A door opened to a stall near us and a white woman came out. “There’s one open,” I said. “Go on, Brenda.”
Brenda hesitated and the attendant said, “One at the end’ll be open in a minute.”
“Go on,” I said again to Brenda. “Thought you had to go so bad.”
Brenda looked at me, then went into the stall. The attendant stared nervously on. “You girls gonna get me in trouble,” she muttered. “Colored girls usually use the one at the end.”
I turned to her. “What?”
“Never mind,” she mumbled as another white woman stepped from a stall. The woman washed her hands and the attendant, smiling, handed her a towel. The woman thanked the attendant, tipped her a quarter, and went out. Several other women, all white, came in. Not in line, I stepped aside. One of the women entered the empty stall. Then the door to Brenda’s stall opened and Brenda came out. The second woman in line said to the woman in front of her, “There’s a stall open.”
And the other woman said, “I’m not about to use that toilet after she’s been in there.”
Brenda heard, but said nothing and went over to the sink. The attendant heard as well and she too said nothing. As another stall door opened and a white woman exited, the white woman who had made the remark started toward the stall. I stepped in front of her and looked back. “You too good to use a toilet after a colored person, you won’t be able to use this toilet either.” Then I entered the stall and closed the door in her face.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
When Brenda and I returned upstairs Moe and Henry were waiting for us at the stairs leading to the balcony. “You two certainly took long enough,” laughed Henry. “We thought you fell in.”
“We had better go on up,” said Moe. “They’re beginning the previews.”
I stared at the winding staircase as several couples made their way up the stairs. Clusters of people were already gathered on the landing. All were well-groomed, well-dressed, and all were colored. The balcony was where colored folks always sat, and it was understood that it was where we were supposed to sit. I figured not to sit there today. I was sick of the bigotry. I turned from the stairs to Moe. “Moe, could I have my ticket, please?”
“Well . . . sure, Cassie,” Moe complied, without questioning me.
“Thanks,” I said, and moved away.
“Cassie, where you going?” asked Brenda.
“I think I’ll sit downstairs this evening.”
“What!” exclaimed Henry.
And Moe shook his head. “Cassie . . .”
“I’m not sitting in the balcony, Moe. Not today.”
“Girl, you must be nuts!” surmised Henry. “What’s got into you?”
Brenda grabbed my arm. “Cassie, don’t get us into trouble!”
My eyes locked on hers. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Go on upstairs.” I looked at Moe. “You too, Moe. I’ll sit down here by myself.” I didn’t wait for Moe to respond. I left the three of them standing there and headed for one of the two downstairs entries into the theater.
I got in line behind a white couple. As the young uniformed usher took their tickets with a friendly smile and said, “Hope you enjoy the show,” I stepped forward. With his head turned toward the couple who had just passed, the usher, still smiling, turned toward me and his smile vanished. “Uh . . . you’re in the wrong line.”
“I don’t see any other line,” I said. “Here’s my ticket.”
The usher reddened. “Like I said . . . uh, you’re in the wrong line. You’re supposed to be in the balcony.” He nodded toward the stairs. “You just head up those stairs. Someone’ll take your ticket up there.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m sitting downstairs today. Here’s my ticket.”
“And here’s mine.” I turned. Moe took my ticket and held both toward the usher.
“But you can’t—” objected the usher.
“We’ll need our stubs back,” Moe said.
The usher was baffled. He looked around for help, but the lobby had cleared and there seemed no one available. Most of the moviegoers were now inside.
“Could you hurry up?” I asked the usher. “The movie is about to start.”
Seemingly not knowing what to do, the usher took the tickets, tore them in half, and handed the stubs to Moe. “I’ll have to get the manager, you know,” he said as we walked past him.
“Go ahead,” I said. “We’ll be down front.” With that, I stepped into the darkened theater with Moe beside me and walked the plush red carpet toward the huge screen looming before us.
It was a long walk down the aisle and the audience began to take notice. A murmur rose against the backdrop of cartoons on the screen. I tried to ignore them. There were three sections of seating divided by two aisles, with the center section being triple the size of the two sections that ran along the walls. Four rows from the stage were empty seats right at the entry to the row. I took the second seat from the aisle and Moe sat in the aisle seat. I had finally made it to the main floor, the forbidden section of the theater. The irony was, though, as I sat watching the screen, I realized that the view of the massive screen was actually better from the balcony. But I kept telling myself it was the principle of the thing. Several seats separated us from the other moviegoers in the row, who nudged each other and turned to stare at us.
All eyes in the theater, it seemed, were on us.
I sipped the drink Moe had bought me. Moe looked at me and smiled. “Popcorn?” he said, offering me the box. I smiled back and took a handful. Then we both set our gaze on the screen. The main feature was about to begin. A few minutes into it, murmuring rose from the back of the theater and, turning, Moe and I saw a circle of light on the aisle floor. Then two men, one carrying a flashlight, were standing at our row. One was the young ticket taker. The other was a much older man who announced softly, “I am the manager. The two of you will have to leave.”
Moe and I looked at the screen.
The manager continued. “Now, I don’t want any trouble in here, but if you don’t leave voluntarily, I’ll have to call the police.”
Moe didn’t say anything, but I knew what he was thinking. He couldn’t afford to deal with the police. He could have gotten up and left, but I knew he wouldn’t. I had started this thing and he was leaving it up to me. I acknowledged Moe with a look and said to the manager, “Why do we have to leave? We paid our money just like everybody else sitting here.”