Camera zooms in from wide shot of a bustling New York City street, and a modest redbrick building, to a close-up of the awning above the club door that reads
CAFé SOCIETY.
A doorman wearing a tattered top hat and gloves with no fingertips ushers Dessi, Cal, and Tilda inside.
They sit at one of the small tables covered in a simple white tablecloth near the middle of the crowded club.
The walls are muraled with caricatures of everything from celebrities, to poodles and images of life in New York.
A large piano is set in the center of the room.
DESSI
You really think she’ll be here?
CAL
She’s supposed to be. That’s what I heard.
TILDA (LOOKING AROUND AT THE CROWD, EYEING THE GROUP OF WHITE PEOPLE AT THE NEIGHBORING TABLE)
If this ain’t something else. White folks sitting with Negroes. Close enough to touch.
CAL
This is the first desegregated nightclub in the country.
DESSI
Can’t believe I’m seeing it.
CAL
Wait’ll we get to Europe.
DESSI
Who woulda thunk, huh? Me singing in Paris? And London? And all them places? Mama near ’bout fell over when I told her. I can’t believe it.
Tilda rolls her eyes.
CAL
Well, you better believe it. We’re leaving soon! And you’re the main attraction.
TILDA
Where’s the booze in this place? I need a drink.
DESSI
Not just me. The whole band. I ain’t never been out the country. Have you, Tilda?
TILDA
No, and I don’t need to. New York got everything I want.
CAL
Wouldn’t you like to go someplace where Negroes are treated with a little respect? Look at Josephine Baker, making more money than God over there in Paris. They say she rides through the streets wearing furs and diamonds.
DESSI
You think we’ll get to see her?
CAL
I’ll make sure you do, Dessi.
Tilda watches the trumpet player and Dessi, a scowl on her face as she lights up a cigarette.
CAL
And what would you say if I told you next week, we’ll be up on that stage?
DESSI (WIDE EYES)
What stage? Who?
CAL
Us—you, me, and the boys. They booked us to play here at Café Society next week. Wanted to surprise you!
Dessi stands and throws her arms around Cal’s neck.
DESSI (PULLING BACK TO LOOK IN HIS FACE)
I don’t even know what to say.
TILDA (SOURLY AS THE LIGHTS BEGIN LOWERING)
I say sit down ’cause the show ’bout to start.
A white man in a suit steps to the center beside the piano.
MAN
I know many of you came here hoping to hear Billie Holiday, but she won’t be joining us tonight.
A collective hum of disappointment rolls through the crowd. Some even stand as if to leave.
MAN (WAVING PEOPLE BACK DOWN TO THEIR SEATS)
Now wait a minute. Hold on. Hold on. We don’t have Lady tonight, but we do have someone she hand-selected to take her place. The musical sensation, the piano prodigy, Miss Hazel Scott!
A young golden-brown woman walks into the light. Garbed in a long, elegant dress, hair pinned up, makeup immaculate, she paints a picture of youth and elegance.
HAZEL
Good evening, everybody. I’m Hazel Scott.
Hazel takes her seat at the piano and plays her signature style of jazzing up the classics.
Enraptured, the audience applauds loudly when she’s done, surprised and wildly impressed by such sophistication and talent in one so young.
Cal and Dessi gush about the young pianist as they leave the club, but Tilda is uncharacteristically quiet even once they board the subway headed back to Harlem.
They come out on the street and stand in a small circle to discuss where they go next.
CAL
Let’s hit Minton’s.
TILDA
Minton’s? What’s there?
CAL
Young cat named Charlie Parker gon’ be jamming there tonight.
He just moved here from Kansas City. Works over at Jimmy’s Chicken Shack washing dishes, but, boy, can he blow that horn.
Buddy, our sax player, he on that stuff, and I don’t think he gon’ make it to Europe.
I’m looking for somebody new I can depend on.
TILDA (YAWNS)
Well, y’all might be gallivanting off to Europe, but I still got a job to do right here in the city. My shift at the Savoy tomorrow night will have me out till two in the morning. I’m going home to sleep. You coming, Dessi?
DESSI (LOOKS FROM CAL TO TILDA, HER EXPRESSION TORN)
I’ll come next time, Cal. You go on without me. We leave soon for Europe and Tilda will be here all by herself.
CAL (LOOKING DISAPPOINTED, BUT COVERING IT UP QUICKLY)
I’ll make sure to grab a program for you. I know you like collecting those.
Cal nods to the Café Society program she holds with Billie Holiday’s name scratched out and replaced with Hazel Scott’s.
DESSI (THREADS HER ARM THROUGH TILDA’S AND SMILES)
That’s mighty nice of you. Yeah, I’ll add it to my collection. Night, Cal.
Dessi and Tilda head in the opposite direction, back toward their apartment.
TILDA
You didn’t have to do that. I know you wanted to go hear the band.
DESSI
I meant what I said. I’ll be gone to Europe soon, and I need all the time I can get with my girl.
Dessi leans over to peck Tilda, dangerously close to her mouth.
TILDA (LOOKING AROUND TO MAKE SURE NO ONE SAW)
You getting mighty bold with it, ain’t ya? You can’t be kissing me out in the open like that, Bama.
DESSI (WITH A WICKED GRIN)
Well, if I can’t kiss out in the open, I need to get you on home.
TILDA (UNEASILY)
You going off to Europe. I’m staying here. We need to be real. This can’t last forever, ya know? What we got going.
DESSI (SMILE FALTERING AND THEN SNAPPING BACK INTO PLACE AS SHE LOOPS HER ARM AROUND TILDA’S WAIST BENEATH HER COAT)
Don’t this feel like forever? You and me?
TILDA (LOOKING SAD, BUT RESIGNED)
Don’t be making promises we know we can’t keep. Not in this lifetime anyway.
DESSI (DISCREETLY CARESSING TILDA’S HAND, CLASPING HER ARM AS THEY WALK HOME)
It’s a promise I’m making with my heart. They might be able to tell Black folks where we can sit and where we can eat. Hell, white folks even tell us where to piss, but nobody can tell you who to love. They can’t make you stop loving somebody, and I ain’t ever gon’ stop loving you, Tilda.
TILDA (SMILING WISTFULLY AND SQUEEZING DESSI’S ARM BACK)
Okay, Miss Forever. Let’s get on home then. I got a present I want to give you.
DESSI
What is it?
TILDA
Let me get you home and you’ll see.
When they arrive at their apartment, Dessi is practically hopping around with anticipation. Tilda laughs, makes her sit on the bed and close her eyes. When Dessi opens them, Tilda presents her with a jewelry box.
DESSI
Tilda! No, you didn’t!
TILDA
I saw it and thought of you right away. Open it.
When Dessi opens the box, a ballerina pops up and dances to the tune “You Made Me Love You (I Didn’t Want to Do It).”
DESSI (BLINKING BACK TEARS)
Oh, it’s beautiful, Tilda.
TILDA
I figure when you off in Paris and London and all them places, you gonna be dripping in jewels. Pearls and sapphires and such. Put ’em all in this jewelry box. Then every time you pull out one of them big ol’ diamonds, you’ll think of me.
DESSI
I love it, but I won’t need diamonds or a jewelry box to remind me of you.
Dessi presses Tilda’s hand to her chest.
DESSI
You’ll be right here with me, in my heart. I could never forget you, and I’ll be back before you know it. Me and you, together again.
Dessi kisses her cheek, and a sad look passes over Tilda’s face, but she forces a smile and nods.
DESSI
You’re my girl and I love you, Tilda.
TILDA (SMILING WITH TEARS IN HER EYES)
Love you, too, Bama.