the women. The sailors didn’t speak their language, but they figured things out right quick. The women showed that they were willing to slice the throat of any man that came close or, if need be, they’d slice their own throats before they would submit. So the sailors closed the hatch and locked it.
CJM : They left them without food or water?
Dovey Murdock : Yep. And let’s not be prissy. They left them without so much as a slop jar. For days.
CJM : Good God.
Dovey Murdock : I don’t know what God had to do with putting them in that situation, but He must have watched over them. I don’t know anything else that could have turned the hearts of men like that. Because, soon enough, they started lowering plates of food through the hatch, which would have been a good thing, except the women refused to eat it.
CJM : Well, Miss Dovey, you’ve got me stumped. If those women starved themselves to death and rotted down in the hold of that ship, where did the Sujosa come from?
Miss Dovey : My Mamaw said that they laid there in the filth and tried to die, but it takes a lot to kill a young, strong body. One day, they heard a noise that they later learned was the sound of the anchor dropping. The ship was still, without the rolling and rocking that had made the days such a misery. It was their first taste of the calm of a safe harbor. Then the sailors crept down the ladder with bowls of water and plates piled with fruits the women had never seen before. They fed them with their own rough seafarers’ hands, because the women were too weak by now to resist, and they sang to them in a language the women didn’t know. The men had fallen in love with their captives’ pride and spirit. In time, the sailors earned their love in return.
CJM : I wonder if that’s where the Sujosa got the gene for blue eyes.
Dovey Murdock : It might well be. But that’s hardly the important part of the story. My Mamaw told me to mark her words well: In the darkest of times, our women had the good sense to hold on to everything they had with them. ’Twasn’t nothing but their water jars and the clothes on their backs, but those jars held their salvation and their fortune. Mamaw said I should never go to a man empty-handed. A woman with property can’t be ruled.
CJM (who doesn’t want to be ruled and is thus sternly reminding herself to open up a retirement account) : Do you remember your Mamaw’s songs? Lord, I’d love to know what those sailors sang to your ancestors.
Dovey Murdock : Pshaw. Mamaw couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. But Papaw could. I should have told you about him, too. He was a year or two older than Mamaw. ( Interviewer’s note: Must remember to look for the fountain of youth, then funnel lots and lots of money into that retirement account.) By the time I came along, Papaw didn’t do much but sit in a rocking chair and sing to himself. I just remember one of his songs, and only part of that. He called it Henry’s Song, but his name was Henry, so that might not have been its real name. I’ll sing it, if you like.
CJM : By all means.
Dovey Murdock (singing) :
Grudge who will, but none deny
So God be pleased, this life will I.
I love and shall until I die.
I am black, Jerusalem
Just as the curtains of Saloman.
I am black, but comely, still
I love and shall until I die.
A jealous love, but comely, aye
I’ll love thee best until I die
Grudge who will, but none deny
So God be pleased until I die.
Dovey Murdock (speaking) : That’s a nice song, isn’t it, child? It gives a nice lesson, and there’s nothing an old schoolteacher likes better than a lesson. The world would be a nicer place if all people lived to please God and loved each other, too, while they were at it. Can I get you a slice of pound cake?
Chapter Ten
Faye’s nerves woke her Monday morning before dawn. In two hours, she would be meeting her field crew. Ready or not, she would be the boss. She flopped over onto her back and sighed.
Not
CJM : They left them without food or water?
Dovey Murdock : Yep. And let’s not be prissy. They left them without so much as a slop jar. For days.
CJM : Good God.
Dovey Murdock : I don’t know what God had to do with putting them in that situation, but He must have watched over them. I don’t know anything else that could have turned the hearts of men like that. Because, soon enough, they started lowering plates of food through the hatch, which would have been a good thing, except the women refused to eat it.
CJM : Well, Miss Dovey, you’ve got me stumped. If those women starved themselves to death and rotted down in the hold of that ship, where did the Sujosa come from?
Miss Dovey : My Mamaw said that they laid there in the filth and tried to die, but it takes a lot to kill a young, strong body. One day, they heard a noise that they later learned was the sound of the anchor dropping. The ship was still, without the rolling and rocking that had made the days such a misery. It was their first taste of the calm of a safe harbor. Then the sailors crept down the ladder with bowls of water and plates piled with fruits the women had never seen before. They fed them with their own rough seafarers’ hands, because the women were too weak by now to resist, and they sang to them in a language the women didn’t know. The men had fallen in love with their captives’ pride and spirit. In time, the sailors earned their love in return.
CJM : I wonder if that’s where the Sujosa got the gene for blue eyes.
Dovey Murdock : It might well be. But that’s hardly the important part of the story. My Mamaw told me to mark her words well: In the darkest of times, our women had the good sense to hold on to everything they had with them. ’Twasn’t nothing but their water jars and the clothes on their backs, but those jars held their salvation and their fortune. Mamaw said I should never go to a man empty-handed. A woman with property can’t be ruled.
CJM (who doesn’t want to be ruled and is thus sternly reminding herself to open up a retirement account) : Do you remember your Mamaw’s songs? Lord, I’d love to know what those sailors sang to your ancestors.
Dovey Murdock : Pshaw. Mamaw couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. But Papaw could. I should have told you about him, too. He was a year or two older than Mamaw. ( Interviewer’s note: Must remember to look for the fountain of youth, then funnel lots and lots of money into that retirement account.) By the time I came along, Papaw didn’t do much but sit in a rocking chair and sing to himself. I just remember one of his songs, and only part of that. He called it Henry’s Song, but his name was Henry, so that might not have been its real name. I’ll sing it, if you like.
CJM : By all means.
Dovey Murdock (singing) :
Grudge who will, but none deny
So God be pleased, this life will I.
I love and shall until I die.
I am black, Jerusalem
Just as the curtains of Saloman.
I am black, but comely, still
I love and shall until I die.
A jealous love, but comely, aye
I’ll love thee best until I die
Grudge who will, but none deny
So God be pleased until I die.
Dovey Murdock (speaking) : That’s a nice song, isn’t it, child? It gives a nice lesson, and there’s nothing an old schoolteacher likes better than a lesson. The world would be a nicer place if all people lived to please God and loved each other, too, while they were at it. Can I get you a slice of pound cake?
Chapter Ten
Faye’s nerves woke her Monday morning before dawn. In two hours, she would be meeting her field crew. Ready or not, she would be the boss. She flopped over onto her back and sighed.
Not
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