The Book of Night Women

by Marlon James

  Two day later, right before dawn, three man on horseback ride wicked into Montpelier. A rap come from the door like somebody set to knock it down and Quinn jump, grabbing him musket under the bed. Lilith frighten but Quinn ask who is it and go to the door. Then he come back in and pull on him breeches, grab him boots and leave. Before sunrise Lilith dash out to the great house to hear Homer telling Pallas that Massa Humphrey ride gone with the mens too. Ride gone to Kingston. In the wee hours somebody set fire to Kingston Harbour. Half of the walk burn down and crash into the sea. No ship can dock or set out to sea from Kingston. They have reason to believe that it be the work of negroes. Homer hum a song. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t look sad neither.

  25

  EVERY NEGRO WALK IN A CIRCLE. TAKE THAT AND MAKE OF IT what you will. But sometime the circle not be the negro’s but the white man own, and white man circle full of hill and valley and things they say that mean something else. Black man wake up to find circle make for him, beginning with the shackle that lock round him neck. White man circle come by him own choosing. Plenty have choice to walk straight and away, yet plenty come back to where them start. Others never leave. And if you the negro get take up in the white man life, you travel that circle too.

  After the Kingston Harbour fire, word spread to the backra that he must be unceasing in him vigilance. Seventeen niggers get round up by the infantry. Most of them get whip, hammer, derby-dose, beat, bludgeon, burn, whip, gibbet or arse fuck with a red-hot poker. The rest get shot, so no slave alive to stand trial. That don’t stop Miss Isobel night riding. Lilith stop going outside to watch her, but Robert Quinn go outside and come back laughing so hard that he throw himself into a hiccup. He go to sleep for a little, but then wake up early to go back out to the cane field. Lilith didn’t sleep. In the evening Robert Quinn come home just in time because Lilith mind was haunting her again.

  —God feckin’ damn! he say and throw down two stalk of cane that he take to peeling and chewing.—God feckin’ damn! The man’s lost all claim to good sense. Kingston damn near burns down, something is afoot and all he thinks about is marrying the bitch!

  —Massa?

  —There’s no place for the militia to be dispatched, no place for merchant ships to dock and take his precious sugar, mind ye, and all he speaks of is finding a feckin’ ring!

  —Find ring for what, massa?

  —Lilith, do ye think there could ever come a day when ye call me Robert?

  —N-no, massa.

  Robert Quinn sigh.—This must be a warning, to myself, he say. I should guard my heart after all, he say.

  —Massa?

  —Huh? Oh, I was...

  —Who getting married, sah?

  —Yer master, that’s who to goddamn. She’s finally bewitched him. Deceived is more to the matter, totally and horribly deceived. I tell ye this, he cannot, simply cannot, marry that woman.

  —Why, m—

  —If ye call me by that word one more time.

  —Why, M . . . Ro . . . Lilith don’t know what to say.

  —Because . . . I regret, I cannot tell you this. Good lord, should I tell him? I haven’t really considered this.

  Robert Quinn sit down on the table and pull him legs up. He wrap him arms round him knees. He look at the ceiling, he look at him knees and he look at Lilith.

  —Goddamn, what do I do? I ask ye, what am I to do?

  Lilith shrug.

  —A devil of a thing, keeping a secret, isn’t it? Devil of a thing. ’Tis like God or some blimey bastard just picked ye to be the innkeeper of all this . . . this . . . truth, so that everybody else can go about lying. Devil of a thing, man. The very devil.

  —If you say so, massa.

  Robert Quinn sigh again.—I wager a negro, especially a house slave, would be bowed down by a life’s worth of secrets.

  —Me don’t have no secret, sah.

  —Of course, and me mum named me St. Patrick so that I’d marry Catholic.

  Lilith bow down her head.

  —Seems to be our lot in life, I fear, he say and smile half-like.

  Lilith stare at the ground for a long time. The she unbutton her dress and make it fall to the floor. She half smile but not for long. Robert Quinn look at her with him left eyebrow raise.

