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| The color purple: Alice Walker: Chapter 6 |
Everything nasty here, she says, even the
air. Food is bad enough to kill you with it. Roaches here, mice, flies, lice, and
even a snake or two. If you say anything they strip you and make you sleep on a
cement floor without a light.
How do you manage? us ask.
Every time they ask me to do something,
Miss Celie, I act like I’m you. I jump right up and do just what they say. She
looks wild when she said that, and her bad eye wanders around the room.
Mr. sucks in his breath. Harpo
groan. Miss Shug cuss. She comes from Memphis special to see Sofia. I can’t fix
my mouth to say how I feel.
I’m a good prisoner, she says. Best
convict they ever see. They can’t believe I’m the one passing the mayor’s wife,
knocking the mayor down. She laughs. It sounds like something from a song. The
part where everybody has gone home but you.
Twelve years is a long time to be good
though, she says. Maybe you get out on good behavior, say Harpo.
Good behavior ain’t good enough for them,
says Sofia. Nothing less than sliding on your belly with your tongue on the
boots can even get their attention. I dream of murder, she said, I dream of
murder sleep or wake.
We don’t say anything.
How are the children? she asked.
They are all fine, says Harpo. Tween Odessa
and Squeak, they get by. Say thank you to Squeak, she says. Tell Odessa I think
about her.
Yeah, say Harpo, she looks a little crazy
to me. And what she had to say, say Shug. My God.
We got to do something, say Mr., and
be right quick about it.
What can we do? ask Squeak. She looks a
little haggard with all Sofia and Harpo's children sprung on her at once, but she
carries on. Their hair is a little stringy, and slip show, but she continues.
Bust her out, say Harpo. Git some dynamite
off the gang building that big bridge down the road, and blow the whole
prison to kingdom come.
Shut up, Harpo, say Mr., us trying to
think.
I got it, say the prizefighter, smuggle in
a gun. Well, he rubs his chin, maybe smuggles in a file. Now, say Odessa. They
just come after her if she leaves that way.
I and Squeak don’t say anything. I don’t
know what she thinks, but I think bout angels, God coming down by chariot,
swinging down real low, and carrying ole Sofia home. I see ’em all as clear as
day. Angels all in white, with white hair, and white eyes, look like albinos. God
all white too, looking like some stout white man working at the bank. Angels
strike their cymbals, one of them blows his horn, God blows out a big breath of
fire, and suddenly Sofia is free.
Who are the warden’s black kinfolks? say
Mr. Nobody says
anything.
Finally, the prizefighter speaks. What is his
name? he asked. Hodges, say Harpo. Bubber Hodges.
Old man Henry Hodges’ boy, says Mr. Used to live out in the old Hodges’ place. Got
a brother named Jimmy? ask Squeak.
Yeah, says Mr. Brother's name, is Jimmy. Married to that Quitman girl.
Daddy owns the hardware. Do you know them? Squeak ducked her head. Mumble
something.
Say what? ask Mr.
Squeak's cheek turns red. She mumbles
again. you are what? Mr. ask.
Cousin, she says.
Mr. look at her.
Daddy, she says. She cut her eye at Harpo.
Look at the floor. Does he know anything bout it? ask Mr.
Yeah, she says. He got three children from
my mama. Two younger than me. Does his brother know anything bout it? ask Mr.
One time he comes by the house with Mr.
Jimmy, he gives us all quarters and says we sure do look like Hodges.
Mr. rear back in his chair and give Squeak a good look from head to foot. Squeak pushes her greasy brown hair
back from her face.
Yeah, say Mr. I see the resemblance. He brings his chair down on the
floor. Well, look like you are the one to go.
Go whereas Squeak.
Go see the warden. He's your uncle.
We dress Squeak like she is a white woman, only her
clothes patch. She got on a starch and iron dress, high heel shoes with scuffs,
and an old hat somebody give Shug. We give her an old pocketbook that looks
like a quilt and a little black bible. We wash her hair and get all the grease
out, then I put it up in two plaits that cross over her head. We bathe her so
clean she smells like a good clean floor.
What I’m gon say? she asked.
Say you living with Sofia's husband and her husband
say Sofia is not punishing enough. Say she laughs at the fool she makes of the
guards. Say she getting along just fine where she at. Happy even, long as she doesn’t
have to be any white woman maid.
Gracious God, say Squeak, how I’m gonna tune up my
mouth to say all that?
He asked you who you are, make him remember. Tell him
how much that quarter he gives you meant to you. That was fifteen years ago,
say Squeak, he ain’t gonna remember that.
Make him see the Hodges in you, say Odessa. He’ll
remember.
Tell him you just think justice ought to be done,
yourself. But make sure he knows you living with Sofia's husband, say Shug.
Make sure you get to the part bout being happy where she is at, the worse thing
that could happen to her is to be some white lady maid.
