FOUNTAINS OF THE PAST
By William M. Walker, Jr.
It was the summer of ’54 and Steven sat between his parents while his feet dangled from the bench, not quite reaching the floor. His mother sat on his right, wearing a sun-dress, white gloves and pill box hat. His father sat on his left, wearing a suit and black tie, with a Fedora on his head. Steven was a small child, sitting quietly in shorts and a white collared shirt. The three of them waited patiently as announcements echoed through the large hall they were in.
Steven looked up at his mother.
​
“Ummm… Mom, how much longer ‘till the train gets here?”
“Not for another hour, dear.”
Steven considered things for a moment.
“Ummm … may I go get sum water?”
“Yes dear, but come right back.”
“Yes ‘um.”
Steven pushed himself off the bench and landed on his shoes with a loud smacking noise on the hard floor. Steven’s father looked over at his son and raised an eyebrow. Steven immediately adopted a sheepish look on his face as he knew his father did not like loud noises. His mother had told him that father had been in something called a “war” and ever since was not fond of anything loud. Steven was careful to walk quietly from the bench.
The train station seemed cavernous to Steven and full of new things to look at. He walked along the side of a wall and ran his hand along it, tracing the tile-work on the wall with his fingers. Then he skipped his feet along the linoleum floor and almost bumped into a man hurrying past.
Steven then reached the main hall of the station. People walked in all directions, going to and fro, and he wondered where they all might be going. Pausing before a large board that listed arrivals and departures, he tried to understand all the place names. Steven was from a small town and this was his first trip away from home. While he recognized some of the place names, like the county seat, most of the names were unknown. He did not know that there could be so many places in the world.
Steven then reached the main hall of the station. People walked in all directions, going to and fro, and he wondered where they all might be going. Pausing before a large board that listed arrivals and departures, he tried to understand all the place names. Steven was from a small town and this was his first trip away from home. While he recognized some of the place names, like the county seat, most of the names were unknown. He did not know that there could be so many places in the world.
​
​Steven recalled that his mother would not want him to linger, so he continued on by squeezing through the moving bodies. He looked around and finally spied two water fountains on a far wall and made his way over to them. Steven stood in front of both, shifting his weight from foot to foot and considered.
The fountain on the left had a small rectangular sign above it that said “White.” Steven was momentarily confused because only one fountain was white and it had a small rectangular sign above it that said, “colored.” Steven shrugged and stepped up to the “white” fountain and pushed the metal button. Stepping up on the tips of his toes, Steven was able to get his lips to reach the arcing stream of water. He then stepped back and wiped his whole arm across his mouth. Then he noticed a black child about his own age standing beside him. He looked at Steven and said, “What’s your name?”
“I’m Stevie. What’s your name?”
“I’m Malcolm.”
“You ever been onna train?” Steven asked.
“Yea, I been on two trains!” Malcolm said.
“Wow! What’s it like?”
“It’s faster than any car! I look out the windows and watch the trees zip by.”
“Coolio! I never rid a train before.”
“You’ll like it!”
Malcolm then stepped up to the “colored” fountain and turned its knob but no water came out. Malcolm then turned the knob the opposite direction but still received no reaction. He hit the side a few times but still no water came out. Malcolm sighed.
​​“It’s broke,” he said.
“Oh,” said Steven, “can’t you use the other one?”
“Naw, that one is for white folks. My mama says I can only use the colored one.”
“Oh…..”
Malcolm turned and pointed to a set of two doors a few feet away, both of which had “men’s restroom” over the doorways. But the front of one door had “white” on it and the other had “colored” on it.
“I have to use the colored bathroom too.”
“But why?”
“Cuz my mama says that white folks thinks that colored folks have coodies or something.”
“Do you?” asked Steven.
“Of course not!” Malcolm responded with indignation.
Steven thought for a moment.
“I think my lil sister had coodies once. But the doc came and she got better.”
Steven considered something for a moment and then cocked his head to the side like a dog when it hears a high pitched sound.
“Ifin I’m white and I get to use this fountain, can’t I let you have my turn?”
