—Me never want her dead.
—Say dat over and over till it turn into sankey and yuh soon start believe it. Now leggo me fuckin’ hair before you start spit pussy blood too!
Lilith let her go and watch Gorgon run off down the little road at the back of the house and disappear in the Christmas colour. Lilith trying to not ponder. She did come with guilt pack tight like a bundle of clothes to throw on Gorgon, but Gorgon throw it back on her. She turn round to go and there, waiting behind her be the Johnny-jumpers. Lilith try to run but everywhere she turn, she run into a Johnny-jumper chest that heave from shouting and cussing. Every turn she make, a hand grabbing for her hair or her neck or her titties. And they shouting and cussing. Lilith too frighten to look at any face. She just want to get away from the bare chest and nasty hands. And they cussing. They calling her murderess and witch and pussy-eye and they chests and they hands get closer and closer until one hand round her neck. Lilith hear a woman cackle but no womens be in they number.
—You’s thinks you was goin’ gets ’way after you kills me brotha, you cow? he say.
He shorter and fatter than the others. Him hair plait in two and curl under him ear like ram goat horn. Niggers still making up ruckus and the Christmas celebrating take up all the air so no room left for a scream. Lilith thinking that mayhaps if she imagine that she is Circe and if they don’t beat her too much she can make the sounds that Circe make and do what she hear Circe doing. Mayhaps the first punch would knock her out and she wouldn’t have to feel anything and she would wake when they done or when the last one pull out. Or mayhaps she would wake up and they would be long gone and Homer would clean her and tell what to do with her pussy now that man force her to become woman. Mayhaps after this they would leave her alone and then she can walk without looking behind her and maybe Homer won’t leave her in the cellar no more and maybe the massa would see her and maybe she would know what freedom be for the niggerwoman. Mayhaps the way to go from this very day to the next wasn’t around, nor above or behind, but through. Through this. Lilith close her eye to take what God goin’ give her. The hand still round her neck and the Johnny-jumpers still laughing. Lilith thinking that if she be an agreeable niggerwoman things might end up better for her. She think that she thinking the way big woman supposed to think. Big woman who get wise about what every niggerman want. Not looking at any of the mens, Lilith pull down her dress so that her bosom pop out. The goat-horn nigger slap her.
—Whats you’s doin? We no comes to fuck you. We comes to kills you.
The goat-horn nigger grab Lilith by the wrist and start to drag her away from the sound of Christmas. Lilith trip and fall and the man drag her same way. Lilith feel the dirt scraping her skin and every stone cutting through her dress. Every time she scream it vanish into the Christmas. She claw the man with her nails and he turn around and slap her ’cross her face. Lilith bawling. Her foot kicking up dust. Round behind a tree he stop and pull her up. The goat-horn nigger pull out a dagger that sharp till it pointed.—Ah goin’ tek you titty shove in you mouth and you tongue shove in you arse, he say and scrape Lilith chest. The other niggers follow but then the goat-horn nigger stop. He buckle over, taking Lilith with him, and start hack and cough. He let go of Lilith and she can’t move even though she crying. Then he clutch him belly and vomit burst like waterfall from him mouth. He stumble and roll in the dirt.
—Lef me alone! Lef—L—Lef me alone!
Lilith frighten as she watch the man rolling ’bout in the dirt like he getting kick by the devil.
—Lef me alone! Lef me alone! he say.
The other Johnny-jumpers step back slow from Lilith, then when they a good distance, run off. The goat-horn man stop coughing and get up. He look at Lilith and spit. He cough again and stagger off, tripping two time before he can run. Lilith look round for her, but see nobody. She run back to the house and hide in the cellar.
Six day till
the New Year’s ball. Robert Quinn don’t feel like goin’ in to town to rouse the slave trader for new negro and Miss Isobel don’t have time to train any new negro on how to wait on people of refined social graces like the governor and Lady Nugent. One morning Lilith wake up to find a blue uniform beside her mat. Homer be waiting on her to wake up.—Andromeda bigger than you, so you better beg Pallas to take in the waist and hem the foot, she say and leave Lilith alone. Lilith look around the cellar, then she grab the dress like is her own pickney. Lilith jump up and put the dress to her chest and hold out the sleeve like a woman hand and commence to waltz. Not until she spin the third time that she see Robert Quinn watching her from the top of the stairs that lead down to the cellar.
