"they open to the sun, but not the birds, 'cause snakes down in there and the birds know it, so theyjust grow — fat and sweet — with nobody to bother em 'cept me because don't nobody go in thatpiece of water but me and ain't too many legs willing to glide down that bank to get them. meneither. but i was willing that day. somehow or 'nother i was willing. and they whipped me, i'mtelling you. tore me up. but i filled two buckets anyhow. and took em over to baby suggs' house.
it was on from then on. such a cooking you never see no more. we baked, fried and stewedeverything god put down here. everybody came. everybody stuffed. cooked so much there wasn'ta stick of kirdlin left for the next day. i volunteered to do it. and next morning i come over, like ipromised, to do it." "but this ain't her mouth," paul d said. "this ain't it at all." stamp paid lookedat him. he was going to tell him about how restless baby suggs was that morning, how she had alistening way about her; how she kept looking down past the corn to the stream so much he lookedtoo. in between ax swings, he watched where baby was watching. which is why they both missedit: they were looking the wrong way — toward water — and all the while it was coming down theroad. four. riding close together, bunched-up like, and righteous. he was going to tell him that,because he thought it was important: why he and baby suggs both missed it. and about the partytoo, because that explained why nobody ran on ahead; why nobody sent a fleet-footed son to cut'cross a field soon as they saw the four horses in town hitched for watering while the riders asked questions. not ella, not john, not anybody ran down or to bluestone road, to say some newwhitefolks with the look just rode in. the righteous look every negro learned to recognize alongwith his ma'am's tit. like a flag hoisted, this righteousness telegraphed and announced the faggot,the whip, the fist, the lie, long before it went public. nobody warned them, and he'd alwaysbelieved it wasn't the exhaustion from a long day's gorging that dulled them, but some other thing— like, well, like meanness — that let them stand aside, or not pay attention, or tell themselvessomebody else was probably bearing the news already to the house on bluestone road where apretty woman had been living for almost a month. young and deft with four children one of whichshe delivered herself the day before she got there and who now had the full benefit of baby suggs'
bounty and her big old heart. maybe they just wanted to know if baby really was special, blessedin some way they were not. he was going to tell him that, but paul d was laughing, saying, "uhuh. no way. a little semblance round the forehead maybe, but this ain't her mouth." so stamp paiddid not tell him how she flew, snatching up her children like a hawk on the wing; how her facebeaked, how her hands worked like claws, how she collected them every which way: one on hershoulder, one under her arm, one by the hand, the other shouted forward into the woodshed filledwith just sunlight and shavings now because there wasn't any wood. the party had used it all,which is why he was chopping some. nothing was in that shed, he knew, having been there earlythat morning. nothing but sunlight. sunlight, shavings, a shovel. the ax he himself took out.
nothing else was in there except the shovel — and of course the saw. "you forgetting i knew herbefore," paul d was saying. "back in kentucky. when she was a girl. i didn't just make heracquaintance a few months ago. i been knowing her a long time. and i can tell you for sure: thisain't her mouth. may look like it, but it ain't." so stamp paid didn't say it all. instead he took abreath and leaned toward the mouth that was not hers and slowly read out the words paul dcouldn't. and when he finished, paul d said with a vigor fresher than the first time, "i'm sorry,stamp. it's a mistake somewhere 'cause that ain't her mouth."stamp looked into paul d's eyes and the sweet conviction in them almost made him wonder if ithad happened at all, eighteen years ago, that while he and baby suggs were looking the wrongway, a pretty little slavegirl had recognized a hat, and split to the woodshed to kill her children.
