Queen (108 page)

guess as to the reason. Miss Gippy said nothing to her sister. She preferred

to wait and see what developed and take advantage of those developments to

save the sinner from hell. Disillusioned with the life the Lord had assigned

her, Miss Gippy had an occasional maliciousness about her, which her sister

did not share.

    Miss Mandy, who should have been the first to guess, never did, and had to

    be told. And finally it was too choice a secret for Miss Gippy to keep to

    herself.

    Queen had developed a curious habit. Plentifully supplied with food from

    the sister's pantry, she began to steal food. It was no great crime,

    because the odd thing was that she took only what she could have had for

    free. It didn't happen very often, but occasionally, when she was depressed

    or agitated, concerned for the future welfare of her boy. She would filch

    a piece of toast from Miss Gippy's morning tray, or snatch a cake from the

    afternoon tea stand. She served breakfast one morning-crisply fried bacon

    and poached eggs, toast and butter and jam-and she stood waiting at the

    table as the sisters said their prayers. She always had to wait until the

    prayers were done, in case they needed anything more once they began to

    eat, and she was expected to pray with them.

    Miss Mandy's eyes were firmly closed, as it was her turn to lead the

    prayer. Queen, who knew she could not keep her condition secret much

    longer, had her eyes firmly open, and fixed on the basket of toast.

    "0 Lord, we thank Thee for Thy precious bounty," Miss Mandy intoned. "And

    for Thy many blessings on these Thy humble servants."

    Sure that no one was watching her, sure that the sisters' eyes were closed

    in prayer, Queen, quickly, furtively, grabbed

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a piece of toast from the table, hid it under her apron, and stuffed it

into her pocket.

    "Queen, what on earth are you doing?" Miss Gippy said sharply. Her eyes

    had been only partially closed, and watching Queen.

    Queen flushed, and prayed that the floor would open up and swallow her.

    "Nuttin', Missy," she said, lapsing into dialect, as she always did when

    she was nervous. "I ain't done nuttin'."

Miss Mandy looked up, wondering what the fuss was about.

    "I saw you take that piece of toast," Miss Gippy admonished. "Don't we

    feed you enough, that you have to steal from our very table?"

    Queen couldn't think of anything to say, and looked at the floor.

    "The eighth commandment, girl!" Miss Gippy snapped. To Miss Mandy, the

    situation was completely confusing, but she understood there had been a

    puzzling crisis, and discipline was needed.

    "I think you'd better go to your room," Miss Mandy said, longing to be

    alone with her sister, to find out what the matter was.

"After you've put the toast back," Miss Gippy added.

    The miserable Queen took the toast from her pocket, put it back in its

    basket, and scurried from the room. Miss Mandy waited for some word from

    her sister, but Miss Gippy was enjoying herself far too much. She

    buttered a piece of toast, spread it liberally with apple jelly, and took

    a bite from it.

"Well?" Miss Mandy asked.

    There was another little silence while Miss Gippy chewed her food. It was

    not good manners to speak with your mouth full. She took a sip of tea and

    sprinkled salt on her eggs.

"Nesting," she said casually, and tucked into her breakfast.

    It was as well that she did so, and thus could not see the look on her

    sister's face. Miss Mandy stared at her, first with amazement, and then

    with something very close to hate. At that moment, she hated Gippy, she

    hated Queen, she hated the world. It was her dearest wish in life to have

    a child, and now even the physical possibility of it was gone. She was

    consumed with envy. She had been so good all her life, and loved

658 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

the Lord, and He had denied her this simple reward. Yet Queen, immoral,

illegitimate, nigra Queen, had been providentially blessed. 'Me reward for

chastity was emptiness, and the wages of sin were glorious. It simply wasn't

fair, and her only defense was to denounce the animal propensities of all

blacks.

"Pagans," she whispered harshly.

    Miss Gippy nodded her agreement, a tiny drop of egg yolk dribbling down her

    chin. She picked up her napkin and wiped it away, entirely satisfied with

    her morning.

Queen sat on her bed, rocking gently, and keening, pity for her own distress

and a lullaby for her unborn child.

    She had no alternative now. She had to tell someone, ask someone for help.

    But it would not be Davis.

    " I warned you," Joyce said angrily. "Don't let him get too close, I said!"

    "Well, I did!" Queen blazed back. "So there ain't no point in makin'

    speeches about it!"

    She turned away, her flash of anger quickly spent and dejection its

    immediate successor.

    "What am I going to do, Joyce?" she cried. Joyce moved quickly to her, and

    held her.

    " Hush, girl, no use cryin'," she said. "Ain't no use in cryin' now."

    But she let Queen cry, and then dried her eyes, and told her it was only

    proper that Davis should know. It was his baby. She did not understand why

    Queen was so reluctant. It was unlikely that Davis would hit her, and it

    was right that he share the burden. Maybe, if they were lucky, Davis would

    do what he should; certainly he would if Joyce had anything to do with it.

    Queen could not explain to Joyce that she was sure Davis would not marry

    her, because she was scared to admit it to herself. In the end she agreed

    to tell him, but only if Joyce went with her.

    Davis stared at her, and those eyes that she loved so seemed full of

    reproach. In this she was right, but he was not angry with her. Only with

    himself.

Joyce was impatient. "She say it's your'n, and she ain't a

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liar, so what you gwine do about it," she demanded.

Davis said nothing, and Queen could not bear his silence.

    "I's sorry," she said, and to her relief and amazement, Davis smiled.

