Some? Where to? How to go? It was Sixo who brought it up, finally, after Paul F. Mrs. Garner soldhim, trying to keep things up. Already she lived two years off his price. But it ran out, I guess, soshe wrote schoolteacher to come take over. Four Sweet Home men and she still believed sheneeded her brother-in-law and two boys 'cause people said she shouldn't be alone out there withnothing but Negroes. So he came with a big hat and spectacles and a coach box full of paper.
Talking soft and watching hard. He beat Paul A. Not hard and not long, but it was the first timeanyone had, because Mr. Garner disallowed it. Next time I saw him he had company in theprettiest trees you ever saw. Sixo started watching the sky. He was the only one who crept at nightand Halle said that's how he learned about the train.
"That way." Halle was pointing over the stable. "Where he took my ma'am. Sixo say freedom isthat way. A whole train is going and if we can get there, don't need to be no buyout.""Train? What's that?" I asked him.
They stopped talking in front of me then. Even Halle. But they whispered among themselves andSixo watched the sky. Not the high part, the low part where it touched the trees. You could tell hismind was gone from Sweet Home.
The plan was a good one, but when it came time, I was big with Denver. So we changed it a little.
A little. Just enough to butter Halle's face, so Paul D tells me, and make Sixo laugh at last. But Igot you out, baby. And the boys too. When the signal for the train come, you all was the only onesready. I couldn't find Halle or nobody. I didn't know Sixo was burned up and Paul D dressed in acollar you wouldn't believe. Not till later. So I sent you all to the wagon with the woman whowaited in the corn. Ha ha. No notebook for my babies and no measuring string neither. What I hadto get through later I got through because of you. Passed right by those boys hanging in the trees.
One had Paul A's shirt on but not his feet or his head. I walked right on by because only me hadyour milk, and God do what He would, I was going to get it to you. You remember that, don't you;that I did? That when I got here I had milk enough for all?
One more curve in the road, and Sethe could see her chimney; it wasn't lonely-looking anymore.
The ribbon of smoke was from a fire that warmed a body returned to her — just like it never wentaway, never needed a headstone. And the heart that beat inside it had not for a single momentstopped in her hands.
She opened the door, walked in and locked it tight behind her. The day Stamp Paid saw the twobacks through the window and then hurried down the steps, he believed the undecipherablelanguage clamoring around the house was the mumbling of the black and angry dead. Very fewhad died in bed, like Baby Suggs, and none that he knew of, including Baby, had lived a livablelife. Even the educated colored: the long-school people, the doctors, the teachers, the paper-writersand businessmen had a hard row to hoe. In addition to having to use their heads to get ahead, theyhad the weight of the whole race sitting there. You needed two heads for that. Whitepeoplebelieved that whatever the manners, under every dark skin was a jungle. Swift unnavigable waters,swinging screaming baboons, sleeping snakes, red gums ready for their sweet white blood. In a way, he thought, they were right. The more coloredpeople spent their strength trying to convincethem how gentle they were, how clever and loving, how human, the more they used themselves upto persuade whites of something Negroes believed could not be questioned, the deeper and moretangled the jungle grew inside. But it wasn't the jungle blacks brought with them to this place fromthe other (livable) place. It was the jungle whitefolks planted in them. And it grew. It spread. In,through and after life, it spread, until it invaded the whites who had made it. Touched them everyone. Changed and altered them. Made them bloody, silly, worse than even they wanted to be, soscared were they of the jungle they had made. The screaming baboon lived under their own whiteskin; the red gums were their own. Meantime, the secret spread of this new kind of whitefolks'
jungle was hidden, silent, except once in a while when you could hear its mumbling in places like124.
Stamp Paid abandoned his efforts to see about Sethe, after the pain of knocking and not gainingentrance, and when he did, 124 was left to its own devices. When Sethe locked the door, thewomen inside were free at last to be what they liked, see whatever they saw and say whatever wason their minds.
Chapter 49
Almost. Mixed in with the voices surrounding the house, recognizable but undecipherable toStamp Paid, were the thoughts of the women of 124, unspeakable thoughts, unspoken.