"she was crawling already when i got here. one week, less, and the baby who was sitting upand turning over when i put her on the wagon was crawling already. devil of a time keeping heroff the stairs. nowadays babies get up and walk soon's you drop em, but twenty years ago when iwas a girl, babies stayed babies longer. howard didn't pick up his own head till he was ninemonths. baby suggs said it was the food, you know. if you ain't got nothing but milk to give em,well they don't do things so quick. milk was all i ever had. i thought teeth meant they was ready tochew. wasn't nobody to ask. mrs. garner never had no children and we was the only womenthere."she was spinning. round and round the room. past the jelly cupboard, past the window, past thefront door, another window, the sideboard, the keeping-room door, the dry sink, the stove — backto the jelly cupboard. paul d sat at the table watching her drift into view then disappear behind hisback, turning like a slow but steady wheel. sometimes she crossed her hands behind her back.
other times she held her ears, covered her mouth or folded her arms across her breasts. once in a while she rubbed her hips as she turned, but the wheel never stopped.
"remember aunt phyllis? from out by minnoveville? mr. garner sent one a you all to get her foreach and every one of my babies. that'd be the only time i saw her. many's the time i wanted toget over to where she was. just to talk. my plan was to ask mrs. garner to let me off atminnowville whilst she went to meeting. pick me up on her way back. i believe she would a donethat if i was to ask her. i never did, 'cause that's the only day halle and me had with sunlight in itfor the both of us to see each other by. so there wasn't nobody. to talk to, i mean, who'd knowwhen it was time to chew up a little something and give it to em. is that what make the teeth comeon out, or should you wait till the teeth came and then solid food? well, i know now, becausebaby suggs fed her right, and a week later, when i got here she was crawling already. no stoppingher either. she loved those steps so much we painted them so she could see her way to the top."sethe smiled then, at the memory of it. the smile broke in two and became a sudden suck of air,but she did not shudder or close her eyes. she wheeled.
"i wish i'd a known more, but, like i say, there wasn't nobody to talk to. woman, i mean. so i triedto recollect what i'd seen back where i was before sweet home. how the women did there. ohthey knew all about it. how to make that thing you use to hang the babies in the trees — so youcould see them out of harm's way while you worked the fields. was a leaf thing too they gave emto chew on. mint, i believe, or sassafras. comfrey, maybe. i still don't know how they constructedthat basket thing, but i didn't need it anyway, because all my work was in the barn and the house,but i forgot what the leaf was. i could have used that. i tied buglar when we had all that pork tosmoke. fire everywhere and he was getting into everything. i liked to lost him so many times.
once he got up on the well, right on it. i flew. snatched him just in time. so when i knew we'd berendering and smoking and i couldn't see after him, well, i got a rope and tied it round his ankle.
just long enough to play round a little, but not long enough to reach the well or the fire. i didn'tlike the look of it, but i didn't know what else to do. it's hard, you know what i mean? by yourselfand no woman to help you get through. halle was good, but he was debt-working all over theplace. and when he did get down to a little sleep, i didn't want to be bothering him with all that.
sixo was the biggest help. i don't 'spect you rememory this, but howard got in the milk parlor andred cora i believe it was mashed his hand. turned his thumb backwards. when i got to him, shewas getting ready to bite it. i don't know to this day how i got him out. sixo heard him screamingand come running. know what he did? turned the thumb right back and tied it cross his palm tohis little finger. see, i never would have thought of that. never. taught me a lot, sixo."it made him dizzy. at first he thought it was her spinning. circling him the way she was circlingthe subject. round and round, never changing direction, which might have helped his head. thenhe thought, no, it's the sound of her voice; it's too near. each turn she made was at least threeyards from where he sat, but listening to her was like having a child whisper into your ear so closeyou could feel its lips form the words you couldn't make out because they were too close. hecaught only pieces of what she said — which was fine, because she hadn't gotten to the main part— the answer to the question he had not asked outright, but which lay in the clipping he showedher. and lay in the smile as well. because he smiled too, when he showed it to her, so when she burst out laughing at the joke — the mix-up of her face put where some other coloredwoman'sought to be — well, he'd be ready to laugh right along with her. "can you beat it?" he would ask.
and "stamp done lost his mind," she would giggle.
