nights to come he would pay more attention to his own needs, but this
time was for her.
It was exotic, languorous love to her, bringing her a pleasure she had
not even imagined existed. Holding him close to her, deep inside her, her
hands stroked the welts on his back that were the focus of her love, for
she believed she would heal his heart, and leave it clear and unscarred,
unlike his back, no matter how deep the wounds there.
When it was done, they lay together, like naked, pagan children, and tiny
tears of love appeared in Queen's eyes. Davis leaned over her.
"On the plantation I swore I would drink the tears of every black who
ever cried," he told her softly.
Her put his mouth to her eyes and drank her tears.
"It would be an ocean," he whispered.
652 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
He worried that it had been bad for her, that he had hurt her, but she
shook her head, and laughed away his concerns. She nestled into his
powerful embrace, touched his lips with her fingers, and asked why he did
not smile. So he smiled for her, and held her hand, and could not tell her
the depth of his love, for he had never found love in the world before, and
his could not match her own.
She came to him every Thursday, and brought little comforts for the shack,
but nothing that would make him feel that she was trying to tame him. They
made love every Thursday, and he never betrayed her trust in him, and never
took more from her than she could give.
Fall came, and the first chill of winter. He fixed some old glass into the
open space that was his window, and bought a stove so that they might be
warm. He celebrated Christmas at church with her, and then walked her home
to the sisters, for she had to serve their dinner. She gave him her gift,
a new shirt, and he was embarrassed, because he had nothing for her. He had
never given anything to anyone, because he had never had anyone to give
anything to. She laughed, and told him it didn't matter. His love was all
the present she needed. Yet she wanted something more.
"I want yo' baby," she whispered to him one night when they lay in each
other's arms, and she thought he was asleep. She wanted to feel his seed
quicken inside her, and swell and grow big in her belly, until she exploded
with the product of his love.
Davis was not asleep, but he did not stir, did not open his eyes. He did not
want her to know he had heard her, for he did not know how to explain to her
that he would not bring a child into this world.
From his earliest memories he had been consumed with bitterness at his
enslaved state. A dark and rebellious boy, he had grown into a darker, more
rebellious man, and he viewed with contempt those other slaves who seemed
prepared to tolerate their imprisonment, or make the best of it, for Davis
saw no good to be made of it. He was known only by his given name, because
he refused to take the surname of his Massa, as was common practice on the
plantations, and would not
QUEEN 653
answer to it if called. He had a strong need for women, but avoided them,
and deliberately chose an ascetic life, shunning human contact. He wanted
no consolation or condolence for his plight, and no simple comfort that
might ease it. Much as he pined for a wife and children, he would not
bring a child into this world, born into bondage. All he wanted was his
freedom and when he had it he would be his own man and until then he would
not belong to anyone.
Not even his Massa. He did as little work as he possibly could, was the
bane of the overseers, and felt the frequent bite of the lash. He ran
away at the first opportunity, and thought himself, for a moment, free.
He was exultant, but the reality that his freedom was a myth soon became
clear to him. As able and resourceful as he was, the chances of being
able to get from southern Alabama to the northern side of the MasonDixon
line were virtually impossible, and he did not know how to contact anyone
on the Underground Railroad that might have eased his passage. Slave
catchers and dogs came after him, and within days he was back at the
plantation and was given a hundred lashes. Since he could not escape to
any secure freedom, he set his mind to breaking his Massa's will. He ran
away whenever he could, fully expecting to be caught, taken back, and
lashed. Eventually, he thought, they must see reason, eventually they
must understand that he would not stay, and then they would let him go.
Or kill him. Like Cap'n Jack before him, he thought slavery irrational
and he could not understand why rational people tolerated it. In this,
like .Cap'n Jack, he profoundly underestimated the society he was dealing
with. His Massa would willingly have killed him rather than let him be
free, for to let one slave go simply because he didn't want to be a slave
was to undermine everything the society was built on, and stood for, and
aspired to.
Marked as a persistent and dangerous troublemaker, when the war came
Davis was kept in leg shackles, so that he would not escape, for then he
might have made it to sanctuary. When he was released from those shackles
with emancipation, it was almost anticlimactic to him. Having fought
against one thing all his life, now he had nothing left to fight for, and
he did not know what he wanted to achieve. Being free, he discovered, was
rfot enough for him.
654 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
He traveled northward and what he saw appalled him. The vaunted equality of
reconstruction was turning into a jungle of survival by shameless
opportunists and many good and decent men were trampled in the rush.
Segregation was rampant, and they could not even ride in the same streetcar
as whites. Although some black men with property could vote, how many black
men had that much property? The merits of a few, a very few, were being
recognized, but that was mostly patronage, crumbs from the white man's
table. And it would always be like that. Always and always and always. No
white man would ever give real power to a black man, or real freedom. It
had to be taken.
When Queen told him that she wanted his baby, his soul blenched. There was
nothing for a black boy in this world, and it was even worse for a black
girl.
