Read Online Sapphire's Grave by Hilda Gurley Highgate - Free Book Online Page B

the laundry from her mother’s employers; saw that it was delivered clean, crisp, and on time. She fed Prince Junior and the chickens; kept the yard swept and tidy. She even kept visitors away, engaging in pleasant conversation the occasional stoppers-by, keeping them tactfully outdoors with an apologetic smile and an explanation: Sister was feeling poorly. Yes, she was sure Sister would be fine. Jes needed a lil’ res’, dass all. At night, she hummed pleasantly as she combed her mother’s hair before the dying embers in their darkened hut. She had learned the comforting effect of near-silence and touch; the soothing power of near-darkness—a reprieve from the stark clarity and ugliness that filled her mother’s days. She understood Sister’s need to be alone—almost, but not quite, alone—and to appreciate her own solace. And Lilly developed a special sensitivity to the pain of others. Pain reached out to Lilly. It spoke to her in a language understood by the truly discerning; and it brought forth the kindness of the sainted Black Woman. Mother sister burden-bearer. Counselor comforter. It evoked the quiet efficiency of a midwife; the strength and patience of a woman waiting for deliverance—not her own, but that of her mother, her father, brother, and sister human beings struggling for their own lives.
    She learned to control, gently, with the unassuming wisdom of one who knew what was best for others. Friends grew to rely on her. Young men saw in her a fine, Christian wife, a capable mother; and Lilly began to appreciate her own value, to understand her role. Somebody had to have some sense around here. Somebody had to hold things together.
    Somebody had to be strong.

chapter 5
    INEZ, NORTH CAROLINA
    DECEMBER, 1880
    Christmas Eve. Parties erupted along the roads of Henderson and Warrenton, dotted the countryside in Nash and Vance counties, bringing a liveliness and cheer seldom seen among the colored of eastern North Carolina. Barrooms and billiard halls had lately been packed with merry-makers throughout the night and well into the mornings. The Feels Good Inn rocked. Queen Marie felt the jarring rhythm of the live band, and on her night off, she danced a jig naked before the one small window of her room above the bar. “Come on, Prince,” she cooed. “Pleeease”—turning toward him to wiggle her shoulders, her arms extended gracefully—“let’s go out dan-sing,” she sang, and began to chant, “A-ring-a-ring-a-ring-a-ring-a-ring-a-dem bells, a-ring-a-ring-a-ring-a-ring—”
    “Queen Marie,” Prince laughed, accepting her embrace. “You know you is a fool. But I got to go. Let go, now! I got to go.”
    “Go where,” Queen Marie whined. She sat pouting on the bed, crossing her thin bare legs at the ankles. “Not to go progin’ ’roun’
her
house.” She paused, and when he did not deny this: “Priiince! You said you wouldn’t go dere no more. You said yo’ chirren didn’t wanna see you nohow—”
    Prince winced. “I said my
boy
didn’t wanna see me.” Queen Marie could see the pain of rejection on his face. It hurt her to see him hurt, and she was sorry that she had raised the issue of Prince’s children. But he recovered quickly. The rift between Prince and his son was an old one, and he had resolved to leave it unmended. Prince Junior was just as well off, Prince knew, without him.
    The girl, Lilly, was another matter. The holiday season always meant increased guilt for Prince. Lilly looked forward to his occasional visits. She wanted to spend time with him—like family, she had said, staring meaningfully into his eyes and grasping his hand. He had marveled at this cunning child as beautiful and manipulative as his mistress, yet, at times, as benign and full of gentle grace as her mother had once been.
    Sister barely tolerated Prince during these visits. Prince Junior was always conveniently absent, without explanation or apology. But Lilly freely forgave Prince his desertion,