  —Not the intercourse I was hankering for, he say and get up and go to the bedroom and shut the door. Lilith still in the kitchen, feeling a nasty breeze on her back. She pull up her dress and go to Quinn room. He on the bed shucking off him boot. Lilith open her mouth to ask a question but don’t. He see her.

  —That question ye just thought better of asking, what was it?

  —Nothing, massa . . . Quinn.

  —Yawning you were, then, were ye?

  —Yes, m—

  —Come in, Lilith, and shut the door.

  Lilith close the door and watch him pulling off the right boot. She grab the left one. Him toes wriggle but him foot stinking something awful.

  —You foots need washing, massa.

  —Do you want to wash them, luv?

  —They need cleaning or they goin’ stink up the bed.

  —That’s not what I asked of ye.

  —Massa?

  —D’ye want to? Do you have any desire to lay yer hands on me stinky feet? Do you want to or are yer afraid of me and feel ye have to?

  —I . . .

  Quinn pull her down on the bed beside him. He looking straight at her.

  —Tell me the very thing you were about to say before you quit, he say.

  —Massa.

  —Lilith. I demand to know.

  Lilith quiet. She rubbing left hand with the right.

  —No, I do not. Lilith, I don’t demand it. If it’s yer wish to tell me, please do; if ye don’t, that’s fine as well. I would like to know, though, if ye please.

  —Massa. Massa . . . I . . . You, you have to . . . I don’t . . . When you . . . we can’t forget. We can’t forget.

  —Forget what?

  —Who be the massa and who be the nigger. Lilith wrap her arm around herself and bow her head. Quinn quiet for a while.

  —Aye. Aye. I ask ye, though, who sees us in this room, other than God?

  —Nobody, sah.

  —Nobody. That’s correct. That’s correct. I’ll strike a bargain with ye, an arrangement, if you will.

  —Massa?

  Quinn touch her knee.

  —This room, these walls, d’ye see ’em, luv?

  Lilith say yes.

  —Once we’re in this room, inside this room, what if you could say to me whatever comes to ye? Call me whatever you wish. Call me Robert and I’ll call you Lilith. Can you do that, Lilith?

  Outside the wind was threatening to answer.—No, massa, she say.

  —I’ll beg ye if I have to, he say.

  —Backra not supposed to beg nigger nothing, sah.

  —And yet here I am, watching you make a beggar out of me. All right. Since you must be this way, I order it, then.

  —You commanding slave to be free?

  —Yes, I command it. You must call me by the name me mother gave me when we’re in this room. I’m just a man and yer just a girl. And you must say anything you wish or nothing at all if you please. As long as we’re in this room and the door is closed. D’ye understand me, luv?

  —Yes, massa.

  —No ye don’t. Not at all. The door’s closed, Lilith. And I’m Robert. Robert, Robert, Robert.

  Lilith know she can hate a massa, a Massa Quinn or even a Massa Robert. But she can’t hate a Robert, or a Humphrey or a Isobel, for that matter. Him spinning her and she like and dislike what him do. Why a white man want to be nice to a nigger, only to be more wicked later? Why white man love give thing, only to take it back later? She get up quick to leave but he catch her hand and pull her back.

  —Look around you, luv. Nothing here but the walls and the dark.

  —And what outside?

  —I don’t give two shakes of a rat’s arse what’s outs
ide. I’m in here with you, luv, and yer not leaving until you call me Robert.

  —Robert.

  —Not like I’m yer horse, damn you.

  —With all the riding that go on—

  —That go . . . what? Dear heart, could ye just finish one goddamn sentence? D’ye think I’ll whip you if you speak yer mind? D’ye think I’m a liar, Lilith?

  —No, ma . . . No, Robert.

  —Good. That’s good to know, at the very least.

  —Robert.

  —That’s my name. Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Lilith.

