Authors: Alex Haley
but it was dark, and he found nothing.
Lizzie sided with the Hendersons. Surely Queen had run away, like so many
other slaves. And it was such a relief. All her married life there had been
a barrier between herself and Jass. It had hurt her desperately when he
went off to Easter at night, leaving Lizzie to pine for him. It had hurt
her more when Jass brought the brat child to live in the big house, to have
her nearer to him, and to flaunt his love for Easter in her face. Even
after Easter had died, the hurt remained. She wished no harm to Queen, she
hoped she wasn't hurt, but she had to believe that Queen was gone for good.
Because every time she looked at Queen, it reminded her of Easter, and re-
minded her that her husband had loved another woman more than her. A nigra.
She was angry with Queen for giving no indication of her intentions, and
Jass for worrying about her; she banged pots on the stove as she prepared
some food, and prayed that she would never have to see Queen again.
She went out to the veranda to tell Jass his meal was ready, and he nodded,
and said he'd be in directly.
"Are you going to sit here all night?" Lizzie asked him. Jass turned to
look at her, and Lizzie hated what she saw in his eyes.
"Well, it's on the table when you're ready," she snapped. "Don't blame me
if it gets cold."
She went into the house and called Sally to the table. They ate their meal
in silence. Sally, like Lizzie, was sure that Queen had run away, and it
hurt her that the child had not said good-bye, but she could hardly blame
her.
Jass stared at the moon, convinced that some mischief had befallen Queen,
but not knowing what to do, or how to begin to find her. In the silence
that surrounded him, he heard a sound that was not of the night. It was the
clinking of a horse's bridle.
QUEEN 571
Queen's horse came trotting up the drive to him. Jass went to the animal
and held it, felt it for injury, and then looked to the stars.
He took the horse to the stable to give it feed.
Queen ate her fill of the simple stew, and sat staring at the campfire.
The black men were still hostile to her. "She ain't stayin'," one said,
and Pearl turned on him.
"She a po' nigger, like us, an' she tired an' scared," she said. "We look
after her, like we would any nigger."
The men lapsed into aggressive silence, and Pearl put her arm around
Queen.
"Is yo' tired?" she asked, and Queen nodded, suddenly desperately,
achingly tired.
Pearl fetched a blanket from a lean-to, and wrapped it around Queen. "Lie
down here by the fire," she ordered, and Queen did as she was bidden.
"Keep yo' warm," Pearl said, 11 give yo' light to see. Yo' is safe now.
Yo' with yo' own nigger folk now."
Queen tightened the blanket around her, and stared at the flames of the
fire.
"She ain't stayin'," she heard one of the men say. "Fust light, she
leavin'."
Pearl ignored him, and started to sing a soft lullaby. The flames of the
fire danced in Queen's eyes. She wasn't wanted here, and would not stay.
This was not- her place. These were not her people.
But neither was The Forks of Cypress. She did not fit into this world or
that. She stared at the flames, and in her mind they became threatening.
She thought she could see the buming brands of her pursuers, and those
flames would haunt her for the rest of her life.
There was only the night. And the fire. And the soft, sweet lullaby.
66
lass was up at first light. He took some bread and cheese from the kitchen,
saddled a horse, and went looking for Queen. He intended to ask at every
house in the district, search every barn if need be, but his first call was
to the Hendersons. They had not told him all they knew, he was sure. As he
rode, he contemplated offering a small reward for information as to her
whereabouts, but wondered if that was fair to her. If she had run away,
which he did not for one moment believe, then perhaps she would not want to
be found.
He cursed himself for a blind, selfish fool. Lizzie had been angry with him
all the previous evening, had hardly spoken to him until they went to bed,
and when he tried to caress her, she turned away from him. He'd provoked
her to tell him what was wrong, and then all of her frustrations came
tumbling out. Jass was astonished, and bitterly regretful. He had never re-
alized how deeply his relationship with Easter had hurt Lizzie, and how
much she resented Queen's presence in the big house. He had thought that
Lizzie approved of Easter, because her presence reduced his sexual need for
his wife, who had not seemed to welcome their lovernaking. In that sense
he was right, but now he understood that it was not the physical side of
his relationship with Easter that infuriated Lizzie, it was the love.
"She made you smile, she made you laugh, she made you happy, in a way that
I never could," Lizzie had told him through her tears. And it was true.
" But you are my wife," he told Lizzie, "and I love you."
"More than you loved her?" Lizzie asked, and all he could say was that it
was different.
He should not have brought Queen into the big house; he should have known
that just looking at the child was a slap
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QUEEN 573
in the face to Lizzie, for Queen was the embodiment of Easter.
"Easter was just a slave," Jass insisted. "A nigra-"
"Yes!" Lizzie cried. "And you loved her." And it was true.
"I couldn't ignore the child," he insisted again.
"But did you have to love her?" Lizzie cried again. And it was true.
He did love Queen, but not as he loved his children by Lizzie; they were
different, flesh of his formal union with his legal wife, his heirs, his
darlings. Queen was an enchantment, a toy, a plaything, a little innocent
doll that he had created, who gave him pleasure.
"And what about my pleasure?" Lizzie asked him, quietly now, for her
crying was done. "Did you ever consider that?"
And it was true. He had not considered her. He had been a good husband
and provider, and he had done his duty by their marriage. But he had
never considered Lizzie's feelings, she who should have had tirst demand
on him.
