by Marlon James
A long time, she reckon. Long enough that what she know happen, what she think happen and what she feel goin’ happen bend and stretch and break and mix back into each other so that she could no longer tell for sure which was which. The shadow on the floor dark and sharp but it then start to creep across the wood like blood. Lilith pull up her feet and squeeze herself in tight. In the dark she smell him, the field stink of the Johnny-jumper, the frowsy arm and raw crotch that bring back sweat and wood and blood. She hear him scream. She hear him skin crack and pop and think she goin’ vomit until she realise that something was frying upstairs in the kitchen.
The door open wide again and a figure come down, that she know for sure. The figure walk down the steps careful-like but with her back straight and her head high. She carrying a tray that she set down on a barrel next to Lilith.
—Don’t waste me food, Homer say. She turn to go back upstairs.
—Me . . .
—Yes?
—Me . . . Lilith say.
—Bucket in the corner. Piss and shit in that if you have to, Homer say and leave her.
Homer leave the door open a little wider and from there Lilith hear the kitchen come to life. Man voice and woman voice talking and laughing and cussing. And pot frying and hot water hissing and things chopping, and one smell after another floating down in the cellar to keep her company. White people food. Lilith think she was goin’ glut on just the smell alone, so much was coming. Then she smell the tray next to her and grab a johnnycake. She don’t swallow the first before she stuff another in. Her mouth can barely handle it, to chew down something that don’t taste like potato. She put something in her mouth that feel like meat but Lilith eat meat only once, so she not sure. This meat full of salt and have plenty little sharp bones that she have to spit out. Lilith rub her fingers in the oil and lick the bowl clean. Then she hear more laughing and more cussing and silence when Homer talk. Something about going into Kingston to get some herring and other fish to settle the Massa Patrick head.
—Like he got no head to settle, a woman say and everybody laugh again. Lilith did think the massa was Jack Wilkins and can’t remember seeing this other massa.
—Gorgon say only last week he open war ’pon de rose bush, a woman say. More laughing.
—Shithouse. First Tantalus, then the massa, and even Massa Jack not too righted in him old days. Damn estate cursed.
—You hush you mouth before mad backra hush it for good, another woman say.
—Nothing wrong with Massa Jack head, ’cept that is whiskey own it, a man say.
—And even that don’t tame him breeches none, a woman say.
More laughing again. Laughing was a strange sound to Lilith. Something that strike her as a house nigger thing ’cause no laughter happen in Circe hut. Lilith listen for the day to change. The noise of the kitchen as they make breakfast. The quiet when they gone to the dining room to serve the massa and mistress. The noise when they come back and the smell of lunch cooking. The quiet when they gone to serve and the mumbling, laughing and quiet cussing that come with them eating they own lunch upstairs. A man belch loud and a woman say thank merciful Jesus that is not you other hole, to which he fart loud. More laughing. Maybe house-slave life was everything Lilith think.
By Lilith own reckoning two day pass. She have only the talking and joking upstairs, the smell of breakfast, different from lunch and supper and the blade of light from the door that go from bright to weak to gone, to tell her how time pass. Sometimes she wish she could hear all of what they say so that she could laugh too. Lilith sit in the dark and think about how a real laugh would sound. She chuckle under her breath and cover her lips as if somebody was watching. Even with the little light she could feel the dark moving in close. And the rats. Most time Homer bring the food. Other time is one of the two other womens who help get rid of the Johnny-jumper body. Neither woman talk to her much other than to remind her to not go upstairs. Sometimes she hear whispering and wonder if is about her.
A morning come as laughter rise and bounce and then vanish all of a sudden. She hear big boots step hard through the quiet. Somebody get throw against a door. Move out of the way, sodomite, a voice say. A loud man voice that have the sound of the field. Not one house nigger saying nothing.
—Wheh de fookin’ gal deh?
—Hello? Is which wicked nigger curse they chile with a name like Fookingal? Homer say.
—Don’t cross youself wid me, woman. Me’d beat the piss out o’ you.
