Chapter 51
is my sister. I swallowed her blood right along with my mother's milk. The first thing I heard afternot hearing anything was the sound of her crawling up the stairs. She was my secret company untilPaul D came. He threw her out. Ever since I was little she was my company and she helped mewait for my daddy. Me and her waited for him. I love my mother but I know she killed one of herown daughters, and tender as she is with me, I'm scared of her because of it. She missed killing mybrothers and they knew it. They told me die-witch! stories to show me the way to do it, if ever Ineeded to. Maybe it was getting that close to dying made them want to fight the War. That's whatthey told me they were going to do. I guess they rather be around killing men than killing women,and there sure is something in her that makes it all right to kill her own. All the time, I'm afraid thething that happened that made it all right for my mother to kill my sister could happen again. Idon't know what it is, I don't know who it is, but maybe there is something else terrible enough tomake her do it again. I need to know what that thing might be, but I don't want to. Whatever it is, itcomes from outside this house, outside the yard, and it can come right on in the yard if it wants to.
So I never leave this house and I watch over the yard, so it can't happen again and my motherwon't have to kill me too. Not since Miss Lady Jones' house have I left 124 by myself. Never. Theonly other times — two times in all — I was with my mother. Once to see Grandma Baby putdown next to Beloved, she's my sister. The other time Paul D went too and when we came back Ithought the house would still be empty from when he threw my sister's ghost out. But no. When Icame back to 124, there she was. Beloved. Waiting for me. Tired from her long journey back.
Ready to be taken care of; ready for me to protect her. This time I have to keep my mother awayfrom her. That's hard, but I have to. It's all on me. I've seen my mother in a dark place, withscratching noises. A smell coming from her dress. I have been with her where something littlewatched us from the corners. And touched. Sometimes they touched. I didn't remember it for along time until Nelson Lord made me. I asked her if it was true but couldn't hear what she said andthere was no point in going back to Lady Jones if you couldn't hear what anybody said. So quiet.
Made me have to read faces and learn how to figure out what people were thinking, so I didn'tneed to hear what they said. That's how come me and Beloved could play together. Not talking. Onthe porch. By the creek. In the secret house. It's all on me, now, but she can count on me. I thoughtshe was trying to kill her that day in the Clearing. Kill her back. But then she kissed her neck and Ihave to warn her about that. Don't love her too much. Don't. Maybe it's still in her the thing thatmakes it all right to kill her children. I have to tell her. I have to protect her.
She cut my head off every night. Buglar and Howard told me she would and she did. Her prettyeyes looking at me like I was a stranger. Not mean or anything, but like I was somebody she foundand felt sorry for. Like she didn't want to do it but she had to and it wasn't going to hurt. That itwas just a thing grown-up people do — like pull a splinter out your hand; touch the corner of atowel in your eye if you get a cinder in it. She looks over at Buglar and Howard — see if they allright. Then she comes over to my side. I know she'll be good at it, careful. That when she cuts itoff it'll be done right; it won't hurt. After she does it I lie there for a minute with just my head.
Then she carries it downstairs to braid my hair. I try not to cry but it hurts so much to comb it.
When she finishes the combing and starts the braiding, I get sleepy. I want to go to sleep but Iknow if I do I won't wake up. So I have to stay awake while she finishes my hair, then I can sleep.
The scary part is waiting for her to come in and do it. Not when she does it, but when I wait for her to. Only place she can't get to me in the night is Grandma Baby's room. The room we sleep inupstairs used to be where the help slept when whitepeople lived here. They had a kitchen outside,too. But Grandma Baby turned it into a woodshed and toolroom when she moved in. And sheboarded up the back door that led to it because she said she didn't want to make that journey nomore. She built around it to make a storeroom, so if you want to get in 124 you have to come byher. Said she didn't care what folks said about her fixing a two story house up like a cabin whereyou cook inside. She said they told her visitors with nice dresses don't want to sit in the same roomwith the cook stove and the peelings and the grease and the smoke. She wouldn't pay them nomind, she said. I was safe at night in there with her. All I could hear was me breathing butsometimes in the day I couldn't tell whether it was me breathing or somebody next to me. I used towatch Here Boy's stomach go in and out, in and out, to see if it matched mine, holding my breathto get off his rhythm, releasing it to get on. Just to see whose it was — that sound like when youblow soft in a bottle only regular, regular. Am I making that sound? Is Howard? Who is? That waswhen everybody was quiet and I couldn't hear anything they said. I didn't care either because thequiet let me dream my daddy better. I always knew he was coming. Something was holding himup. He had a problem with the horse. The river flooded; the boat sank and he had to make a newone. Sometimes it was