The Color Purple - Alice Walker [3]
Pa rattle his newspaper. Move up, he won’t bite, he say.
I go closer to the steps, but not too close cause I’m a little scared of his horse.
Turn round, Pa say.
I turn round. One of my little brothers come up. I think it was Lucious. He fat and playful, all the time munching on something.
He say, What you doing that for?
Pa say, Your sister thinking bout marriage.
Didn’t mean nothing to him. He pull my dresstail and ast can he have some blackberry jam out the safe.
I say, Yeah.
She good with children, Pa say, rattling his paper open more. Never heard her say a hard word to nary one of them. Just give ’em everything they ast for, is the only problem.
Mr. _____ say, That cow still coming?
He say, Her cow.
DEAR GOD,
I spend my wedding day running from the oldest boy. He twelve. His mama died in his arms and he don’t want to hear nothing bout no new one. He pick up a rock and laid my head open. The blood run all down tween my breasts. His daddy say Don’t do that! But that’s all he say. He got four children, instead of three, two boys and two girls. The girls hair ain’t been comb since their mammy died. I tell him I’ll just have to shave it off. Start fresh. He say bad luck to cut a woman hair. So after I bandage my head best I can and cook dinner—they have a spring, not a well, and a wood stove look like a truck—I start trying to untangle hair. They only six and eight and they cry. They scream. They cuse me of murder. By ten o’clock I’m done. They cry theirselves to sleep. But I don’t cry. I lay there thinking bout Nettie while he on top of me, wonder if she safe. And then I think bout Shug Avery. I know what he doing to me he done to Shug Avery and maybe she like it. I put my arm around him.
DEAR GOD,
I was in town sitting on the wagon while Mr. _____ was in the dry good store. I seen my baby girl. I knowed it was her. She look just like me and my daddy. Like more us then us is ourself. She be tagging long hind a lady and they be dress just alike. They pass the wagon and I speak. The lady speak pleasant. My little girl she look up and sort of frown. She fretting over something. She got my eyes just like they is today. Like everything I seen, she seen, and she pondering it.
I think she mine. My heart say she mine. But I don’t know she mine. If she mine, her name Olivia. I embroder Olivia in the seat of all her daidies. I embrody lot of little stars and flowers too. He took the daidies when he took her. She was bout two month old. Now she bout six.
I clam down from the wagon and I follow Olivia and her new mammy into a store. I watch her run her hand long side the counter, like she ain’t interested in nothing. Her ma is buying cloth. She say Don’t touch nothing. Olivia yawn.
That real pretty, I say, and help her mama drape a piece of cloth close to her face.
She smile. Gonna make me an my girl some new dresses, she say. Her daddy be so proud.
Who her daddy, I blurt out. It like at last somebody know.
She say Mr. _____. But that ain’t my daddy name.
Mr. _____? I say. Who he?
She look like I ast something none of my bidniss.
The Reverend Mr. _____, she say, then turn her face to the clerk. He say, Girl you want that cloth or not? We got other customers sides you.
She say, Yes sir. I want five yards, please sir.
He snatch the cloth and thump down the bolt. He don’t measure. When he think he got five yard he tare it off. That be a dollar and thirty cent, he say. You need thread?
She say, Naw suh.
He say, You can’t sew thout thread. He pick up a spool and hold it gainst the cloth. That look like it bout the right color. Don’t you think.
She say, Yessuh.
He start to whistle. Take two dollars. Give her a quarter back. He look at me. You want something gal? I say, Naw Suh.
I trail long behind them on the street.
I don’t have nothing to offer and I feels poor.
She look up and down the street. He ain’t here. He ain’t here. She say like she gon cry.
Who ain’t? I ast.
The Reverend Mr. ___, she say. He took the wagon.
My husband