Color Purple Collection

by Alice Walker

  Sofia job to watch the children play ball. The little boy throw the ball to the little girl, she try to catch it with her eyes shut. It roll up under Sofia foot.

  Throw me the ball, say the little boy, with his hands on his hip. Throw me the ball.

  Sofia mutter to herself, half to me. I’m here to watch, not to throw, she say. She don’t make a move toward the ball.

  Don’t you hear me talking to you, he shout. He maybe six years old, brown hair, ice blue eyes. He come steaming up to where us sit, haul off and kick Sofia leg. She swing her foot to one side and he scream.

  What the trouble? I ast.

  Done stab his foot with a rusty nail, Sofia say.

  Sure enough, blood come leaking through his shoe.

  His little sister come watch him cry. He turn redder and redder. Call his mama.

  Miss Millie come running. She scared of Sofia. Everytime she talk to her it like she expect the worst. She don’t stand close to her either. When she git a few yards from where us sit, she motion for Billy to come there.

  My foot, he say to her.

  Sofia do it? she ast.

  Little girl pipe up. Billy do it his own self, she say. Trying to kick Sofia leg. The little girl dote on Sofia, always stick up for her. Sofia never notice, she as deef to the little girl as she is to her brother.

  Miss Millie cut her eyes at her, put one arm round Billy shoulder and they limp into the back of the house. Little girl follow, wave bye-bye to us.

  She seem like a right sweet little thing, I say to Sofia.

  Who is? She frown.

  The little girl, I say. What they call her, Eleanor Jane?

  Yeah, say Sofia, with a real puzzle look on her face, I wonder why she was ever born.

  Well, I say, us don’t have to wonder that bout darkies.

  She giggle. Miss Celie, she say, you just as crazy as you can be.

  This the first giggle I heard in three years.

  DEAR GOD,

  Sofia would make a dog laugh, talking about those people she work for. They have the nerve to try to make us think slavery fell through because of us, say Sofia. Like us didn’t have sense enough to handle it. All the time breaking hoe handles and letting the mules loose in the wheat. But how anything they build can last a day is a wonder to me. They backward, she say. Clumsy, and unlucky.

  Mayor____bought Miz Millie a new car, cause she said if colored could have cars then one for her was past due. So he bought her a car, only he refuse to show her how to drive it. Every day he come home from town he look at her, look out the window at her car, say, How you enjoying ’er Miz Millie. She fly off the sofa in a huff, slam the door going in the bathroom.

  She ain’t got no friends.

  So one day she say to me, car been sitting out in the yard two months, Sofia, do you know how to drive? I guess she remembered first seeing me up gainst Buster Broadnax car.

  Yes ma’am, I say. I’m slaving away cleaning that big post they got down at the bottom of the stair. They act real funny bout that post. No finger prints is sposed to be on it, ever.

  Do you think you could teach me? she says.

  One of Sofia children break in, the oldest boy. He tall and handsome, all the time serious. And mad a lot.

  He say, Don’t say slaving, Mama.

  Sofia say, Why not? They got me in a little storeroom up under the house, hardly bigger than Odessa’s porch, and just about as warm in the winter time. I’m at they beck and call all night and all day. They won’t let me see my children. They won’t let me see no mens. Well, after five years they let me see you once a year. I’m a slave, she say. What would you call it?

  A captive, he say.

  Sofia go on with her story, only look at him like she glad he hers.

  So I say, Yes ma’am. I can teach you, if it the same kind of car I learned on.

  Next thing you know there go me and Miz Millie all up and down the road. First I drive and she watch, then she start to try to drive and I watch her. Up and down the road. Soon as I finish cooking breakfast, putting it on the table, washing dishes and sweeping the floor—and just before I go git the mail out of the box down by the road—we go give Miz Millie her driving lesson.

  Well, after while she got the hang of it, more or less. Then she really git it. Then one day when we come home from riding, she say to me, I’m gonna drive you home. Just like that.

  Home? I ast.

  Yes, she say. Home. You ain’t been home or seen your children in a while, she say. Ain’t that right?

