"You don't even know. Come here, Jesus," Amy sighed and shook her head. "Hurt?""A touch.""Good for you. More it hurt more better it is. Can't nothing heal without pain, you know. What youwiggling for?"Sethe raised up on her elbows. Lying on her back so long had raised a ruckus between her shoulderblades. The fire in her feet and the fire on her back made her sweat.
"My back hurt me," she said.
"Your back? Gal, you a mess. Turn over here and let me see." In an effort so great it made her sickto her stomach, Sethe turned onto her right side. Amy unfastened the back of her dress and said, "Come here, Jesus," when she saw. Sethe guessed it must be bad because after that call to JesusAmy didn't speak for a while. In the silence of an Amy struck dumb for a change, Sethe felt thefingers of those good hands lightly touch her back. She could hear her breathing but still thewhitegirl said nothing. Sethe could not move. She couldn't lie on her stomach or her back, and tokeep on her side meant pressure on her screaming feet. Amy spoke at last in her dreamwalker'svoice.
"It's a tree, Lu. A chokecherry tree. See, here's the trunk — it's red and split wide open, full of sap,and this here's the parting for the branches. You got a mighty lot of branches. Leaves, too, looklike, and dern if these ain't blossoms. Tiny little cherry blossoms, just as white. Your back got awhole tree on it. In bloom. What God have in mind, I wonder. I had me some whippings, but Idon't remember nothing like this. Mr. Buddy had a right evil hand too. Whip you for looking athim straight. Sure would. I looked right at him one time and he hauled off and threw the poker atme. Guess he knew what I was a-thinking.'"Sethe groaned and Amy cut her reverie short — long enough to shift Sethe's feet so the weight,resting on leaf-covered stones, was above the ankles.
"That better? Lord what a way to die. You gonna die in here, you know. Ain't no way out of it.
Thank your Maker I come along so's you wouldn't have to die outside in them weeds. Snake comealong he bite you. Bear eat you up. Maybe you should of stayed where you was, Lu. I can see byyour back why you didn't ha ha. Whoever planted that tree beat Mr. Buddy by a mile. Glad I ain'tyou. Well, spiderwebs is 'bout all I can do for you. What's in here ain't enough. I'll look outside.
Could use moss, but sometimes bugs and things is in it. Maybe I ought to break them blossomsopen. Get that pus to running, you think? Wonder what God had in mind. You must of didsomething. Don't run off nowhere now."Sethe could hear her humming away in the bushes as she hunted spiderwebs. A humming sheconcentrated on because as soon as Amy ducked out the baby began to stretch. Good question, shewas thinking. What did He have in mind? Amy had left the back of Sethe's dress open and now atail of wind hit it, taking the pain down a step. A relief that let her feel the lesser pain of her soretongue. Amy returned with two palmfuls of web, which she cleaned of prey and then draped onSethe's back, saying it was like stringing a tree for Christmas.
"We got a old nigger girl come by our place. She don't know nothing. Sews stuff for Mrs. Buddy— real fine lace but can't barely stick two words together. She don't know nothing, just like you.
You don't know a thing. End up dead, that's what. Not me. I'm a get to Boston and get myself somevelvet. Carmine. You don't even know about that, do you? Now you never will. Bet you nevereven sleep with the sun in your face. I did it a couple of times. Most times I'm feeding stock beforelight and don't get to sleep till way after dark comes. But I was in the back of the wagon once andfell asleep. Sleeping with the sun in your face is the best old feeling. Two times I did it. Once whenI was little. Didn't nobody bother me then. Next time, in back of the wagon, it happened again anddoggone if the chickens didn't get loose. Mr. Buddy whipped my tail. Kentucky ain't no good placeto be in. Boston's the place to be in. That's where my mother was before she was give to Mr. Buddy. Joe Nathan said Mr. Buddy is my daddy but I don't believe that, you?"Sethe told her she didn't believe Mr. Buddy was her daddy.
"You know your daddy, do you?""No," said Sethe.
