Homer tell Lilith and Robert Quinn to go, for she will deal with it and it not right for a lady to be seen like this. Quinn open the door for Lilith and she step through queer-like, her hands touching her shoulders. Outside the door be Massa Humphrey.
Robert Quinn say Homer is taking care of her but Massa Humphrey cut him off by raising him hand.
—I will not hear you speak ill of the French when Miss Isobel is around, Quinn, Massa Humphrey say.
—Maybe you’ve forgotten, Master Wilson, that we’re at war with the French, Robert Quinn say. Massa Humphrey walk away. Lilith watch him leave, following the creak in the new boot, the colour of the new breeches, to the waistcoat that shine, to the hair. She turn and see Robert Quinn looking at her.
13
THE BALL COME. LILITH READY. BY HER LONESOME LILITH hem her dress, since Andromeda was taller, and take in the waist, since Andromeda was fatter. The needle and thread she thief from Homer. Lilith don’t have no real sewing skill, not even after fixing the mistress’ petticoats on several occasion, so the hem uneven and the waist too narrow. Homer watching Lilith and not saying nothing. Sometime Lilith see Homer watching her and cut her eye. Lilith ’fraid of what Homer itching to say, but Homer don’t say a peep. Andromeda daughter now so crazy since her mama dead that Massa Humphrey sell her to a white man from Kingston who judge how plump her pussy be before he judge her face.
Two night in a row, Lilith wake up and see a woman watching her. The first night she go to scream but catch her mouth. She first think it be Andromeda in the shadow but this woman thin. Her hair wild and natty and her skirt spread wide like bat wing. Lilith can’t make out the face. She don’t see no eye, only the blackest black. When she leave something visit Lilith mind and don’t leave for the rest of the day.
Six tell six tell six,
she remember the cave and the words like a chant.
—Stop come near me bed, she say to Homer the next day.
Homer hiss.
—And you funeral frock don’t scare me neither, Lilith say.
—And why me would a-come to a mix-up nigger bed, girl chile? she say. Lilith hiss too, like she don’t believe but she know that Homer too proud to lie to any negro girl who beneath her.
The following night Lilith didn’t sleep, thinking that the woman was some sort of dream witch that wouldn’t come if she stay awake. Lilith pace round the cellar and count wine bottles and stomp the dust out of her mat and search the cellar for rats with the tallow candle. She listen as the great house go to sleep. She try to stand up but her blinking getting longer and heavier. Lilith go upstairs to the kitchen to wash her face and look around. She lift her dress to wipe her face and the night breeze make her legs shiver. Lilith cover herself and turn to leave but at the doorway be the dark woman. Lilith jump back and her head clap a pot hanging over the counter and that pot hit another pot, that hit another pot and set off a ringing like Sunday church bells. Lilith grab after the pots, her heart beating hard as she wait for somebody to wake up. She fearing and hoping somebody wake up. Nobody. At the cellar doorway, the dark woman gone. Lilith stoop down to the kitchen floor, watching the doorway. Tiredness and fear fight for so long that as soon as she close her eyes she would jump up, giving herself a fright. Tiredness soon win. Lilith fall asleep on the kitchen floor.
Morning come and Lilith realise that she wish she had somebody to talk to. Certainly not them six woman who did want her to join them. Some she don’t see since that night, but others when they see her act like they don’t know her, even Gorgon, who only nod when nobody else looking. Even Pallas, who work right beside her in the kitchen and sometimes had a good word, don’t say nothing no more. One time Lilith go outside to throw away water and see Iphigenia passing by in a coffle of artisan slave that Massa Humphrey rent out to the Worthy Park Estate. Even on the way to the hot sun, Iphigenia still cover up in long sleeve dress, still wearing neck scarf. Iphigenia look right through Lilith like she make out of breeze. Lilith tell herself that she don’t care, she goin’ change her heart to wood. But she perplex. Is hard work after all, hardening heart for nigger and then softening it every time Massa Humphrey pass by.