—Pleased the dress meets yer approval, he say, then turn away.
12
SINCE MISS ISOBEL START COME EVERY DAY TO ARRANGE THE ball, Lilith don’t see Massa Humphrey much. She get up early in the dawn and brew the tea and sit and wait for the sound of him boots staggering through the kitchen. Homer and Pallas keep telling Lilith that she be woman now and Lilith try hard to understand woman things. One time Pallas was talking ’bout a field nigger name Bellerophon and she talk ’bout how her own face flush and her heart beat fast and heavy and how plenty people just look at the two of them and know that something sweet be burnin’. You just know when you see some people, she say. Something that make you know that two body be of one head or spirit, even. When a man sweet for a woman and a woman sweet for a man, even slavery don’t seem so bitter. Lilith look for sweetness every time she see Massa Humphrey and Miss Isobel together.
It come to pass one morning that Massa Humphrey walk through the kitchen door. The horse whinny and the door open but is the shouting that wake her. Lilith jump when she hear him stomp into the kitchen asking for that bewitching tea and the negress who make it. She go up the stairs to see him staggering round the kitchen, grabbing the counter to steady himself.
—Damn it, an utter mess I am! A man of the most worthless sort, he say. He steady himself by the table and throw himself into a chair.
—Quinn! Where the blazes . . . where’s Quinn? Only Quinn knows... he knows what to do.
The massa ask two more time before Lilith realise that he was talking to her.
—Good lord, I can barely stand.... What hour is this, I wonder? Homer? Where’s Homer? I . . . I can’t have her see me like . . . Homer?
Lilith get into action. She work up a fire while the massa try not to fall back over in him chair. She listen to him talking about how he should not have gone carousing without Quinn. How Quinn is him conscience and him better man and the man who God has placed to save him from himself.
—Damn that man, he say out loud.
Lilith put the kettle on the stove and reach in Homer cupboard, the one that nobody go into, and grab the little brown sack that she think have comfrey tea. But she don’t know. Lilith perplex. A woman like Homer could have any kind of bush. Bush to make you happy or sad, sick or well. Lilith don’t know. Maybe brown be a good colour, and maybe she wouldn’t keep the evil bush right in front. Maybe she put it in front just to spite whoever come to rob her. Maybe she should just mix him regular green tea. But he slump in the chair and don’t know what to do with himself and the usual company coming for breakfast. Maybe if she help him, save him, he would look at her different. Not special, only different. Lilith thinking that she must think clearer.
—I’s gone fix you up, massa, she say, but quiet and not to him. Lilith can’t think of addressing the massa directly, certainly not without he asking first and even then the word slip out like little gasps. Massa Humphrey hair too fiery, him eye too blue, him shoulder too strong and him close-cut breeches hiding nothing. Lilith look away and listen to him breathing slow. She put back the brown sack and pull out a burlap bag. It smell of fever grass, the tea that bring peace to a troubled mind or belly. Or ginger. She hope. She put the bag back. Massa Humphrey nodding. She find tea in a purple bag next to a bottle full with white sugar. The kettle start to whistle.
Then a spirit fly up in her head and she don’t know where it come from. The spirit dance in a drumbeat like it come from the Africa. Or mayhaps it be something she remember. Or mayhaps it be something Homer say to Pallas or Pallas say to Gorgon or one house nigger say to the other. A woman get whipped or killed if they even suspect her of Obeah. But the voice was a beat that match her heart.
Collect it, collect it quick,
she say.
When that hour come, that hour in the month, the time of womanness. Collect it in a jar and when nobody looking, mix it in him dark tea or peas soup. As soon as he drink it, he bound to love you and forsake all other. He goin’ love you till love turn him into fool.
