It was late afternoon on the same day. After Walter left, Lena put on her big hat and went out. She didn’t tell Ruth where she was going, but she brought the check with her.

Ruth was ironing more clothes. She was listening to the radio. She was tired, but it was nice to be alone for a little while. Suddenly, Beneatha opened her bedroom door and walked into the living room. Ruth looked at her in surprise. She put down the iron to turn and face her sister-in-law. Beneatha was dressed in new clothes. Ruth was amused. What was she wearing?

Beneatha walked dramatically from her bedroom into the little living room. She was excited about her clothes. They were the clothes from Asagai’s sister. Her hair was inside her new head wrap.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said as she showed the clothes to Ruth. “This is what a well-dressed Nigerian woman wears.”

Beneatha walked to the radio and turned it off. The blues music stopped, and Beneatha took one of the records from Asagai and put it on the record player. The music started. It was a beautiful Nigerian song. Ruth was startled at the sudden sound, but Beneatha stood silently listening for a moment. Then she began to dance.

She danced dramatically all over the room. She tried to perform a traditional African dance. She sang along with the music.

Ruth was amused. Her sister-in-law was so serious, and now she was dancing. She asked what kind of dance it was. It didn’t look like any dancing that she knew.

“It’s a folk dance,” said Beneatha. “It’s from Nigeria. It’s a dance of welcome.”

Ruth smiled, “Who are you welcoming?”

“The men back to the village,” replied Beneatha.

Ruth asked, “Where have they been?”

Beneatha shrugged as she danced. “How should I know? Out hunting or something. Anyway, they are coming back now.”

Ruth laughed, “Well, that’s good.”

Beneatha kept dancing. She was imagining being in Nigeria. She thought about her ancestors from Africa. She felt like this was an important part of her identity.

At that moment, Walter came home from drinking. He leaned against the doorway and watched his sister dance. Suddenly, he lifted both of his hands toward the ceiling and began to dance, too. He came into the apartment and danced with his sister. “In my heart, I am a warrior!” he shouted.

Ruth said with a smile, “In your heart, you are a drunk.”

Walter continued to dance and sing and shout with his sister. Ruth watched them with a little smile. They were so funny when they were happy.

The music continued. Walter imagined being a brave warrior. He imagined that he was hunting a lion. Walter and Beneatha were loud and excited as they imagined life in Africa. They were so loud that they didn’t notice the doorbell ring.

Ruth turned off the record player and went to the door. She opened it and George Murchison walked in.

Walter was standing on a table. He turned to look at George. Walter reached out his hand towards George. “Black Brother!” he called out, inviting him to join the dance.

George straightened his tie and looked at Walter in confusion. “Black Brother, hell!”

“Beneatha, you have company,” Ruth said to her sister-in-law. Then she turned to her husband, “Walter Lee Younger, get down off that table and stop being foolish.”

Walter came down from the table. He suddenly felt dizzy and sick. He quickly ran out of the apartment to the bathroom in the hall.

Ruth rubbed her head. She looked at George apologetically and sighed. She said, “He’s had a little to drink.” Ruth gestured towards Beneatha, “I don’t know what her excuse is.”

George looked at Beneatha impatiently. “What are you wearing? Go change your clothes.”

Beneatha looked at George with a small frown. She slowly lifted her hands to take off her beautiful head wrap. When she took it off, Ruth gasped. Beneatha’s hair was different. It was cut close to her head and unstraightened.

That morning, when Asagai joked about her hair, Beneatha took him seriously. So Beneatha went to the hairdresser. She asked the hairstylist to cut her hair and let it be naturally curly. It was beautiful and short. It was a big change, and Ruth and George were surprised.

Ruth and George asked her what she did to her hair.

“Nothing!” said Beneatha. “I just cut it off.”

Ruth frowned. It was not the current fashion to have short, natural hair. “Are you going to go out like that?” she asked.

Beneatha looked at George. “That’s up to George. If he’s ashamed of his heritage—”

George rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t be so proud of yourself, Bennie, just because you look odd.”

Beneatha said, “It’s natural, and I’m not ashamed. I am not an assimilationist. I will not give up my culture for the dominant culture.”

George was impatient. “Oh dear, here we go again. A lecture on the African past! On our Great West African Heritage!” Beneatha always talked about the great civilizations of West Africa. She talked about empires and sculptures and poetry. He just wanted to go to the theater, but Beneatha always wanted to talk about Africa!

Beneatha began to argue with him and to talk about the great achievements of their African ancestors, but Ruth pushed her into her bedroom. Finally, the door closed and Beneatha began changing her clothes.