  I say, Yes ma’am. It been five years.

  She say, That’s a shame. You just go git your things right now. Here it is, Christmas. Go get your things. You can stay all day.

  For all day I don’t need nothing but what I got on, I say.

  Fine, she say. Fine. Well git in.

  Well, say Sofia, I was so use to sitting up there next to her teaching her how to drive, that I just naturally clammed into the front seat.

  She stood outside on her side the car clearing her throat.

  Finally she say, Sofia, with a little laugh, This is the South.

  Yes ma’am, I say.

  She clear her throat, laugh some more. Look where you sitting, she say.

  I’m sitting where I always sit, I say.

  That’s the problem, she say. Have you ever seen a white person and a colored sitting side by side in a car, when one of ’em wasn’t showing the other one how to drive it or clean it?

  I got out the car, opened the back door and clammed in. She sat down up front. Off us traveled down the road, Miz Millie hair blowing all out the window.

  It’s real pretty country out this way, she say, when we hit the Marshall county road, coming toward Odessa’s house.

  Yes ma’am, I say.

  Then us pull into the yard and all the children come crowding round the car. Nobody told them I was coming, so they don’t know who I is. Except the oldest two. They fall on me, and hug me. And then all the little ones start to hug me too. I don’t think they even notice I was sitting in the back of the car. Odessa and Jack come out after I was out, so they didn’t see it.

  Us all stand round kissing and hugging each other, Miz Millie just watching. Finally, she lean out the window and say, Sofia, you only got the rest of the day. I’ll be back to pick you up at five o’clock The children was all pulling me into the house, so sort of over my shoulder I say, Yes ma’am, and I thought I heard her drive off.

  But fifteen minutes later, Marion says, That white lady still out there.

  Maybe she going to wait to take you back, say Jack.

  Maybe she sick, say Odessa. You always say how sickly they is.

  I go out to the car, say Sofia, and guess what the matter is? The matter is, she don’t know how to do nothing but go forward, and Jack and Odessa’s yard too full of trees for that.

  Sofia, she say, How you back this thing up?

  I lean over the car window and try to show her which way to move the gears. But she flustered and all the children and Odessa and Jack all standing round the porch watching her.

  I go round on the other side. Try to explain with my head poked through that window. She stripping gears aplenty by now. Plus her nose red and she look mad and frustrate both.

  I clam in the back seat, lean over the back of the front, steady trying to show her how to operate the gears. Nothing happen. Finally the car stop making any sound. Engine dead.

  Don’t worry, I say, Odessa’s husband Jack will drive you home. That’s his pick-up right there.

  Oh, she say, I couldn’t ride in a pick-up with a strange colored man.

  I’ll ask Odessa to squeeze in too, I say. That would give me a chance to spend a little time with the children, I thought. But she say, No, I don’t know her neither.

  So it end up with me and Jack driving her back home in the pick-up, then Jack driving me to town to git a mechanic, and at five o’clock I was driving Miz Millie’s car back to her house.

  I spent fifteen mi
nutes with my children.

  And she been going on for months bout how ungrateful I is.

  White folks is a miracle of affliction, say Sofia.

  DEAR GOD,

  Shug write she got a big surprise, and she intend to bring it home for Christmas.

  What it is? us wonder.

  Mr. _____ think it a car for him. Shug making big money now, dress in furs all the time. Silk and satin too, and hats made out of gold.

  Christmas morning us hear this motor outside the door. Us look out.

  Hot diggidy dog, say Mr. ____ throwing on his pants.

  He rush to the door. I stand in front the glass trying to make something out my hair. It too short to be long, too long to be short. Too nappy to be kinky, too kinky to be nappy. No set color to it either. I give up, tie on a headrag.

  I hear Shug cry, Oh, Albert. He say, Shug. I know they hugging. Then I don’t hear nothing.

  I run out the door. Shug, I say, and put out my arms. But before I know anything a skinny big toof man wearing red suspenders is all up in my face. Fore I can wonder whose dog he is, he hugging me.

  Miss Celie, he say. Aw, Miss Celie. I heard so much about you. Feel like we old friends.