  But she know. She know as soon as he start playing with her name, taking Lilith and Lovey and getting Lily and then going back to Lovey. From he start touching her face and lying down on him back in full clothes and pulling her on top of him. From he hold her and start laugh and never go to take off her clothes even though she feeling him grow. From he start talk like he just come back from wherever the Faerie Queene was hiding them long weeks. She know that her mouth could still say what her heart can’t swear. She know that the loose tongue, more enemy than friend, be all that save her. The same heart that should want to give all to Robert Quinn say no, or mayhaps it can never say yes. So she cry. She cry long and loud and Quinn weep too because mayhaps he think this be the bawling that woman do to cleanse themselves. The bawling that mean she free herself from whatever did bound her and just like a woman she need tears to wash it all away. But Lilith cry because her heart couldn’t cleanse, because she couldn’t wash away nothing and what he want she could never give him. She don’t know why. Mayhaps that be what Massa Humphrey teach her by making them mens nearly kill her. She wanted to give everything to him, she could say that to herself now. But she can’t do this again for he white and he be the overseer and he control the whip and he white and he Irish and he soon tired of her and he white and he be the overseer and some things don’t mean to be and he white. And a nigger girl must be sensible ’bout white man behaviour, for it set like the sun and sunset always different on any given day. She could give herself like she do before and this time never get herself back. No. No. No. She bawling and Quinn think it be tears of joy. And that is what they be, in they way. For a man can make a woman know her true self and what she be is nothing that belong to Quinn. She know that now. So she cry.

  The next morning, Lilith get summon to Miss Isobel room.

  —Oh, Lilith, if only all women could share in my joy! If only, she say. Then she pause herself for a minute and burst out a laugh that sound dirty like a whore.

  —Share indeed. Pox ’pon de stinking, backstabbing, petticoat-shedding lot.

  Miss Isobel drive the carriage to Kingston with Lilith beside her. Lilith so frighten that she can’t remember when last she so frighten. Massa Humphrey did say it not too safe for two womens to be riding all the way to Kingston with no man for protection, for that would be going all the way down to the harbour and all sort of drunkards and worse were down there—wicked men, licentious women, perverted sailors who have not seen a woman in months. Indeed, it was the most disgusting city in the empire. Miss Isobel say that she going to Kingston, not Port Royal, and have no fear, no pirates have been seen for ages. Miss Isobel insist, saying she can use a musket and a cutlass better than most man and to get her they would have to catch her first. Massa Humphrey look like he about to take a stand but Miss Isobel would have none of it. He look at Lilith like he sorry for what she about to get into. Robert Quinn tell Lilith to stay away from Greenwich on the harbour, since it be in ruins and populated by the most desperate sort, as if she be the one doing the riding. As she and Miss Isobel ride off, Lilith see Robert Quinn touch Massa Humphrey on the shoulder and whisper. Robert Quinn look at Lilith for a second but then he disappear. Miss Isobel swing the carriage round a corner and them gone.

  Kingston. Miss Isobel ride straight down to the harbour that Massa Humphrey warn her about. By Lilith reckoning, they ride for twenty or so miles and when they get to Kingston it be noon. Lilith never before see the place. Is the noise that lick her ears first, the noise of one thing mixing with another and fighting with something else. The noise of coloured and mulatto pickneys, wearing shirts or trousers but never both, and yelling and laughing and screaming as they dodge carriage and cart, and market women, some of them nigger, some mulatto or quadroon or mustee, all selling by the roadside with they basket full of orange, yam, cassava and banana. They turn down Orange Street that litter with even more people moving up and down like mad ants. Most be white mens, but a good few coloured, some wearing loose shirt, old breeches or pantaloons with dirty boots or shoes. Some dress up in fine coat with tails. Some carrying cane, others books, others paper or handkerchiefs, which they use cover they nose when they pass a stink place.