Ruth sighed and turned around. “Have a seat, George,” she said tiredly. She tried to make some small talk. “It’s warm, isn’t it? For September… Just like they always say about Chicago weather,” she smiled. “If it’s too hot or cold for you, just wait a minute and it will change!” She laughed softly to herself. “Would you like a nice cold beer?”

“No, thank you,” replied George. He looked at his watch. “I hope that she hurries up.”

Ruth asked when the show was supposed to start.

George told her that it was supposed to start at 8:30pm. “But that’s just Chicago,” he said. “In New York, shows start at 8:40.”

“Oh, do you go to New York often?” Ruth asked with interest. George was from a rich family, and he traveled often for business or just for fun. He told her that he went to New York a few times every year.

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Ruth. “I’ve never been to New York.”

At that moment, Watler came back from the bathroom. He looked at Ruth and George sitting on the couch and said, “New York isn’t better than Chicago. It’s just a whole bunch of people hurrying and being crowded.”

George said with interest, “Oh, have you been to New York?”

Walter lied, “Plenty of times.”

“Walter!” said Ruth.

“Plenty,” said Walter, looking at Ruth. “Do we have anything to drink? Why don’t you offer this man some refreshment?”

“Thank you,” said George, “But I don’t want anything.”

Walter sat down in a chair and rubbed his head. “Where’s Mama?” he asked.

Ruth told him that she was still out.

Walter looked at George. George was wearing expensive clothing. He wore a sports jacket and a V-neck sweater over a button-down shirt with a tie. His pants were soft and expensive looking, and his shoes were clean and white. “Why do all of you college boys wear those girly, white shoes?”

Ruth was shocked at his rudeness, “Walter Lee!” But Geroge just ignored him. “You’ll have to excuse him,” said Ruth to George. She was very embarrassed.

Walter turned to George, “How is your father doing? I heard that you are going to buy that big hotel downtown.” Walter went into the kitchen to get a beer from the refrigerator. Then he sat back down at the table. “Your father is a smart man. He knows how to run a business. He thinks big, you know what I mean? But I think he’s running out of ideas. I’d like to talk to him.” Walter leaned in closer to George. “Listen, man, I have some big plans. I think big, too. Big. Invest big, gamble big, hell, lose big if you have to. You know what I mean? It’s hard to find a man on this whole Southside who understands my kind of thinking. We ought to sit down and talk sometime, man. Man, I have some ideas…”

George looked at his watch again. “Yes, sometime we will do that, Walter.”

Walter understood. George wasn’t interested in talking to him. George thought Walter was nobody. “Yeah, well, when you get the time. I know you’re a busy little boy. You college boys are all the same. What are you learning there? Sociology and psychology? But are they teaching you how to be a man? How to take over and run the world? No, they just teach you how to talk and wear girly-looking, white shoes.”

George didn’t want to argue with Walter. He said, “You’re too bitter, man.”

“Yeah, I’m bitter,” said Walter. “Aren’t you? No, you’ve got an easy life. Bitter? Yes, I’m bitter. No one understands me, not even my own mother.”

At that moment, Beneatha came back out of her room. She was wearing a simple cocktail dress and earrings. The head wrap was gone. Her hair was short and curly against her head.

George smiled and walked toward her, reaching out his arms. “Well, you look great!”

Walter looked at his sister. “What’s the matter with your head?”

Beneatha sighed and just said, “I cut it off, Brother. Let’s go George.”

George put his arm around Beneatha. He looked at her hair and said, “You know something? I like it. It’s sharp.”

They talked for a few more minutes before Beneatha and George finally left for the theater.

“Have a nice time,” said Ruth.

“Thanks,” said George. He turned over his shoulder to look at Walter as he left. He said, “And good night, Prometheus!” Then he closed the door and was gone.

Walter turned to Ruth. He frowned and asked, “Who is Prometheus?”

“I don’t know,” said Ruth with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Walter pointed to the door angrily, “See there—these college students can’t even insult you man to man. They have to talk about something that no one has ever heard of!”

“How do you know it was an insult?” asked Ruth. She smiled at Walter. “Maybe Prometheus is a nice fellow.”

“Prometheus!” said Walter. “I bet there is no such thing!”

“Walter—” Ruth stopped tidying up the apartment and looked at him.

“Don’t start!” yelled Walter. “Don’t start nagging me; where was I? Who was I with? How much money did I spend?”

Ruth said patiently, “Walter Lee, why don’t we just try to talk about it?”

Walter ignored her. “I’ve been out talking with people who understand me. People who care about the things that I think about.”

Ruth knew he meant Willy Harris. She knew he was talking about business and money and big plans with Willy Harris again.

“Oh Walter,” she said quietly. “Honey, why can’t you stop fighting me?”

