The Book of Night Women

by Marlon James

  —Me don’t take orders from you, Callisto say. Gorgon bark like dog but leave the biting to Callisto. Lilith thinking this make sense. If there was somebody to be killed, then Callisto would do the killing. She look at the one-eye woman in the dimness and wonder if Callisto is the one she is most of a sister to. Lilith remember the fear she feel when she kill Massa Roget. And something else. Something that higher than when Robert Quinn love her. Something higher than the breeze that rush across the back of her neck when she think of the Ogun that she not to say. Something higher than feeling white. Something that she can’t name or call.

  Homer still not saying nothing.

  —You think anybody waitin’ on word from you? Niggers on five estate know you mind dead. And you don’t have no use. Better for we if you go live with you dead pickney now. Cho! If people didn’t still ’fraid o’ you me’d arrange that meself. Come, Gorgon.

  Callisto and Gorgon grab Iphigenia, Callisto the foots and Gorgon the hands. They drag the body down the passage Homer point to.

  —Make sure, Homer say weakly.—Make sure you put rock in her dress so that... six tell six tell six...

  Homer words get cut short by a splash. Hippolyta hiss and run. She hold her head down and look at her hands. Lilith still by the wall and still holding her knife. Lilith don’t know if Homer whispering, whimpering or counting. She just then seeing that Pallas crying. Pallas get up and leave, walking first, then running away. Lilith and Homer alone in the cave with the candlelight and shadow dancing round them.

  —Me son never lie to me once, Homer say.

  Gehenna

  29

  ROBERT QUINN JUMP FIRST. HIM RISE FAST AND STARTLE Lilith. As soon as she hear footsteps in the kitchen, Quinn already grab the musket. The footsteps march to the bedroom door and not trying to be quiet.

  —Robert.

  —Shhh, luv, he say.

  The footsteps sound like heavy boots.—Quinn, the man say.

  —Quinn.

  The man push the door open as Quinn cock him musket and aim.

  —Good heavens, man, I could have killed ye! Quinn say. Massa Humphrey in breeches and boots but still wearing him nightshirt, which tuck in halfway.

  —Quinn, come with me. Now, he say.

  —Well, I can hardly come naked, can I? Quinn smile but Massa Humphrey dead serious.

  —Join us outside. We have no time to lose, Quinn, Massa Humphrey say, but he look at Lilith. Lilith jump out of the bed and fetch him new breeches and a white blouson. Quinn boots was in the kitchen. He pull them on and go outside. Massa Humphrey didn’t wait. As soon as he see Quinn he ride off, followed by a slave-driver. They leave a horse for Quinn. Lilith watch him mount the horse and ride off, shouting to Massa Humphrey, Have some patience, will ye. Lilith run to the great house.

  Homer at the kitchen window watching the sun rise over the Blue Mountain. She alone. Lilith out of breath and think her loud panting would draw Homer attention but Homer still at the window and the kitchen quiet.

  —Mass—Massa Humphrey. He just come for Robert, he just knock down the door and come for him and they ride off.

  —Don’t call any white man by they Christian name round me, Homer say.

  —Where they ride off to?

  —God he knows.

  —Something happen for sure. Massa Humphrey did serious, serious, serious.

  —You know, white man God is stupid thing, but he have—

  —Homer, you listening to what me say?

  —But he have one thing that me like. One thing. You know what that be?

  —How me to know that?

  Homer touch the window, moving closer like she see something that Lilith don’t.

  —The one thing me love ’bout white man God is that with him, things that happen, thing that goin’ on now and things that don’t yet come to pass be one and the same thing. He no got no yesterday or no tomorrow. Everything is now. Me don’t expect ordinary nigger to understand—

  —Me understand plenty, Homer.

  —Me was just thinking that if me could ever be like God, then past and present and what to come don’t mean nothing. That even though me pickneys dead, me still holding him and holding she and me still watching they grow. Me can touch they chest and feel it rise and f—

  Homer step away from the window and wipe her eyes.

  —What a terrible thing ’pon this world the white man must be. What a wicked, terrible, brutal creature, nothing no wicked like he so. That is the only thing they can teach we. Watch today when they see how much we learn.

