when once or twice sethe tried to assert herself — be the unquestioned mother whose word waslaw and who knew what was best — beloved slammed things, wiped the table clean of plates,threw salt on the floor, broke a windowpane.
she was not like them. she was wild game, and nobody said, get on out of here, girl, and comeback when you get some sense. nobody said, you raise your hand to me and i will knock you intothe middle of next week. ax the trunk, the limb will die. honor thy mother and father that thy daysmay be long upon the land which the lord thy god giveth thee. i will wrap you round that doorknob, don't nobody work for you and god don't love ugly ways.
no, no. they mended the plates, swept the salt, and little by little it dawned on denver that if sethedidn't wake up one morning and pick up a knife, beloved might. frightened as she was by thething in sethe that could come out, it shamed her to see her mother serving a girl not much olderthan herself. when she saw her carrying out beloved's night bucket, denver raced to relieve her ofit. but the pain was unbearable when they ran low on food, and denver watched her mother gowithout — pick-eating around the edges of the table and stove: the hominy that stuck on thebottom; the crusts and rinds and peelings of things. once she saw her run her longest finger deep inan empty jam jar before rinsing and putting it away.
they grew tired, and even beloved, who was getting bigger, seemed nevertheless as exhausted asthey were. in any case she substituted a snarl or a tooth-suck for waving a poker around and 124was quiet. listless and sleepy with hunger denver saw the flesh between her mother's forefingerand thumb fade. saw sethe's eyes bright but dead, alert but vacant, paying attention to everythingabout beloved — her lineless palms, her forehead, the smile under her jaw, crooked and much toolong — everything except her basket-fat stomach. she also saw the sleeves of her own carnivalshirtwaist cover her fingers; hems that once showed her ankles now swept the floor. she sawthemselves beribboned, decked-out, limp and starving but locked in a love that wore everybodyout. then sethe spit up something she had not eaten and it rocked denver like gunshot. the jobshe started out with, protecting beloved from sethe, changed to protecting her mother frombeloved. now it was obvious that her mother could die and leave them both and what wouldbeloved do then? whatever was happening, it only worked with three — not two — and sinceneither beloved nor sethe seemed to care what the next day might bring (sethe happy whenbeloved was; beloved lapping devotion like cream), denver knew it was on her. she would haveto leave the yard; step off the edge of the world, leave the two behind and go ask somebody forhelp.
who would it be? who could she stand in front of who wouldn't shame her on learning that hermother sat around like a rag doll, broke down, finally, from trying to take care of and make up for.
denver knew about several people, from hearing her mother and grandmother talk. but she knew,personally, only two: an old man with white hair called stamp and lady jones. well, paul d, ofcourse. and that boy who told her about sethe. but they wouldn't do at all. her heart kicked and anitchy burning in her throat made her swallow all her saliva away. she didn't even know which wayto go. when sethe used to work at the restaurant and when she still had money to shop, she turnedright. back when denver went to lady jones' school, it was left.
the weather was warm; the day beautiful. it was april and everything alive was tentative. denverwrapped her hair and her shoulders. in the brightest of the carnival dresses and wearing a stranger'sshoes, she stood on the porch of 124 ready to be swallowed up in the world beyond the edge of theporch. out there where small things scratched and sometimes touched. where words could bespoken that would close your ears shut. where, if you were alone, feeling could overtake you andstick to you like a shadow. out there where there were places in which things so bad had happenedthat when you went near them it would happen again. like sweet home where time didn't pass and where, like her mother said, the bad was waiting for her as well. how would she know theseplaces? what was more — much more — -out there were whitepeople and how could you tellabout them? sethe said the mouth and sometimes the hands. grandma baby said there was nodefense — they could prowl at will, change from one mind to another, and even when they thoughtthey were behaving, it was a far cry from what real humans did.
