Queen (107 page)

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Authors: Alex Haley

BOOK: Queen
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    He looked at her, and if he felt any surprise, he did not show it. He

    came in, shut the door, and put a small brown bag of provisions on the

    table. He moved close to her, and touched her hair, but then dropped his

    hand to his side, as if waiting to be told what to do. She took his hand

    in hers, drew it to her mouth, and kissed it tenderly. She moved his hand

    to her neck, and traced it down over her body, and put her free hand to

    his neck and traced it down over his chest. She turned her face up to him

    and looked deep into his wondrous eyes, to let him know that she was

    ready to give him whatever he wanted to take.

    Still for a moment he did not move. Then he leaned down to her, for he

    was so tall and she so tiny, and gently kissed her lips and let the tip

    of his tongue discover the taste of her. His mouth moved to her eyes, and

    he kissed each in turn, gently, and she closed them, as she knew he

    wanted her to do.

    QUEEN 651

 

    He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her gently down. He

    sat on the edge of the bed for a while, stroking her hair and neck, and

    then lay beside her and kissed her, and opened his mouth to her, to let

    her know that he would be passive and not force himself upon her. She let

    her tongue caress his, and his mouth yielded to her, and seemed infinite.

    As she kissed him, she stroked his body with her hands-his neck, his

    shoulders, his chest, Carefully, she undid the buttons at the neck of his

    shirt, and pulled the garment free from his pants, pushed it upward and

    upward, until she had to break the kiss, and now he helped a little by

    pulling the shirt over his head and off, but lay down again. He moved his

    hands to her blouse and repeated the actions she had done to him, a

    mirror image of her need, not his. When her breasts were free, he stroked

    them, staring at them and at her, and delicately kissed her nipples.

    She was suspended in time. The lack of urgency in him released her

    inhibitions, and it was she who directed his hands to where she wanted

    them to be. Naked now, they lay for an hour, touching, kissing,

    caressing, until his manhood became a friend to her, and she welcomed

    that friend into her body. They lay side by side, joined as one flesh,

    he hardly moving until a soft thrusting of her hips told him that it was

    time to do so. Never dominant, never assertive, he concentrated all his

    attention on her pleasure, as if his own were irrelevant. In the days and

    nights to come he would pay more attention to his own needs, but this

    time was for her.

    It was exotic, languorous love to her, bringing her a pleasure she had

    not even imagined existed. Holding him close to her, deep inside her, her

    hands stroked the welts on his back that were the focus of her love, for

    she believed she would heal his heart, and leave it clear and unscarred,

    unlike his back, no matter how deep the wounds there.

    When it was done, they lay together, like naked, pagan children, and tiny

    tears of love appeared in Queen's eyes. Davis leaned over her.

    "On the plantation I swore I would drink the tears of every black who

    ever cried," he told her softly.

Her put his mouth to her eyes and drank her tears.

"It would be an ocean," he whispered.

652 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

    He worried that it had been bad for her, that he had hurt her, but she

    shook her head, and laughed away his concerns. She nestled into his

    powerful embrace, touched his lips with her fingers, and asked why he did

    not smile. So he smiled for her, and held her hand, and could not tell her

    the depth of his love, for he had never found love in the world before, and

    his could not match her own.

    She came to him every Thursday, and brought little comforts for the shack,

    but nothing that would make him feel that she was trying to tame him. They

    made love every Thursday, and he never betrayed her trust in him, and never

    took more from her than she could give.

    Fall came, and the first chill of winter. He fixed some old glass into the

    open space that was his window, and bought a stove so that they might be

    warm. He celebrated Christmas at church with her, and then walked her home

    to the sisters, for she had to serve their dinner. She gave him her gift,

    a new shirt, and he was embarrassed, because he had nothing for her. He had

    never given anything to anyone, because he had never had anyone to give

    anything to. She laughed, and told him it didn't matter. His love was all

    the present she needed. Yet she wanted something more.

    "I want yo' baby," she whispered to him one night when they lay in each

    other's arms, and she thought he was asleep. She wanted to feel his seed

    quicken inside her, and swell and grow big in her belly, until she exploded

    with the product of his love.

 

Davis was not asleep, but he did not stir, did not open his eyes. He did not

want her to know he had heard her, for he did not know how to explain to her

that he would not bring a child into this world.

    From his earliest memories he had been consumed with bitterness at his

    enslaved state. A dark and rebellious boy, he had grown into a darker, more

    rebellious man, and he viewed with contempt those other slaves who seemed

    prepared to tolerate their imprisonment, or make the best of it, for Davis

    saw no good to be made of it. He was known only by his given name, because

    he refused to take the surname of his Massa, as was common practice on the

    plantations, and would not

    QUEEN 653

 

answer to it if called. He had a strong need for women, but avoided them,

and deliberately chose an ascetic life, shunning human contact. He wanted

no consolation or condolence for his plight, and no simple comfort that

might ease it. Much as he pined for a wife and children, he would not

bring a child into this world, born into bondage. All he wanted was his

freedom and when he had it he would be his own man and until then he would

not belong to anyone.

    Not even his Massa. He did as little work as he possibly could, was the

    bane of the overseers, and felt the frequent bite of the lash. He ran

    away at the first opportunity, and thought himself, for a moment, free.