Cooking commence from early in the morning. There be mutton and pork to roast, ham to bake, beef and fish to stew, chicken, duck and goose to fry, and crabs to pickle. There be bread yam to sear, plantains to boil, pawpaw sauce to stir, potatoes to steam, carrots and cabbage to chop. There be chocolate batter for cake, flour and corn for pudding, cheese to slice and wine bottle to wash off from the cellar dust and rum and whiskey to get from the liquor merchant. Pallas boiling the soup. All of a sudden the kitchen go off in silence, one negro then another, except for one of the mens who ears hard. Homer slap him shoulder and the man look up and shut up. Miss Isobel in the kitchen. Lilith look behind her for Massa Humphrey, but she come by her lonesome. She walk round the kitchen looking over what cooking. She nod and smile when she see the cakes cooling and put her fan to her mouth when she see the chicken get pluck.
—Mornin’, mistress, one of the mens say and bow down real low. She nod.
She check the lamb shoulder and the pork loin and she check the greens, touching things light, then wiping her hand on a kerchief. Miss Isobel ask for a spoon and go over to where Pallas cooking. She dip in the pot and blow over the spoon, then she sip a little. Pallas in fear and trembling. Miss Isobel face screw up and she spit in the pot.
—Ghastly! Positively ghastly! More salt than in the Dead Sea, she say. You’ll have to begin again, surely, she say and leave. Pallas perplex. She cook the same soup the same way, two time a week for the past three year. Homer raise one eyebrow.
—Do what your, I mean the mistress tell you, Homer say. Pallas go to pull off the pot but Homer nod no.
—Put in three potato to suck up the salt, chile, and add two spoon of sugar, she say. Everybody look ’pon Homer, but Homer just go on with what she doing.
Lilith like how her dress fit even if she can’t breathe right. Christmas is for nigger and New Year’s Eve is for backra, but Lilith not hearing that. Because of the night before, Lilith doze off to sleep in the kitchen. She peeling potatoes and almost cut her finger, for her head elsewhere. She want to go to the ball and that be white people affairs and she not white but mulatto, yet at Montpelier mulatto no different from nigger. Lilith want to go to the ball and impress Massa Humphrey but she not sure what that mean exactly. Perhaps she too young and not ready for woman things and Massa Humphrey don’t take too kindly to young flesh. Lilith tell herself that she want to see what the white womens goin’ wear and see how the white womens goin’ look and hear how white womens laugh in the colonies. She think of white flesh and black flesh, that really be brown flesh by blood and the two flesh melt into one flesh that don’t know colour. Then Lilith wonder if she dreaming because dreaming is one thing God never allow negro to do. For that she blame Circe for living like a free nigger only to have the Johnny-jumper take that away. She start to blame Circe for giving her white woman expectation and hatred for negro life. Putting the blame on Circe make her feel righter ’bout Massa Humphrey. She wonder ’bout what Pallas say ’bout feeling sweet for a man. That be what she born for.
Before the evening ball come the morning church service. The negroes gather near a clearing by the field. The preacher ’fraid to go any further ’cause he not too long off the ship from Liverpool (and him heart went out for the hell-bent negroes that be on the ship) and the massa tell him that snake and leopard live in the bush. The preacher red and fat like a choking pig, but him pocket fatter from the guinea and shillings that he just get from Massa Humphrey. The preacher wearing a black hat that wide at the brim and hide him face until he look up. Him eye little and squinty and lip puck together like a dainty woman. Him jacket black and breeches grey and too tight and him crotches wouldn’t behave. The preacher burnin’ in the sun so much that him pick up that one-day-old hog smell that only white people pick up.
The negroes get preaching ten times a year. The last time was All Saints’ Day. Although they preach the same thing every Christmas and New Year’s, niggers don’t understand what a baby in the bush can do. Seem that if baby get left in manger he would scratch up, bite up and dead by the third day. But white people think this be the greatest thing. The baby grow up and they kill him, and white people think that be even greater. It make plenty sense that white people would get so much mirth and joy out of this ’cause nobody kill for fun like backra. Preacher tell nigger that God is man and baby. Then he say that God is baby in December but man only four month later. But then he say God is father and he is son and he is spirit. That sound like he breed himself to get himself, then kill himself. White man God perplexing like the white man. Then when it be Easter, they say that people kill him and then he rise up from the dead and he in heaven now. We still don’t know what all that have to do with a God. God supposed to be God of things people can be or use or be ’fraid of, like Asaase Yaa or the terrible Ogun or the Imilozi bush spirits. Preacher say there be only one God right after he explain that there be three God and look up in the sky when he say so. Some people wondering what God doing up there so long and how come he no fall down yet.
