The Color Purple Collection Page 4

  I don’t know how long this been going on. I don’t know when they spect to conclude. I ease on back out, wave to the children by the creek, walk back on up home.

  Saturday morning early, us hear the wagon. Harpo, Sofia, the two babies be going off for the week-end, to visit Sofia sister.

  DEAR GOD,

  For over a month I have trouble sleeping. I stay up late as I can before Mr. _____ start complaining bout the price of kerosene, then I soak myself in a warm bath with milk and epsom salts, then sprinkle little witch hazel on my pillow and curtain out all the moonlight. Sometimes I git a few hours sleep. Then just when it look like it ought to be gitting good, I wakes up.

  At first I’d git up quick and drink some milk. Then I’d think bout counting fence post. Then I’d think bout reading the Bible.

  What it is? I ast myself.

  A little voice say, Something you done wrong. Somebody spirit you sin against. Maybe.

  Way late one night it come to me. Sofia. I sin against Sofia spirit.

  I pray she don’t find out, but she do.

  Harpo told.

  The minute she hear it she come marching up the path, toting a sack. Little cut all blue and red under her eye.

  She say, Just want you to know I looked to you for help.

  Ain’t I been helpful? I ast.

  She open up her sack. Here your curtains, she say. Here your thread. Here a dollar fur letting me use ’em.

  They yourn, I say, trying to push them back. I’m glad to help out. Do what I can.

  You told Harpo to beat me, she said.

  No I didn’t, I said.

  Don’t lie, she said.

  I didn’t mean it, I said.

  Then what you say it for? she ast.

  She standing there looking me straight in the eye. She look tired and her jaws full of air.

  I say it cause I’m a fool, I say. I say it cause I’m jealous of you. I say it cause you do what I can’t.

  What that? she say.

  Fight. I say.

  She stand there a long time, like what I said took the wind out her jaws. She mad before, sad now.

  She say, All my life I had to fight. I had to fight my daddy. I had to fight my brothers. I had to fight my cousins and my uncles. A girl child ain’t safe in a family of men. But I never thought I’d have to fight in my own house. She let out her breath. I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I’ll kill him dead before I let him beat me. Now if you want a dead son-in-law you just keep on advising him like you doing. She put her hand on her hip. I used to hunt game with a bow and arrow, she say.

  I stop the little trembling that started when I saw her coming. I’m so shame of myself, I say. And the Lord he done whip me little bit too.

  The Lord don’t like ugly, she say.

  And he ain’t stuck on pretty.

  This open the way for our talk to turn another way.

  I say, You feels sorry for me, don’t you?

  She think a minute. Yes ma’am, she say slow, I do.

  I think I know how come, but I ast her anyhow.

  She say, To tell the truth, you remind me of my mama. She under my daddy thumb. Naw, she under my daddy foot. Anything he say, goes. She never say nothing back. She never stand up for herself. Try to make a little half stand sometime for the children but that always backfire. More she stand up for us, the harder time he give her. He hate children and he hate where they come from. Tho from all the children he got, you’d never know it.

  I never know nothing bout her family. I thought, looking at her, nobody in her family could be scared.

  How many he got? I ast.

  Twelve. She say.

  Whew, I say. My daddy got six by my mama before she die, I say. He got four more by the wife he got now. I don’t mention the two he got by me.

  How many girls? she ast.

  Five, I say. How bout in your family?

  Six boys, six girls. All the girls big and strong like me. Boys big and strong too, but all the girls stick together. Two brothers stick with us too, sometime. Us git in a fight, it’s a sight to see.

  I ain’t never struck a living thing, I say. Oh, when I was at home I tap the little ones on the behind to make ’em behave, but not hard enough to hurt.

  What you do when you git mad? she ast.

  I think. I can’t even remember the last time I felt mad, I say. I used to git mad at my mammy cause she put a lot of work on me. Then I see how sick she is. Couldn’t stay mad at her. Couldn’t be mad at my daddy cause he my daddy. Bible say, Honor father and mother no matter what. Then after while every time I got mad, or start to feel mad, I got sick. Felt like throwing up. Terrible feeling. Then I start to feel nothing at all.