—Nobody beating nobody in this kitchen. Say you piece, then get out.
Lilith hearing Homer.
—Paris. Where him be? Four day gone and nobody no see him.
—Anybody here look like Paris keeper?
—Don’t smart you mouth wid me, dry-up pussyhole.
—Then make me stupid up me mouth, then. Johnny-jumper gone missing four day and you come to the great house for him whereabouts? You reckon he tired of the Johnny-jumpering and turn chambermaid?
—You think you mouth pretty, bitch? Me didn’t come to the great house just so, me go to Circe hut first.
—Now that even curiouser. And why you go to Circe hut, if you please? Circe no too old for the boy?
—Is not Circe, is—you go on. Circe tell me plenty thing.
—What Circe say?
—She say ask that bitch Homer.
—Oh. Me still want to know why when your boy gone missing you think to go to Circe, of all people. What is the meaning of that affair?
—If only you did as pretty as you talk.
—And if only you was as smart as you big. No boy name Paris in here.
—You can’t keep her forever, cow. Just watch when we get her. First we goin’ beat her face off. Then we goin’ fuck out her cunt. Then we goin’ kill her. Then we goin’ fuck her again. Or we just goin’ deal wid her the way massa and Maroon did deal with you. Me papa tell me ’bout you.
Homer don’t say nothing for a while.
—Devil take to talking to him young’uns nowadays? For me certain you ain’t got no pappy. Now get out before me tell the massa how you dare come in this house with you stink self. Get out!
A door slam. Lilith jump.
—Food can’t cook itself, Homer say.
Lilith soon lose track of night and day. She hear shadow whispers in what seem like daylight, but shouting in what feel like night. Sometimes she hear a voice, a tongue that roll like a white woman. She don’t know what be what when she hear them sounds coming down from the kitchen. The door did ajar, but just a little bit. Lilith expecting Homer mouth, with all the creaking her footsteps make, but the woman didn’t say nothing. Lilith see her through the door crack and gasp so hard that she sure Homer hear. But Homer keep on washing. Her dress was pull down from her shoulder and rest low on her hip. She washing herself by the drum of water and looking out the window. Homer back look like a washboard with big thick scars running across, from her neck and shoulder right down to the middle of her arse. Lilith think she seeing an animal. Homer carry herself so tall and proud that one would think she be the only unblemished nigger in Montpelier. Lilith can’t think of what a woman of Homer cunning could have do to make somebody whip her so bad. Homer wiping her shoulder with a rag. She lift up her shoulder and grab some leaves from off the counter and rub in her armpit. Mayhaps that be the mint and lemongrass people always smell on her. Then she turn round.
Lilith nearly stagger back and lose her balance. She figure Homer must hear her now for sure. Lilith look again and as stunned as when she look first. The scars continue from her back to her front, so much that she don’t have titty no more, just two stump that mark off in scar marks. Her belly have marks too but they be smaller. Mayhaps she was pregnant when they whip her. Lilith be thinking that she don’t ever want to be like Homer. She think of Homer and her own back itch. She wondering what kind of wickedness or uppityness Homer could have do to make them beat her so. So bad that she be the most obedient nigger ever since. Homer whiter
than plenty white man, it seem. But nothing make a nigger more black than whip scars. Lilith don’t want none of it. She sad for Homer and she shame and she angry that this woman act like nothing above her. Lilith touch her breast and feel how they smooth. Homer washing. Then both woman hear another woman singing and the voice getting louder. Homer jump. She pull up her blouse but it stubborn. She pull and pull and cuss and look out and cuss again. Lilith think to help her but stay. The frock stubborn over her wet skin. The singing getting louder. Homer manage to pull up the frock halfway and Lilith see a look that she would never expect from Homer face. She wasn’t doing no hissing, she was sniffing and huffing like she frighten. She manage to slip in her sleeve and was pulling up the bosom when another woman, one of them who did help clean up the Johnny-jumper mess enter.
—Woman you too old to be playing with you titty.
—Older than even that, Pallas, older than even that, Homer say. —Tell that green-eyed gal to come upstairs.
