Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

time. She seemed, suddenly, to be thinking about something else. . . . "We have a right . . ." It was 6:00 p.m. the following day. Joan was in her room, alone. She sat staring at the telephone beside her. She'd been sitting this way for more than an hour now, staring at the phone, wanting to pick it up, not picking it up. Finally she brought her hand over to the receiver, and lifted it and dialed. She heard her mother's voice a few seconds later: "Joan, how are you, darling? It's been days since you've called. Is everything all right?" Joan said she was fine; that yes, everything was all right. For the next minute or so she asked about her father — how was he; had he got home from work yet? "Just now, he got in this second," her mother said. "Mother," Joan said, suddenly, urgently. "Yes?" her mother asked. "I'm getting married," Joan said. "You're — " Her mother stopped and began to laugh. "Joan. How wonderful. What a wonderful surprise. When did all this happen? Who, who's the man?" "You met him once, mother, at CBC, a few months ago," Joan said. "The day you came to visit the studio." "That nice director?" her mother asked, " — The one from Winnipeg with the deep blue eyes? Him, Joan?" "No," Joan said. "His name is Sammy Davis. He's an entertainer. Sammy Davis, Jr." There was a long, a very long, pause. "Joan," her mother said, finally, a tremor in her voice, "are you talking about the American — the colored singer?" "Yes," Joan said. "And you're what?" her mother asked. " — You're going to marry him?" "I love him, Mother," Joan said. "And yes, I'm going to marry him." "Is this a joke, Joan Stuart — is this your idea of something funny, calling me up and telling me something like this?" "Mother — " Joan started to say. "Is this something you're doing for publicity?" her mother shouted. "Did one of those agents get you into this, for publicity, for some disgusting publicity?" "Mother," Joan said, "I just want you to know, no matter what you feel right now, that I am deeply in love with this man and that I want to marry him. I'd like your approval, yours and Dad's. Your blessings. But—" Again her mother cut in. "Approval? Blessings?" she asked. Her voice rose. "Are you serious? Are you — " Joan heard her mother scream, suddenly, and call for her father. She heard her repeat some of the facts she had just told her — "Sammy Davis," she heard her say, "Negro . . . our baby . . . marry . . . Negro . . . Negro . . . Negro!" Finally, she heard her dad's voice. "Joannie," she heard him say, "you're twenty-one now, on your own. You make your own decisions. But just let me tell you this: I've raised you, daughter, and I know you're a good girl. Just take your time. And don't do anything foolish." "Dad," Joan said, "I know exactly what I'm doing. Believe me. Please believe me . . . You're right, Dad. I am twenty-one. I am on my own now. I do have to make decisions for myself. And this is my decision. Sammy and I — we have a right to be married. We — " Now she began to cry. "Joan, Joanie," she heard her father's voice say She tried to answer, to talk. But she couldn't. Before she knew it, she had hung up. She rose from her chair, and walked across the room, to a window there. She looked down at the street below, at the stream of people walking by. "Please, please," she found herself sobbing, "give us a chance. Won't you?" There was a knock on the door then. It opened, and Sammy walked in. He knew immediately what had happened. "You called your folks?" he asked. "Yes," said Joan. "They don't want it, us, together, married?" Sammy asked. Joan shook her head. Sammy walked to a chair and sat. He looked at Joan, near the window, crying. "Joannie," he said, after a while, softly, "maybe this is for the best. Maybe it's good you learn now, from your own family, what part of your future would be like." He paused. Joan said nothing. "Maybe it's best you find out now, at the beginning," he went on then, " — in time for you to change your mind." "I can't say I won't mind, Joannie," he said, "but — " "Don't, Sammy, don't," Joan shouted, suddenly. "Don't talk like that . . . Don't you start talking like that now. Or else I'll die. Right here, on this spot, I'll wither up and die ... I love you, Sammy. I love you." "And you still want to marry me?" he asked. Joan ran from the window, and threw herself in his arms. This was her answer — her final, neverending answer. end Sammy starred in Porgy and Bess, Columbia, and will be seen in Oceans 11, Warner Bros. The Greatest Addition to Bath Time since Soap... DONALD DUCK SOAP BOAT one of the many new VaJaltDisneV SQUEEZE TOYS designed and distributed by DEIL ©WALT DISNEY LOOK FOR DELL TOYS IN YOUR LOCAL STORES RIGHT NOW!