"plumb lost it."but his smile never got a chance to grow. it hung there, small and alone, while she examined theclipping and then handed it back.
perhaps it was the smile, or maybe the ever-ready love she saw in his eyes — easy and upfront, theway colts, evangelists and children look at you: with love you don't have to deserve — that madeher go ahead and tell him what she had not told baby suggs, the only person she felt obliged toexplain anything to. otherwise she would have said what the newspaper said she said and no more.
sethe could recognize only seventy-five printed words (half of which appeared in the newspaperclipping), but she knew that the words she did not understand hadn't any more power than she hadto explain. it was the smile and the upfront love that made her try.
"i don't have to tell you about sweet home — what it was — but maybe you don't know what itwas like for me to get away from there."covering the lower half of her face with her palms, she paused to consider again the size of themiracle; its flavor.
"i did it. i got us all out. without halle too. up till then it was the only thing i ever did on my own.
decided. and it came off right, like it was supposed to. we was here. each and every one of mybabies and me too. i birthed them and i got em out and it wasn't no accident. i did that. i had help,of course, lots of that, but still it was me doing it; me saying, go on, and now. me having to lookout. me using my own head. but it was more than that. it was a kind of selfishness i never knewnothing about before. it felt good. good and right. i was big, paul d, and deep and wide and wheni stretched out my arms all my children could get in between. i was that wide. look like i lovedem more after i got here. or maybe i couldn't love em proper in kentucky because they wasn'tmine to love. but when i got here, when i jumped down off that wagon — there wasn't nobody inthe world i couldn't love if i wanted to. you know what i mean?" paul d did not answer becauseshe didn't expect or want him to, but he did know what she meant. listening to the doves in alfred,georgia, and having neither the right nor the permission to enjoy it because in that place mist,doves, sunlight, copper dirt, moon — -every thing belonged to the men who had the guns. littlemen, some of them, big men too, each one of whom he could snap like a twig if he wanted to. menwho knew their manhood lay in their guns and were not even embarrassed by the knowledge thatwithout gunshot fox would laugh at them. and these "men" who made even vixen laugh could, ifyou let them, stop you from hearing doves or loving moonlight. so you protected yourself andloved small. picked the tiniest stars out of the sky to own; lay down with head twisted in order tosee the loved one over the rim of the trench before you slept. stole shy glances at her between thetrees at chain-up. grass blades, salamanders, spiders, woodpeckers, beetles, a kingdom of ants.
anything bigger wouldn't do. a woman, a child, a brother — a big love like that would split you wide open in alfred, georgia. he knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you couldlove anything you chose — not to need permission for desire — well now, that was freedom.
circling, circling, now she was gnawing something else instead of getting to the point.
