by Marlon James
He was of the highest degree of middle stature. His Limbs were put together with great Elegance, and no less Strength. His Legs and Thighs were formed in the exactest Proportion. His Shoulders were broad and brawny, but yet his Arms hung so easily, that he had all the Symptoms of Strength without the least clumsiness. His Hair was of a nut-brown Colour, and was displayed in wanton Ringlets down his Back. His Forehead was high, his Eyes dark, and as full of Sweetness as of Fire. His Nose a little inclined to the Roman. His Teeth white and even. His Lips full, red, and soft. His Beard was only rough on his Chin and upper Lip; but his Cheeks, in which his Blood glowed...Add to this the most perfect Neatness in his Dress, and an Air, which to those who have not seen many Noblemen, would give an idea of Nobility.
There was a time when she would reckon a certain white man in this certain way and not think it uncanny. She think of perfect legs, sturdy and strong like a wonderful horse, legs that only behaving as they should inside breeches that can’t deny what pack tight and loose where the two legs meet.
She need him every night. After working through a page, she would wipe away tears from laughing quiet-like and feel her face. The soft skin would surprise her. Something about her new days make her expecting that one day and one day soon her face would feel hard as rock. Hard from dark thoughts. She take the book out at night when everybody gone to sleep and try to read with piece of a candle. In time, reading wasn’t even too difficult and she come to understand Joseph Andrews in a way that perplex her about other white man. Joseph Andrews never do a cruel thing, but he also didn’t know negro flesh. But sometimes she wonder if this Joseph, being as him be, was a real man after all. For he take after no kind of man she ever meet. Not even Robert Quinn, and it anger her to think of the Irishman and him damn wanton ringlets down his back and him ye’s and fer’s and lasses and feckin’.
She read this over and over and the more she read, the more it perplex her.
Ever since Joseph’s arrival, Betty had conceived an extraordinary Liking to him, which discovered itself more and more, as he grew better and better, till that fatal Evening, when, as she was warming his Bed, her Passion grew to such a Height, and so perfectly mastered both her Modesty and her Reason, that, after many fruitless Hints, and sly Insinuations, she at last threw down the Warming-Pan, and embracing him with great Eagerness, swore he was the handsomest Creature she had ever seen.
Joseph in great Confusion leapt from her, and told her, he was sorry to see a young Woman cast off all Regard to Modesty; but she had gone too far to recede, and grew so very indecent, that Joseph was obliged, contrary to his Inclination, to use some Violence to her; and, taking her in his Arms, he shut her out of the Room, and locked the Door.
How ought Man to rejoice, that his Chastity is always in his own power, that if he hath sufficient Strength of Mind, he hath always a competent Strength of Body to defend himself: and cannot, like a poor weak Woman, be ravished against his Will.
Betty was in the most violent Agitation at this Disappointment. Rage and Lust pulled her Heart, as with two Strings, two different Ways; one Moment she thought of stabbing Joseph ; the next, of taking him in her...
She throw down the book, for no man she ever hear of would refuse a woman of such fairness who so want a man to be a man. Not even a preacher or a magistrate. Certainly not no Massa Roget or Wilson or Quinn. Or the yellow sour-hair man who appear only in dream and make her pussy feel clammy. She throw down the book for she stop believing in Joseph. She don’t want to. Man did become a thing to Lilith, a black thing, and here come a man who didn’t even breathe to grey her up.
One night in reading when her mind was perplexing something awful over the word heterodox that Barnaby just say to Mr. Adams, she hear the stairs creak and jump. She shove the book under her dress. But it was Massa Henri asking for milk. She reach for a pitcher of milk that boil that evening and pour some in a glass for the boy. As she hand him the glass the book drop to the ground. She look at the book and at Massa Henri. Lilith couldn’t read him face.
—You just had a book baby! That was a lark, indeed it was! Quite like when Ivory, my horse, had a horse baby!
—Shhh, Massa Henri. You mother would have a fright if she know you up and about.
