I frozen, my heart in my chest beatin' like one of them professional drummers. My voice is stuck in my throat, an' I can't say nothin'. I can't even mumble one word, not even a word. I ain't even able to look a Samuel, my heart too guilty fo' a crime I didn' commit. But I suppose I sorta did- Lloyd my to-be husban', and daddy my daddy an' I been talkin' ta Samuel too much. Puttin' him in danger. I wanna cry- I real do. But I manage ta hold back, the water that collected in my eyes stayin' there. I jus' don' know what ta do.
In my stomach- I can feel little butterflies flyin' 'round. The whole thin' make me wanna puke as much as dance 'round, singin' marry Church songs as I go. Inside me there a battle- fo' every thin' I think. Samuel or no? And then the misses. Do I believe her or no?
I jus' don know what to do.
Cecile clear her throat, an' look at me- reachin' out her black hand to touch my pale, white one. There such a difference on the outside- such a contrast.
"Babe- there ain't nothin' you coulda done."
She bring her otha hand to my shoulder, squeezin' a bit. It make me so much better- cause it sompin' she used to do, always. It sompin' a mother should do- an' Cecile is all I got. She wron' though, I coulda done lots I jus didn't. When I wanna, I guess I gotta way of not thinkin'.
When Mary an' me was just girls, I was the one who could play pretend. I was always the princess, an' Mary was always Mary. She didn't understand how to pretend, how to be absorbed in the role so much that you forget that you are actually you. I guess that's a skill that never really left me. I can still play pretend real good.
Tears start to well in my eyes, but I don't wanna show no slaves that I real weak. Even if they is just Cecile an' Samuel.
"You coulda done nothin'," Samuel add. I can hear him behind me- his breath leavin' that large, big body of his. I just wanna curl up into him, feel the heat of his chest on my skin. I want him to protect me from everythin'... But that jus' a wish that ain't gonna come true. No matter how much I reason with the Lord. It's wron', this feelin'. It so, so wron'.
"Don't cry."
His hand is on my shoulder- so warm. He squeezes, in a reassurin' way, not a mean one, as Cecile does the same with my hand. And it then that the tears finally start to spill over, down my cheeks onto the table.
In my stomach- I can feel little butterflies flyin' 'round. The whole thin' make me wanna puke as much as dance 'round, singin' marry Church songs as I go. Inside me there a battle- fo' every thin' I think. Samuel or no? And then the misses. Do I believe her or no?
I jus' don know what to do.
Cecile clear her throat, an' look at me- reachin' out her black hand to touch my pale, white one. There such a difference on the outside- such a contrast.
"Babe- there ain't nothin' you coulda done."
She bring her otha hand to my shoulder, squeezin' a bit. It make me so much better- cause it sompin' she used to do, always. It sompin' a mother should do- an' Cecile is all I got. She wron' though, I coulda done lots I jus didn't. When I wanna, I guess I gotta way of not thinkin'.
When Mary an' me was just girls, I was the one who could play pretend. I was always the princess, an' Mary was always Mary. She didn't understand how to pretend, how to be absorbed in the role so much that you forget that you are actually you. I guess that's a skill that never really left me. I can still play pretend real good.
Tears start to well in my eyes, but I don't wanna show no slaves that I real weak. Even if they is just Cecile an' Samuel.
"You coulda done nothin'," Samuel add. I can hear him behind me- his breath leavin' that large, big body of his. I just wanna curl up into him, feel the heat of his chest on my skin. I want him to protect me from everythin'... But that jus' a wish that ain't gonna come true. No matter how much I reason with the Lord. It's wron', this feelin'. It so, so wron'.
"Don't cry."
His hand is on my shoulder- so warm. He squeezes, in a reassurin' way, not a mean one, as Cecile does the same with my hand. And it then that the tears finally start to spill over, down my cheeks onto the table.