, she my daughter. She mine. See. She come back to me of her own free will and I don't have toexplain a thing. I didn't have time to explain before because it had to be done quick. Quick. Shehad to be safe and I put her where she would be. But my love was tough and she back now. I knewshe would be. Paul D ran her off so she had no choice but to come back to me in the flesh. I betyou Baby Suggs, on the other side, helped. I won't never let her go. I'll explain to her, even thoughI don't have to. Why I did it. How if I hadn't killed her she would have died and that is something Icould not bear to happen to her. When I explain it she'll understand, because she understandseverything already. I'll tend her as no mother ever tended a child, a daughter. Nobody will ever getmy milk no more except my own children. I never had to give it to nobody else — and the onetime I did it was took from me — they held me down and took it. Milk that belonged to my baby.
Nan had to nurse whitebabies and me too because Ma'am was in the rice. The little whitebabies gotit first and I got what was left. Or none. There was no nursing milk to call my own. I know what itis to be without the milk that belongs to you; to have to fight and holler for it, and to have so littleleft. i'll tell Beloved about that; she'll understand. She my daughter. The one I managed to havemilk for and to get it to her even after they stole it; after they handled me like I was the cow, no,the goat, back behind the stable because it was too nasty to stay in with the horses. But I wasn't toonasty to cook their food or take care of Mrs. Garner. I tended her like I would have tended my ownmother if she needed me. If they had let her out the rice field, because I was the one she didn'tthrow away. I couldn't have done more for that woman than I would my own ma'am if she was totake sick and need me and I'd have stayed with her till she got well or died. And I would havestayed after that except Nan snatched me back. Before I could check for the sign. It was her allright, but for a long time I didn't believe it. I looked everywhere for that hat. Stuttered after that.
Didn't stop it till I saw Halle. Oh, but that's all over now. I'm here. I lasted. And my girl comehome. Now I can look at things again because she's here to see them too. After the shed, I stopped.
Now, in the morning, when I light the fire I mean to look out the window to see what the sun isdoing to the day. Does it hit the pump handle first or the spigot? See if the grass is gray-green orbrown or what. Now I know why Baby Suggs pondered color her last years. She never had time tosee, let alone enjoy it before. Took her a long time to finish with blue, then yellow, then green. Shewas well into pink when she died. I don't believe she wanted to get to red and I understand whybecause me and Beloved outdid ourselves with it. Matter of fact, that and her pinkish headstonewas the last color I recall. Now I'll be on the lookout. Think what spring will he for us! I'll plantcarrots just so she can see them, and turnips. Have you ever seen one, baby? A prettier thing Godnever made. White and purple with a tender tail and a hard head. Feels good when you hold it inyour hand and smells like the creek when it floods, bitter but happy. We'll smell them together,Beloved. Beloved. Because you mine and I have to show you these things, and teach you what amother should. Funny how you lose sight of some things and memory others. I never will forgetthat whitegirl's hands. Amy. But I forget the color of all that hair on her head. Eyes must have beengray, though. Seem like I do rememory that. Mrs. Garner's was light brown — while she was well.
Got dark when she took sick. A strong woman, used to be. And when she talked off her head, she'dsay it. "I used to be strong as a mule, Jenny." Called me "Jenny" when she was babbling, and I canbear witness to that. Tall and strong. The two of us on a cord of wood was as good as two men.
Hurt her like the devil not to be able to raise her head off the pillow. Still can't figure why shethought she needed schoolteacher, though. I wonder if she lasted, like I did.
Last time I saw her she couldn't do nothing but cry, and I couldn't do a thing for her but wipe herface when I told her what they done to me. Somebody had to know it. Hear it. Somebody. Maybeshe lasted. Schoolteacher wouldn't treat her the way he treated me. First beating I took was the last.
Nobody going to keep me from my children. Hadn't been for me taking care of her maybe I wouldhave known what happened. Maybe Halle was trying to get to me. I stood by her bed waiting forher to finish with the slop jar. Then I got her back in the bed she said she was cold. Hot as blazesand she wanted quilts. Said to shut the window. I told her no. She needed the cover; I needed thebreeze. Long as those yellow curtains flapped, I was all right. Should have heeded her. Maybewhat sounded like shots really was. Maybe I would have seen somebody or something. Maybe.
Anyhow I took my babies to the corn, Halle or no. Jesus. then I heard that woman's rattle. She said,Any more? I told her I didn't know. She said, I been here all night. Can't wait. I tried to make her.