—Does it have pictures of horses and rainbows?
—No, Massa Henri.
—Oh. That’s dreadful. Is it a nigger book?
—Shhh, Massa Henri. You mustn’ tell nobody.
—’Tis a secret? I love a secret.
—Is the secretest secret. If the mistress hear, she goin’ wring you ears again. You not goin’ like that, I should think.
—No.
—So be a good little boy.
—I’m not little!
—Shhh. Be a good big boy. Off with you.
—I should very much like a piece of cake, I think.
Lilith look at the boy. He not smiling or angry, he just look at her straight. She try to find the massa in him, but see the Miss Isobel. They let him hair grown down to him shoulder now. She cut him a slice of pound cake and he run back upstairs.
Lilith come to realise that Miss Isobel lie. Massa Humphrey don’t ask for nobody hand in marriage yet. Lilith know this because she know the white man way be for the man to ask the father to hand over the daughter and Mistress Roget not be screaming in joy yet. But things was smelling of something else. Lilith not sure what until one day when Homer pay a visit. Homer come by carriage with Francine ’cause Mistress Roget poor nerves aggravate again. Homer come through the kitchen door, dress head to toe in navy blue, a frock and a blue bonnet from long ago when Massa Humphrey mother was young belle. As Homer step into the kitchen, Lilith rush to her. Then she stop. She open her arm to hug, but feel that might be too much. She reach out the hand to shake, but feel that too little. Come here, chile, Homer say and grab her up like a baby cat. Lilith go weak in her arm.
—You light like a feather, chile. You eating? Homer say.
Mistress Roget shout from upstairs that several guests coming for supper, so Lilith need to add more to the cooking. Lilith kneading flour while Homer boiling cerasee and comfrey leaf in a pot. The stove heat up the room and Homer take off her cap. Homer hair more white than Lilith remember even though Lilith be at Coulibre only two months or so. Homer go over to the counter where Lilith was kneading and write this in the flour:
A.M. Cum Isobel.
Lilith read what Homer write.—Come, chile, me know you get enough learning to read that, Homer say.
—Me can read it, Homer, Lilith say. But them things not be word.
—Things say more than what word can tell, Homer say.
—Well, is only you they talking to, ’cause me not hearing nothing.
—Massa Humphrey write it in him journal.
—What A.M. mean?
—Not just A.M., A.M. Cum Isobel. Wake up and smell the sheet funk, chile. They fuckin’. Massa Humphrey cunt-struck like man dog. Most time when he write that in him book is when he gone carousing and is always some woman name write after cum.
Right then, young Massa Henri run in, shouting, Sweets! Sweets! Like sweets be code word for him breeches being on fire. He run up to Lilith and wrap him arms around her. They move over to the cupboard with the boy little foots riding Lilith’s big foots. Lilith take out a big jar of molasses and dip a big wooden spoon while he hold out him hand. She pour molasses out in one streak, making a big X in the palm of him hand. Massa Henri giggle and run out. Lilith and Homer look at each other for a good long time. Then they burst out laughing. Homer laugh with a whisper that sound like she heaving with the breathing sickness and Lilith cover her mouth, slapping the dough.
—Bitch getting treat like nigger, Lilith say.
—How you mean?
—How you mean by how you mean? You say he be fuckin’ her. That mean he hold her down and take ’way. No so he do with nigger girl?
—Chile, hush you mouth. Backra no use same plough with white woman bush.
—E
ehi? All me know ’bout white man is they seize a woman and shove it in and ram and jam till he start to whinny like horse.
—So white man be with nigger. White woman is another story. Unless she not worth a shilling. Besides, from what Pallas tell me, is she do the seducing.
—Right. Me’d think that was improper, as Miss Isobel herself would a say.
—Chile, watch when clock a-strike. She find some way to go in him room, saying she looking to have fourposter bed made for her maman and want to see what him own be lookin’ like. Pallas say is ’bout half hour or so the two come back out with them clothes mess up. Pallas say she never know two white people could a-work a funk like what she smell in that room after.