    He was exultant, but the reality that his freedom was a myth soon became

    clear to him. As able and resourceful as he was, the chances of being

    able to get from southern Alabama to the northern side of the MasonDixon

    line were virtually impossible, and he did not know how to contact anyone

    on the Underground Railroad that might have eased his passage. Slave

    catchers and dogs came after him, and within days he was back at the

    plantation and was given a hundred lashes. Since he could not escape to

    any secure freedom, he set his mind to breaking his Massa's will. He ran

    away whenever he could, fully expecting to be caught, taken back, and

    lashed. Eventually, he thought, they must see reason, eventually they

    must understand that he would not stay, and then they would let him go.

    Or kill him. Like Cap'n Jack before him, he thought slavery irrational

    and he could not understand why rational people tolerated it. In this,

    like .Cap'n Jack, he profoundly underestimated the society he was dealing

    with. His Massa would willingly have killed him rather than let him be

    free, for to let one slave go simply because he didn't want to be a slave

    was to undermine everything the society was built on, and stood for, and

    aspired to.

    Marked as a persistent and dangerous troublemaker, when the war came

    Davis was kept in leg shackles, so that he would not escape, for then he

    might have made it to sanctuary. When he was released from those shackles

    with emancipation, it was almost anticlimactic to him. Having fought

    against one thing all his life, now he had nothing left to fight for, and

    he did not know what he wanted to achieve. Being free, he discovered, was

    rfot enough for him.

654 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

    He traveled northward and what he saw appalled him. The vaunted equality of

    reconstruction was turning into a jungle of survival by shameless

    opportunists and many good and decent men were trampled in the rush.

    Segregation was rampant, and they could not even ride in the same streetcar

    as whites. Although some black men with property could vote, how many black

    men had that much property? The merits of a few, a very few, were being

    recognized, but that was mostly patronage, crumbs from the white man's

    table. And it would always be like that. Always and always and always. No

    white man would ever give real power to a black man, or real freedom. It

    had to be taken.

    When Queen told him that she wanted his baby, his soul blenched. There was

    nothing for a black boy in this world, and it was even worse for a black

    girl.

    He loved Queen as much as he could, but not as much as she loved him. Her

    love collided with his hate, and it made the pain worse than any white

    man's lash, and sweeter than any honey.

 

Queen never told him again that she wanted his baby, because there was no

need. He had already given her the gift that she wanted from him.

 

    76

 

She told no one about it until it was inevitable. She didn't

believe it herself until it was inevitable. When she missed her

time of the month in late November, she wasn't unduly con

cemed, for she was not always regular, but as the days dragged

through December she began to worry, and before Christmas

she was sure. She was lethargic and often unwell, and even

though she tried to pretend it was because of winter chills,

every morning she looked in the mirror and held her stomach

to see if it was growing, if her secret was starting to show.

    QUEEN 655

 

Then the Preacher gave a sermon about lust and fornication, and the plight

of the poor innocents brought into the world by those who could not, would

not, avoid temptation.

    "Fornication, and all uncleanness, let it not be named among you; let it

    not be once named among you, as becometh saints! "

    Queen believed the words were directed exclusively at her, and cried a

    little, for she thought what she did with Davis was beautiful, and not

    unclean, but blessed in the sight of the Lord. And He had rewarded her

    with this precious gift, which would be hers and hers alone, and which

    she would love. She fought the guilt the Preacher made her feel, and

    became resentful, for the angel had called Mary blessed, and she was so

    in awe of the process of creation, of the miracle of this tiny thing

    growing inside her, that she believed it divine.

    " From fornication, and all other deadly sin; from all the deceits of the

    world, the flesh, and the devil, good Lord, deliver us."

    She flushed, for she had been deceitful. She had deceived Joyce and the

    sisters by not telling them about her baby. She had even deceived Davis

    by telling him that she wanted his child and not telling him her wish had

    been granted. But she did not believe she had sinned.

"Deliver us, 0 Lord, deliver us. Hallelujah!"

    The rising shouts of the congregation, in full-throated agreement with

    the Preacher, made her despair, and she began to worry about the future

    of her child, if he should be fatherless, for she had already decided it

    was a boy. She despaired for herself, for what would people say to her,

    do to her, when they found out? She looked at Davis, who was sitting

    beside her. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. Queen wondered if

    he had guessed already, but knew he had not.

    Someone else had guessed. Joyce kept her eyes on Queen during the sermon,

    and saw the guilt, the eyes cast down to the floor. She saw Queen took

    at Davis, saw him take her hand, and saw the great need that Queen had

    for him. Joyce sighed, and prayed she was wrong, but knew she was not.

    She would deal with it when it had to be dealt with, and until then she

    could only pray.

656 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

Someone else had guessed as well. Miss Gippy had sharp ears, sharper eyes,

and a fervid imagination. She had no experience with pregnancy, but had a

fascination with fallen women, being so far from the precipice herself. In

her younger days she had spent much time in Boston, lecturing to those who

had strayed from the straight and narrow, and had questioned them avidly.

She thought she knew all the classic symptoms, even if that knowledge was

superficial. When she heard Queen being sick a couple of times in the

morning, she smiled smugly to herself, and made a wild, but utterly correct,

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