Native Son - Richard Wright [88]
“Why, nobody. I got it from the door.”
“When?”
“A few minutes ago. Anything wrong?”
Mr. Dalton looked round the entire kitchen, not at anything in particular, but just round the entire stretch of four walls, his eyes wide and unseeing. He looked back at Peggy; it was as if he had thrown himself upon her mercy; was waiting for her to say some word that would take the horror away.
“W-what’s the matter, Mr. Dalton?” Peggy asked again.
Before Mr. Dalton could answer, Mrs. Dalton groped her way into the kitchen, her white hands held high. Bigger watched her fingers tremble through the air till they touched Mr. Dalton’s shoulder. They gripped his coat hard enough to tear it from his body. Bigger, without moving an eyelid, felt his skin grow hot and his muscles stiffen.
“Henry! Henry!” Mrs. Dalton called. “What’s the matter?”
Mr. Dalton did not hear her; he still stared at Peggy.
“Did you see who left this letter?”
“No, Mr. Dalton.”
“You, Bigger?”
“Nawsuh,” he whispered, his mouth full of dry food.
“Henry, tell me! Please! For Heaven’s sake!”
Mr. Dalton put his arm about Mrs. Dalton’s waist and held her close to him.
“It’s…. It’s about Mary…. It’s…. She….”
“What? Where is she?”
“They…. They got her! They kidnapped her!”
“Henry! No!” Mrs. Dalton screamed.
“Oh, no!” Peggy whimpered, running to Mr. Dalton.
“My baby,” Mrs. Dalton sobbed.
“She’s been kidnapped,” Mr. Dalton said, as though he had to say the words over again to convince himself.
Bigger’s eyes were wide, taking in all three of them in one constantly roving glance. Mrs. Dalton continued to sob and Peggy sank into a chair, her face in her hands. Then she sprang up and ran out of the room, crying:
“Lord, don’t let them kill her!”
Mrs. Dalton swayed. Mr. Dalton lifted her and staggered, trying to get her through the door. As he watched Mr. Dalton there flashed through Bigger’s mind a quick image of how he had lifted Mary’s body in his arms the night before. He rose and held the door open for Mr. Dalton and watched him walk unsteadily down the dim hallway with Mrs. Dalton in his arms.
He was alone in the kitchen now. Again the thought that he had the chance to walk out of here and be clear of it all came to him, and again he brushed it aside. He was tensely eager to stay and see how it would all end, even if that end swallowed him in blackness. He felt that he was living upon a high pinnacle where bracing winds whipped about him. There came to his ears a muffled sound of sobs. Then suddenly there was silence. What’s happening? Would Mr. Dalton phone the police now? He strained to listen, but no sounds came. He went to the door and took a few steps into the hallway. There were still no sounds. He looked about to make sure that no one was watching him, then crept on tiptoe down the hall. He heard voices. Mr. Dalton was talking to someone. He crept farther; yes, he could hear…. I want to talk to Britten please. Mr. Dalton was phoning. come right over please yes at once something awful has happened I don’t want to talk about it over the phone That meant that when Britten came back he would be questioned again. yes right away I’ll be waiting
He had to get back to his room. He tiptoed along the hall, through the kitchen, down the steps and into the basement. The torrid cracks of the furnace gleamed in the crimson darkness and he heard the throaty undertone of the draft devouring the air. Was she burnt? But even if she were not, who would think of looking in the furnace for her? He went to his room, into the closet, closed the door and listened. Silence. He came out, left the door open and, in order to get to the closet quickly and without sound, pulled off his shoes. He lay again on the bed, his mind whirling, with images born of a multitude of impulses. He could run away; he could remain; he could even go down and confess what he had done. The mere thought that these avenues of action were open to him made him feel free, that his life was his, that he held his future in his hands. But they would never think that he had done it; not a meek black boy