Walter said quickly, “Who is fighting you? Who even cares about you?” Walter stopped and looked at Ruth. He was ashamed of what he said. He didn’t like fighting with his wife. He didn’t like being mean to her. He just felt so overwhelmed and disappointed by life.

“Well,” said Ruth with a lonely sigh. “I guess I should go to bed now.” She started walking to the bedroom. “I don’t know where we lost our love, but we have… I’m sorry about this new baby, Walter.” She decided that Walter didn’t love her anymore. She couldn’t keep the baby now. She said, “I guess I just didn’t realize how bad things were between us. I guess I just didn’t really realize…” She stopped at the bedroom door, then suddenly asked him, “Do you want some hot milk?”

“Hot milk?” asked Walter.

“Yes, hot milk.”

He shook his head, “No.”

“You ought to have something hot in your stomach, after all of that drinking,” said Ruth gently. “Do you want some coffee, then?”

“No, I don’t want any coffee. I don’t want anything hot to drink.” He sighed and looked at her sadly. “Why are you always trying to give me something to eat?”

She stood in the doorway and looked at him. She felt so alone. “What else can I give you, Walter Lee Younger?”

She turned to go into the bedroom, but Walter said, “It’s been rough, hasn’t it?” Ruth stopped to listen. Walter continued, “Sometimes it’s so hard to understand each other.” She turned to look at him. Walter said, “Why can’t we be soft to each other? Ruth, we should be close. Why do we fight all the time?”

“I don’t know, honey,” said Ruth. “I think about it a lot.” She thought about their relationship. “I wish you could try to talk to me sometimes. Without fighting.”

“Sometimes,” said Walter honestly, “Sometimes I don’t even know how to try to talk to you.”

“Walter,” said Ruth. She walked to him and they held each other gently. “Honey, life doesn’t have to be like this. We can make our life better. Do you remember how we used to talk when Travis was born?” She smiled as she thought about her baby boy. “We used to talk about how we were going to live… We were going to have a house… we had so many dreams.”

Ruth put her hand on Walter’s head gently. They looked into each others’ eyes. She said, “Well, it’s all starting to slip away from us…”

They kissed each other sweetly. They loved each other. Life was just so difficult that they forgot sometimes.

Suddenly, the door opened. Lena walked in and Walter stepped away from Ruth. They both looked at her. Lena had a big smile on her face.

Walter said seriously, “Mama, where have you been?”

Lena went to the table and sat down. She was tired from walking up the stairs. She ignored Walter and asked Ruth how she was feeling.

Ruth shrugged her shoulders. She looked at Walter. Ruth knew Walter was thinking about the money again.

Walter repeated himself, “Mama, where have you been all day?”

Lena ignored him again. She leaned against the table and took her shoes off. She put on her more comfortable house slippers. “Where’s Travis?” she asked.

Ruth crossed her arms and said, “I told him to go play, but now he’s late. He is going to be in trouble when he gets home.”

“Mama!” said Walter again.

“Yes, son?” said Lena.

Walter repeated himself one more time, “Where did you go this afternoon?”

Lena said simply, “I went downtown. I had to do some business.”

“What kind of business?” asked Walter, leaning closer to his mother. Walter felt nervous. He said impatiently, “Where were you Mama? Did you do something with that insurance money?”

Before Lena could answer, the door opened a little way. Travis peeked around the door. He knew that he was late. He was worried about getting in trouble.

He saw his mother. She looked angry. He said, “Mama, I—”

Ruth put her hands on her hips. “You are in so much trouble, boy! Get in that bedroom!”

“But I—,” said Travis.

Lena said, “Why don’t you ever let the child explain himself?”

“Keep out of it now, Lena,” said Ruth. She looked at Travis sternly, “I have told you a thousand times not to go off like that.”

Lena held her arms out for her grandson. “Well, at least let me tell him something. I want him to be the first one to hear. Come here, Travis.”

Travis was relieved. He walked to his grandmother and stood close to her. Lena put her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him.

“You remember that money that we got in the mail this morning?” she asked him.

“Yes’m,” he said.

Lena smiled. She had tears in her eyes. “Well, what do you think your grandmama did with that money?”

“I don’t know, Grandmama,” said Travis.

Walter listened closely.

Lena said slowly and with a smile, “I went and bought you a house!”

Walter moaned with heartbreak. The money was gone! A house! He turned away in anger.

Lena continued talking to her grandson. “Are you glad about the house? It’s going to be yours when you grow up.”

Travis smiled, too. “Yeah,” he said. “I always wanted to live in a house.”

Lena laughed. “Alright, give me some sugar, then.” Travis put his arms around her neck and hugged her. Lena watched Walter as she hugged the little boy. “Now,” she said to Travis. “When you say your prayers tonight, thank God and your grandfather. It’s thanks to him that we can have this house.”