  —But they ride out for some reason, Homer. I don’t like it.

  —You don’t care for nothing that have to do with you own people free.

  —You don’t care neither. Me know what moving you and you not out to build nothing.

  —They kill the motherness out of me.

  —They kill more than that.

  —Me ever tell you ’bout you mother?

  —No, no, no, no. Don’t bother try me this morning, woman. Nothing you can—

  —Thirteen year old when Massa Jack fuck her out o’ spite, sake of her brother Bacchus. Rape her, really. Pretty girl, that one. Pretty, pretty girl. You know what she name?

  —Me goin’ back to me kitchen.

  —Demeter. Demeter she name. Most beautifullest thing ever live on this estate, backra or nigger.

  —Me know what you trying to do, you bitch. Me know what you trying to do.

  —After Jack Wilkins kill Bacchus, the first thing he do is make sure Demeter pretty face no pretty no more. That was a spirited chile, spirited, spirited. Just like you, but not even she deserve that. You know how bad Jack Wilkins do her? So bad that even he feel pity afterwards.

  —Stop it, Homer.

  —You don’t want to know ’bout you mother?

  —Me no got no mother.

  Homer quiet. She go back to the window again.—And me ain’t got no pickney. When we nigger goin’ get something, eh?

  Lilith think to leave but then Pallas run inside.—They have gun today! They all have gun, the slave-drivers, she say.

  —What?

  —You hear me, Homer. They have gun. Somebody must did tell them something. Somebody do something. Me no know. The massa upstairs?

  —No. A driver wake him up and he and Robert Quinn ride out from early morning.

  —Goddamn. Goddamn, Homer. What they up to?

  —Me look like Humphrey Wilson keeper? How me to know?

  —But . . .

  Pallas make the sentence die. She look at Lilith, but no answer come from Lilith either.

  —They coming, Homer say.

  The three men galloping hard. The driver first, then Massa Humphrey, then Robert Quinn. When they reach the great house Massa Humphrey tell the two groundsmens to tie off the horses to a tree and don’t take them back to the stable. Lilith can’t read nothing on nobody face. Lilith, Homer and Pallas go outside as if they get summon, running down to the last step. Lilith cover her eyes from the sun as the mens come towards them. Robert Quinn not looking at her. Massa Humphrey step past them, him nightshirt still hanging out of him breeches.

  —Have that girl fix us some tea, Homer, considering these days Lilith’s tea-making skills are reserved for Mr. Quinn only. The slave Miss Isobel is particularly fond of. Athena? Atalanta, Minerva, whatever Jack Wilkins named the wench.

  —Athena? Athena sickly, sir, with the flux.

  —Good lord, the flux? The flux, did you say?

  —Yes, massa, me don’t know what them nasty girls doing so. Me have her lock ’way in the quarters, sir. She not no use to nobody the way she smelling.

  Massa Humphrey nod.

  —The flux, you say?

  —Yes, massa.

  —Has anybody else come down with this malady?

  —Not yet, sah.

  —Nevertheless, I’ll have her moved today.

  —Massa?

  —Today, Homer. I will not have her infect another soul on this estat
e.

  —She not goin’ infect nobody, sir, me check on her already and she keeping to her own.

  —Really? Homer, you really are a remarkable creature, aren’t you? Truly remarkable. But tell me, how could you have managed to look in on the girl—just now, I take it—when she lies dead at the foot of a cliff not too far from where we stand?

  Homer step back and gasp. Pallas step away from her. Lilith can’t move. All of a sudden, Massa Humphrey pounce ’pon Homer and Robert Quinn not stopping him.

  —A murderess in our midst, is it? A murderess? Massa Humphrey say and push her. Homer yelp. She raise her hand to protect her face but too late and Massa Humphrey punch her straight on the nose. Homer stagger back but Massa Humphrey grab her dress by the bosom and slap her across her left check, then her right, then her left again. Pallas jerk toward her, but both Quinn and the driver raise their rifle. Massa Humphrey grab Homer by the throat. Her eye open wide and blood running from the corner of her lip.