—For the massa to drink, she say, but him already get up to leave. Lilith feel to slap herself for thinking what she not to think, but then he stagger again and grab the door before he fall. She run and put him arm over her shoulder. He heavier than she thought and they both nearly tumble over. But then she steady him by bracing her feet and they hobble upstairs. Midway they almost crash in the banister. He grind her toe with him boot and Lilith gnash her teeth to kill the yell. The next step nearly throw both of them to the ground, but she grab the banister in time. All the time he mumbling. They go, one tricky step at a time, up the stairs and Lilith wishing that Homer don’t wake up. Him arm over her shoulder and she smelling him new, smelling the massa in a way that most nigger will never get to smell. She smelling old sweat and perfume and what must be liquor after the sweetness start to sour the breath. In the room Massa Humphrey throw himself on the bed, taking Lilith with him. Lilith feel herself sink into the sheet and into him. She thinking to stay but get up when she realise he mumbling again. As she rise him hand slide off her shoulder.
—Gifted as my clothes may be, they can’t undress themsel . . . he say. Lilith hesitate. Then she step closer to the bed, but hesitate again.
—Get on with it, he say louder and lift up him right leg.
Lilith not used to no boot shucking and take a long time just to get the boot past the ankle. Massa Humphrey curse and say, Turn the other w . . . way, and twirl him arms until him eye start to swirl and he fall back on the bed. Lilith climb over him leg like she straddling a goat. When she finally shuck the boots off, he sit up again and take him coat off. He point to the cravat and she pull the bow and unwrap, trying not to look at him and thinking he must be looking at her when all of a sudden he lean and bury him face in her belly. Lilith don’t move. Him breath was warming up her dress. Him forehead was right under her breasts. She look down at him wild hair that tempting, begging, commanding her to touch. He go to fall back in the bed and she catch him by the collar. She pull the blouson over him head and try to not look at him chest. Lilith wondering what a woman to do with a man right in front of her. He lean back down on the bed and pull down him breeches himself. Like many a young white man who get season in the colonies, Massa Humphrey don’t fuss with underpants. Massa Humphrey climb on the bed and fling himself between a mountain of pillow.
—Good night, Lilith, is it not? Lilith? the massa say underneath the pillow.
—Y-yes, massa. Lilith them call me.
—Lilith. Liiiilith. Liliiiiiiith. Good ni . . .
—Good night, massa, Lilith say and leave the room.
Lilith try not to think too fast, too fast for the negro head. Lilith-Lilith-Lilith he say. He take her name, make song. He know her now. He say her name under the pillow. A whisper before sleep like her name be what come before peace. He call Lilith by her name three time. And he knew who she was in the kitchen and ask for her. And he look at her different, like he regarding a fine bird. And he look longer, so longer that she have to look away first. And he don’t talk to her like he talk to the niggers in the day, but perhaps that just be him dawn voice. He know her name. Lilith slip down the stairs back to the kitchen, drunk on something else.
Opapala in you, the goddess of hunger
, she hear a voice say and look round for Homer.
Nothing.
Now for this whole day
Massa Humphrey mother get back sense. And the woman angry like God at Sodom! Is three day before the New Year’s Eve ball and Lilith hoping Miss Isobel arrive soon to get some of the wrath. Miss Isobel and her chaperone coming late for breakfast. Massa Humphrey, who she put to bed mere hours ago, still sleeping. The mistress up and running round the house wondering who put up these wretched green grotesqueries all over her house. Her voice spitting sense and anger but her near-white hair wild and her dress musty from never been taken off in weeks. She shout to Homer that there was no way a slave could have dared without permission and that she will flog the insolence out of the slave herself, even if it is Homer. Homer fan away her smell and tell her that it be Miss Isobel Roget from Coulibre who come over and change everything on account of the mistress being sick.
—That slattern Laeticia Roget dispatched her daughter here? To do as she chooses in
my
house? In
my
house? the mistress say. She furious now.
—We shall see about that! We
shall
see about that! the mistress shout. The mistress walk ’cross to Massa Humphrey room and don’t bother knock.
—Humphrey! Humphrey! Get up this instant, she say. Plenty negro be near the door to hear the hataclaps.
—Humphrey! Humphrey!
—Mama? Oh sweet heavens, Mama, are you well?
—Clearly not! If this is still my house!
—Have a care, I beg you. Not so much noise.
—I shall be a shrieking harpy if I choose. How dare that hussy’s daughter, that
Frenchwoman
, come into my house and change my things. Is she the mistress of this estate now, is that how you will have it?