Lilith step back. She try to step back quick but don’t want nobody to hear the step creak. But Pallas didn’t open the door, she only shout, Come upstairs, green-eyed gal.
—Lilith, this one name Pallas, Homer say when Lilith step into the kitchen. The other woman nod.
—What we goin’ do ’bout her? Pallas say. She tall as Homer but round, and not so far gone in age. Her hair plait in two at the side and run all they way past her breast. Her white apron hide her purple dress that look washed out.
—Devil if I know. Johnny-jumper out there and you know how them be. Them just starting they foolishness.
—Maybe we should turn her over and make God do the rest.
Lilith look up. Pallas’ eyes was waiting on her.
—No.
—What goin’ happen when Massa Jack hear?
—I don’t know.
—You supposed to know, Homer.
—I don’t know! Lilith, sit down and eat, Homer say.—She can work here.
—What you goin’ tell the others?
—Others? Since when me answer to no nigger round here? Me bring in new gal to do the work. That’s all any soul need to know.
—She not new. Everybody know you not sending down food to feed rat. Most reckon is she the jumper after. You goin’ have to tell him. He alone can sort this out. You have to tell him, Homer, Pallas say.
—He goin’ know soon enough, Homer say.
—But if he is the last to know, you goin’ be the one that feel it. Is not everybody ’fraid to touch you, Pallas say.
Lilith eating dasheen and pork. She look at the two womens talking and feel like is some other Lilith they speaking about. Neither talking to her. Circe used to do the same thing. Lilith wonder where the other slaves be. Mayhaps is Sunday, she think, and everybody gone to Sunday market.
—Anyway, things me have to say can wait till tonight, Pallas say and leave. Lilith and Homer in the kitchen, one eating and one drinking soup, neither saying nothing.
Most night as Lilith fall asleep, she fly up awake in fear that the Johnny-jumpers already in the cellar and ready to kill her. Is a week since and right in that instant between dreaming and waking she hear a whisper calling her the wickedest woman. A voice that trail off into the quiet. Paris didn’t beat her or try to kill her and he not even try to have him way with her, according to how the womens describe it. Maybe she could have run ’way. Maybe she be the one that evil. Something in the darkness smell new but known. Lilith looking for him in the dark, coming for her with no head on him shoulder. The door seem so far away at night. Lilith begin to wonder if field labour was so bad or if she did just make the Johnny-jumper do as he please then a new day would come after the old one and she would forget. Now she goin’ pay ’cause her life gone down a new trail and she can never get back to the old one. Lilith start to wonder if this new trail any worse than the old one. If a empty room better than a room with a woman who hate her, a man who mad.
The next afternoon, Homer give her a lamp and the task to swab the floor and sort out the shelves. They leave the door ajar and Lilith hear quick footsteps.
—Massa Jack coming! Massa Jack coming! The voice say. Lilith know the voice but couldn’t recollect the face.
—Gorgon, what you talking ’bout? Homer say.
—Me riding past de field and hear ’im shouting ’bout how two missin’.
—Damn. He did always have a sense ’bout them things. That backra could just look at a crowd of nigger and know one gone. Not even old age—
—Homer, he lef di field and go straight to Circe hut.
—Shithouse.
—Shit for true. Me no want dat man see me here, Gorgon say.
The first footstep didn’t stop the kitchen goings-on, but the second footstep stop everything cold. Lilith hear the footstep circle the kitchen one, two and three time.
—Homer, Homer, Homer, have you been losing step of late? Have you been slipping, you old cow?
—Me know me can still do a good day’s work, sah, Homer say.
—Bloody hell, ask Homer a question and God be damned, a Homer answer you shall receive. Are you getting forgetful in your old age, perhaps even a little mad, is what I ask.
—Not yet, sah, by the grace of God.
—Good for you. Because for some reason, unbeknownst to me, of course, everybody on this bloody estate seems to think I am.
