Of Love and Dust by Ernest J. Gaines

ought to get somebody to walk home with her, but she told Tick-Tock that she had left the gallery light on and she would be all right.
    Just after Pauline walked out of the house a squabble broke out in the room where the men were gambling. It sounded like somebody had overturned the gambling table. Then it sounded like somebody picked up somebody else and slammed him against the wall. There was a lot of tussling in there a while, then everybody came out. They were still arguing but nobody was throwing any punches. That is, nobody threw a punch until Marcus came in there and hit Murphy Bacheron up ’side the head.
    But I’m getting a little ahead of myself here. I was talking about Pauline. As she went out of the yard, who should she see coming down the quarter but Marcus. I wasn’t there, I didn’t see it, but Aunt Ca’line and Pa Bully were still on the gallery, and Aunt Ca’line talked about it later. Josie’s gallery light was on and Pauline’s gallery light was on, so Aunt Ca’line could see the two people coming toward each other. They came closer and closer, and Aunt Ca’line could see how Pauline was moving toward the ditch to get out of his way. But Marcus moved there, too. Then they stopped. Pauline wanted to pass by but Marcus wouldn’t let her. They were standing just outside the fence, and Aunt Ca’line could hear them talking.
    “Let me pass, Marcus,” Pauline was saying. “I’m telling you, now.”
    “What he got on you?” Marcus said. “What’s the matter with you, woman?”
    “I’m telling you, let me pass,” Pauline said.
    “What’s the matter with you?” he said. “I been working up there all night like a slave, like a dog—and all on ’count of him. What’s the matter with you?”
    “I’m telling you,” she said. “Let me pass.”
    He moved closer.
    “Don’t you put your hands on me,” she said. “I mean it, don’t you put your hands on me, you killer.”
    He hit her and knocked her down. She got up.
    “If I tell him, he’ll kill you for this. He’ll kill you.”
    “You white man bitch,” he said. He hit her again. She fell again.
    “Leave that woman ’lone, boy,” Pa Bully hollered at him.
    “Mr. Grant,” Aunt Ca’line said, warningly.
    “You hear me out there, boy?” Pa Bully called.
    Pauline was up again.
    “You bitch,” Marcus said to her. “You bloody whore.”
    She was running toward the gate now.
    “You whore,” he called to her.
    She was running in the yard now. She ran in the house and locked the door. He stood there a while looking at the house; then he went on.
    When Marcus came into Josie’s house, everything stopped. Everybody stopped dancing, everybody stopped talking—they stopped everything to look at him. They hadn’t heard the noise outside, but they had heard about him. And now here he was in person.
    Marcus pushed his way back into the kitchen. He wore a pair of white pants and a blue silk shirt. He wore a brown plaited-cloth belt round his waist. He had on black and white shoes.
    “What you know, buddy?” I said to him.
    “Give me a beer,” he said to Josie.
    “I’m out,” Josie said.
    He didn’t believe she was out. He thought she didn’t want to sell him any.
    “She’s out,” I said.
    “What you got?” Marcus said. “Give me some whiskey. You want anything?” he asked me.
    “I’ll take a shot,” I said.
    “Give me some whiskey,” he told Josie.
    Josie got the bottle out of the safe and poured me and him a shot.
    “Fifty cents,” she said.
    Marcus paid her. Then he downed his drink quickly and asked for another one.
    “You want another one?” he asked me.
    “No,” I said. “This is good.”
    “Just took that for old buddy sake, huh?” he said.
    “Take it easy, boy,” I said.
    “Fuck it,” he said.
    “I don’t like that kind of talk in here,” Josie said.
    “No?” Marcus said.
    “No,” Josie said, looking hard at him and meaning it. And she had that bottle in her hand to back her