"Neither me. All I know is it ain't him." She stood up then, having finished her repair work, andweaving about the lean-to, her slow-moving eyes pale in the sun that lit her hair, she sang: "'Whenthe busy day is done And my weary little one Rocketh gently to and fro; When the night windssoftly blow, And the crickets in the glen Chirp and chirp and chirp again; Where "pon the hauntedgreen Fairies dance around their queen, Then from yonder misty skies Cometh Lady Button Eyes."Suddenly she stopped weaving and rocking and sat down, her skinny arms wrapped around herknees, her good good hands cupping her elbows. Her slow-moving eyes stopped and peered intothe dirt at her feet. "That's my mama's song. She taught me it.""Through the muck and mist and glaam To our quiet cozy home, Where to singing sweet and lowRocks a cradle to and fro. Where the clock's dull monotone Telleth of the day that's done, Wherethe moonbeams hover o'er Playthings sleeping on the floor, Where my weary wee one lies ComethLady Button Eyes. "Layeth she her hands upon My dear weary little one, And those white handsoverspread Like a veil the curly head,Seem to fondle and caress Every little silken tress. Then she smooths the eyelids down Over thosetwo eyes of brown In such soothing tender wise Cometh Lady Button Eyes."
“你这样在山坡上走来走去，是找不着事儿干的，小姐。 ”
“嚯，这是谁呀，这么大口气。我在这儿可比你有事儿干。他们抓住你就会割下你的脑袋。没人追我，可我知道有人在追你。”爱弥把手指按进那女奴的脚心，“孩子是谁的？ ”
塞丝没有回答。
“你自己都不知道。来看看哪，耶稣。”爱弥叹了口气，摇摇头，“疼吗？”
“有点儿。”
“好极了。越疼越好。知道么，不疼就好不了。你扭什么？”
塞丝用胳膊肘支起身子。躺了这么久，两片肩胛骨都打起架来了。脚里的火和背上的火弄得她大汗淋漓。
“我后背疼。”她说。
“后背？姑娘，你真是一团糟。翻过来让我瞧瞧。”
塞丝费了好大劲，胃里一阵翻腾，才向右翻过身去。爱弥把她裙子的背面解开，刚一看见后背便失声道：
“来看哪，耶稣。”塞丝猜想伤势一定糟透了，因为爱弥喊完“耶稣”以后好半天都没吱声。在爱弥怔怔地发呆的沉默中，塞丝感觉到那双好手的指头在轻轻地触摸她的后背。她听得见那个白人姑娘的呼吸，可那姑娘还是没有开口。塞丝不能动弹。她既不能趴着也不能仰着，如果侧卧，就会压到她那双要命的脚。爱弥终于用梦游一般的声音说话了。
“是棵树，露。一棵苦樱桃树。看哪，这是树干———通红通红的，朝外翻开，尽是汁儿。从这儿分杈。你有好多好多的树枝。好像还有树叶，还有这些，要不是花才怪呢。小小的樱桃花，真白。你背上有一整棵树。正开花呢。我纳闷上帝是怎么想的。我也挨过鞭子，可从来没有过这种样子。巴迪先生的手也特别黑。你瞪他一眼就会挨鞭子。肯定会。我有一回瞪了他，他就大叫大嚷，还朝我扔火钳子。我猜大概他知道我在想什么。”
塞丝呻吟起来。爱弥暂时中断了想入非非，把塞丝的两只脚挪到铺满树叶的石头上，不让脚踝太吃劲。
“这样好一点吗？主啊，这么个死法。知道吗，你会死在这儿的。逃不掉了。感谢上帝吧，我打这儿路过了，所以你不用死在杂草丛里了。蛇路过会咬你。熊会吃了你。也许你该留在原来的地 方，露。我从你的后背看出来你为什么不留在那儿，哈哈。甭管那棵树是谁种的，他都比巴迪先生狠上一百倍。幸亏我不是你。看来，我只能去给你弄点蜘蛛网来。这屋里的还不够。我得上外面找找去。用青苔也行，只怕里头会有虫子什么的。也许我该掰开那些花，把脓挤出去，你觉得呢？真纳闷上帝当时是怎么想的。你肯定干了什么。现在哪儿也别逃了。
”
塞丝听得见她在树丛里哼着歌儿找蜘蛛网。她用心聆听着哼唱声，因为爱弥一出去那婴儿就开始踢腾。问得好，她心想。上帝当时是怎么想的？爱弥让塞丝背上的裙衣敞着，一阵轻风拂过，痛楚减轻了一层。这点解脱让她感觉到了相对轻微一些的舌头上的疼痛。爱弥抓着两大把蜘蛛网回来了。她弄掉粘上的小虫子，把蜘蛛网敷在塞丝的背上，说这就像装饰圣诞树一样。