a lynch mob or a windstorm. He was coming and it was a secret. I spent allof my outside self loving Ma'am so she wouldn't kill me, loving her even when she braided myhead at night. I never let her know my daddy was coming for me. Grandma Baby thought he wascoming, too. For a while she thought so, then she stopped. I never did. Even when Buglar andHoward ran away. Then Paul D came in here. I heard his voice downstairs, and Ma'am laughing,so I thought it was him, my daddy. Nobody comes to this house anymore. But when I gotdownstairs it was Paul D and he didn't come for me; he wanted my mother. At first. Then hewanted my sister, too, but she got him out of here and I'm so glad he's gone. Now it's just us and Ican protect her till my daddy gets here to help me watch out for Ma'am and anything come in theyard. My daddy do anything for runny fried eggs. Dip his bread in it. Grandma used to tell me histhings. She said anytime she could make him a plate of soft fried eggs was Christmas, made him sohappy. She said she was always a little scared of my daddy. He was too good, she said. From thebeginning, she said, he was too good for the world. Scared her. She thought, He'll never make itthrough nothing. Whitepeople must have thought so too, because they never got split up. So shegot the chance to know him, look after him, and he scared her the way he loved things. Animalsand tools and crops and the alphabet. He could count on paper. The boss taught him. Offered toteach the other boys but only my daddy wanted it. She said the other boys said no. One of themwith a number for a name said it would change his mind — make him forget things he shouldn'tand memorize things he shouldn't and he didn't want his mind messed up. But my daddy said, Ifyou can't count they can cheat you. If you can't read they can beat you. They thought that wasfunny. Grandma said she didn't know, but it was because my daddy could count on paper andfigure that he bought her away from there. And she said she always wished she could read theBible like real preachers. So it was good for me to learn how, and I did until it got quiet and all Icould hear was my own breathing and one other who knocked over the milk jug while it wassitting on the table. Nobody near it. Ma'am whipped Buglar but he didn't touch it. Then it messedup all the ironed clothes and put its hands in the cake. Look like I was the only one who knew rightaway who it was. Just like when she came back I knew who she was too. Not right away, but soonas she spelled her name — not her given name, but the one Ma'am paid the stonecutter for — I knew. And when she wondered about Ma'am's earrings — something I didn't know about — well,that just made the cheese more binding: my sister come to help me wait for my daddy. My daddywas an angel man. He could look at you and tell where you hurt and he could fix it too. He made ahanging thing for Grandma Baby, so she could pull herself up from the floor when she woke up inthe morning, and he made a step so when she stood up she was level. Grandma said she wasalways afraid a whiteman would knock her down in front of her children. She behaved and dideverything right in front of her children because she didn't want them to see her knocked down.
She said it made children crazy to see that. At Sweet Home nobody did or said they would, so mydaddy never saw it there and never went crazy and even now I bet he's trying to get here. If Paul Dcould do it my daddy could too. Angel man. We should all be together. Me, him and Beloved.
Ma'am could stay or go off with Paul D if she wanted to. Unless Daddy wanted her himself, but Idon't think he would now, since she let Paul D in her bed. Grandma Baby said people look downon her because she had eight children with different men. Coloredpeople and whitepeople bothlook down on her for that. Slaves not supposed to have pleasurable feelings on their own; theirbodies not supposed to be like that, but they have to have as many children as they can to pleasewhoever owned them. Still, they were not supposed to have pleasure deep down. She said for menot to listen to all that. That I should always listen to my body and love it.
Chapter 52
The secret house. When she died I went there. Ma'am wouldn't let me go outside in the yard andeat with the others. We stayed inside. That hurt. I know Grandma Baby would have liked the partyand the people who came to it, because she got low not seeing anybody or going anywhere — justgrieving and thinking about colors and how she made a mistake. That what she thought about whatthe heart and the body could do was wrong. The whitepeople came anyway. In her yard. She haddone everything right and they came in her yard anyway. And she didn't know what to think. Allshe had left was her heart and they busted it so even the War couldn't rouse her.
She told me all my daddy's things. How hard he worked to buy her. After the cake was ruined andthe ironed clothes all messed up, and after I heard my sister crawling up the stairs to get back toher bed, she told me my things too. That I was charmed. My birth was and I got saved all the time.
And that I shouldn't be afraid of the ghost. It wouldn't harm me because I tasted its blood whenMa'am nursed me. She said the ghost was after Ma'am and her too for not doing anything to stop it.
But it would never hurt me. I just had to watch out for it because it was a greedy ghost and neededa lot of love, which was only natural, considering. And I do. Love her. I do. She played with meand always came to be with me whenever I needed her. She's mine, Beloved. She's mine.