  Shug standing back with a big grin.

  This Grady, she say. This my husband.

  The minute she say it I know I don’t like Grady. I don’t like his shape, I don’t like his teef, I don’t like his clothes. Seem like to me he smell.

  Us been driving all night, she say. Nowhere to stop, you know. But here us is. She come over to Grady and put her arms round him, look up at him like he cute and he lean down and give her a kiss.

  I glance round at Mr. ____. He look like the end of the world. I know I don’t look no better.

  And this my wedding present to us, say Shug. The car big and dark blue and say Packard on the front. Brand new, she say. She look at Mr. ____, take his arm, give it a little squeeze. While we here, Albert, she say, I want you to learn how to drive. She laugh. Grady drive like a fool, she say. I thought the polices was gonna catch us for sure.

  Finally Shug really seem to notice me. She come over and hug me a long time. Us two married ladies now, she say. Two married ladies. And hungry, she say. What us got to eat?

  DEAR GOD,

  Mr. _____ drink all through Christmas. Him and Grady.

  Me and Shug cook, talk, clean the house, talk, fix up the tree, talk, wake up in the morning, talk.

  She singing all over the country these days. Everybody know her name. She know everybody, too. Know Sophie Tucker, know Duke Ellington, know folks I ain’t never heard of. And money. She make so much money she don’t know what to do with it. She got a fine house in Memphis, another car. She got one hundred pretty dresses. A room full of shoes. She buy Grady anything he think he want.

  Where you find him at? I ast.

  Up under my car, she say. The one at home. I drove it after the oil gave out, kilt the engine. He the man fixed it. Us took one look at one nother, that was it.

  Mr. _____ feelings hurt, I say. I don’t mention mine.

  Aw, she say. That old stuff finally over with. You and Albert feel just like family now. Anyhow, once you told me he beat you, and won’t work, I felt different about him. If you was my wife, she say, I’d cover you up with kisses stead of licks, and work hard for you too.

  He ain’t beat me much since you made him quit, I say. Just a slap now and then when he ain’t got nothing else to do.

  Yall make love any better? she ast.

  Us try, I say. He try to play with the button but feel like his fingers dry. Us don’t git nowhere much.

  You still a virgin? she ast.

  I reckon. I say.

  DEAR GOD,

  Mr. _____ and Grady gone off in the car together. Shug ast me could she sleep with me. She cold in her and Grady bed all alone. Us talk bout this and that. Soon talk about making love. Shug don’t actually say making love. She say something nasty. She say fuck.

  She ast me, How was it with your children daddy?

  The girls had a little separate room, I say, off to itself, connected to the house by a little plank walk. Nobody ever come in there but Mama. But one time when mama not at home, he come. Told me he want me to trim his hair. He bring the scissors and comb and brush and a stool. While I trim his hair he look at me funny. He a little nervous too, but I don’t know why, till he grab hold of me and cram me up tween his legs.

  I lay there quiet, listening to Shug breathe.

  It hurt me, you know, I say. I was just going on fourteen. I never even thought bout men having nothing down there so big. It scare me just to see it. And the way it poke itself and grow.

  Shug so quiet I think she sleep.

  After he through, I say, he make me finish trimming his hair.

  I sneak a look at Shug.

  Oh, Miss Celie, she say. And put her arms round me. They black and smooth and kind of glowy from the lamplight.

  I start to cry too. I cry and cry and cry. Seem like it all come back to me, laying there in Shug arms. How it hurt and how much I was surprise. How it stung while I finish trimming his hair. How the blood drip down my leg and mess up my stocking. How he don’t never look at me straight after that. And Nettie.

  Don’t cry, Celie, Shug say. Don’t cry. She start kissing the water as it come down side my face.

  After while I say, Mama finally ast how come she find his hair in the girls room if he don’t never go in there like he say. That when he told her I had a boyfriend. Some boy he say he seen sneaking out the back door. It the boy’s hair, he say, not his. You know how she love to cut anybody hair, he say.