Ruth took the boy from his grandmother and pushed him toward the bedroom. “Now you get out of here and get ready for your spanking.”

Travis’s smile went away, “Aw, mama—”

“Get on in there,” said Ruth as she closed the door behind Travis. She turned to face Lena. Ruth had a huge smile on her face. There were tears in her eyes. “So you went and you bought it!” said Ruth.

Lena looked at Walter. She was worried about him. He looked miserable. She said slowly, “Yes, I did.”

Ruth began to cry. “Praise God!” she said. She looked at Walter and saw that he was upset. She walked to him and put her hands on his shoulders. But Walter shook his shoulders and turned away.

“Oh Walter,” she said. “A home… a home…” Ruth was smiling and crying. She looked back at Lena. “Where is it? How big is it? How much is it going to cost?”

Before Lena could answer, Ruth continued, “When are we moving?”

Lena smiled warmly at Ruth. “The first of the month.”

Ruth smiled and looked up. “Praise God!”

Lena looked at Walter. He was still looking away from them. She answered Ruth’s questions, but she was talking to Walter. She hoped that he could be happy for them. “It’s a nice house. It has three bedrooms, a nice big one for you and Ruth. Beneatha and I will still have to share our room, but Travis will have one of his own.”

She paused for a moment. Then she continued, “If the new baby is a boy, he can share a room with Travis. And there’s a yard with a little patch of dirt where I could start a garden. It has a nice big basement…”

Walter was still silent. Ruth put her hand on his shoulder again, “Walter, honey, be glad—”

Lena continued describing the house. “Of course, it’s not very fancy. It’s just a plain little old house, but it will be ours.” She paused. How could she help her son understand? She said, “Walter Lee—you’ll feel better when you can walk on floors that belong to you…”

Ruth asked where the house was, and Lena said nervously, “Well… it’s out there in Clybourne Park.”

Ruth’s smile disappeared and Walter turned around. “Where?” said Ruth.

“406 Clybourne Street, Clybourne Park,” answered Lena.

Ruth shook her head, “Mama, there aren’t any Black people living in Clybourne Park.”

Chicago was a segregated city. There were some neighborhoods where Black families lived and there were some neighborhoods where only White people lived. The neighborhoods where Black people lived were often overcrowded and too expensive. There were some expensive all-White neighborhoods, but there were also affordable ones. There was often violence when a Black family moved into a White neighborhood. White people would threaten or attack their new Black neighbors. Ruth was frightened.

Lena took a deep breath and said, “Well, I guess there are going to be some Black people living there now.”

Walter was angry. “So, that’s the peace and comfort you bought for us today?” He thought about the bombing that he read about in the paper. It wasn’t safe for his family to live in that neighborhood.

Lena looked at his eyes. “Son, I tried to find the nicest place for the least amount of money for my family.”

Ruth tried to be happy about the house. “Well, well of course I’m not afraid of white people, but,” she continued, “weren’t there any other houses?”

Lena shook her head. “Those houses that they build for Black folks are very far out of town, and they cost twice as much as other houses. I did the best that I could.”

Ruth thought about the house. She was nervous about the neighborhood. Despite her worries, she was happy about having a new place to live. She smiled and wiped her eyes. “Well,” she said, “All I can say is that if this is my time in life to say good-bye to these goddamned cracking walls, and these marching roaches, and this cramped little closet which has never been a real kitchen, then I say it loud and good: Hallelujah! And good-bye misery!” She looked all around the small apartment and wiped her eyes. “I don’t ever want to see your ugly face again!”

Ruth smiled and looked at the little couch. She thought about the new house. Her son could have his own room. “Lena?” she said. “Is there… Is there a whole lot of sunlight?”

Lena smiled warmly. She thought about Travis, too. “Yes, child, there’s a whole lot of sunlight.”

Ruth smiled and nodded quietly. Then she decided that it was time to talk to Travis about being late. She didn’t feel like being angry at him anymore. She went into the bedroom and left Walter and his mother in the mainroom.

Lena and Walter let the room be silent for a few minutes. Then Lena decided to try to talk to her son. “You understand why I did it, right?” Walter didn’t answer. “I saw my family falling apart today. I needed to do something. I needed to fix it.”

Lena waited for Walter to talk, but he was silent. “I wish you would say something, son. I wish you would say how I did the right thing.”

Walter walked slowly to his bedroom door. He stopped and turned around to speak to his mother. His voice was bitter and disappointed. “Why do you want me to say that you did the right thing? You are the head of this family. It was your money, and you did what you wanted with it. You killed my dream.”

Walter closed the door. Lena was alone. She sat in the chair and thought.