  Sofia frown. Nothing at all?

  Well, sometime Mr. _____ git on me pretty hard. I have to talk to Old Maker. But he my husband. I shrug my shoulders. This life soon be over, I say. Heaven last all ways.

  You ought to bash Mr. _____ head open, she say.

  Think bout heaven later.

  Not much funny to me. That funny. I laugh. She laugh. Then us both laugh so hard us flop down on the step.

  Let’s make quilt pieces out of these messed up curtains, she say. And I run git my pattern book.

  I sleeps like a baby now.

  DEAR GOD,

  Shug Avery sick and nobody in this town want to take the Queen Honeybee in. Her mammy say She told her so. Her pappy say, Tramp. A woman at church say she dying— maybe two berkulosis or some kind of nasty woman disease. What? I want to ast, but don’t. The women at church sometime nice to me. Sometime not. They look at me there struggling with Mr. _____ children. Trying to drag ’em to the church, trying to keep ’em quiet after us get there. They some of the same ones used to be here both times I was big. Sometimes they think I don’t notice, they stare at me. Puzzle.

  I keep my head up, best I can. I do a right smart for the preacher. Clean the floor and windows, make the wine, wash the altar linen. Make sure there’s wood for the stove in wintertime. He call me Sister Celie. Sister Celie, he say, You faithful as the day is long. Then he talk to the other ladies and they mens. I scurry bout, doing this, doing that. Mr. _____ sit back by the door gazing here and there. The womens smile in his direction every chance they git. He never look at me or even notice.

  Even the preacher got his mouth on Shug Avery, now she down. He take her condition for his text. He don’t call no name, but he don’t have to. Everybody know who he mean. He talk bout a strumpet in short skirts, smoking cigarettes, drinking gin. Singing for money and taking other women mens. Talk bout slut, hussy, heifer and streetcleaner.

  I cut my eyes back at Mr. ____ when he say that. Streetcleaner. Somebody got to stand up for Shug, I think. But he don’t say nothing. He cross his legs first to one side, then to the other. He gaze out the window. The same women smile at him, say amen gainst Shug.

  But once us home he never stop to take off his clothes. He call down to Harpo and Sofia house. Harpo come running.

  Hitch up the wagon, he say.

  Where us going? say Harpo.

  Hitch up the wagon, he say again.

  Harpo hitch up the wagon. They stand there and talk a few minutes out by the barn. Then Mr. _____ drive off.

  One good thing bout the way he never do any work round the place, us never miss him when he gone.

  Five days later I look way off up the road and see the wagon coming back. It got sort of a canopy over it now, made out of old blankets or something. My heart begin to beat like furry, and the first thing I try to do is change my dress.

  But too late for that. By time I git my head and arm out the old dress, I see the wagon pull up in the yard. Plus a new dress won’t help none with my notty head and dusty headrag, my old everyday shoes and the way I smell.

  I don’t know what to do, I’m so beside myself. I stand there in the middle of the kitchen. Mind whirling. I feels like Who Would Have Thought.

  Celie, I hear Mr. _____ call. Harpo.

&nbs
p; I stick my head and my arm back in my old dress and wipe the sweat and dirt off my face as best I can. I come to the door. Yessir? I ast, and trip over the broom I was sweeping with when I first notice the wagon.

  Harpo and Sofia in the yard now, looking inside the wagon. They faces grim.

  Who this? Harpo ast.

  The woman should have been your mammy, he say.

  Shug Avery? Harpo ast. He look up at me.

  Help me git her in the house, Mr. _____ say.

  I think my heart gon fly out my mouth when I see one of her foots come poking out.

  She not lying down. She climbing down tween Harpo and Mr. ____. And she dress to kill. She got on a red wool dress and chestful of black beads. A shiny black hat with what look like chickinhawk feathers curve down side one cheek, and she carrying a little snakeskin bag, match her shoes.

