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.Greg Rosen had plied me with questionsabout the future how would I stay in touch with Sam? did I want him to visit me? until Igrew tired of faking replies and told him the truth.In response, he had asked if he could usemy department store charge cards to buy some equipment he needed.It shouldn't makeany difference to me since, by the time the bills came, Jane Alpert would not exist.Togetherwe went to Macy's and Bloomingdale's where I signed my name to hundreds of dollars ofpurchases: traveling clothes for me, and for Greg a stopwatch, a camera, and binoculars, allfor a reason he refused to divulge.Because Maude was going to be out of town on the night of my departure, I asked RobinMorgan to help me with my disguise.She had already given me a gift of $1,000 toward myexpenses, wrapped in a Sunday Times, and on the night I was to leave she met me atMaude's apartment (to which I had the keys) disguised in a curly wig and glasses.Shehelped me bleach my hair with a shampoo-in blond coloring, made up my face withtheatrical pancake, and gave me a crash course in changing my walk and voice.I filled thecard holders of a new wallet with the false ID Maude had left for me: I was now going to beFrances Ethel Matthews, born in Virginia, age twenty-five.My nickname would be Maddy.Maddy Matthews: I kept repeating it to myself, trying to make it my own.Pennsylvania Station had been packed with antiwar protesters on their way to Washingtonto demonstrate against Nixon's invasion of Cambodia.Their camaraderie affected me asusual with painful longing.I wanted to be part of them and drew little comfort from thinkingthat they would cheer me if they knew who I was.I imagined their resenting my newstraight appearance my print shirtwaist and lipstick and the tortoiseshell glasses I hadsubstituted for my contact lenses.Once secluded in the privacy of the Pullman car Maudehad reserved, I immediately removed the glasses, wiped off a layer of Robin's pancake, andbrushed the spray out of my hair.Shadowy fears kept me awake in my bunk bed all theway to Baltimore.157From Baltimore I took a taxi to Dulles Airport and then boarded a plane to Montgomery.Thefrequent changes had been Maude's idea, as was the plan for me to spend two weeks withher friend in Alabama before going on to meet Dana and, I hoped.Pat in San Francisco.Itseemed as though I were rushing headlong into a vacuum.And now that I had arrived, I feltlike a fool, in a place where I knew no one and was waiting to be met by Maude's namelessfriend.A slender woman in a bright sundress waved at me cheerfully."You must be Maddy," shesaid, taking my bag."I'm Leslie.""But how did you recognize me?""It was easy.You're the only woman on the plane under sixty.But I did think you weregoing to be blond."My hand went to my hair, to which I'd applied two full bottles of color last night."What color would you call it?""I think it's brown," said my benefactor."Maybe a little on the reddish side."I trudged after her to the parking lot, wondering how safe it would be to discuss a newbleach job with her.Leslie lived in Selma, where she worked as codirector of a project that allocated federalassistance funds to black fanners in the southwestern part of the state.Her boyfriend, B.T.,a Mississippi black, was codirector and shared the quarters rented by the project in the poorblack section of the town.It was a cheap frame house with an asbestos roof but morecomfortable and clean than what I was used to on the Lower East Side.My bedroom on therear porch was furnished with a bed, a rickety bureau, an armchair, and a faded rug andsmelled of citronella and roses.When we arrived, Leslie showed me around and then left mealone in the room to recuperate from my trip.I allowed an hour to pass so that I wouldn't seem overanxious.Then I went out to buy hairdye.In the black section of town residents cooled themselves on their porches or weededscraggly gardens.In the white section I was the lone person on foot.I imagined hundredsof eyes staring at me behind the dimity-curtained windows, memorizing my features.Once back at the house, I locked myself in the bathroom and opened the box of Clairol.Thisproduct was especially designed to turn dark hair light, unlike the gentler potion I had usedat Maude's last night [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]