“它们生长的地方朝阳，可是鸟又吃不着，因为鸟知道底下有蛇，所以它们只管长———又肥又甜———除了我没人去打扰它们，因为除了我谁也不下那滩水，再说也没有什么人愿意滑下悬崖去摘它们。我也不愿意。可是那天我愿意。不知怎么回事，就是愿意。它们可把我抽了一顿，我跟你说。把我划了个稀巴烂。可是我还是装了满满两桶，把它们带到贝比·萨格斯家。就是从那会儿开始的。你再也见不到那种场面了。我们把上帝赐给这地方的所有东西都又烤又炸又炖。大伙儿全来了。每个人都撑着了。那顿饭做得太多了，没给第二天剩下一根劈柴。是我自告奋勇去劈劈柴的。第二天早晨我就过来了，我答应过的，来干活儿。
”
“可这不是她的嘴，”保罗·d说，“这根本不是。
”
斯坦普·沛德看着他。他要告诉他那天早晨贝比·萨格斯是怎样地坐立不安，她是怎样地侧耳倾听；她是怎样地透过玉米凝望小溪，搞得他也忍不住去看。每抡一下斧子，他就望一眼贝比·萨格斯望的地方。所以他们俩都错过了它———他们看错了方向———向着溪水———而同时它却从大路上赶来。四个。并排骑着马，像是一伙的，而且铁面无私。他要告诉保罗·d那件事，因为他认为它很重要：为什么他和贝比·萨格斯都错过了它。还要谈谈那次宴会，因为宴会能够解释，为什么没有人提前跑来；为什么看见城里来的四匹马饮着水、骑马的问着问题时，就没有一个人派个飞毛腿儿子穿过田野来报信。艾拉没有，约翰没有，谁都没有沿着或者朝着蓝石路跑来，来跟他们说有几个陌生的带“相”的白人刚刚骑马进来。每个黑人一降生就跟妈妈的奶头一起认得的那种铁面无私“相”。早在公开发作之前，这种铁面无私就像一面高举的旗帜，流露和显示出荆条、鞭子、拳头、谎言的迹象。没有人来警告他们，他也根本不相信是一整天累死人的胡吃海塞让他们变得迟钝了，而是别的什么———比如，唉，比如卑鄙———使得他们袖手旁观，或者置若罔闻，或者对他们自己说，别人可能已经把消息传到了蓝石路上一个漂亮女人住了将近一个月的那所房子里。她年轻、能干，有四个孩子，其中一个是她到那儿的前一天自己分娩的；她现在正享受着贝比·萨格斯的慷慨和她那颗伟大苍老的心灵的恩泽。也许他们只是想知道贝比是否真的与众不同，比他们多点什么福气。他想对他讲这一切，可是保罗·d大笑着说：
“啊不。不可能。没准脑门周围有点相像，可这不是她的嘴。
”
所以斯坦普·沛德没有告诉他她怎样飞起来，像翱翔的老鹰一样掠走她自己的孩子们；她的脸上怎样长出了喙，她的手怎样像爪子一样动作，她怎样将他们一个个抓牢：一个扛在肩上，一个夹在腋下，一个用手拎着，另一个则被她一路吼着，进了满是阳光、由于没有木头而只剩下木屑的木棚屋。木头都被宴会用光了，所以那时他才在劈劈柴。棚屋里什么也没有，他知道，那天一早他去过了。只有阳光。阳光，木屑，一把铁锹。斧子是他自己带来的。那里除了铁锹什么也没有———当然，有锯子。
“你忘了我从前就认识她，”保罗·d说道，“在肯塔基那会儿。她还是个小姑娘哪。我可不是几个月前才认识她的。我认识她好久了。我敢向你保证：这不是她的嘴。可能看着像，可这不是。”
所以斯坦普·沛德没有全说出来。他就吸了一口气，凑近那张不是她的嘴的嘴，慢慢读出那些保罗·d不认识的字。他念完之后，保罗·d以一种比第一次更莽撞的魄力说道：“对不起，斯坦普。哪儿出了岔子，因为那不是她的嘴。
”
斯坦普望着保罗·d的眼睛，眼睛里面那甜蜜的坚信几乎使他怀疑一切是否发生过，在十八年前，正当他和贝比·萨格斯看错了方向的时候，一个漂亮的小女奴认出了一顶帽子，然后冲向木棚屋去杀她的孩子们。