  She look so stylish it like the trees all round the house draw themself up tall for a better look. Now I see she stumble, tween the two men. She don’t seem that well acquainted with her feets.

  Close up I see all this yellow powder caked up on her face. Red rouge. She look like she ain’t long for this world but dressed well for the next. But I know better.

  Come on in, I want to cry. To shout. Come on in. With God help, Celie going to make you well. But I don’t say nothing. It not my house. Also I ain’t been told nothing.

  They git halfway up the step, Mr. _____ look up at me.

  Celie, he say. This here Shug Avery. Old friend of the family. Fix up the spare room. Then he look down at her, hold her in one arm, hold on to the rail with the other. Harpo on the other side, looking sad. Sofia and the children in the yard, watching.

  I don’t move at once, cause I can’t. I need to see her eyes. I feel like once I see her eyes my feets can let go the spot where they stuck.

  Git moving, he say, sharp.

  And then she look up.

  Under all that powder her face black as Harpo. She got a long pointed nose and big fleshy mouth. Lips look like black plum. Eyes big, glossy. Feverish. And mean. Like, sick as she is, if a snake cross her path, she kill it.

  She look me over from head to foot. Then she cackle. Sound like a death rattle. You sure is ugly, she say, like she ain’t believed it.

  DEAR GOD,

  Ain’t nothing wrong with Shug Avery. She just sick. Sicker than anybody I ever seen. She sicker than my mama was when she die. But she more evil than my mama and that keep her alive.

  Mr. _____ be in the room with her all time of the night or day. He don’t hold her hand though. She too evil for that. Turn loose my goddam hand, she say to Mr. ____. What the matter with you, you crazy? I don’t need no weak little boy can’t say no to his daddy hanging on me. I need me a man, she say. A man. She look at him and roll her eyes and laugh. It not much of a laugh but it keep him away from the bed. He sit over in the corner away from the lamp. Sometime she wake up in the night and don’t even see. But he there. Sitting in the shadows chewing on his pipe. No tobacco in it. First thing she said, I don’t want to smell no stinking blankety-blank pipe, you hear me, Albert?

  Who Albert, I wonder. Then I remember Albert Mr. ____ first name.

  Mr. _____ don’t smoke. Don’t drink. Don’t even hardly eat. He just got her in that little room, watching every breath.

  What happen to her I ast?

  You don’t want her here, just say so, he say. Won’t do no good. But if that the way you feel... He don’t finish.

  I want her here, I say, too quick. He look at me like maybe I’m planning something bad.

  I just want to know what happen, I say.

  I look at his face. It tired and sad and I notice his chin weak. Not much chin there at all. I have more chin, I think. And his clothes dirty, dirty. When he pull them off, dust rise.

  Nobody fight for Shug, he say. And a little water come to his eyes.

  DEAR GOD,

  They have made three babies together but he squeamish bout giving her a bath. Maybe he figure he start thinking bout things he shouldn’t. But what bout me? First time I got the full sight of Shug Avery long black body with it black plum nipples, look like her mouth, I thought I had turned into a man.

  What you staring at? she ast. Hateful. She weak as a kitten. But her mouth just pack with claws. You never seen a naked woman before?

  No ma’am, I said. I never did. Cept for Sofia, and she so plump and ruddy and crazy she feel like my sister.

  She say, Well take a good look. Even if I is just a bag of bones now. She have the nerve to put one hand on her naked hip and bat her eyes at me. Then she suck her teef and roll her eyes at the ceiling while I wash her.

  I wash her body, it feel like I’m praying. My hands tremble and my breath short.

  She say, You ever have any kids?

  I say, Yes ma’am.

  She say, How many and don’t you yes ma’am me, I ain’t that old.

  I say, two.

  She ast me Where they is?

  I say, I don’t know.

  She look at me funny.

  My kids with they grandma, she say. She could stand the kids, I had to go.

  You miss ’em? I ast.

  Naw, she say. I don’t miss nothing.