I don’t know, says the prizefighter. This sounds mighty
much like some ole Uncle Tomming to me. Shug snorted, Well, she said, Uncle Tom
didn’t call Uncle for anything.
Poor little Squeak comes home with a limp. Her dress
ripped. Her hat missing and one of the heels comes off her shoe. What happens? us
ask.
He saw the Hodges in me, she says. And he didn’t like
it one bit.
Harpo comes up the steps from the car. My wife beat
up, my woman raped, he says. I ought to go back out there with guns, maybe set
fire to the place, burn the crackers up.
Shut up, Harpo, say Squeak. I’m telling it. And she
does.
Say, the minute I walk through the door, he remembered
me. What does he say? us ask.
Say, What do you want? I say I come out of the
interest I have in seeing justice is done. What do you say you want? he asked
again.
I say what yall told me to say. Bout Sofia is not
being punished enough. Say she is happy in prison, a strong girl like her. Her
main worry is just the thought of ever being some white woman maid. That's what
started the fight, you know, I say. Mayor’s wife asks Sofia to be her maid.
Sofia says she never going to be a white woman’s nothing, let alone a maid.
That so? he asked, all the time looking me over real
good.
Yessir, I say. Say, prison suits her just fine. Shooting,
washing, and ironing all day is all she does at home. She got six children, you
know.
Is that a fact? he says.
He comes from behind his desk and leans over my chair.
Who are your folks? he asked.
I tell him my mama’s name and grandmama’s name. Grandpa’s
name. Who's your daddy? he asked. Where do you get their eyes?
Ain’t got no daddy, I say.
Come on now, he says. Ain’t I seen you before?
I say, Yessir. And one time about ten years ago, when I
was a little girl, you give me a quarter. I sure did preshape it, I say. I
don’t remember that, he says.
You come by the house with my mama friend, Mr. Jimmy,
I say. Squeak looks around at all of us. Then take a deep breath. Mumble. Say
what? ask Odessa.
Yeah, say Shug, if you can’t tell us, who you gon
tell, God?
He took my hat off, says Squeak. Told me to undo my
dress. She drops her head and puts her face in her hands. My God, say Odessa, and
he's your uncle.
He says if he was my uncle he wouldn’t do it to me.
That be a sin. But this is just little fornication. Everybody is guilty of
that. She turns her face up to Harpo. Harpo, she says, do you love me, or just
my color?
Harpo says I love you, Squeak. He kneels and tries to
put his arms around her waist. She stands up. My name is Mary Agnes, she says.
She got
the kind of voice you never think of trying to sing a song. It's little, it's high,
it sort of meowing. But Mary Agnes doesn’t care.
Pretty
soon, we get used to it. Then we like it a whole lot. Harpo doesn’t know what
to make of it.
It seems
funny to me, he says to me and Mr. So
suddenly. It put me in the mind of a gramophone. Sit in the corner for a near silence
at the grave. Then you put a record on, and it comes to life.
Wonder if
she is still mad that Sofia knocks her teeth out? I asked.
Yeah, she
was mad. But what is good being mad gon do? She is not evil, she knows Sofia's
life is hard to bear right now. How did she get along with the children? ask
Mr.
They love
her, says Harpo. She let ’em do anything they want. Oh-oh, I say.
Besides,
he says, Odessa and Sofia's other sisters are always on hand to take up the
slack. They bring up children like the military. Squeak sing,
They call
me yellow like yellow is my name
They call
me yellow like yellow is my name
But if
yellow is a name Why ain’t black the same
Well, if I say Hey black girl Lord, she tries to ruin my game
Sofia says to
me today, I just can’t understand it. What that? I asked.
Why we ain’t
already kill them off.
Three years
after she beat her out of the wash house, got her color and her weight back,
look like her old self, just all-time thinking bout killing somebody.
Too many to
kill off, I say. We were outnumbered from the start. I speak we knock over one or
two, though, here and there, through the years, I say.
We sit on a
piece of old crate out near the edge of Miss Millie’s yard. Rusty nails stick
out along the bottom and when we move they creak against the wood.
Sofia's job is
to watch the children play ball. The little boy throws the ball to the little
girl, and she tries to catch it with her eyes shut. It rolls up under Sofia's foot.
Throw me the
ball, says the little boy, with his hands on his hip. Throw me the ball.
Sofia muttered
to herself, half to me. I’m here to watch, not to throw, she says. She doesn’t
make a move toward the ball. Don’t you hear me talking to you, he shouts. He may
be six years old, with brown hair, and ice-blue eyes. He comes steaming up to where we
sit, hauls off, and kicks Sofia's leg. She swings her foot to one side and he
screams.
What is the
trouble? I asked.
Done stab his
foot with a rusty nail, Sofia says.
Sure enough, blood
comes leaking through his shoe.
His little
sister comes to watch him cry. He turn redder and redder. Call his mama.