“我到这里的时候她都会爬了。我把她放在大车上时，她还只会坐着和翻身，一个星期不见，那小宝贝已经会爬了。不让她上楼梯可真费了牛劲。如今的娃娃一落地就会站、会走路了，可二十 年前我是个姑娘的时候，娃娃们好长时间还不能呢。霍华德生下来九个月没能抬起头来。贝比·萨格斯说是吃的问题，你知道。要是你除了奶水再没什么喂他们，那他们就不能太快开始做事情。我从来都只有奶水。我以为长了牙他们才可以嚼东西呢。没人可以打听。加纳太太从没生过孩子，可那个地方只有我俩是女人。
”
她在转圈。一圈又一圈，在屋里绕着。绕过果酱柜，绕过窗户，绕过前门，另一扇窗户，碗柜，起居室门，干燥的水池子，炉子———又绕回果酱柜。保罗·d坐在桌旁，看着她转到眼前又转到背后，像个缓慢而稳定的轮子一样转动着。有时她把手背在背后。要不就抓耳朵、捂嘴，或者在胸前抱起双臂。她一边转，一边不时地揉揉屁股，可是轮子一直没停。
“记得菲莉丝大妈么？从米诺村来的那个？每一回我生孩子，加纳先生都派你们去请她来帮我。只有那时候我才能见到她。有好多回，我都想到她那儿去一趟。就去说说话。我本来打算去求加纳太太，让她去做礼拜的时候在米诺村放下我。回家的路上再接我。我相信，要是求她她会答应的。我从来没问过，因为只有那天黑尔和我才能在阳光底下看见对方。所以再没有什么人了。能去说说话的，我是说，谁能知道我什么时候该开始嚼点东西喂他们。是因为嚼东西才长牙呢，还是应该等牙长出来再喂干粮？唉，现在我明白了，因为贝比·萨格斯喂她喂得特别好，一个星期之后，我到这里的时候，她已经在爬了。拦都拦不住。她那么喜欢那些楼梯磴，于是我们涂上油漆，好让她看着自己一路爬到顶。
”
回想起那件事，塞丝笑了。微笑戛然而止，变成猛的一抽气，可她没哆嗦也没闭眼睛。她转着圈子。
“我希望多知道些，可是，我说了，那地方没有个能说说话的人。女人，我是说。所以我试着回忆我在‘甜蜜之家’以前见过的。想想那里的女人是怎么做的。噢她们什么都懂。怎么做那种把娃娃吊在树上的东西———这样，你在田里干活儿的时候，就会看到他们没有危险。她们还给过他们一种树叶让他们嚼。薄荷，我想是，要么就是黄樟。也可能是雏菊。我至今还是不明白她们怎么编的那种篮子，幸亏我用不着它，因为我所有的活儿都在仓库和房子里，不过我忘了那种叶子是什么。我本来可以用那个的。我们要熏好多猪肉时，我就把巴格勒拴起来。到处都是火，他又什么地方都去。有好多回我差点儿丢了他。有一回他爬到井上，正好在井口上。我蹿了过去，刚好及时抓住了他。于是我明白了，我们在熬猪油、熏猪肉的时候不能看着他，没法子，我就拿一根绳子拴住他的脚脖子。绳子的长度只够在周围玩玩的，可是挨不到井架或是炉火。我并不喜欢他那个样子，可我没有别的办法。挺糟心的，你明白我的意思吧？全靠你自己，没有别的女人帮你熬过去。黑尔好是好，可他还到处有还债的活儿要干。他好不容易停下来睡一会儿的时候，我不想用那些烂事打扰他。西克索可帮了我大忙。我估计你记不得这个了，可是那回霍华德进了牛奶房，肯定是红科拉踩坏了他的手，把他的大拇指扭到了后面。我赶到的时候，它正要咬他呢。我至今不知道我是怎么把他弄出来的。西克索听见他的尖叫声就跑过来了。知道他是怎么弄的吗？一下子就把他的大拇指掰了回来，在手掌上把它和小拇指绑到了一起。你瞧，我怎么也不会想到那个法子。怎么也想不到。教了我好多东西呢，西克索。
”