  DEAR GOD,

  I ast Shug Avery what she want for breakfast. She say, What yall got? I say ham, grits, eggs, biscuits, coffee, sweet milk or butter milk, flapjacks. Jelly and jam.

  She say, Is that all? What about orange juice, grapefruit, strawberries and cream. Tea. Then she laugh.

  I don’t want none of your damn food, she say. Just gimme a cup of coffee and hand me my cigarettes.

  I don’t argue. I git the coffee and light her cigarette. She wearing a long white gown and her thin black hand stretching out of it to hold the white cigarette looks just right. Something bout it, maybe the little tender veins I see and the big ones I try not to, make me scared. I feel like something pushing me forward. If I don’t watch out I’ll have hold of her hand, tasting her fingers in my mouth.

  Can I sit in here and eat with you? I ast.

  She shrug. She busy looking at a magazine. White women in it laughing, holding they beads out on one finger, dancing on top of motocars. Jumping into fountains. She flip the pages. Look dissatisfied. Remind me of a child trying to git something out a toy it can’t work yet.

  She drink her coffee, puff on her cigarette. I bite into a big juicy piece of home cured ham. You can smell this ham for a mile when you cooking it, it perfume up her little room with no trouble at all.

  I lavish butter on a hot biscuit, sort of wave it about. I sop up ham gravey and splosh my eggs in with my grits.

  She blow more and more smoke. Look down in her coffee like maybe its something solid at the bottom.

  Finally she say, Celie, I believe I could drink a glass of water. And this here by the bed ain’t fresh.

  She hold out her glass.

  I put my plate down on the card table by the bed. I go dip her up some water. I come back, pick up my plate. Look like a little mouse been nibbling the biscuit, a rat run off with the ham.

  She act like nothing happen. Begin to complain bout being tired. Doze on off to sleep.

  Mr. _____ ast me how I git her to eat.

  I say, Nobody living can stand to smell home cured ham without tasting it. If they dead they got a chance. Maybe.

  Mr. _____ laugh.

  I notice something crazy in his eyes.

  I been scared, he say. Scared. And he cover up his eyes with his hands.

  DEAR GOD,

  Shug Avery sit up in bed a little today. I wash and comb out her hair. She got the nottiest, shortest, kinkiest hair I ever saw, and I loves every strand of it. The hair that come out in my comb I kept. Maybe one day I’ll get a net, make me a rat to pomp up my own hair.

  I work on her like she a doll or like she Olivia—or like she mama. I comb and pat, comb and pat. First she say, hurry up and git finish. Then she melt down a little and lean back gainst my knees. That feel just right, she
say. That feel like mama used to do. Or maybe not mama. Maybe grandma. She reach for another cigarette. Start hum a little tune.

  What that song? I ast. Sound low down dirty to me. Like what the preacher tell you its sin to hear. Not to mention sing.

  She hum a little more. Something come to me, she say. Something I made up. Something you help scratch out my head.

  DEAR GOD,

  Mr. _____ daddy show up this evening. He a little short shrunk up man with a bald head and gold spectacles. He clear his throat a lot, like everything he say need announcement. Talk with his head leant to the side.

  He come right to the point.

  Just couldn’t rest till you got her in your house, could you? he say, coming up the step.

  Mr. _____ don’t say nothing. Look out cross the railing at the trees, over the top of the well. Eyes rest on the top of Harpo and Sofia house.

  Won’t you have a seat? I ast, pushing him up a chair. How bout a cool drink of water?

  Through the window I hear Shug humming and humming, practicing her little song. I sneak back to her room and shet the window.

  Old Mr. _____ say to Mr. ____, Just what is it bout this Shug Avery anyway, he say. She black as tar, she nappy headed. She got legs like baseball bats.

  Mr. _____ don’t say nothing. I drop little spit in Old Mr. _____ water.

  Why, say Old Mr. ____, she ain’t even clean. I hear she got the nasty woman disease.

  I twirl the spit round with my finger. I think bout ground glass, wonder how you grind it. But I don’t feel mad at all. Just interest.