“我们那儿有一个黑鬼老太太，她啥都不懂。给巴迪太太做针线———织得一手好花边，可是几乎不能连着说出两个词儿来。她啥都不懂，跟你似的。你一点儿事也不省。死了就拉倒了，就是那样。我可不是。我要去波士顿给自己弄点天鹅绒。胭脂色的。你连听都没听说过，对吧？你以后也不可能见到了。我敢打赌你甚至再也不会在阳光底下睡觉了。我就睡过两回。平时我是在掌灯之前喂牲口，天黑以后好长时间才睡觉。可有一次我在大车上躺下就睡着了。在太阳底下睡觉是天底下最美的事了。我睡了两回。第一回我还小呐。根本没人打扰我。第二回，躺在大车上，我又睡着了，真倒霉，小鸡崽要不丢才怪呢。巴迪先生抽了我的屁股。肯塔基不是个人待的地方。波士顿才是人待的地方呢。我妈妈被送给巴迪先生之前就住在那儿。乔•南森说巴迪先生是我爹，可我不信，你呢？
”
塞丝告诉她，她不相信巴迪先生是她爹。
“你认得你爹，对吧？
”
“不认得。
”塞丝答道。
“我也不认得。我只知道不是他。
”干完了修补工作后，她站起身来，开始在这间披屋里转来转去。在阳光里，她的头发闪亮，迟缓的眼睛变得迷离；她唱道：
忙碌的一天过去了，我的疲倦的小宝宝，摇篮里面摇啊摇；晚风轻轻吹，幽谷里的小蟋蟀，一刻不停吵又吵。
青青草地成仙境，仙女绕着仙后把舞跳。
天边茫茫迷雾里，扣子眼睛太太就来到。
忽然，她停止晃悠，坐下来，细胳膊搂住膝盖，那么好的好手抱着双肘。她慢吞吞的目光定在脚丫里的泥巴上。
“那是我妈妈的歌儿。她教给我的。
”
走过粪堆、迷雾和暮色，我们家安静又美好，甜甜蜜蜜轻声唱，把那摇篮摇啊摇。
钟声嘀嘀嗒，宣布一天过去了，月光洒满地，满地玩具都睡着。
睡吧疲倦的小宝宝，扣子眼睛太太就来到。
把她双手安顿好，我的疲倦的小宝宝，小手张开白胖胖，好像发网头上罩。
宝宝惹人爱， 一头缎带小鬈毛。
轻轻合上黑眼睛，两颗明珠要关牢。
动作轻柔赛羽毛，扣子眼睛太太就来到。
Chapter 20
Amy sat quietly after her song, then repeated the last line before she stood, left the lean-to andwalked off a little ways to lean against a young ash. When she came back the sun was in the valleybelow and they were way above it in blue Kentucky light. "'You ain't dead yet, Lu? Lu?""Not yet.""Make you a bet. You make it through the night, you make it all the way." Amy rearranged theleaves for comfort and knelt down to massage the swollen feet again. "Give these one more realgood rub," she said, and when Sethe sucked air through her teeth, she said, "Shut up. You got tokeep your mouth shut."Careful of her tongue, Sethe bit down on her lips and let the good hands go to work to the tune of"So bees, sing soft and bees, sing low." Afterward, Amy moved to the other side of the lean-towhere, seated, she lowered her head toward her shoulder and braided her hair, saying, "Don't upand die on me in the night, you hear? I don't want to see your ugly black face hankering over me.
If you do die, just go on off somewhere where I can't see you, hear?""I hear," said Sethe. I'll do what I can, miss."Sethe never expected to see another thing in this world, so when she felt toes prodding her hip ittook a while to come out of a sleep she thought was death. She sat up, stiff and shivery, while Amylooked in on her juicy back.
"Looks like the devil," said Amy. "But you made it through.
Come down here, Jesus, Lu made it through. That's because of me. I'm good at sick things. Canyou walk, you think?""I have to let my water some kind of way.""Let's see you walk on em."It was not good, but it was possible, so Sethe limped, holding on first to Amy, then to a sapling.
