“But once in Baltimore, in the first house where I roomed, a man died quick like that. It was before me and Isabel got married so I was living alone, being just a young man. I did not know this fellow who died very well, but he roomed next to me on the same floor, three rings. Sometimes I would hear him stumbling around in his room, humming and singing to himself:

I got the Dallas blues

And the Fort Worth

Heart’s disease …

“Once in a while we shared a quart of beer together and talked about the weather. But I never went nowhere with the man and he never went nowhere with me, and I only ran into him once on the street, so I did not know him very well. But when he died I missed him. Just like sometimes when somebody dies in the papers that you did not know, President Roosevelt, or a movie star. You never did know them to speak to them a-tall, but you miss them right on.

“Well, when this same-floor roomer of mine died, I were asleep. The next morning, they told me he was dead. It was hard to believe because I had just seen the guy the night before in the hallway going to the bathroom to soak his corns.

“He told me, ‘My feet’s been giving me hell today.’

“I said, ‘Not you, but me. I do believe black feet hurt worse than white.’

“We laughed. He said, ‘Dark men, dark feet, dark days.’

“That were the last thing that man said to me. Next morning he were gone.

“Where do people go when they are gone? And why? One day, here, the next day, gone. They could not find no address for that man’s people for nobody to claim the funeral. Maybe none of his kinfolks had the money to pay for it. And he did not have no insurance. Anyhow, he went unclaimed. The city came and took him away, Baltimore City, which is a prejudiced town, so I do not know what they do with colored folks who have died, maybe give them to the medical students, because even when you are alive they do not treat you very well. Anyhow, the city taken that man. I did not see him come down the hall no more that day, nor never.

“I have not seen nobody die in their presence, so I do not know how that roomer went except that he went in the night when he were alone by hisself. I would not want to go like that. I would want somebody with me. I want some woman to hold my hand, some slim tall sweet old gal like Joyce to say, ‘Baby, don’t go! I do not know what I can do without you.’