She said, Can't do it. Come on. Hoo! Not a man around. Boys scared. You asleep on my back.
Denver sleep in my stomach. Felt like I was split in two. I told her to take you all; I had to go back.
In case. She just looked at me. Said, Woman? Bit a piece of my tongue off when they opened myback. It was hanging by a shred. I didn't mean to. Clamped down on it, it come right off. I thought,Good God, I'm going to eat myself up. They dug a hole for my stomach so as not to hurt the baby.
Denver don't like for me to talk about it. She hates anything about Sweet Home except how shewas born. But you was there and even if you too young to memory it, I can tell it to you. The grapearbor. You memory that? I ran so fast. Flies beat me to you. I would have known right away whoyou was when the sun blotted out your face the way it did when I took you to the grape arbor. Iwould have known at once when my water broke. The minute I saw you sitting on the stump, itbroke. And when I did see your face it had more than a hint of what you would look like after allthese years. I would have known who you were right away because the cup after cup of water youdrank proved and connected to the fact that you dribbled clear spit on my face the day I got to 124.
Chapter 50
I would have known right off, but Paul D distracted me. Otherwise I would have seen myfingernail prints right there on your forehead for all the world to see. From when I held your headup, out in the shed. And later on, when you asked me about the earrings I used to dangle for you toplay with, I would have recognized you right off, except for Paul D. Seems to me he wanted youout from the beginning, but I wouldn't let him. What you think? And look how he ran when hefound out about me and you in the shed. Too rough for him to listen to. Too thick, he said. My lovewas too thick. What he know about it? Who in the world is he willing to die for? Would he givehis privates to a stranger in return for a carving? Some other way, he said. There must have beensome other way. Let schoolteacher haul us away, I guess, to measure your behind before he tore itup? I have felt what it felt like and nobody walking or stretched out is going to make you feel ittoo. Not you, not none of mine, and when I tell you you mine, I also mean I'm yours I wouldn'tdraw breath without my children. I told Baby Suggs that and she got down on her knees to begGod's pardon for me. Still, it's so. My plan was to take us all to the other side where my ownma'am is. They stopped me from getting us there, but they didn't stop you from getting here. Ha ha.
You came right on back like a good girl, like a daughter which is what I wanted to be and wouldhave been if my ma'am had been able to get out of the rice long enough before they hanged her andlet me be one. You know what? She'd had the bit so many times she smiled. When she wasn'tsmiling she smiled, and I never saw her own smile. I wonder what they was doing when they wascaught. Running, you think? No. Not that. Because she was my ma'am and nobody's ma'am wouldrun off and leave her daughter, would she? Would she, now? Leave her in the yard with a one-armed woman? Even if she hadn't been able to suckle the daughter for more than a week or twoand had to turn her over to another woman's tit that never had enough for all. They said it was thebit that made her smile when she didn't want to. Like the Saturday girls working theslaughterhouse yard. When I came out of jail I saw them plain. They came when the shift changedon Saturday when the men got paid and worked behind the fences, back of the outhouse. Someworked standing up, leaning on the toolhouse door. They gave some of their nickels and dimes tothe foreman as they left but by then their smiles was over. Some of them drank liquor to keep fromfeeling what they felt. Some didn't drink a drop — just beat it on over to Phelps to pay for whattheir children needed, or their ma'ammies. Working a pig yard. That has got to be something for awoman to do, and I got close to it myself when I got out of jail and bought, so to speak, your name.
But the Bodwins got me the cooking job at Sawyer's and left me able to smile on my own like nowwhen I think about you.
But you know all that because you smart like everybody said because when I got here you wascrawling already. Trying to get up the stairs. Baby Suggs had them painted white so you could seeyour way to the top in the dark where lamplight didn't reach. Lord, you loved the stairsteps.
I got close. I got close. To being a Saturday girl. I had already worked a stone mason's shop. A stepto the slaughterhouse would have been a short one. When I put that headstone up I wanted to lay inthere with you, put your head on my shoulder and keep you warm, and I would have if Buglar andHoward and Denver didn't need me, because my mind was homeless then. I couldn't lay down withyou then. No matter how much I wanted to. I couldn't lay down nowhere in peace, back then. NowI can. I can sleep like the drowned, have mercy. She come back to me, my daughter, and she ismine.