I AM and she is mine. I see her take flowers away from leaves she puts them in a round basket theleaves are not for her she fills the basket she opens the grass I would help her but the clouds are inthe way how can I say things that are pictures I am not separate from her there is no place where Istop her face is my own and I want to be there in the place where her face is and to be looking at ittoo a hot thing All of it is now it is always now there will never be a time when I am not crouchingand watching others who are crouching too I am always crouching the man on my face is dead hisface is not mine his mouth smells sweet but his eyes are locked some who eat nasty themselves Ido not eat the men without skin bring us their morning water to drink we have none at night Icannot see the dead man on my face daylight comes through the cracks and I can see his locked eyes I am not big small rats do not wait for us to sleep someone is thrashing but there is no room todo it in if we had more to drink we could make tears we cannot make sweat or morning water sothe men without skin bring us theirs one time they bring us sweet rocks to suck we are all trying toleave our bodies behind the man on my face has done it it is hard to make yourself die forever yousleep short and then return in the beginning we could vomit now we do not now we cannot histeeth are pretty white points someone is trembling I can feel it over here he is fighting hard to leavehis body which is a small bird trembling there is no room to tremble so he is not able to die myown dead man is pulled away from my face I miss his pretty white points We are not crouchingnow we are standing but my legs are like my dead man's eyes I cannot fall because there is noroom to the men without skin are making loud noises I am not dead the bread is sea-colored I amtoo hungry to eat it the sun closes my eyes those able to die are in a pile I cannot find my man theone whose teeth I have loved a hot thing the little hill of dead people a hot thing the men withoutskin push them through with poles the woman is there with the face I want the face that is minethey fall into the sea which is the color of the bread she has nothing in her ears if I had the teeth ofthe man who died on my face I would bite the circle around her neck bite it away I know she doesnot like it now there is room to crouch and to watch the crouching others it is the crouching that isnow always now inside the woman with my face is in the sea a hot thing In the beginning I couldsee her I could not help her because the clouds were in the way in the beginning I could see her theshining in her ears she does not like the circle around her neck I know this I look hard at her so shewill know that the clouds are in the way I am sure she saw me I am looking at her see me sheempties out her eyes I am there in the place where her face is and telling her the noisy clouds werein my way she wants her earrings she wants her round basket I want her face a hot thing in thebeginning the women are away from the men and the men are away from the women storms rockus and mix the men into the women and the women into the men that is when I begin to be on theback of the man for a long time I see only his neck and his wide shoulders above me I am small Ilove him because he has a song when he turned around to die I see the teeth he sang through hissinging was soft his singing is of the place where a woman takes flowers away from their leavesand puts them in a round basket before the clouds she is crouching near us but I do not see her untilhe locks his eyes and dies on my face we are that way there is no breath coming from his mouthand the place where breath should be is sweet-smelling the others do not know he is dead I knowhis song is gone now I love his pretty little teeth instead I cannot lose her again my dead man wasin the way like the noisy clouds when he dies on my face I can see hers she is going to smile at meshe is going to her sharp earrings are gone the men without skin are making loud noises they pushmy own man through they do not push the woman with my face through she goes in they do notpush her she goes in the little hill is gone she was going to smile at me she was going to a hot thingThey are not crouching now we are they are floating on the water they break up the little hill andpush it through I cannot find my pretty teeth I see the dark face that is going to smile at me it is mydark face that is going to smile at me the iron circle is around our neck she does not have sharpearrings in her ears or a round basket she goes in the water with my face I am standing in the rainfalling the others are taken I am not taken I am falling like the rain is I watch him eat inside I amcrouching to keep from falling with the rain I am going to be in pieces he hurts where I sleep heputs his finger there I drop the food and break into pieces she took my face away there is no one towant me to say me my name I wait on the bridge because she is under it there is night and there isday again again night day night day I am waiting no iron circle is around my neck no boats go on this water no men without skin my dead man is not floating here his teeth are down there where theblue is and the grass so is the face I want the face that is going to smile at me it is going to in theday diamonds are in the water where she is and turtles in the night I hear chewing and swallowingand laughter it belongs to me she is the laugh I am the laugher I see her face which is mine it is theface that was going to smile at me in the place where we crouched now she is going to her facecomes through the water a hot thing her face is mine she is not smiling she is chewing andswallowing I have to have my face I go in the grass opens she opens it I am in the water and she iscoming there is no round basket no iron circle around her neck she goes up where the diamondsare I follow her we are in the diamonds which are her earrings now my face is coming I have tohave it I am looking for the join I am loving my face so much my dark face is close to me I want tojoin she whispers to me she whispers I reach for her chewing and swallowing she touches me sheknows I want to join she chews and swallows me I am gone now I am her face my own face hasleft me I see me swim away a hot thing I see the bottoms of my feet I am alone I want to be thetwo of us I want the join I come out of blue water after the bottoms of my feet swim away from meI come up I need to find a place to be the air is heavy I am not dead I am not there is a house thereis what she whispered to me I am where she told me I am not dead I sit the sun closes my eyeswhen I open them I see the face I lost Sethe's is the face that lef me Sethe sees me see her and I seethe smile her smiling face is the place for me it is the face I lost she is my face smiling at me doingit at last a hot thing now we can join a hot thing.