—Oh no, massa—
—Oh, don’t oh-no-massa me. I knew you from when you still shat yourself. And so my newest Johnny-jumper and my newest field slave have both gone missing and yet not a soul has news on either. Uncanny, eh? Eloped, have they, Homer?
—No, sah. Me don’t know—
—Damn, Homer, don’t add tiresome to your list of flaws. Not now. You know of everything, I daresay even God gets his news from you. Are you saying you have no knowledge of their whereabouts?
—Me don’t have no knowledge of the boy, sir.
—And what of the girl? You know how I feel about being taken for a fool, Homer.
—She, she downstairs, sah.
Lilith jump. She hear strong footsteps stomp across the kitchen then stop. Then two hard slap and a yelp.
—Crossing me now, are you? Is that how you’ll have it? I give an order to send the girl to the field and you take it upon yourself to change it? Who for the sake of a fuck is the master here? Who?
—You, massa.
—Been far too long since you’ve met the cowskin, that’s what I think. Far too long.
—No, massa! Me never mean to cross you, massa!
Another slap.
—No, please, massa. Is the mistress! Is the mistress demand more things to be done and we did need another slave and me didn’t want to trouble you to go town to buy a new one so me just look at who be the newest and weakest, who if she leave won’t trouble the field much. That is all, massa, God truth. God truth.
—Really? And you know nothing of this Paris boy?
—No, please, massa.
—That’s not what I heard from Circe.
The room pause. Silent.
—Circe living with Tantalus a long time, massa, Homer say.
—Aye, indeed. Indeed. Maybe he did run away as the jumpers say. I shall send word to the constable today. Let him mount a search party and then we shall see what’s what. And to what use have you put the girl? I will see her now, Jack Wilkins say.
—Yes, Massa Jack.
The door swing open, wider than before and the whole cellar wash in dim daylight. Jack Wilkins march down the steps with Homer right behind him. Lilith think first to hide but then decide to stand still and take what coming to her.
—And what have you been doing here all in the dark?
—She make the place clean and pretty, massa. Clean and pretty can’t done. She—
—For fuck’s sake, Homer shut up. I’m sure God blessed her with a tongue.
Homer shut up and bow. Lilith don’t know who disturbing her more.
—Me working, massa, Lilith sa
y and bow.
—You working. Working on what?
—Whatever need working in the cellar, massa.
—Whatever need working. Doesn’t seem like you’re very busy down here, Lilith.
—Oh, she plenty busy, massa. Is like she have three hand and—
Right then Massa Jack swing round and strike Homer hard in the face. She stagger back and fall against the step.—That’s enough out of you, he say. He turn back to Lilith.
—And tell me, Lilith, by chance have you heard of a boy called Paris? Tall boy, thin, your height almost, maybe a smidgen taller. A new Johnny-jumper.
—Me mama tell me to stay away from boy, massa.
—Clever. Clever. I’m surrounded by clever niggers.
Lilith look at the man. Tall with a slight hunch. Hair near white but eye green and bright. Massa Jack shirt open right to the waist, as be him custom. But he thin and muscular, mayhaps even strong, from all those years acting as the headman of Montpelier. Lilith can’t believe that this same man was driven to distraction sometimes as Homer say. He regard Lilith so long that she start to fidget.
—Can’t have any nigger thinking they’re too special, you know. That’s why you were sent to the field. But this is as good a place as any, I wager. You find the cellar agreeable?
—Is hard work, massa.
—Well, niggers aren’t here to have things easy, are they, he say and laugh. He turn around and go back upstairs, leaving Homer to rub her face. Homer sit on the step while Lilith rub her fingers. Lilith don’t dare look at her. Not long after Pallas run down and stop on the step above Homer.
—He run away? Why the Johnny-jumpers saying Paris run away when they know what happen? Homer? Homer, this don’t seem mighty peculiar to you? Why the Johnny-jumpers didn’t just say she kill him? Why they lie when we and them is not friend?
—You ever see what happen when puss catch bird, Pallas?
—Yes, but...
—When puss catch bird. Think ’bout that for a while, Homer say and go upstairs.