"You think I 'ought to get married to 'em?"
We been discussin' this almos' all night lon', back an' forth- jus the same words repeated different. I kno' I should stop obsessin', an' maybe listen to Samuel- ask 'em the story 'bout his hand. But I jus' can't- cause marriage is the only thought on my mind. I don't want it- but I can't stop thinkin' 'bout it. An' I jus' can't stop talkin' 'bout it neither.
"I think you ought to do wha' you can."
"But that all I can."
He brush a stray curl 'way from my face- a gesture way too intimate fo' a colored man to make to a white gurl. I think he relize it too- cause he jumps way real fast, even movin' his body further back. I miss his warmth a bit- but I don't admit this aloud. I try not to even admit ta myself.
"That ain't true," he say. "Look a the color of you skin. Wha' do you see."
I look down, even though I already kno' the answer. I'm white. I ain't as trapped as he is- but I ain't free neither.
"But look elsewhere. Look at my bre-" I stop myself,'fore I say somethin' real bad. A woman should be shy an' gentle 'bout her body- not jus' talk 'bout it like it no big deal. "I'm a gurl."
He sigh. "You don' kno' how much power you got, Corinne."
I dunno wha' he mean by that- so I make no response. My thoughts are still on Lloyd- still on me in a white, pearl weddin' gown walkin' up with my daddy in a real grand Church. An' then me hidin' my belly beneath large dresses, then me with a daughter. Me with a son.
"But do you think I should do it? The whole marriage thin'?"
He groan a bit- but in turn inta laughter. It come deep from 'is gut- his whole body shaken' with it. Soon I joinin' him an' we both laughen fo' no good reason. But if feel nice, so we keep on goin'. Eventually I got tears sproutin' fro' my eyes.
"I think it 'bout time to head inside. That what I think."
I glance up at the sky, an' while it not light yet- it ain't as dark as it'd once been. It's nearin' the mornin' an' though, I get to sleep in some tomorrow- cause it ain't the Holy Day- I don' get to stay in bed all though the mornin'.
"You right. 'Night Samuel," I say, standin' up an' beginin' to head inside. I full three steps away 'fore I hear 'is response.
"'Night Corinne."
I don't say nothin' back.
We been discussin' this almos' all night lon', back an' forth- jus the same words repeated different. I kno' I should stop obsessin', an' maybe listen to Samuel- ask 'em the story 'bout his hand. But I jus' can't- cause marriage is the only thought on my mind. I don't want it- but I can't stop thinkin' 'bout it. An' I jus' can't stop talkin' 'bout it neither.
"I think you ought to do wha' you can."
"But that all I can."
He brush a stray curl 'way from my face- a gesture way too intimate fo' a colored man to make to a white gurl. I think he relize it too- cause he jumps way real fast, even movin' his body further back. I miss his warmth a bit- but I don't admit this aloud. I try not to even admit ta myself.
"That ain't true," he say. "Look a the color of you skin. Wha' do you see."
I look down, even though I already kno' the answer. I'm white. I ain't as trapped as he is- but I ain't free neither.
"But look elsewhere. Look at my bre-" I stop myself,'fore I say somethin' real bad. A woman should be shy an' gentle 'bout her body- not jus' talk 'bout it like it no big deal. "I'm a gurl."
He sigh. "You don' kno' how much power you got, Corinne."
I dunno wha' he mean by that- so I make no response. My thoughts are still on Lloyd- still on me in a white, pearl weddin' gown walkin' up with my daddy in a real grand Church. An' then me hidin' my belly beneath large dresses, then me with a daughter. Me with a son.
"But do you think I should do it? The whole marriage thin'?"
He groan a bit- but in turn inta laughter. It come deep from 'is gut- his whole body shaken' with it. Soon I joinin' him an' we both laughen fo' no good reason. But if feel nice, so we keep on goin'. Eventually I got tears sproutin' fro' my eyes.
"I think it 'bout time to head inside. That what I think."
I glance up at the sky, an' while it not light yet- it ain't as dark as it'd once been. It's nearin' the mornin' an' though, I get to sleep in some tomorrow- cause it ain't the Holy Day- I don' get to stay in bed all though the mornin'.
"You right. 'Night Samuel," I say, standin' up an' beginin' to head inside. I full three steps away 'fore I hear 'is response.
"'Night Corinne."
I don't say nothin' back.
