Roots_ The Saga of an American Family - Alex Haley [302]
“Dat’s de truth, you right.” She looked down at the figures that she had written. “George, I jes’ can’t hardly b’lieve we’s talkin’ ’bout what we is—” She felt herself beginning to dare to believe it, that the two of them, together, were actually engaging for the first time in a monumental family discussion. She felt an intense urge to spring around the table and embrace him as tightly as she could. But she felt too much to move—or even speak for a few moments. Then she asked, “George, how come you got to thinkin’ dis?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I got by myself, an’ seem like I jes’ got to thinkin’ mo’, like I tol’ you—”
“Well,” she said softly, “sho’ is nice.”
“We ain’t gittin’ nowhere!” he exclaimed. “All we ever doin’ is gittin’ massa somewhere!” Matilda felt like shouting “Jubilee!” but made herself keep still. “I been talkin’ wid free niggers when me an’ massa go to cities,” George went on. “Dey say de free niggers up Nawth is de bes’ off. Say dem lives ’mongst one ’nother in dey own houses, an’ gits good jobs. Well, I know I can git me a job! Plenty cockfightin’ up Nawth! Even famous cockfightin’ niggers I’se heared live right in dat New Yawk City, a Uncle Billy Roger, a Uncle Pete what got a big flock an’ own a great big gamblin’ joint, an’ another one call ‘Nigger Jackson’ dey say don’t nobody beat his birds, hardly!” He further astounded Matilda. “An’ ’nother thing—I wants to see our young’uns learnin’ to read an’ write, like you can.”
“Lawd, better’n me, I hope!” Matilda exclaimed, her eyes shining.
“An’ I wants ’em to learn trades.” Abruptly he grinned, pausing for effect. “How you reckon you look settin’ in yo’ own house, yo’ own stuffed furniture, an’ all dem l’il knickknacks? How ’bout Miss ’Tilda be axin’ de other free nigger womens over for tea in de mornin’s, an’ y’all jes’ settin’ roun’ talkin’ ’bout rangin’ y’all’s flowers, an’ sich as dat?”
Matilda burst into nearly shrieking laughter. “Lawd, man, you is jes’ crazy!” When she stopped laughing, she felt more love for him than she’d ever felt before. “I reckon de Lawd is done give me what I needs dis night.” Eyes welling, she put her hand on his. “You really think we can do it, George?”
“What you think I’se been settin’ up here talkin’ ’bout, woman?”
“You ’member de night we ’greed to marry, what I tol’ you?” His face said that he didn’t. “I tol’ you sump’n out’n de first chapter o’ Ruth. Tol’ you, ‘Whither thou goes’, I will go, an’ where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people—’ You don’t’member me sayin’ dat?”
“Yeah, I reckon.”
“Well, I ain’t never felt dat way more’n I does right now.”
CHAPTER 101
Removing his derby with one hand, with the other Chicken George held out to Massa Lea a small water pitcher that looked as if it were woven tightly of thick strands of wire. “My boy, Tom, de one we done name for you, Massa, he done made dis for his gran’mammy, but I jes’ want you to see it.”
Looking dubious, Massa Lea took the pitcher by its carved cowhorn handle and gave it a cursory inspection. “Uh-huh,” he grunted noncommittally.
George realized that he’d have to try harder. “Yassuh, made dat out’n jes’ ol’ rusty scrap barb wire, Massa. Built ’im a real hot charcoal fire an’ kept bendin’ an’ meltin’ one wire ’gainst ’nother ’til he got de shape, den give it a kin’ o’ brazin’ all over. Dat Tom always been real handy, Massa—”
He halted again, wanting some response, but none came.
Seeing that he’d have to reveal his real intent without gaining the tactical advantage of some advance positive reaction to Tom’s craftsmanship, George took the plunge. “Yassuh, dis boy been so proud o’ carryin’ yo’ name all his life, Massa, us all really b’lieves he jes’ git de chance, he make you a good blacksmith—”
An instantly disapproving expression came upon Massa Lea’s face, as if by reflex, and it fueled George’s determination not to fail Matilda and Kizzy in his promise to help Tom. He saw that he’d have to make what he knew would be the strongest appeal to Massa Lea—picturing the financial advantages.