"Was me did it. I'm good at sick things ain't I?""Yeah," said Sethe, "you good.""We got to get off this here hill. Come on. I'll take you down to the river. That ought to suit you.
Me, I'm going to the Pike. Take me straight to Boston. What's that all over your dress?""Milk.""You one mess."Sethe looked down at her stomach and touched it. The baby was dead. She had not died in thenight, but the baby had. If that was the case, then there was no stopping now. She would get thatmilk to her baby girl if she had to swim.
"Ain't you hungry?" Amy asked her.
"I ain't nothing but in a hurry, miss.""Whoa. Slow down. Want some shoes?""Say what?""I figured how," said Amy and so she had. She tore two pieces from Sethe's shawl, filled them withleaves and tied them over her feet, chattering all the while.
"How old are you, Lu? I been bleeding for four years but I ain't having nobody's baby. Won't catch me sweating milk cause...""I know," said Sethe. "You going to Boston."At noon they saw it; then they were near enough to hear it. By late afternoon they could drink fromit if they wanted to. Four stars were visible by the time they found, not a riverboat to stow Setheaway on, or a ferryman willing to take on a fugitive passenger — nothing like that — but a wholeboat to steal. It had one oar, lots of holes and two bird nests.
"There you go, Lu. Jesus looking at you."Sethe was looking at one mile of dark water, which would have to be split with one oar in a uselessboat against a current dedicated to the Mississippi hundreds of miles away. It looked like home toher, and the baby (not dead in the least) must have thought so too. As soon as Sethe got close to theriver her own water broke loose to join it. The break, followed by the redundant announcement oflabor, arched her back.
"What you doing that for?" asked Amy. "Ain't you got a brain in your head? Stop that right now. Isaid stop it, Lu. You the dumbest thing on this here earth. Lu! Lu!"Sethe couldn't think of anywhere to go but in. She waited for the sweet beat that followed the blastof pain. On her knees again, she crawled into the boat. It waddled under her and she had justenough time to brace her leaf-bag feet on the bench when another rip took her breath away.
Panting under four summer stars, she threw her legs over the sides, because here come the head, asAmy informed her as though she did not know it — as though the rip was a breakup of walnut logsin the brace, or of lightning's jagged tear through a leather sky.
It was stuck. Face up and drowning in its mother's blood. Amy stopped begging Jesus and began tocurse His daddy.
"Push!" screamed Amy.
"Pull," whispered Sethe.
And the strong hands went to work a fourth time, none too soon, for river water, seeping throughany hole it chose, was spreading over Sethe's hips. She reached one arm back and grabbed the ropewhile Amy fairly clawed at the head. When a foot rose from the river bed and kicked the bottom ofthe boat and Sethe's behind, she knew it was done and permitted herself a short faint. Coming to,she heard no cries, just Amy's encouraging coos. Nothing happened for so long they both believedthey had lost it. Sethe arched suddenly and the afterbirth shot out. Then the baby whimpered andSethe looked. Twenty inches of cord hung from its belly and it trembled in the cooling evening air.
Amy wrapped her skirt around it and the wet sticky women clambered ashore to see what, indeed,God had in mind.
Spores of bluefern growing in the hollows along the riverbank float toward the water in silver-bluelines hard to see unless you are in or near them, lying right at the river's edge when the sunshotsare low and drained. Often they are mistook for insects — but they are seeds in which the wholegeneration sleeps confident of a future. And for a moment it is easy to believe each one has one —will become all of what is contained in the spore: will live out its days as planned. This moment ofcertainty lasts no longer than that; longer, perhaps, than the spore itself.
On a riverbank in the cool of a summer evening two women struggled under a shower of silveryblue. They never expected to see each other again in this world and at the moment couldn't careless. But there summer night surrounded by bluefern they did something togetherappropriatelyandwe(on) ll.(a) A pateroller passing would have sniggered to see two throw-away people,two lawless outlaws — a slave and a barefoot whitewoman with unpinned hair — wrapping a tenminute-old baby in the rags they wore. But no pateroller came and no preacher. The water suckedand swallowed itself beneath them. There was nothing to disturb them at their work. So they did itappropriately and well.
Twilight came on and Amy said she had to go; that she wouldn't be caught dead in daylight on abusy river with a runaway. After rinsing her hands and face in the river, she stood and lookeddown at the baby wrapped and tied to Sethe's chest.