Miss Millie
comes running. She was scared of Sofia. Every time she talks to her it is like
she expects the worst. She doesn’t stand close to her either. When she got a
few yards from where we sat, she motioned for Billy to come there.
My foot, he
says to her.
Sofia do it?
she asked.
Little girl
pipes up. Billy does it himself, she says. Trying to kick Sofia's leg. The
little girl dotes on Sofia and always sticks up for her. Sofia never notices, she is
as deaf to the little girl as she is to her brother.
Miss Millie
cut her eyes at her, put one arm around Billy's shoulder and they limp into the
back of the house. A little girl follows, waving bye-bye to us.
She seems like
a right sweet little thing, I say to Sofia. Who is? She frowns.
The little
girl, I say. What do they call her, Eleanor Jane?
Yeah, says
Sofia, with a real puzzled look on her face, I wonder why she was ever born.
Well, I say, we don’t have to wonder that bout Darky.
She giggles. Miss Celie, she says, you are just as crazy as you can be. This was the first giggle I heard in three years.
Sofia would make a dog laugh, talking
about those people she works 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
are backward, she says. 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 refuses to show her how to drive it. Every day he comes home
from the town he looks at her looks out the window at her car, and says, How you
enjoying ’er Miz Millie. She flies off the sofa in a huff, slamming the door and entering the bathroom.
She ain’t got no friends.
So one day she says to me, car been
sitting out in the yard for two months, Sofia, do you know how to drive? I
guess she remembered first seeing me up against Buster Broadnax's car.
Do you think you could teach me? she says.
One of Sofia's children break-in, the
oldest boy. He is tall and handsome, all the time serious. And mad a lot. He
says, Don’t say slaving, Mama.
Sofia says, Why not? They got me in a
little storeroom under the house, hardly bigger than Odessa’s porch, and just about as warm as wintertime. I’m at the beck and call all night and
all day. They won’t let me see my children. They won’t let me see any men.
Well, after five years they let me see you once a year. I’m a slave, she says.
What would you call it?
A captive, he says.
Sofia continues her story, only looking at
him like she is glad he is hers.
So I say, Yes ma’am. I can teach you if it
is the same kind of car I learned about.
Next thing you know there goes me and Miz
Millie all up and down the road. First I drive and she watches, then she
started 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 get the mail out of the box down by the road—we go
give Miz Millie her driving lesson.
Well, after a while she got the hang of
it, more or less. Then she got it. Then one day when we come home from riding,
she said to me, I’m gonna drive you home. Just like that.
Home? I asked.
Yes, she says. Home. You ain’t been home
or seen your children in a while, she says. Ain’t that, right? I say, Yes
ma’am. It's been five years.
She says That’s a shame. You just go get
your things right now. Here it is, Christmas. Go get your things. You can stay
all day.
For all day I don’t need anything but what
I got on, I say. Fine, she says. Fine. Well, get in.
Well, say Sofia, I was so used 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 of the car
clearing her throat. Finally, she says, Sofia, with a little laugh, This is the
South. Yes, ma’am, I say.
She cleared her throat, and laugh some more.
Look where you sitting, she says. I’m sitting where I always sit, I say.
That’s the problem, she says. 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 of the car, opened the back
door, and clammed in. She sat down at the front. Off us traveled down the road, Miz
Millie's hair blowing all out the window.
It’s a really pretty country out this way,
she says, when we hit the Marshall County road, coming toward Odessa’s house.
Yes, ma’am, I say.
Then we pull into the yard and all the
children come crowding around the car. Nobody told them I was coming, so they
don’t know who I am. Except for 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 noticed me sitting in the back of the car. Odessa and Jack come out after I was out,
so they didn’t see it.
We all stand
around kissing and hugging each other, Miz Millie just watching. Finally, she
leans out the window and says, Sofia, you only got the rest of the day. I’ll be
back to pick you up at five o’clock The children were 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 is still out there. Maybe she going to
wait to take you back, says Jack.
Maybe she is
sick, says Odessa. You always say how sickly they are.
I go out to
the car, say Sofia, and guess what the matter is? The point is, she doesn’t
know how to do anything but go forward, and Jack and Odessa’s yard is too full
of trees for that.
Sofia, say,
How do you back this thing up?
I lean over
the car window and try to show her how to move the gears. But she was flustered and all the children and Odessa and Jack all stood around 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 is red and she looks mad and
frustrated.
I clam in the
back seat, and lean over the back of the front, steadily trying to show her how to
operate the gears. Nothing happens. Finally, the car stops 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 said, I couldn’t ride in a pickup 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 says, No, I don’t know her either.
So it ends up
with me and Jack driving her back home in the pick-up, then Jack driving me to
town to get a mechanic, and at five o’clock I was driving Miz Millie’s car back
to her house.
I spent
fifteen minutes with my children.
And she has been going on for months bout how ungrateful I am. White folk is a miracle of affliction, says Sofia.
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