He loved Queen as much as he could, but not as much as she loved him. Her
love collided with his hate, and it made the pain worse than any white
man's lash, and sweeter than any honey.
Queen never told him again that she wanted his baby, because there was no
need. He had already given her the gift that she wanted from him.
76
She told no one about it until it was inevitable. She didn't
believe it herself until it was inevitable. When she missed her
time of the month in late November, she wasn't unduly con
cemed, for she was not always regular, but as the days dragged
through December
she began to worry, and before Christmas
she was sure. She was lethargic and often unwell, and even
though she tried to pretend it was because of winter chills,
every morning she looked in the mirror and held her stomach
to see if it was growing, if her secret was starting to show.
QUEEN 655
Then the Preacher gave a sermon about lust and fornication, and the plight
of the poor innocents brought into the world by those who could not, would
not, avoid temptation.
"Fornication, and all uncleanness, let it not be named among you; let it
not be once named among you, as becometh saints! "
Queen believed the words were directed exclusively at her, and cried a
little, for she thought what she did with Davis was beautiful, and not
unclean, but blessed in the sight of the Lord. And He had rewarded her
with this precious gift, which would be hers and hers alone, and which
she would love. She fought the guilt the Preacher made her feel, and
became resentful, for the angel had called Mary blessed, and she was so
in awe of the process of creation, of the miracle of this tiny thing
growing inside her, that she believed it divine.
" From fornication, and all other deadly sin; from all the deceits of the
world, the flesh, and the devil, good Lord, deliver us."
She flushed, for she had been deceitful. She had deceived Joyce and the
sisters by not telling them about her baby. She had even deceived Davis
by telling him that she wanted his child and not telling him her wish had
been granted. But she did not believe she had sinned.
"Deliver us, 0 Lord, deliver us. Hallelujah!"
The rising shouts of the congregation, in full-throated agreement with
the Preacher, made her despair, and she began to worry about the future
of her child, if he should be fatherless, for she had already decided it
was a boy. She despaired for herself, for what would people say to her,
do to her, when they found out? She looked at Davis, who was sitting
beside her. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. Queen wondered if
he had guessed already, but knew he had not.
Someone else had guessed. Joyce kept her eyes on Queen during the sermon,
and saw the guilt, the eyes cast down to the floor. She saw Queen took
at Davis, saw him take her hand, and saw the great need that Queen had
for him. Joyce sighed, and prayed she was wrong, but knew she was not.
She would deal with it when it had to be dealt with, and until then she
could only pray.
656 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Someone else had guessed as well. Miss Gippy had sharp ears, sharper eyes,
and a fervid imagination. She had no experience with pregnancy, but had a
fascination with fallen women, being so far from the precipice herself. In
her younger days she had spent much time in Boston, lecturing to those who
had strayed from the straight and narrow, and had questioned them avidly.
She thought she knew all the classic symptoms, even if that knowledge was
superficial. When she heard Queen being sick a couple of times in the
morning, she smiled smugly to herself, and made a wild, but utterly correct,
guess as to the reason. Miss Gippy said nothing to her sister. She preferred
to wait and see what developed and take advantage of those developments to
save the sinner from hell. Disillusioned with the life the Lord had assigned
her, Miss Gippy had an occasional maliciousness about her, which her sister
did not share.
Miss Mandy, who should have been the first to guess, never did, and had to
be told. And finally it was too choice a secret for Miss Gippy to keep to
herself.
Queen had developed a curious habit. Plentifully supplied with food from
the sister's pantry, she began to steal food. It was no great crime,
because the odd thing was that she took only what she could have had for
free. It didn't happen very often, but occasionally, when she was depressed
or agitated, concerned for the future welfare of her boy. She would filch
a piece of toast from Miss Gippy's morning tray, or snatch a cake from the
afternoon tea stand. She served breakfast one morning-crisply fried bacon
and poached eggs, toast and butter and jam-and she stood waiting at the
table as the sisters said their prayers. She always had to wait until the
prayers were done, in case they needed anything more once they began to
eat, and she was expected to pray with them.
Miss Mandy's eyes were firmly closed, as it was her turn to lead the
prayer. Queen, who knew she could not keep her condition secret much
longer, had her eyes firmly open, and fixed on the basket of toast.
"0 Lord, we thank Thee for Thy precious bounty," Miss Mandy intoned. "And
for Thy many blessings on these Thy humble servants."
Sure that no one was watching her, sure that the sisters' eyes were closed
in prayer, Queen, quickly, furtively, grabbed
QUEEN 657
a piece of toast from the table, hid it under her apron, and stuffed it
into her pocket.
"Queen, what on earth are you doing?" Miss Gippy said sharply. Her eyes
had been only partially closed, and watching Queen.
Queen flushed, and prayed that the floor would open up and swallow her.
"Nuttin', Missy," she said, lapsing into dialect, as she always did when
she was nervous. "I ain't done nuttin'."