    "Guess I's gwine have to marry you," he said. Queen closed her eyes, and

    told her heart to be still, but it would not. When she opened her eyes

    again, he was still there, and still smiling. She got up, to fly into his

    arms, but Joyce had a few things to say first.

    "Not so fast, missy," Joyce commanded, and Queen stayed where she was.

    Joyce turned her attention to Davis.

    "She weren't gwine tell you, coz she didn't want to force you to marry

    her," Joyce told him, to Queen's surprise. She had not told Joyce this,

    Joyce had guessed.

    "But she don't want you if yo' jus' marryin' her coz you must," Joyce

    continued. "She don't want you if'n you don't love her." Queen hadn't told

    Joyce this either, but it was close to the truth.

    The smile had faded from Davis's lips. He listened to what Joyce had to

    say, and then turned and looked out of the window at the moonlight on the

    river. He could not lie; he could only tell them the truth. He adored

    Queen; he respected her and admired her. He thought she was the dearest

    thing he had ever met, filled up with love, and she deserved a fine man,

    and boundless happiness. By rights, that man should be him. The child was

    his, and Queen loved him. He would fulfill his duty, and marry her, if that

    was what she wanted, for he couldn't bear to think of her raising his child

    in this dark world on her own. But if loving her was the test, then he

    failed, and he could only be honest.

    "I don't know if I loves you," he said. "I don't think I know what love

    is."

    He saw the sadness wash into Queen's eyes, and guilt attacked his

    conscience. He could not do this to her.

    "But if'n I's gonna find out from anyone, I reckon it's you," he said. "And

    I will try and love you."

    The effect on Queen was miraculous, and it seemed to satisfy Joyce.

    "I surely hope so," she said. "Coz if'n you don't, if you don't look after

    this child and cherish her like she deserves, I

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will come fo' you wherever you are, and I'll fix you so you cain't never

give any go' girl a baby again."

She stressed her point, to be sure that he understood.

"Y'know I will," she said.

"I know y'will," Davis agreed.

Joyce had done as much as she could. She looked at Queen.

    "Now you c'n go to him," she said. And when she saw the love shining out of

    Queen's eyes, her heart melted. Queen moved into Davis's arrns, and he held

    her close to him, and hated himself for what he had done.

Queen stayed with him that night, and they made their plans. Davis said he

would do whatever she wanted, and they could stay if that was her wish, but

he thought the sisters would make things difficult, that Queen's condition

would offend them, and they would sack either or both of them. It was better

they go somewhere else.

    For himself, he did not want to give up on all his plans. He'd always

    wanted to go North, because if there was any future for black people, it

    was there. And they should go soon, before the sisters found out, and while

    they still had the chance to set up a new life before the child was born.

    "Anywhere," Queen told him. "Anywhere in the whole wide world that you want

    to go, I will go with you."

    Then she laughed, and corrected herself. "We will go with you.

    Davis put his hand on her stomach. He couldn't feel anything but the warmth

    of her flesh, and he envied the child, cozy and safe inside her, secure

    from the travails of the world. Just for a moment, he regretted that he had

    ever been born.

    "Don't love me too much," he whispered. "All I ever do is make people cry."

    But his warning came too late. She loved him too much already.

    They would leave on Thursday. It was her afternoon off, and would arouse no

    suspicion from the sisters. He would leave work early, saying he had to buy

    plants, and would meet her at the coach depot.

The change in Queen was blatantly apparent to Miss Mandy, but she attributed

it to the wrong reason. She thought Queen's

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radiant happiness was due to her pregnancy, and her envy of her servant's

condition magnified. She wanted to confront Queen, call her the baggage that

she was, and kick her out, and that animal man with her, and she begged the

Lord for forgiveness of her sin. To her surprise, the Lord answered her

prayer, and her jealousy gave way to her blissful realization that soon she

would have a little baby in the house, to love as her own. From then on, her

happiness rivaled Queen's, and she was solicitous to Queen, and constantly

on guard for her welfare, while still not admitting that she knew the child

was coming.

    But the baby was not the only reason for Queen's mood. Much as she already

    loved the tiny thing, her real joy came from the fact that soon the child

    would have a proper home in which to be born and to grow and to be loved,

    and a mother and father to do that loving, which she had never had. It did

    not matter that Davis did not love her as much as she loved him. He loved

    her more than anyone else had ever done.

    On Thursday afternoon, she packed a few things in a small case, and waited

    until the sisters went to their rooms for their afternoon nap. She crept

    down the stairs and into the kitchen, and let herself out by the back door.

    She saw Davis working in the front garden, and waved to him happily, but

    did not go to him in case either of the sisters was looking out of the

    window. She left by the back gate, and walked quickly down the lane, and

    again down another lane, until she was a few blocks from the house. She sat

    on a park bench at peace with the world, until she heard the clatter of

    horses' hooves that signaled the approaching streetcar.

    She went to Joyce's house to say good-bye. Joyce gave her a small posy of

    flowers, and wished her well. The women hugged, and cried together for a

    while, tears of happiness and loss. They sat in the rockers and talked of

    nothing until it was time to leave.

    Queen made her way to the coach depot, and got there early. She waited

    patiently for Davis, and she was never sure exactly when she knew he wasn't

    coming. Nor was she exactly sure when she realized that she had always

    known he wasn't going to come. Perhaps that was why she had been scared to

    tell him about the baby.

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    Perhaps she had known it when she did tell him, and had seen that look of

    reproach in his eyes, that she now understood had not been directed at