Krik_ Krak! - Edwidge Danticat [0]
Breath, Eyes, Memory
krik? krak!
krik? krak!
Edwidge Danticat
Copyright © 1991,1992,1993,1994 and 1995 by Edwidge Danticat
The following stories have been previously published, some of them in a slightly different form: "Children of the Sea" appeared under the title "From the Ocean Floor" in Short Fiction by Women (October 1993); "A Wall of Fire Rising" appeared under the title "A Wall of Fire" in Cymbals: The National Student Literary Magazine (Summer 1991); "The Missing Peace" in Just a Moment (Pine Grove Press, Fall 1992) and in The Caribbean Writer (July 1994); "Between the Pool and the Gardenias" in The Caribbean Writer (Summer 1993) and in Best of the Small Presses (Pushcart Press 1994) (winner of the Pushcart Prize) and also in Monologues By Women (Heinemann 1994) and "Night Women" appeared under the title "Voices in a Dream" in The Caribbean Writer (Summer 1993) as well as in Brown University's Clerestory (July 1994).
All rights reserved.
Published by
Soho Press Inc.
853 Broadway
New York, NY 10003
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Danticat, Edwidge, 1969-
Krik? Krak! / Edwidge Danticat.
p. cm.
ISBN 1-56947-025-1
1. Haitian Americans—Social life and customs—Fiction.
2. Haiti—Social life and customs—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3554-A58I5K75 1995
8138.54—dc20
94-41999
CIP
Book design and composition by The Sarabande Press
Manufactured in the United States
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
Krik? Krak! Somewhere by the seacoast I feel a breath
of warm sea air and hear the laughter of children.
An old granny smokes her pipe,
surrounded by the village children . . .
"We tell the stories so that the young ones
will know what came before them.
They ask Krik? we say Krak!
Our stories are kept in our hearts."
— SAL SCALORA,
"White Darkness/Black Dreamings"
Haiti: Feeding The Spirit
contents
1. Children of the Sea
2. Nineteen Thirty-Seven
3. A Wall of Fire Rising
4. Night Women
5. Between the Pool and the Gardenias
6. The Missing Peace
7. Seeing Things Simply
8. New York Day Women
9. Caroline's Wedding
Epilogue: Women Like Us
children of
the sea
They say behind the mountains are more mountains. Now I know it's true. I also know there are timeless waters, endless seas, and lots of people in this world whose names don't matter to anyone but themselves. I look up at the sky and I see you there. I see you crying like a crushed snail, the way you cried when I helped you pull out your first loose tooth. Yes, I did love you then. Somehow when I looked at you, I thought of fiery red ants. I wanted you to dig your fingernails into my skin and drain out all my blood.
I don't know how long we'll be at sea. There are thirty-six other deserting souls on this little boat with me. White sheets with bright red spots float as our sail.
When I got on board I thought I could still smell the semen and the innocence lost to those sheets. I look up there and I think of you and all those times you resisted. Sometimes I felt like you wanted to, but I knew you wanted me to respect you. You thought I was testing your will, but all I wanted was to be near you. Maybe it's like you've always said. I imagine too much. I am afraid I am going to start having nightmares once we get deep at sea. I really hate having the sun in my face all day long. If you see me again, I'll be so dark.
Your father will probably marry you off now, since I am gone. Whatever you do, please don't marry a soldier. They're almost not human.
haiti est comme tu l'as laissé. yes, just the way you left it. bullets day and night, same hole, same everything, i'm tired of the whole mess, i get so cross and irritable, i pass the time by chasing roaches around the house, i pound my heel on their heads, they make me so mad. everything makes me mad. i am cramped inside all day. they've closed the schools since the army took over, no one is mentioning the old president's name, papa burnt all his campaign posters and old buttons, manman buried her buttons in