‘Sugar…plum; what you want to be so evil with your baby for? Don’t you know you donemade me go out and get drunk; and I wasn’t a…fixing to do that? I wanted to take you outsomewhere to…night。’ And; while he spoke; his hand was on her breast; and his moving lipsbrushed her neck。 And this caused such a war in her as could scarcely be endured。 She felt thateverything in existence between them was part of a mighty plan for her humiliation。 She did notwant his touch; and yet she did: she burned with longing and froze with rage。 And she felt that heknew this and inwardly smile to see how easily; on this part of the battlefield; his victory could beassured。 But at the same time she felt that his tenderness; his passion; and his love were real。
‘Let me alone; Frank。 I want to go to sleep。’
‘No you don’t。 You don’t want to go to sleep so soon。 You want me to talk to you a little。
You know how your baby loves to talk。 Listen。’ And he brushed her neck lightly with his tongue。
‘You hear that?’
He waited。 She was silent。
‘Ain’t you got nothing more to say than that? I better tell you something else。’ And then hecovered her face with kisses; her face; neck; arms; and breasts。
‘You stink of whisky。 Let me alone。’
‘Ah。 I ain’t the only one got a tongue。 What you got to say to this? And his hand strokedthe inside of her thigh。
‘Stop。’
‘I ain’t going to stop。 This is sweet talk; baby。’
Ten years。 Their battle never ended; they never bought a home。 He died in France。 To…night sheremembered details of those years which she thought she had forgotten; and at last she felt thestony ground of her heart break up; and tears; as difficult and slow as blood; began to tricklethrough her fingers。 This the old woman above her somehow divined; and she cried: ‘Yes; honey。
You just let go; honey。 Let Him bring you low so He can raise you up。’ And was this the way sheshould have gone? Had she been wrong to fight so hard? Now she was an old woman; and allalone; and she was going to die。 And she had nothing for all her battles。 It had all e to this: shewas on her face before the altar; crying to God for mercy。 Behind her she heard Gabriel cry: ‘Blessyour name; Jesus!’ and; thinking of him and the high road of holiness he had traveled; her mindswung like a needle; and she thought of Deborah。
Deborah had written her; not many times; but in a rhythm that seemed to remark each crisisin her life with Gabriel; and once; during the time she and Frank were still together; she hadreceived from Deborah a letter that she had still: it was locked to…night in her handbag; which layon the altar。 She had always meant to show this letter to Gabriel one day; but she never had。 Shehad talked with Frank about it late one night while he lay in bed whistling some ragtag tune and she sat before the mirror and rubbed bleaching cream into her skin。 The letter lay open before herand she sighed loudly; to attract Frank’s attention。
He stopped whistling in the middle of a phrase; mentally; she finished it。 ‘What you gotthere; sugar?’ he asked; lazily。
‘It’s a letter from my brother’s wife。’ She stared at her face in the mirror; thinking angrilythat all these skin creams were a waste of money; they never did any good。
‘What’s them niggers doing down home? It ain’t no bad news; is it? Still he hummed;irrepressibly; deep in his throat。
‘No … well; it ain’t no good news neither; but it ain’t nothing to surprise me none。 She saysshe think my brother’s got a bastard living right there in the same town what he’s scared to call hisown。’
‘No? And I thought you said you brother was a preacher。’
‘Being a preacher ain’t never stopped a nigger from doing his dirt。’
Then he laughed。 ‘You sure don’t love your brother like you should。 How e his wifefound out about this kid?’
She picked up the letter and turned to face him。 ‘Sound to me like she been knowing aboutit but she ain’t never had the nerve to say nothing。’ She paused; then added; reluctantly: ‘Ofcourse; she ain’t really what you might call sure。 But she ain’t a woman to go around thinkingthings。 She mighty worried。’
‘Hell; what she worried about it now for? Can’t nothing be done about it now。
‘She wonder if she ought to ask him about it。’
‘And do she reckon if she ask him; he going to be fool enough to say yes?’
She sighed again; more genuinely this time; and turned back to the mirror。 ‘Well … he’s apreacher。 And if Deborah’s right; he ain’t got not right to be a preacher。 He ain’t no better’nnobody else。 In fact; he ain’t no better than a murderer。’
He had begun to whistle again; he stopped。 ‘Murderer? How so?’
‘Because he done let this child’s mother go off and die when the child was born。 That’show so。’ She paused。 ‘And it sounds just like Gabriel。 He ain’t never thought a minute aboutnobody in this world but himself。’
He said nothing; watching her implacable back。 Then: ‘You going to answer this letter?’
‘I reckon。’
‘And what you going to say?’
‘I’m going to tell her she ought to let him know she know about his wickedness。 Get up infront of the congregation and tell them too;