Other people pleased like puss over white man God. They not fidgeting and scratching in the heat. They not hissing or leaning on right foot, then left. Preacher say they’s goin’ get reward in heaven and they screaming and wailing and falling down on they knees saying, Thank you, Jesus! Preacher man tell them that the Bible say them to stand firm in they suffering ’cause that is they lot for being the cursed son of Noah. That Jesus don’t care for slavery but for the heart of the slave. That Jesus goin’ reward them in heaven for being a good nigger. The preacher look at Massa Humphrey as he ride pass and start sing “All Glory Be to God on High,” and start to pick up him belongings. Even as he leave and the negroes scatter some still be singing the hymn.
Lilith couldn’t wait for the preacherman to leave. Everybody have to resume the cooking and the cleaning and the preparing ’cause the ball start at seven o’ clock. Lilith go in the kitchen and see it empty, save for Homer. Lilith try to walk past her to go down to the cellar.
—What a thing, eh? Some people pleased like puss, Homer say. Lilith don’t say nothing.
—Some people in happiness and rejoicing when they should be in fear and in trembling, Homer say.
—That must be old people talk, ’cause me don’t understand you, say Lilith.
—So it go, he who don’t hear must feel after all. Lord knows what happen when a nigger girl not satisfied with her lot, Homer say and walk away.
Lilith still for a little bit. Then she hiss and go downstairs. Lilith say that she is big woman, but when she put on the dress she feel the most girlish. She don’t have no looking glass, but in the silver tray she lookin’ just fine.
Five o’clock. All the negroes have to assemble except the cooks, who getting everything hot and ready. Homer standing by the soup that Miss Isobel spit in. She have all the negroes line up for Miss Isobel to inspect. Four fat negro woman in the line, follow by Pallas, another woman, Lilith, then three mens. The women in white frock with black skirts that spread out ’cause for the first time they wearing petticoat underneath. Everybody hair push back in a cap that Miss Isobel sketch herself. Only Lilith dress showing bosom, which make some people look twice. Miss Isobel step in to look over the negroes. She don’t say nothing, but she nod to Homer and leave. They soon hear a horse whinny. Miss Isobel gone back to Coulibre to dress in what Homer call her finery.
About an hour later Massa Humphrey and Robert Quinn come back home from horse riding. Homer at the door to tell both that they so late that they must be going to some other New Year’s Eve ball. Massa Humphrey remind her that that kind of talk begging for a whipping, but Homer say nothing. Robert Quinn whisper sorry to Homer when Massa Humphrey gone off too far to hear it.
—Send one of them to prepare my bath, Homer, Massa Humphrey shout.
—A female this time, Homer.
Lilith make a small step.
—Not you, Homer say.
Homer point to Pallas, who frown. Lilith remember that Pallas be her sister and never show any malice towards her, but that don’t stop the disliking.—Some people think 1801 goin’ be different from 1800, Homer say, to nobody.
Miss Isobel come back
looking like is heaven she just come from. She float down her brougham carriage all covered in white. She take off her mob cap and her yellow hair part in the middle and pull back from her face except for two curls that spin up her cheek. Nobody ever wear a dress like this in the colony for sure. It white but white like milk, a deep colour that look like you could drink it. Right on her bosom wrap a cloth that hide and show at the same time. Look one way it white, look another way it clear to see through, look another way it shiny. The cloth go all the way around her shoulder and back. Right below her bosom there be a green ribbon that shiny like the silver. Her sleeves big and puffy and cover all the way to above her elbow. From her elbow down cover in glove that stop at her palm and show off her pretty fingers. Massa Humphrey take aback when he see her step in through the front door. The negroes take aback when they see him.
The last time anybody ever see the massa dress so gentleman-like was when he come here from England. The massa in a black coat with tails that brush the back of him knee and him white cravat cover him neck all the way up to the ears. Him breeches and stockings white and shiny but not as shiny as the black shoes he wearing, a first for him.
—Good evening, ma’am, Massa Humphrey say to Miss Isobel.
—And a good evening it is, but we’ve had this discussion before, Master Wilson.
Ma’am
refers to my mother, Miss Isobel say.