Roots_ The Saga of an American Family - Alex Haley [195]
Oftentimes now, since Kizzy’s arrival, as Kunta drove the massa around to see his patients and his friends, he would find himself sharing the wish Bell had often expressed that the massa would marry again—although Kunta’s reasons were entirely different from Bell’s. “He jes’ be’s so pitiful to me livin’ all by hisself in dis big house. Fact, I believes dat’s how come he keep y’all always out dere in de buggy on dem roads, he jes’ want to keep hisself movin’, ruther’n settin’ roun’ here by hisself Lawd, even l’il ol’ Missy Anne sees it! Las’ time she was here, I was servin’ dem lunch an’ all of a sudden she say, ‘Uncle William, how come you ain’t got no wife like everybody else?’ An’ po’ thing, he didn’t know what to say to her.”
Though he had never told Bell about it because he knew how much she loved prying into toubob affairs, Kunta knew of several women who would run almost on their tiptoes out to meet the massa’s buggy whenever Kunta turned into their driveway. The fat black cook of one of massa’s more incurable patients had told Kunta scornfully, “Dat hateful huzzy ain’t got nothin’ wrong dat catchin’ yo’ massa wouldn’t cure mighty fast. She done already drive one man to de grave wid her ornery, evil ways, an’ now she jes’ claimin’ sickness to keep yo’ massa comin’ back here. I sho’ wish he could see her soon’s y’all leave, a-hollerin’ an’ carryin’ on at us niggers like we was mules or somethin’, an’ she don’t never touch dem medicines he give ’er!” There was another woman patient who would always come onto her front porch with the massa as he left, clinging to one of his arms as if she might fall, and looking up into his face while fluttering her fan weakly. But with both of these women, the massa always acted very stiff and formal, and his visits always seemed to be shorter than with his other patients.
So the months kept on rolling past, with Missy Anne being brought to visit Massa Waller about twice a week, and each time she came she’d spend hours playing with Kizzy. Though he was helpless to do anything about it, Kunta tried at least to avoid seeing them together, but they seemed to be everywhere he turned, and he couldn’t escape the sight of his little girl being patted, kissed, or fondled by the massa’s niece. It filled him with revulsion—and reminded him of an African saying so old that it had come down from the forefathers: “In the end, the cat always eats the mouse it’s played with.”
The only thing that made it bearable for Kunta was the days and nights in between her visits. It was summer by the time Kizzy began to crawl, and Bell and Kunta would spend the evenings in their cabin watching with delight as she scuttled about the floor with her little diapered behind upraised. But then Missy Anne would show up again and off they’d go, with the older girl frisking in circles around her shouting, “C’mon, Kizzy, c’mon!” and Kizzy crawling in pursuit as quickly as she could, gurgling with pleasure at the game and the attention. Bell would beam with pleasure, but she’d know that even if Kunta was away driving the massa, he only needed to find out that Missy Anne had been there to return to the cabin that night with his face set and his lips compressed, and for the rest of the night he would be totally withdrawn, which Bell found extremely irritating. But when she considered what might happen if Kunta should ever exhibit his feelings even vaguely in any manner that might reach the massa, she was also a little frightened when he acted that way.
So Bell tried to convince Kunta that no harm could come of the relationship if only he could bring himself to accept it. Oftentimes,