"I'll make it up to you somehow, Lizzie, I swear," he promised her,
caressing her swollen stomach.
"But you will not forget Queen," she said. And it was true.
He would tind her and he would bring her home, if she wanted to come
home, and he had no idea what arrangements he would make for their future
so that all could be happy, but although he would respect Lizzie's
feelings and be more attentive to her, he would not dismiss Queen.
Queen woke at dawn, bitten by mosquitoes and stiff and sore. The men would
not speak to her, but Pearl made her something to eat, and told her how
to get back to The Forks, but reluctantly.
"Ain't nuttin' to' yo' there," she said.
Queen shrugged, not knowing what to say. She walked north through the
woods, as Pearl had told her, and two hours later she broke through the
trees, and saw the familiar road home. Dirty and disheveled, burrs
sticking in her hair, she limped to The Forks, turned in at the gate, and
made her way up the drive. She walked to the back of the house and went
into the kitchen.
Lizzie was cooking. She heard the door open and saw
574 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Queen come in. Her heart sank. She had convinced herself that she had seen
the last of Queen, that the girl had run away, like the brat nigra she was,
and would never come back. Yet she was back, and Lizzie, after her argument
with Jass the previous night, could not imagine how she would cope.
"Where have you been?" she said, evenly.
Queen walked to a chair at the table and sat down. "I sorry, Missy," she
said. "I had some trouble."
"And are you aware of how much trouble you've caused here?" Lizzie asked
her.
Queen hardly expected words of comfort or solace from Lizzie, but she had
not expected anger.
"No thought for us, no word of warning," Lizzie said. "Just off and away,
like the no-account nigra you are. In the old days we'd have set the dogs
after you. Get yourself cleaned up and get to work."
Fireworks of anger were starting to explode in Queen's mind.
"I sorry, I-- she began, but Lizzie's temper broke before hers. "Your
Massa's been out since dawn looking for you, Miss Sally unable to sleep,
and me in my condition-"
Queen could not stand it anymore. They'd treat an old dog better than they
treated her. She rose to her feet in fury.
" He not my Massa, " she said. " He my pappy!
Lizzie slapped her face hard.
"How dare you say that! How dare you speak to me like that! "
But Queen dared. She would dare anything now, for she had nothing to lose.
"An' how dare you," she cried. "I ain't some animal for you to push around,
Queen do this, Queen do that, cook, wash, clean, garden, plant cotton, pick
cotton, morning till night, and never a word of thanks! You don't even
notice I exist until you want something done! Well, I do exist, Missus, and
I've got a fight to a little bit of happiness. An' if I cain't find it
here, I'll find it somewhere else."
The events of the previous night were the crack in the dam of her
frustration, and now it burst, and her loneliness came flooding out. She
did not belong in this white world, could not function in this white world,
would never be accepted by
QUEEN 575
this white family for what she was, which was one of them. For she was not
one of them. She was some curious addendum to their lives, without place or
purpose, other than as willing slave, and she didn't want to be a slave
anymore.
She didn't want to be a slave to anyone, she didn't want to be a slave to
this family, and most of all, she didn't want to be a slave to her love for
her father, for it would never be returned in a way that would have any
value to her. Simple recognition of her existence was hardly an adequate
substitute for love. For the first time in her life Queen realized that her
heart was empty, and that she wanted it to be full.
Lizzie was shocked by her impudence. "How dare you," she said. "After all
we've done for you."
"You ain't ever done nothing for me," Queen responded as she walked out of
the room. "An' you won't ever have to now.
She didn't run, because there was nothing to run to or from. She walked
slowly up the stairs, repeating in her mind what she had said to Lizzie,
elaborating on it, embroidering it, until it became a litany of the woes of
her life. She went to her room, washed herself clean, and brushed her hair.
As she looked in her little mirror, she repeated her speech to Lizzie
again, and it was longer still. She remembered every tiny hurt, every
unkind word, every flick of the switch to her behind. She finished on a
triumphant note, demolishing the phantom Lizzie, and, anger spent, she
giggled. She wondered what Lizzie's face looked like when she'd left the
kitchen.
She changed into her Sunday best, and packed a little suitcase with her few
belongings. She gave no thought to her destination or to her purse, which
was almost empty, for her obsession was to leave. She did think of saying
good-bye to Sally, but decided against it. As kind as the old Missy was,
she was the one who had first told her to go.
But she did have to say good-bye to someone. She put on her bonnet, picked
up her suitcase, and took a last look at her tiny, sparsely furnished room.
She went downstairs, hoping she wouldn't run into any of the family, left
the house by the front door, and made her way to the slave graveyard to say
good-bye to her mammy.
"I got to go, Mammy," she told Easter. "Ain't no place for me here."
576 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
The grave was untidy and overgrown. Queen hadn't had time to tend it, and
the weeds were flourishing in the warm, spring sun. Queen knelt and pulled
at the weeds.
"Pappy don't know yet," she said. "I don't want to see .him. I'm going
afore he gets back."
It wasn't completely true. Part of her didn't want to face Jass, but
perhaps part of her hoped that if she did see him he would say what she had
always longed for him to say, and make everything all right again. In her
heart she knew it probably wouldn't happen, but she could not dismiss the
hope. And having made the decision to go, she was terrified of the con-