Malcolm shook his head from side to side.
“It don’t work like that,” he said.
“But listen,” Steven said, “I was gonna take another drink. I’ll let you have it instead.”
Malcolm considered this for a few moments and felt that something was not quite right. However, he could not find any immediate flaw in Steven’s logic. Steven reached over and pushed the metal button and the water began to flow again. Malcolm hesitated but then shrugged, stepped up and began to drink.
“Hey boy!” a voice erupted from across the room.
Malcolm froze and Steven looked around. An overweight man ambled out of the crowd and approached the two children. His clothes were very neat and his hair was precisely combed and held in place with a generous use of Dapper Dan. His whole appearance was arranged so perfectly almost in an attempt to make up for his round belly spilling over his belt.
“Boy, you are not allowed to use that!” the man said loudly.
“But he said …..” Malcolm tried to explain while pointing at Steven.
“I don’t care boy! You are to use the colored facilities only!”
The man’s loud voice began to attract some onlookers and a few stopped to see what was going on.
“But sir,” Steven said, “the colored fountain is broken.”
The man spoke more softly to Steven.
“Now son, that does not matter. The colored need to keep to themselves.”
“But why?” Steven asked.
The man seemed momentarily befuddled but before he could form an answer, a woman’s voice rang out behind the growing group of onlookers.
“Malcolm!”
A black woman in a long overcoat and with a small handbag on her elbow pushed her way through the crowd.
“Malcolm,” she said urgently, “come here baby.”
“It’s alright, mama! Stevie said it was okay,” Malcolm said and pointed to Steven.
Malcolm’s mother grabbed his arm and it looked like she was about to spank him.
“How many times have I told you not to talk to white folks.”
“But he’s not white folks, he’s a kid like me!”
Malcolm’s mother got a funny look on her face and her hand froze before it could strike Malcolm’s bottom.
“Okay folks, what is going on here?” a young policeman said as he shouldered past some of the onlookers. The overweight man pointed at Malcolm and explained.
​
“This colored boy was drinking out of the white fountain.”
​
The policeman turned to Malcolm as murmurs past through the surrounding crowd. But before the officer could question anyone, Steve interjected.
“But I told ‘em it was okay!”
The policeman turned to Steven, “But son, it’s not your place to tell him that.”
“But why? I just gave my turn to Malcolm is all.”
“You cannot do that. White people and the colored are not allowed to mix.”
“But why?”
“Because that is just the way it has always been.”
The policeman’s tone and the look on his face both communicated that the discussion was over.
Steven began to sulk and said,
“We was just fine until all you grown-ups showed up.”
Now the policeman got a funny look on his face. At that moment, Steven’s mother pushed her way to the front of the crowd.
“Steven Graham Hudson! What did you do?”
Steven rolled his eyes because any time his mother used his full name, he knew he was in trouble. But before he could answer, Malcolm’s mother spoke out.
“Your son is trying to get my son into trouble!”
Steven’s mother snapped back, “How can my son get your son in trouble?”
As the two mothers glared at each other the policeman injected himself back into situation, stepping in between each set of mother and child.
“Now ladies, maybe it would be best if we all got about our business. I’m sure y’all have trains to catch.”
The anger in each mother’s face lessened, if ever so slightly. The officer whirled on the onlookers behind him.
“And you folks, let’s move along. I’m sure y’all got things to do and places to be.”
The crowd began to break up and each of the onlookers began to wander off in different directions. The overweight man lingered as if to talk to the policeman but the officer glanced back at the overweight man and gave a quick shake of his head. The overweight man’s feeling of injustice would have to go unsatisfied today. He looked down and walked slowly away, disappearing into the crowd.
Steven’s mother took her son’s hand and began to walk away as Malcolm’s mother took her own son in the opposite direction. Steven looked over his shoulder as Malcolm did the same. As their eyes met, Malcolm waved goodbye and Steven waved back. He was looking forward to his train ride but he could not help but wonder if he would ever see Malcolm again.
© 2025, All Rights Reserved. William M. Walker, Jr.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.