ENPages
January 3, 1939 FL-24-B Adelpha Pollato (Cuban) 2315 12th Avenue Ybor City Tampa, Florida (Cigar maker) Stetson Kennedy, writer (Written off-time)
ALL HE'S LIVING FOR (ENRIQUE AND AMANDA)
Amanda's house is several blocks east of the cigar factory, on a narrow dirt alley lined with unpainted frame shacks. A group of children playing marbles in the sand includes blondes, dark Latins, and Negroes. They scatter like a flock of chickens when they see our car approaching. As soon as the car stops they gather around it, climb upon front and rear bumpers, and the running boards. Dark, stout, and smiling, Amanda shouts to the children and comes out to greet us. She hugs my wife Edith, and shakes my hand.
"I been wanting to meet your husband a long time," she tells Edith.
We enter the front room and sit in three rickety straight chairs. The other furnishings are a table, a new automatic-tuning radio, two calendars.
"You'll have to forgive our humble house," says Amanda apologetically. "I only pay three dollars a week for it, but it's near Enrique's job. They're planning to tear down a lot of these old 'shotgun' shacks. --You know, these old houses are called one- or two-barrelled shotgun shacks, according to how many apartments they have. I heard they are going to build big new apartments for Negroes, and make them move into one section and not be scattered all over like they are now. I don't know as all of them will want to move,
1194
-2-
but I guess the city will condemn their property if they don't.
"My husband Enrique made us a lot of furniture out of boxes and things; he made benches, table, cabinet, and ice box. He made the ice box out of tin; it keeps ice good, too. Enrique is good like that; he saves us a lot of money. He makes wicks out of old carpet for the oil stove, and makes vinegar and wine with raisins.
"Some people buy pretty things and get in debt when they can't afford it and maybe the company takes it away from them and then they lose all that money. There's nothing I hate worse than to have collector men coming to my house all the time bothering the life out of me and keeping me broke. I rather buy good healthy food for my kids and a few little clothes for them to go to school; it don't make so much difference about the furniture. I think it's best to save and keep a little money ahead in case there is sickness or anything like that. It don't look like we are able to get much ahead, though."
Several children gather in the doorway, staring, and a small boy bobs his blonde head in and out of the door leading to a bedroom.
"Them's all my kids," Amanda says, "and they sure looks like tramps. There is no use for me to wash them in the afternoon when they come home from school because by night they have got all dirty again. I just leave them alone till night and wash them good before they go to bed.
"Besides these four kids here I got two more girls living with
1195
-3-
my cousin in Key West. She can take better oare of them there; she ain't got no kids of her own. That blonde-headed rascal that keeps poking his head around the door is named Jose; he's five years old, and the other boy, Perico, is eight. Maria is nine, and Rosa--she's my oldest--is thirteen."
Rosa says "How do you do?" She is small, thin, seemingly undernourished. Her delicately pretty face is unadorned by cosmetics, her cheap cotton dress torn in many places, revealing pink underclothing. Only her intelligent brown eyes are mature and interesting; they seem out of place in the child-like body.
"You know what?" asks Amanda. "Rosa, thirteen years old, is getting ready to get married. I wish I knew how to knock that idea out of her head."
"The sooner I get married and get away from here, the better," smiles Rosa.
"He's an Italian," says Amanda, "and I don't want no Italian son-in-law in the family."
"Well, you might as well get used to it," says Rosa. "I love Nicky and I'm going to marry him, no matter what anybody says. He's a very nice Italian. He has a mustache, dark hair, and tall."
"He's got blue eyes," adds Amanda.
"He has not!" declares Rosa. "His eyes are very light brown, I ought to know--I've been close to him!"
"I don't see why you can't marry a Cuban or an American--anything but an Italian," says Amanda.
1196
-4-
"I do like Americans," admits Rosa. "Sure! But I can't do nothing about it. The only way to get Americans is to be high-toned and live in Hyde Park and I can't do that. I don't want any damn wild "crackers" from out in the woods, either. They're wild people. You can grow potatoes in their ears and scrape their heels.
"Nicky is a beautician in New York and he came down here to visit his family for the Christmas holidays. He has stayed so long he has lost his job, and now he wants to go back to Hew York and get a job in a restaurant. He wants to go back and get a job and then come marry me, but I want him to marry me first and take me with him when he goes. I always wanted to live in New York."
"She's only known him three weeks," says Amanda, "and says she's going to marry him. Well, marriage is like a lottery: you don't know whether you win or lose till it's all over. I was married when I was thirteen years old, just like Rosa. That's how I know she's too young to think about getting married. She ought to be in school."
"You think I want to start back to school now?" demands Rosa. "And go back to the seventh grade where my kid brother is now? Hell no! I wouldn't start back now for nothing!"
"Rosa sure was smart in school, too," says Amanda. "She made all A's from top to bottom--even skipped a grade. She quit school because she had fainting spells and the doctor said she had a weak heart. But now she goes to dances and everything and doesn't ever faint no more, so I think she must be all right and ought to go
1197
-5-
back to school. I used to have fainting spells like Rosa before I was married, but since I been married I ain't had any at all. Me, dark like 1 am, would get white as a sheet when 1 fainted. I don't know what that is--I never went to a doctor for it.
"When I was married my mother hadn't never told me nothing about life. I was as innocent as the day I was born. When she used to talk about those things she would look at me and I would have to leave the room. I didn't know nothing about how not to have babies --no wonder I had so many. I'm twenty-eight now and got six kids and I don't want no more. There ain't no use in having kids unless you can give them some of the things they need. The more kids you have the less there is to give them.
"I always had to have a chaperone everywhere. My date had to come to the house mostly and sit in the living room with the family and carry on conversation. We couldn't even get up and go back to the kitchen for a drink of water together; I always had to go get the water by myself. My date had to leave at nine-thirty, and I wasn't allowed to walk to the door with him; I had to say good-bye still sitting down."
"Cuban customs are crazy anyway," says Rosa. "I'm glad I was born in America."
"I was born in Key West," replies Amanda. "I'm an American just as much as you are. I may come from Cuban descent, but I'm one hundred percent American just the same."
"Real American people consider you a Cuban," retorts Rosa.
1198