Invisible man: читать книгу онлайн полностью и бесплатно

"And how would you suggest we go about it?"

"I suggest we get the community leaders on record in support of us."

"There are certain difficulties in face of this," Brother Jack said. "Most of the leaders are against us."

"But I think he's got something there," Brother Clifton said. "What if we got them to support the issue whether they like us or not? The issue is a community issue, it's non-partisan."

"Sure," I said, "that's how it looks to me. With all the excitement over evictions they can't afford to come out against us, not without appearing to be against the best interests of the community ..."

"So we have them across a barrel," Clifton said.

"That is perceptive enough," Brother Jack said.

The others agreed.

"You see," Brother Jack said with a grin, "we've always avoided these leaders, but the moment we start to advance on a broad front, sectarianism becomes a burden to be cast off. Any other suggestions?" He looked around.

"Brother," I said, remembering now, "when I first came to Harlem one of the first things that impressed me was a man making a speech from a ladder. He spoke very violently and with an accent, but he had an enthusiastic audience ... Why can't we carry our program to the street in the same way?"

"So you have met him," he said, suddenly grinning. "Well, Ras the Exhorter has had a monopoly in Harlem. But now that we are larger we might give it a try. What the committee wants is results!"

So that was Ras the Exhorter, I thought.

"We'll have trouble with the Extortor -- I mean the Exhorter," a big woman said. "His hoodlums would attack and denounce the white meat of a roasted chicken."

We laughed.

"He goes wild when he sees black people and white people together," she said to me.

"We'll take care of that," Brother Clifton said, touching his cheek.

"Very well, but no violence," Brother Jack said. "The Brotherhood is against violence and terror and provocation of any kind -- aggressive, that is. Understand, Brother Clifton?"

"I understand," he said.

"We will not countenance any aggressive violence. Understand? Nor attacks upon officials or others who do not attack us. We are against all forms of violence, do you understand?"

"Yes, Brother," I said.

"Very well, having made this clear I leave you now," he said. "See what you can accomplish. You'll have plenty support from other districts and all the guidance you need. Meanwhile, remember that we are all under discipline."

He left and we divided the labor. I suggested that each work in the area he knew best. Since there was no liaison between the Brotherhood and the community leaders I assigned myself the task of creating one. It was decided that our street meetings begin immediately and that Brother Tod Clifton was to return and go over the details with me.

While the discussion continued I studied their faces. They seemed absorbed with the cause and in complete agreement, blacks and whites. But when I tried to place them as to type I got nowhere. The big woman who looked like a southern "sudsbuster" was in charge of women's work, and spoke in abstract, ideological terms. The shy-looking man with the liver splotches on his neck spoke with a bold directness and eagerness for action. And this Brother Tod Clifton, the youth leader, looked somehow like a hipster, a zoot suiter, a sharpie -- except his head of Persian lamb's wool had never known a straightener. I could place none of them. They seemed familiar but were just as different as Brother Jack and the other whites were from all the white men I had known. They were all transformed, like familiar people seen in a dream. Well, I thought, I'm different too, and they'll see it when the talk is finished and the action begins. I'll just have to be careful not to antagonize anyone. As it is, someone might resent my being placed in charge.

But when Brother Tod Clifton came into my office to discuss the street meeting I saw no signs of resentment, but a complete absorption in the strategy of the meeting. With great care he went about instructing me how to deal with hecklers, on what to do if we were attacked, and upon how to recognize our own members from the rest of the crowd. For all his seeming zoot-suiter characteristics his speech was precise and I had no doubt that he knew his business.

"How do you think we'll do?" I said when he had finished.

"It'll go big, man," he said. "It'll be bigger than anything since Garvey."

"I wish I could be so sure," I said. "I never saw Garvey."

"I didn't either," he said, "but I understand that in Harlem he was very big."

"Well, we're not Garvey, and he didn't last."

"No, but he must have had something," he said with sudden passion. "He must have had something to move all those people! Our people are hell to move. He must have had plenty!"