"So you are gettin' married, then?" Samuel ask, his voice not matchin' how I usually describe it. He normally different- all stron' like his skin, all rough like those little bumps on the tips of his fingers. But today- or tonight I guess, he sound like a little boy. I wanna wrap my arms around 'em, bury his face in my bosom an' tell 'em comfortin' lies 'till he calms down. But I ain't able to do that- cause he ain't a child. An' even if he were- it ain't my right to do that.
"I dunno. I think."
The night started out all normal- me bringin' my supplies an' Samuel beginnin' to spell words fo' me. But after we got to cat, Samuel stopped put everythin' down, an' looked at me 'till I looked back. Then he asked if everythin' was alrigh', in a way that made me feel like he was my protector. I felt a real good urge ta wrap my arms 'round him an' never let go. But I didn't- instead I jus' spilled out everythin' that been wron'. Everythin' cept one thin'.
"Well," he reach out to take my hand, an' I let 'em take it- though he ain't supposed to be touchin' me. He ain't supposed to be out a night neither- or be able to learn to read an' write. But I guess that don't stop him none. "Do you wanna get married?"
"Yeah," I pause. "Nah, I mean I dunno. Not really I guess, but I should wanna get married."
I shouldn't be tellin' 'em this. I should be inside, breakin' no rules, sleepin' like I good little gurl. I shouldn't be talkin' to a black man like this. But I guess it don't stop me.
"Why don'ts you wanna get married?"
"I always jus' wanna be alone- don't wanna listen to nobody. Guess that makes me a bad lady."
"It ain't Lloyd then?"
I shake my head. Lloyd'd be a fine gentleman fo' Mary, fo' anyone else really 'cept me. We sorta got back on good terms after our talk- little mo' than before. But I don' wan' him.
"It ain't 'em," I say- slow, careful. "It me. I ain't ready righ' now. I ain't in love with nobody."
I expect myself to cry- which has been the normal lately- but I don'. It ain't sad that I ain't in love- cause I don' wanna be.
He don' respond, cause wha' you really supposed to say to that? He jus' rub his thumb 'gainst my finger- which make me feel better- even mo' so than with words.
"I dunno. I think."
The night started out all normal- me bringin' my supplies an' Samuel beginnin' to spell words fo' me. But after we got to cat, Samuel stopped put everythin' down, an' looked at me 'till I looked back. Then he asked if everythin' was alrigh', in a way that made me feel like he was my protector. I felt a real good urge ta wrap my arms 'round him an' never let go. But I didn't- instead I jus' spilled out everythin' that been wron'. Everythin' cept one thin'.
"Well," he reach out to take my hand, an' I let 'em take it- though he ain't supposed to be touchin' me. He ain't supposed to be out a night neither- or be able to learn to read an' write. But I guess that don't stop him none. "Do you wanna get married?"
"Yeah," I pause. "Nah, I mean I dunno. Not really I guess, but I should wanna get married."
I shouldn't be tellin' 'em this. I should be inside, breakin' no rules, sleepin' like I good little gurl. I shouldn't be talkin' to a black man like this. But I guess it don't stop me.
"Why don'ts you wanna get married?"
"I always jus' wanna be alone- don't wanna listen to nobody. Guess that makes me a bad lady."
"It ain't Lloyd then?"
I shake my head. Lloyd'd be a fine gentleman fo' Mary, fo' anyone else really 'cept me. We sorta got back on good terms after our talk- little mo' than before. But I don' wan' him.
"It ain't 'em," I say- slow, careful. "It me. I ain't ready righ' now. I ain't in love with nobody."
I expect myself to cry- which has been the normal lately- but I don'. It ain't sad that I ain't in love- cause I don' wanna be.
He don' respond, cause wha' you really supposed to say to that? He jus' rub his thumb 'gainst my finger- which make me feel better- even mo' so than with words.