  I did love to cut hair, I say to Shug, since I was a little bitty thing. I’d run go git the scissors if I saw hair coming, and I’d cut and cut, long as I could. That how come I was the one cut his hair. But always before I cut it on the front porch. It got to the place where everytime I saw him coming with the scissors and the comb and the stool, I start to cry.

  Shug say, Wellsah, and I thought it was only whitefolks do freakish things like that.

  My mama die, I tell Shug. My sister Nettie run away. Mr. _____ come git me to take care his rotten children. He never ast me nothing bout myself. He clam on top of me and fuck and fuck, even when my head bandaged. Nobody ever love me, I say.

  She say, I love you, Miss Celie. And then she haul off and kiss me on the mouth.

  Um, she say, like she surprise. I kiss her back, say, um, too. Us kiss and kiss till us can’t hardly kiss no more. Then us touch each other.

  I don’t know nothing bout it, I say to Shug.

  I don’t know much, she say.

  Then I feels something real soft and wet on my breast, feel like one of my little lost babies mouth.

  Way after while, I act like a little lost baby too.

  DEAR GOD,

  Grady and Mr. _____ come staggering in round daybreak. Me and Shug sound asleep. Her back to me, my arms round her waist. What it like? Little like sleeping with mama, only I can’t hardly remember ever sleeping with her. Little like sleeping with Nettie, only sleeping with Nettie never feel this good. It warm and cushiony, and I feel Shug’s big tits sorta flop over my arms like suds. It feel like heaven is what it feel like, not like sleeping with Mr. _____ at all.

  Wake up Sugar, I say. They back. And Shug roll over, hug me, and git out of the bed. She stagger into the other room and fall on the bed with Grady. Mr. _____ fall into bed next to me, drunk, and snoring before he hit the quilts.

  I try my best to like Grady, even if he do wear red suspenders and bow ties. Even if he do spend Shug’s money like he made it himself. Even if he do try to talk like somebody from the North. Memphis, Tennessee ain’t North, even I know that. But one thing I sure nuff can’t stand, the way he call Shug Mama.

  I ain’t your fucking mama, Shug say. But he don’t pay her no mind.

  Like when he be making goo-goo eyes at Squeak and Shug sorta tease him about it, he say, Aw, Mama, you know I don’t mean no har
m.

  Shug like Squeak too, try to help her sing. They sit in Odessa’s front room with all the children crowded round them singing and singing. Sometime Swain come with his box, Harpo cook dinner, and me and Mr. _____ and the prizefighter bring our preshation.

  It nice.

  Shug say to Squeak, I mean, Mary Agnes, You ought to sing in public.

  Mary Agnes say, Naw. She think cause she don’t sing big and broad like Shug nobody want to hear her. But Shug say she wrong.

  What about all them funny voices you hear singing in church? Shug say. What about all them sounds that sound good but they not the sounds you thought folks could make? What bout that? Then she start moaning. Sound like death approaching, angels can’t prevent it. It raise the hair on the back of your neck. But it really sound sort of like panthers would sound if they could sing.

  I tell you something else, Shug say to Mary Agnes, listening to you sing, folks git to thinking bout a good screw.

  Aw, Miss Shug, say Mary Agnes, changing color.

  Shug say, What, too shamefaced to put singing and dancing and fucking together? She laugh. That’s the reason they call what us sing the devil’s music. Devils love to fuck. Listen, she say, Let’s go sing one night at Harpo place. Be like old times for me. And if I bring you before the crowd, they better listen with respect. Niggers don’t know how to act, but if you git through the first half of one song, you got ’em.

  You reckon that’s the truth? say Mary Agnes. She all big eyed and delight.

  I don’t know if I want her to sing, say Harpo.

  How come? ast Shug. That woman you got singing now can’t git her ass out the church. Folks don’t know whether to dance or creep to the mourner’s bench. Plus, you dress Mary Agnes up the right way and you’ll make piss pots of money. Yellow like she is, stringy hair and cloudy eyes, the men’ll be crazy bout her. Ain’t that right, Grady, she say.

  Grady look little sheepish. Grin. Mama you don’t miss a thing, he say.

  And don’t you forgit it, say Shug.