  Sometimes the people pack so thick that Miss Isobel halt her carriage and cuss. They turn left and go across two lane to King Street, then head down to the sea. Lilith can see two ships at the harbour. The buildings rise higher on King Street, some having three, four, even five floor. Some even more lavish than a great house, with window even in the roof and columns tall as a tower and wider than the carriage. The buildings colour like the sky or fruit or white woman skin, with French windows bigger than doors. But they stand tight together. Unlike Orange Street, womens be all over King Street, white womens especially. The womens all dress like Miss Isobel but in white clothes or yellow or blue or a plaid pattern. And some don’t have on petticoat so the dress fall flat. Some walk up and down the road, two by two and they stop and talk and whisper when they see one another. Lilith didn’t know that there be white woman who walk. Miss Isobel ride through a little ditch and almost splash a woman in red dots, who then cuss out like a nigger. Some of the womens in buggy and carriage like Miss Isobel. Some of the carriages draw by a niggerman or by a white woman with a negro housemaid in the back. They all hide they nose with a handkerchief when they pass a stink place.

  At the bottom of King Street, nearer to the harbour, be the shops. They smaller, and even tighter, most with two floors, the shop at the bottom and what look like living quarters at the top with curtains in the windows. From the shops and stores come all sort of pretty smell. Perfume and powder from England and France that Miss Isobel say we still at war with. They ride past a tall building with a Christmas orb for a roof that name Batty’s Emporium. Lilith almost say it ’loud but catch her tongue. Lilith wondering if it slip before to Miss Isobel that she can read. She could always say that is Robert Quinn teach her and that wouldn’t be no lie. Lilith keep her mouth shut for the rest of the ride. They pass two store and one more by the name Emporium. They pass a shop with a green and bone wall and a tobacco smell that jump out the door and greet the carriage. Some buildings have a balcony that hang over the street with white mens, some of them in red uniform, looking over like they standing guard. Lilith looking at the negro womens selling by the roadside, not far from the shit water, and wonder if they be slave or free for is not Sunday, when slave get leave to sell. Then they pass a building and Lilith read these words quiet-like:

  SLAVES, BOUGHT AND SOLD.

  She think that Miss Isobel see her this time, but Miss Isobel busy cussing people to get out of her goddamn way. The carriage can barely move now, sake of the crowd of people. Lilith didn’t notice when they start swimming in this sea. Mens, mens and more mens, some dress up in hat, coat and tails and shiny boot, some in blouson and pantaloon, some dirty like nigger even though most white. Most huddle in group of two or three and they talking, whispering, laughing, shouting, but mostly looking forward to the platform. Negroes.

  —A fine buck is what we ’ave ’ere, gentlemens, a fine buck! the auctioneer say and he open him tight collar to free him fat neck.

  A negro man and a negro woman on the platform. The two naked, save for chain round they neck and another binding they wrist. Both shiny from palm oil that carry scent right up the street. The auctioneer grab the woman little titty and squeeze. The woman yelp and try to run but the man grab her by
the hair. A white man whisper something to another white man and the woman beside them slap him, playful-like, on the cheek with her glove.

  —A ripe one, this lassie is, not yet fifteen, methinks. Aye, I’m sure of it. An exotic princess was she back in the dark continent, a boon to any household. And fine gentlemen such as you are surely you know a good value, so lets start at one hundred, do I hear one and twenty? the auctioneer say.

  One by one hands rise up and Lilith hear what negro woman go for. Montpelier be an estate for three or four generation now and there be so many slave that Lilith can’t remember the last time she see one that come straight from the Africa. Plenty on the estate, but they work the hardest part of the field so that they can get seasoned quick and none allowed to work in the house, sake of how they brutish and chat bad. She look at they body and forget palm oil and wonder if is so they come from the Africa, so shiny that they body glow. But then Lilith see something in the Africa man that she thought was only in the colony nigger. The hunch in the shoulders, the sinking neck. Just off the ship and the Africa man sinking into nigger pose already. He already buckling under backra weight. For all they funny talking and funny smell, Lilith did imagine the African back as always straight, the African leg powerful and the African eye big and wide. But there they was, a man and a woman, and already they body twist into question mark like what Massa Humphrey write.

  —One hundred ninety-five, sold! say the auctioneer.

  The auctioneer talking ’bout how hard the negroes goin’ work but he point to the negro woman breast and bottom and stuck him finger in her mouth to show her white teeth. He make the man spin round couple time and use him cattle prod to poke the man balls and lift up the man cocky so that it jiggle.