Get up, Babygirl! Time for Work!
Valentino blew his horn. It was a bit before 8:30 a.m.
Gwynette cussed. “Damn. Why did I agree to do this?” She hurried outside, grabbing a sweater on her way out.
Valentino’s shiny black Cadillac DeVille commanded attention. He was showing the wears of a successful man.
“Hey, lovely. You ready for a hard day of work, girl?”
“I’m in the car, Valentino. Let’s ride, big brother before I change my mind.”
“Ah, don’t be like that. You’ll love it. The music business is great. It’s been good to me.”
“I’m hungry, Valentino and I’m not doing anything until I get something in my stomach.”
“Ok, we’ll, stop by Ray’s on 43rd Street. I got a taste for some hot buttered grits fo’ sho.”
“Fo’ sho.” Gwynette agreed.
“You know, Babygirl, Bronzeville is changing. When I was a kid, this place used to jump. We had everything here, but when restrictive covenants that prevented Black people from moving into mostly white areas of the city were removed; a lot of us packed it up and ran to the suburbs. With that, we lost a lot of business and history. Like, take 47th street for example: when mama and daddy came to Chicago, man…that place was like heaven. We had our own businesses. Racism kept Black people locked into certain areas, but that only fueled Black entrepreneurship, and helped build our communities. By day, 47th street was a busy commercial area. By night, it was a thriving night club area. All the stars, like Sammy Davis Jr., Lena Horne, Ella Fitzgerald, Josephine Baker to name a few, played at clubs on 47th street.
Clubs like
Chez Paree, the Parkway Ballroom, Gerri's Palm Tavern, and the Regal Theatre. It used to pop, but now, things are starting to change. I can see it each and every day I open the store. Things had gotten kind of slow for a while, but Motown is getting hot and my sales are going through the roof. However, for some of the business owners still on or around 47th street; it’s causing some to close up shop.”
“Valentino, mama and daddy tell me all the time about how great Bronzeville was, but I think it’s ok right now.”
“Sure you do, Babygirl—you’re still young and you’ve got a lot to learn yet.”
Valentino turned onto east 43rd. The streets were starting to stir a little bit. Ray’s was in view. He already had a little crowd in his place. Everybody went to Ray’s. He had the best food, conversation, and general attraction for all the interesting people that frequented Bronzeville: the shoeshine dudes, sipping coffee and eating pancakes and bacon right alongside all the fat cat doctors, lawyers, and big shot politicians. Even the pimps came into Rays. Everyone was equal. No judgment.
Gwynette yawned. She was still mad for agreeing to work on a Saturday. She’d rather hang out with Bunny. She wondered what she was doing.
Valentino pulled into Ray’s.
“Babygirl, we is here. It’s time to eat. You know what you want?”
“No. I’ll see what he has on the menu.”
“Well, if I can make a recommendation; some good old fashioned grits, eggs and bacon is the best.”
“I don’t know, Valentino…I might just have toast.”
“Toast?”
“Girl, the way I’m gonna work you today, you better get something in your stomach right now because you gon’ wish you had. We gotta a lot to do at the store. I open at 10:00 a.m. But it’s Saturday, and I know it’s gonna be busy. Everybody parties on Saturday night, and they all want the latest music.”
YOU ARE READING
Butterflies in Bronzeville
General FictionThe city of Chicago is known for many things, both good and bad, but it is also a city of neighborhoods. Set on the city’s south side, A community equal to Harlem, New York in African American pride and culture, is the setting of this story. Bronzev...