他被弄得头晕目眩。一开始他以为是因为她转个不停。像绕着话题转一样绕着他兜圈子。一圈又一圈，从不改换方向，否则他的脑袋或许还能得救。然后他想，不对，是因为她的声音，太近了。她转的每一圈离他坐的地方都至少有三码远，可听她说起话来，就像是一个孩子对着你的耳朵低语，这样近，以致你能感到嘴唇翕动却听不出个子午卯酉。他只捕捉到了只言片语———那没关系，因为她还没说到主要部分呢———还没回答那个他并未直接提问，却放在给她看的剪报里的问题。也是放在微笑里的。因为他是微笑着把剪报递给她看的，所以，他都准备好了，当她对着这个笑话放声大笑的时候———她脸上的迷惑本该出现在另外的某个黑女人脸上———当然，他就会马上和她一起大笑起来。
“你能相信这种事吗？
”他会问。
“斯坦普真没脑子，”她会格格笑着，“一点儿脑子没有。
”
但是他的微笑一直没有机会发展。它悬在那里，又小又孤单；而她仔细看了看剪报，然后就把它递了回来。
也许是那个微笑，也许是她在他眼里看到的时刻准备着的爱———轻松而不加掩饰的，小马驹、传道士和孩子们看人的那种眼神，充满着你并不一定配得上的爱———驱使她开口道出了她从没告诉过贝比·萨格斯的事情，她从前觉得只对她一个人有责任解释一切。否则她会只讲报纸上说她讲过的话，而不再多说一句。塞丝只能认出七十五个印出来的词（一半出现在那张剪报 上），可她知道，自己不认识的字不比她要解释的话更有力。是那微笑和不加掩饰的爱驱使她来作一次尝试。
“我不用给你讲‘甜蜜之家’———它是什么———可也许你不知道我从那儿逃出去是什么滋味。”
她用双掌遮住下半边脸，稍作停顿，再一次在心里掂量那个奇迹的大小，它的味道。
“我成功了。我把大家都弄了出来。而且没靠黑尔。到那时为止，那是唯一一件我自己干成的事。铁了心的。然后事情很顺利，跟设想的一样。我们到了这里。我的每一个宝贝，还有我自己。
我生了他们，还把他们弄了出来，那可不是撞大运。是我干的。我有帮手，当然了，好多呢，可还是我干的；是我说的，走吧，我说的，快点。是我得多加小心。是我用了自己的头脑。而且还不止那些。那是一种自私自利，我从前根本不知道。感觉起来很好。很好，而且正确。我很大，保罗·d，又深又宽，一伸开胳膊就能把我所有的孩子都揽进怀里。我是那么宽。看来我到了这儿以后更爱他们。也许是因为我在肯塔基不能正当地爱他们，他们不是让我爱的。可是等我到了这里，等我从那辆大车上跳下来———只要我愿意，世界上没有谁我不能爱。你明白我的意思么？
”
保罗·d没搭腔，因为她并没指望或者要求他回答，可他的确明白了她的意思。在佐治亚的阿尔弗雷德听鸽子叫的时候，他既没有权利也不被允许去享受它，因为那个地方的雾、鸽子、阳光、铜锈、月亮———什么都属于那些持枪的人。有些是小个子，大个子也一样，愿意的话，他可以把他们像根树枝似的一个个折断。那些人知道他们自己的男子气概藏在枪杆子里，他们知道离开枪连狐狸也会笑话他们，却不因此感到羞耻。要是你随他们摆布，这些甚至让母狐狸笑话的“男人”会阻止你去聆听鸽子的叫声或者热爱月光。所以你要保护自己，去爱很小的东西。挑出天外最小的星星给自己；睡觉前扭着头躺下，为了看见壕沟的边缘上你最爱的那一颗。上锁链时在树木中间含羞偷偷瞥上一眼。草叶、蝾螈、蜘蛛、啄木鸟、甲虫、蚂蚁王国。任何再大点的东西都不行。
一个女人、一个孩子、一个兄弟———在佐治亚的阿尔弗雷德，一个那么大的爱将把你一劈两半。
他准确地理解了她的意思：到一个你想爱什么就爱什么的地方去———欲望无须得到批准———总而言之，那就是自由。
转啊，转啊，现在她又嚼起了别的事情，就是不往点子上说。