Lilith laugh.
—Hush, Homer say.—Plus me sees them.
—Lying bitch.
—Who you be that me have to lie to you?
—All right! All right, talk you talk.
—Listen to me. One time they so frisky like young rabbit that they forget to close the door tight. Me passing by to drop the new sheets and lo and behold, me hear sound like cat and dog a-fight. So me be thinking that two of massa dog get loose in the house. Me push the door little and it creak.
—And?
—Well, when door creak and nobody hear, you know them be busy.
—Ah suppose.
—Suppose nothing. Me open the door little wider and what should look at me but massa backside. There them be, him breeches down to him knee, coat throw to the ground and shirt all tie up. All me see of Miss Isobel is one leg spread left and one leg spread right, and there be massa ploughing the middle.
—Raas!
—Me chile. He moaning and she hot breathing and them try to come all quiet-like. He write this too in the book, Sed non bene.
—What that mean?
—Me no know.
—White lady suppose to lock it up till wedding ring come to open it.
—You don’t know what time clock strike. Them white woman be more shameless than nigger girl. Watch out for that one Miss Isobel, you hear me. She know more ’bout negro ways than you think. Every now and then she even have to catch herself chatting like nigger.
—No man going go ’pon top of me ever.
Lilith go to say again, but her mind catch her mouth.—Me kill him first, say.
—But see here. And why you come to that understanding, me chile?
—How you mean? All me see is white man or niggerman using one more thing to get on top of you. Me tired of that. Sick and tired.
—Me hear you. Me hear you. But sometime fuckin’ sweet, though.
—Homer?
—Hello, what you think me keep down there, cobweb? Me used to be a woman, you know. I know what you think, I know what all of you think, but there used to be one time when me was woman.
—And man lay down with you?
—Three.
—Massa?
—No.
—Who?
—First one name Benjy. When Benjy coming toward you and open him arms is like a tree spread wide in front of you.
—You did love him?
—Stop talk like white people.
—Then what?
—Then nothing. When that man hand wrap round you, you feel safe even if he was just another slave, just like me.
—And you make the man fuck you?
—That wasn’t fuckin’. And the man never make me. We make each other. That be what them call the making love. He slow and say pretty word like it be singing he singing. You must be the first person me telling this to.
—What making love feel like?
—Making love? Like the longest sweetest tickling. Then it turn into something else and bump come up under you skin and is like one wave hit you toe and wash all the way up to you head, sometime one, two, three time. You never know two people could make that one feeling. With Benjy, me used to shake and move so hard because he do it so good. And you pussy? It feel like it just get bless. Making love is good thing, Lilith.
—You use to say you don’t meet no man who could handle you.
—He almost, but in the end he was just a nigger.
Homer don’t say nothing after that for a while. Lilith look at the pot on the fire.
—He dead?
—I don’t know. Time come when me belly get big and as soon as Massa Jack see say the baby was goin’ be Akan and Coromantee he sell it already, before it even come of me belly. He . . . me not talking ’bout this. Then Jack Wilkins make more mens rape two pickney out o’ me.
—Me no understand. After all that you come tell me that sexing good. Sound like it come at cost.
—Maybe, maybe not. Me tired of man misery. At least you seem righted now anyway. How they treating you?
—Homer, even nigger treat you like nigger here. And since Dulcimena, the kitchen woman, get killed, her work be my work. The rest of the niggers here worthless and stupid and chat you business to the mistress. Me do the cooking, the washing, the cow milking, and minding Miss Isobel stinking little brother, even the baby.
—Lord, me chile. They whip you?
—Any time she wish. The mistress do it mostly. Sometime for no reason, ever since Massa Humphrey give her permission, cowhide turn into her third hand. Me back have new scar take over from the old one.
—Lord have mercy.
—No. Lord don’t know mercy here, so he can frig right off. Homer, I think I goin’ run ’way.
—Lord God, me chile, don’t do that. Don’t make it worse.
