dead at Coulibre with Mr. Roget and that slattern second wife of his? She’s a Frenchwoman in every base sense of the word, the mistress say one day when she get another invitation to a ball.—I swear the cur carries ahead and behind her a fishy fetor! The mistress say this about the father priest who come pray for her—Pray for your own damn soul, you eunuch! Face’s fatter than a pig’s arse.
Other times, the mistress say that good-for-nothing son of hers better get married soon or even she is goin’ to start pronouncing him a sodomite. White woman madness sound like black woman sense and the house slaves find her more agreeable to live with, even though the trouble was more than a handful. But the ball was goin’ to hell and Massa Humphrey huff and puff ’cause he didn’t want to take part in arranging nothing.
—And what in blazes are we supposed to do? Massa Humphrey say in the kitchen, couple days after the mistress’ head take her again. Is morning and he in the kitchen talking to Homer while Robert Quinn drinking tea. Homer dismiss the other negroes for a spell, for she don’t want nobody hearing white people affairs. But Lilith, who was down in the cellar, didn’t get the warning. She climb up the steps but stop when she hear a voice that she never hear up close. Massa Humphrey. She see him plenty time from far but never look at him before. She look at him hair blaze. She lick her bottom lip until it soft, and touch her hair. Lilith look at him as he pace from one end of the kitchen to the next and she rip the breeches off him legs and watch him pacing again. Lilith regarding the massa like she never regard a man before. She don’t know what be the different, if he suddenly get new looks or she suddenly get new eye. She looking at a man who might be a prince or a king, not just a massa. She watch him turn again and stomp up the kitchen like bull. She listen how he voice rise and fall and laugh at Robert Quinn and cuss at Homer. She watch him and try to match them words with them pink lips.
There be two things that a white man can do at once. A white man can save her from the Johnny-jumpers and put her above other negrowomens. A white man like Massa Humphrey can also take her and hold her with the gentle hand that niggerman don’t got and bury him head in her bosom and make him man sound and it wouldn’t be like what she hear coming from Circe hut. Whatever Circe do for tuppence she would be doing something as different as dawn be from dusk. A white man can be a prince or a lord, and whether in the bed or by the pen can free a niggerwoman. This she know because she be a woman now. But there be what she don’t know and would never say, why she need him to look at her but feel to run when he do, why she need him to say something but not to her, and why when Robert Quinn interrupting him, that bastard don’t know him place. Why when breeze blow through him hair she feel hot and why when he smile at a good working nigger she feel hate for that one so bad she could scratch her eyes out. She don’t understand why big woman sense also mix with folly and can’t ask Homer. She watch the massa shiny boots and him breeches and the green waistcoat with flower trim. After that Lilith make every effort to see him, and that was not difficult.
Lilith catch glimpse of Massa Humphrey in the evening as he ride out to see the sunset. Sometimes he and Robert Quinn would come home at dawn, before even Homer wake up, and both mens reeking of rum and whiskey and tobacco and man-stink. Lilith would run between the two as they ignore her and put a kettle on the stove and make tea.
—Toss it all, my memory is as bad as my mum’s, lately. Have I fucked this one? Massa Humphrey say one morning.
—Nay, I can’t say ye have, Quinn say, and both think it so funny that they laugh till they cough. Massa Humphrey push back the chair and lose him balance and fall back to a crash on the floor and both mens laugh even harder.
Other times, the mistress say that good-for-nothing son of hers better get married soon or even she is goin’ to start pronouncing him a sodomite. White woman madness sound like black woman sense and the house slaves find her more agreeable to live with, even though the trouble was more than a handful. But the ball was goin’ to hell and Massa Humphrey huff and puff ’cause he didn’t want to take part in arranging nothing.
—And what in blazes are we supposed to do? Massa Humphrey say in the kitchen, couple days after the mistress’ head take her again. Is morning and he in the kitchen talking to Homer while Robert Quinn drinking tea. Homer dismiss the other negroes for a spell, for she don’t want nobody hearing white people affairs. But Lilith, who was down in the cellar, didn’t get the warning. She climb up the steps but stop when she hear a voice that she never hear up close. Massa Humphrey. She see him plenty time from far but never look at him before. She look at him hair blaze. She lick her bottom lip until it soft, and touch her hair. Lilith look at him as he pace from one end of the kitchen to the next and she rip the breeches off him legs and watch him pacing again. Lilith regarding the massa like she never regard a man before. She don’t know what be the different, if he suddenly get new looks or she suddenly get new eye. She looking at a man who might be a prince or a king, not just a massa. She watch him turn again and stomp up the kitchen like bull. She listen how he voice rise and fall and laugh at Robert Quinn and cuss at Homer. She watch him and try to match them words with them pink lips.
There be two things that a white man can do at once. A white man can save her from the Johnny-jumpers and put her above other negrowomens. A white man like Massa Humphrey can also take her and hold her with the gentle hand that niggerman don’t got and bury him head in her bosom and make him man sound and it wouldn’t be like what she hear coming from Circe hut. Whatever Circe do for tuppence she would be doing something as different as dawn be from dusk. A white man can be a prince or a lord, and whether in the bed or by the pen can free a niggerwoman. This she know because she be a woman now. But there be what she don’t know and would never say, why she need him to look at her but feel to run when he do, why she need him to say something but not to her, and why when Robert Quinn interrupting him, that bastard don’t know him place. Why when breeze blow through him hair she feel hot and why when he smile at a good working nigger she feel hate for that one so bad she could scratch her eyes out. She don’t understand why big woman sense also mix with folly and can’t ask Homer. She watch the massa shiny boots and him breeches and the green waistcoat with flower trim. After that Lilith make every effort to see him, and that was not difficult.
Lilith catch glimpse of Massa Humphrey in the evening as he ride out to see the sunset. Sometimes he and Robert Quinn would come home at dawn, before even Homer wake up, and both mens reeking of rum and whiskey and tobacco and man-stink. Lilith would run between the two as they ignore her and put a kettle on the stove and make tea.
—Toss it all, my memory is as bad as my mum’s, lately. Have I fucked this one? Massa Humphrey say one morning.
—Nay, I can’t say ye have, Quinn say, and both think it so funny that they laugh till they cough. Massa Humphrey push back the chair and lose him balance and fall back to a crash on the floor and both mens laugh even harder.
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