  —I would never have thought this of you, Homer. Never in an age or more. Would you mind terribly telling me what a slave of mine is doing dead and broken at the foot of a cliff? And why would you be here lying about it? A girl that Richardson said was Athena. And I thought to myself, that’s the girl that Homer said had the flux. The very same. Only four days ago you told Miss Isobel that she was very ill, do you deny it?

  Homer don’t say nothing.

  —Do you deny it?

  —Mass . . . Mass . . .

  —Oh, get her out of my sight! Massa Humphrey say and push her to the ground. Massa Humphrey walk to the doorway, then stop.

  —Richardson, I will have an answer from her. Today. Do whatever it takes. And Richardson, find whose name matches the number on that shirt and hang him.

  Richardson is a big man. So big, is a wonder that even a horse can support him. With him bulky leg and large swell calf, broad shoulder and thick neck and bald head and red eye and missing teeth, he be perhaps the only white man that scare nigger on appearance alone. He scratch the three-day growth ’pon him face and smile. Word was that whenever a slave gal try to fight him off, he would grab her neck and let her know that he got no problem with fucking a dead nigger. Richardson step over to Homer, grab him rifle and butt her in the face. Homer out. Richardson grab her left foot and drag her down the steps. Pallas and Lilith watch as Homer head bang one, two, three, four down the steps, her left ankle in him hand, and her dress lifting up and exposing her. Quinn grab Lilith by the hand and drag her away. Pallas crying.

  The cliff was actually a bend in the road that take one to Kingston. A small trail wrap round a hill with nothing below but rock and sea. Somebody must did try to kill Athena at night. She fight him back and grab and tear off him shirt. A bloody rock at the side of the road speak to what kill her. She dead before he throw her over, for there was a trail of her blood from the middle of the road straight to the cliff and the print of a big man foot stepping back into the same blood as he run away.

  All this Robert Quinn say to Lilith back in him quarters but he don’t look at her.

  —Me can’t believe it to be true, massa.

  —Nor I. Certainly not Homer, but who can ye trust these days. Who can ye . . .

  —Massa . . .

  Lilith feel the silence on her back. Before she even turn, Robert Quinn grab her arm and twist it behind her back. Lilith bawl.

  —Yer in her company all the time! All the time! Are ye in league with her? Are you in league with her, damn you?

  —No, massa! Me not in league with nobody. Me . . .

  Lilith bawling as he twist her hand harder. She buckle and fall hard on her knee.

  —I don’t think I believe ye. You two were especially close. Are ye planning something, the two of ye? So help me, I’ll break this hand off!

  —Lawd God, Massa Robert! Lawd! Lilith bawling getting louder.—Me don’t know—Me don’t know nothing ’bout Homer, swear to God-Jesus!

  —Me memory’s not as bad as ye wish it, Lilith. I recall several times you going to meet the woman. At night too. Late night. I swear, you niggers are planning something, after all the kindness I’ve shown you.

  He twist harder. Lilith bawling loud now.

  —Nobody not close to me, sah!

  —Ye expect me to believe that these niggers and ye don’t have each in the other’s confidence? Ye expect me to believe that Homer and at least one more is involved in a murder plot, and ye have no knowledge of it? None at all?

  —Me never know, sah! Oh, lawd!

  —How could you not know?

  —Nobody talk to me, sah! Nobody talk to me!

  —Since when! Since fecking when? Don’t make me any more cross with ye, Lilith. Don’t fecki—

  —Since me start share bed with white man, massa! Since me sleeping with you.

  He stop and let go of her. He pace for a while, then stop and look at her.

  —What am I, a fecking plague? Am I some sort of leper? he say, but Lilith don’t answer. She clutch her hand, still crying.

  —Nobody have nothing to do with me. Not since me come back from Coulibre, not since me living here with you, she say.

  Quinn go over to the table and sit down in a chair. He sigh loud and scratch him head.

  —Goddamn. Were ye lying I’d feel bad, but yer probably telling the truth and that makes me feel a lot, lot worse.

