Lilith go back to Quinn quarters to see him go to the bedroom. Lilith pull down some banana and cut a large sweet potato in half.
— Oh, I’m not in any sort of mood for lunch today, Lilith. I’ll have tea, please, thank you, he say.
Outside, Homer still getting whip. Lilith wonder what break her first, the nakedness in front of everybody who hate her or the whipping. Outside sounding like Richardson take a break, for Homer no longer screaming. Lilith listen hard and finally hear the crack of the whip cutting through the quiet again.
— Is it ready, Lilith?
— Yes’m. . yes, she say. — I put little molasses in it.
— Then I best be about drinking it, then. Goddamn, luv, this is feckin’ bitter.
— Everything that good for you bitter, Lilith say.
— Is that so? Quinn say. — Well, thank goodness fer all that’s sweet in the world.
He go over to the dining table and sit down.
— Awful business with Homer. Truly awful business, he say and get up and go to him room. He don’t come back for a while and when he do he yawning and stretching.
— Bejesus me, I’m tired. Have you seen my hat, Lilith, the brown leather one? Haven’t been able to. .
— I know where it is, Lilith say and go into the room. In the closet behind old breeches him navy coat buttons shine back at her.
— Found it, luv? Quinn say.
— Yes, massa, Lilith say.
— So we’re back at massa, eh? Well, bring it here then. Bring it—
Lilith hear a crash. She run out but stop at the entry to the kitchen. Quinn look down at the cup that just slip from him hand. He bend over to pick up the pieces and nearly collapse. He grab on to the kitchen counter and him knees buckle. Quinn try to walk to the table and almost fall. He grab a chair back in time and balance himself. Quinn try to pull himself up. Lilith look at him eye and see him frighten, not just frighten, but frighten like nigger fear. He look at the shattered teacup and the tea steaming on the stove. — Ohh my G. . Oh my Go. . he say. He pull himself up, but slip and grab the tablecloth and pull everything off on the floor. The plate shatter and the pot of beef turn over and throw the beef out. The beef slide all the way up to Lilith foot. She follow it back to him on the floor. Quinn gasping, he eyes red. He look at Lilith, red with fury, then white with sadness. He trying to catch breath as he pull himself up again. Ye, ye, Lilith?. . Ye. . yhh. ., he say. Quinn pulling himself over to Lilith. Lilith wipe away the first tear but let the rest run down her face. Quinn eye red like he crying too. He stagger over to where Lilith be and leap at her like a wild boar that get shot. He grab her by the neck. Him weight slam her against the wall and Lilith shriek. Robert Quinn breathing heavy. L. . L. . Lilith? he say. He squeeze her neck harder and Lilith start to gag. He slam her head against the wall until him hand slip. Quinn knees buckle again and he falling. He grab on to her bosom and rip the dress and he fall on the floor. Lilith wail out loud. She look at Robert Quinn lying on the floor and wail again, then she compose herself and grab him by the boots and drag him into the bedroom. She sweep the broke cup into a sack and hope he did drink enough.
Homer gone fifty-six lash and she still screaming. Most nigger would pretend to be out by now, just so the whipper would have pity and stop. Richardson look like he just starting. Blood dripping on the ground. Massa Humphrey watching from the terrace with no feeling on him face. Miss Isobel come out for a little but go back inside. Then a huge flock of noisy bird fly frantic over the great house, making a ruckus and Massa Humphrey look up.
— Richardson. Richardson, quit! Stop, will ya? A slave-driver say.
— Fookin’ hell, I’m just getting into the thick of it, Richardson say.
— Master Wilson’s calling you.
The drivers disperse the niggers back to the field, leaving Homer swinging. Richardson run up to the terrace but Massa Humphrey running down the step. Massa Humphrey run to him horse and Richardson look up in the sky and gasp until Massa Humphrey shout to get his arse on a horse. Richardson look up in the sky again. High up and flying over was black smoke, thick like a cloud. Black smoke coming from the east. From Worthy Park plantation.
Lilith watching Robert Quinn in the bed. Usually when he sleeping he breathe heavy but now he peaceful. Lilith know that he not going call her lovey again. She not goin’ see him again unless is in front of a gun barrel. Lilith think ’bout what she not to think. About a different Montpelier where Robert Quinn live with her and she wear white to a wedding and they have three pickney all different colour. Or a different one where she is just the woman of the cottage and she accept that life even though she be him wife in every way but name. Dreaming is for fool nigger, she say to herself. This time next year he would be hunting new pussy in Spanish Town and forget all about the green-eye niggerwoman who betray him. Lilith tell that to herself so that she can hate him a little. It don’t work, so she tell herself more.
Homer close her eyes.
Two o’clock.
From six estate, house negro women find a secret place that open to the sky, reach for the abeng and blow. They blow a sound long and strong. White mens and black mens hear it but the womens in the field act first. As soon as the abeng blow, they stand still to they side with the cutlass, hoe and rake. The mens confuse at first and keep on reaping.
— What sort of lark is this? say one of the white driver.
— Git back to work before I flogs the days work of ye! Go on now, git goin’.
The womens stand still. The mens watching. They look at the womens as they shake they heads. One woman, then two, then five, then ten. And still more. The mens nod and understand. One by one, each man rest him hand with the cutlass to him side. Three white mens up but one was still sleeping.
— Git yer arse up, McClusky! We’ve got trouble, ye bastard! say one as he kick McClusky in the foot.
— Fuckin’ hell! McClusky say and rub his eye. He sit up from under the tree he was sleeping. — Wot’s it now, Jerry, wanna go over for a hit again, d’you?
— Look, ye son of a bitch.
— Wot the devil? McClusky jump up and uncoil him whip. — All right, all right, everybody’s had their spot o’ fun, now git back to work, the lot of you! Come on.
The womens and the mens still.
— Oh? Is that wot it’s gonna be like, yeah? You think you can do as you well please, is that it? We’ll see about that, yes we will.
McClusky swing and lash a woman clear ’cross her belly. She scream but don’t move. He lash her again.
— Git back to work, says I! he say. The other drivers looking around at the niggermens and womens all standing still and staring. McClusky getting redder.
— I’ll lash the fuckin’ soul out o’ you niggers when I’m done, goddamn black bitch. McClusky swing the whip again, but a man jump in the way.
— Oh, so you want some of my discipline as well, Poseidon? Well, come and git it, you half-plucked blunderbuss.
McClusky pulling away the whip, but Poseidon grab it. McClusky try to pull, but Poseidon hold on. Poseidon yank the whip and nearly pull McClusky to the ground. McClusky gulp. He look left, then right, then left, and only see blackness.
— I says, I. . git, git back to work, the lot o’ you! Right now says I, I say right now! Poseidon yank the whip out of McClusky hand and wrap it round he own arm. The mens and womens turn to McClusky and the three white mens behind him.
— McClusky, one of them whisper.
— Shut up, Charters! There shall be no uppity niggers on my watch, not as long as I have this to say about it. McClusky grab he musket and aim. The other two men aim they rifle too. The mens and womens still.
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