—How the bloodcloth—Lilith slam her hand on the counter. She breathe deep, quiet herself and say, How it to get more worse?
—Coulibre not but twelve mile from Accompong. Twelve mile.
—Accompong?
—Maroon town, chile. Them niggers will smell you as soon as you set out. They have settlement not twelve mile from these parts. Better white man keep you than Maroons catch you.
—What the Maroon do to you, Homer?
Homer look like she ’bout to fall. She pull the stool from by the doorway and sit down.
—What them didn’t do to me, you should ask. That would be nothing.
—Don’t give me one of you Homer kinda answer. Me see you back already, Homer, one day when you washing yourself. Is all right. Now me have the same back just like you.
—Indeed. Indeed.
—What the Maroons do to you?
—The same thing Benjy do to me. The same Benjy me just talk ’bout. I tell you already that me and Benjy did sweet for one another, but me did lie. Me did love him, yes. Love him like how white girl say they love man in storybook. Mayhaps even more than that. That man use to rub me belly all the time when he see me was with chile. Then Massa Jack get wind of it. Talk ’bout how he see money in breeding and my baby with the sense of Akan and the back of Coromantee bound to catch a good price—even if is a gal. Me no know, something in me just break. Mayhaps every nigger reach that place where she say that done be enough now. Me tell Benjy that me running ’way and he come with me. Tell me that we should go west and head for the Maroons. We know they still under treaty, but they still taking niggers, especially one as strappin’ as Benjy.
Me still remember the night. Damn grounds so hot there be nothing for nigger to do but sit down and cuss. Massa Jack just buy fresh pussy off from Spanish Town slave market so he busy seasoning her. Everybody up to them usual business and even the mistress gone to Kingston. We never take nothing but weself. We go through the ratoon fields and the provision grounds—lord God, me never see so much rat in me life. Snake too. But nothing was goin’ stop me from having a free nigger baby. Not a damn thing. And Benjy. Every time he touch me belly is like the man grow some more. Me never tell a soul me was goin’, not even Pallas. Well, we make it to the west and in the hills where the Maroons be. Before we find them they find we. Remember, this be after the treaty.
—What that mean?
—That mean that they grab we and kick we like we is nigger. Benjy tell them tha
t me in the family way and them don’t business. White man can make you feel plenty bad, but me never dream that nigger could make nigger feel worse. Call me lanky titty donkey. Say that the massa might not even want me back. One of them lift up me frock and shove him hand in me pussy to see if me tight enough to keep. Sum’bitches. Goddamn sum’bitches. Me was right. Them was looking for strapping nigger so they keep Benjy, but they drag me back for they two pounds. And not before they beat me first. Beat me so much that see me own pickney give up first and fall out of me womb. A girl. You understand what me telling you, chile?
—Y-yes.
—No, you don’t understand. Is not even losing the pickney that kill me. Is losing meself. Them Maroons make me feel like no nigger deserve freedom. No nigger must be man or woman. They think they free but they base and wicked and fucking goat so long they don’t even know woman. Me did think a woman not a woman unless she be free and they take that from me. Take ’way me womanness. Is better they did rape me than send me back. Benjy, that same Benjy who tell me that me birthmark is like island and me skin is sea. That same sum’bitch don’t even say nothing and couldn’t even look. Me even feel sorry for him, for what nigger love be compare to free? And that Jack Wilkins, he make an example out of me. He been waiting for that all he life. All he life. You think you get whipping? Me get the worst whipping ever in Montpelier. The worst of the worst. Beat me with whip and tree branch and then brand me with iron across me back for every day me did gone. That one be the mistress idea. She take great interest. When Wilkins run out of back she tell him to brand me front. Hear me own titty cook like a goose. Smell me own self burning. Then she have me wait on her hand and foot since then. And even that, Lilith, even that wasn’t the worst. The worst was when him set six man ’pon me to fuck me so that me can breed again. Two time he do it. You know how it feel to take out this mash-up thing to feed you chile? Every time me look down, me think me chile suckin’ some animal.