  Hundred sixty-four was the number on the shirt. The piece of shirt that Athena tear off when she was fighting the murdering nigger for her life. Who know where her spirit be now, but she do one last thing to make sure her death get avenge. Hundred sixty-four. Robert Quinn bring numbers to the estate to make things simpler. So number hundred sixty-four slave have number hundred sixty-four shirt and number hundred sixty-four pantaloons. Hundred sixty-four mark when he get feed two times a day, hundred sixty-four mark when he spend the allotted hours in the field working. Hundred sixty-four belong to Atlas.

  Richardson go in the field after Atlas. Atlas see him and McClusky coming and run. Atlas run clear down a trail in the cane piece when another driver chase him down on horseback and strike him with a club. Richardson ask who him in league with and why he kill Athena. Or if he tickled pink by killing young women. Atlas say he no know what dem a-talk ’bout and Richardson shoot off two of him left toe. Atlas scream clear across the field. Every driver lift up the rifle and aim, shouting to the slaves to go back to work, and the Johnny-jumpers strike who they please. Atlas bawl again that he no know and he didn’t have nothing to do with no poor murdered girl and he love all girl and would never kill such a pretty girl like Athena, who never would hurt even flea. Richardson have two driver hold him down. He step on Atlas wrist with him boot and shoot off a thumb. Atlas scream and holler and bawl and yell and whimper. He still saying that he no know nothing ’bout no young girl. Richardson say he was the one who find the body himself coming back from Red Horse Tavern in Kingston. Blood smear the road leading straight over the cliff. He climb all the way down himself and find Athena stinking up the rocks, half her body almost gone in the sea. Athena still have most of him shirt in her hand. Richardson ask Atlas what anybody could have over him that he gone lose a thumb and two toe already. Atlas bawling. Richardson tell the drivers to turn him over. A driver further off fire in the air and say, Git back to work, the lot o’ ye! And the niggers watching go back to work. Atlas still screaming and bawling when Richardson rip down him pantaloons and shove the rifle hard and rough until it gone full up Atlas arse.—I’ll send your shit all the way up to yer eyeballs, Atlas, so help me God I will, he say and Atlas finally scream out, She does bewitch me! She does work Obeah on me! She Obeah me, lord massa! She make me do it!

  —Who? Richardson say.

  —Homer. Homer! Atlas say.

  Callisto tell all this to Pallas. By the noon hour, everybody ordered to the cotton tree. Lilith remember that tree well. She walk three pace behind Robert Quinn and they don’t say nothing from the morning. Noon gone white. Most of the nigger
s assemble round the tree with the slave-drivers at the back, all with rifle cock and loaded and extra musket on they shoulder. Massa Humphrey watching from the terrace. Lilith look around and see Callisto in front but across from her, and Hippolyta in the back, tiptoeing to get a better look. She don’t see Gorgon.

  They string up Atlas first. Him screaming into a gag. They put the nigger to stand on a small barrel with him hand tie behind him back. The noose already round him neck. A driver shouting to the niggers ’bout the perverted Atlas and Homer who killing little girls for their amusement. Atlas murder the girl and Homer hide the dastard deed. —May God have mercy on you and let you out of hell one day, the driver say and kick away the barrel. The noose grip round the nigger neck. He swing and kick and spin but that only make the noose squeeze tighter. Is years since anybody get hang at Montpelier. The body jerk and sway and piss burst from him cocky and wet the dirt.

  Then they bring out Homer. Richardson push her and she stumble. Homer naked, with her skin stretch over bone and her hips sticking out and her ribs poking through her side. Few on the estate would know what Homer body look like, so plenty gasp and few look away when they see how she look like animal. Her back, arse and thigh cover in scar big like animal stripe, her titties chop up and scar up so that is only nipple left to tell you that she born to suckle. But all over her from arm to leg to foot tight with muscle. Homer try to walk straight but Richardson butt her with the rifle for showing uppityness. They tie her wrists and pull her up till she on level with dead Atlas. Homer gasp and wince but say nothing. Her head drop down like she falling asleep. Homer pussy hair white like her head. The driver talking ’bout how she of all people, the one nigger who was expected to be an example for all other nigger to follow, turn out to be such a decadent pervert and murderess. How a slave under her supervision came to such an untimely death and neither she nor Atlas will tell why. How there is no way to comprehend such evil, one can only drive it out with the smart of a good, severe whipping. Homer head nodding and rolling up and down like she agree.