Miss Mandy looked up, wondering what the fuss was about.
"I saw you take that piece of toast," Miss Gippy admonished. "Don't we
feed you enough, that you have to steal from our very table?"
Queen couldn't think of anything to say, and looked at the floor.
"The eighth commandment, girl!" Miss Gippy snapped. To Miss Mandy, the
situation was completely confusing, but she understood there had been a
puzzling crisis, and discipline was needed.
"I think you'd better go to your room," Miss Mandy said, longing to be
alone with her sister, to find out what the matter was.
"After you've put the toast back," Miss Gippy added.
The miserable Queen took the toast from her pocket, put it back in its
basket, and scurried from the room. Miss Mandy waited for some word from
her sister, but Miss Gippy was enjoying herself far too much. She
buttered a piece of toast, spread it liberally with apple jelly, and took
a bite from it.
"Well?" Miss Mandy asked.
There was another little silence while Miss Gippy chewed her food. It was
not good manners to speak with your mouth full. She took a sip of tea and
sprinkled salt on her eggs.
"Nesting," she said casually, and tucked into her breakfast.
It was as well that she did so, and thus could not see the look on her
sister's face. Miss Mandy stared at her, first with amazement, and then
with something very close to hate. At that moment, she hated Gippy, she
hated Queen, she hated the world. It was her dearest wish in life to have
a child, and now even the physical possibility of it was gone. She was r />
consumed with envy. She had been so good all her life, and loved
658 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
the Lord, and He had denied her this simple reward. Yet Queen, immoral,
illegitimate, nigra Queen, had been providentially blessed. 'Me reward for
chastity was emptiness, and the wages of sin were glorious. It simply wasn't
fair, and her only defense was to denounce the animal propensities of all
blacks.
"Pagans," she whispered harshly.
Miss Gippy nodded her agreement, a tiny drop of egg yolk dribbling down her
chin. She picked up her napkin and wiped it away, entirely satisfied with
her morning.
Queen sat on her bed, rocking gently, and keening, pity for her own distress
and a lullaby for her unborn child.
She had no alternative now. She had to tell someone, ask someone for help.
But it would not be Davis.
" I warned you," Joyce said angrily. "Don't let him get too close, I said!"
"Well, I did!" Queen blazed back. "So there ain't no point in makin'
speeches about it!"
She turned away, her flash of anger quickly spent and dejection its
immediate successor.
"What am I going to do, Joyce?" she cried. Joyce moved quickly to her, and
held her.
" Hush, girl, no use cryin'," she said. "Ain't no use in cryin' now."
But she let Queen cry, and then dried her eyes, and told her it was only
proper that Davis should know. It was his baby. She did not understand why
Queen was so reluctant. It was unlikely that Davis would hit her, and it
was right that he share the burden. Maybe, if they were lucky, Davis would
do what he should; certainly he would if Joyce had anything to do with it.
Queen could not explain to Joyce that she was sure Davis would not marry
her, because she was scared to admit it to herself. In the end she agreed
to tell him, but only if Joyce went with her.
Davis stared at her, and those eyes that she loved so seemed full of
reproach. In this she was right, but he was not angry with her. Only with
himself.
Joyce was impatient. "She say it's your'n, and she ain't a
QUEEN 659
liar, so what you gwine do about it," she demanded.
Davis said nothing, and Queen could not bear his silence.
"I's sorry," she said, and to her relief and amazement, Davis smiled.
"Guess I's gwine have to marry you," he said. Queen closed her eyes, and
told her heart to be still, but it would not. When she opened her eyes
again, he was still there, and still smiling. She got up, to fly into his
arms, but Joyce had a few things to say first.
"Not so fast, missy," Joyce commanded, and Queen stayed where she was.
Joyce turned her attention to Davis.
"She weren't gwine tell you, coz she didn't want to force you to marry
her," Joyce told him, to Queen's surprise. She had not told Joyce this,
Joyce had guessed.
"But she don't want you if yo' jus' marryin' her coz you must," Joyce
continued. "She don't want you if'n you don't love her." Queen hadn't told
Joyce this either, but it was close to the truth.
The smile had faded from Davis's lips. He listened to what Joyce had to
say, and then turned and looked out of the window at the moonlight on the
river. He could not lie; he could only tell them the truth. He adored
Queen; he respected her and admired her. He thought she was the dearest
thing he had ever met, filled up with love, and she deserved a fine man,
and boundless happiness. By rights, that man should be him. The child was
his, and Queen loved him. He would fulfill his duty, and marry her, if that
was what she wanted, for he couldn't bear to think of her raising his child
in this dark world on her own. But if loving her was the test, then he
failed, and he could only be honest.
"I don't know if I loves you," he said. "I don't think I know what love
is."
He saw the sadness wash into Queen's eyes, and guilt attacked his
conscience. He could not do this to her.
"But if'n I's gonna find out from anyone, I reckon it's you," he said. "And