whom she was always close.
"Help me, please," she said again.
One man grabbed a branch, and held it up, threateningly.
"Get outa here, yalla bitch," he shouted.
Queen had no energy to scream. Any small hope that had been kindled in
her heart was extinguished. Not even blacks would assist her. She turned
to leave, and then turned back again, to ask them at least to tell her
in which direction to go, but as she did so, a light-skinned woman came
out of a leanto.
" Leave her be," she called to the men. She walked to the fire. "Come
here, girl," she said to Queen.
The woman, Pearl, had some authority over the two men she lived with, for
each wanted her, and neither was prepared to offend her. They moved back
a little, to allow Queen to walk to the fire.
Queen stared at Pearl, looking for some trace of sympathy, but the
woman's expression was'impassive. Still, she was a woman, and had averted
immediate danger. She might understand.
"Some white men chased me!" Suddenly the whole story came blurting out,
and Queen was close to tears. "I fell off my horse, and got hurt. They
wanted to-wanted-"
She couldn't finish. Pearl's unrelenting stare unnerved her. She looked
at the moon, raised her arms in supplication, and dropped them to her
side again. The men were hostile, and the woman would not help. It all
seemed useless.
Still Pearl did not speak, as if deliberating what she would do. Then she
glanced at the pot of possum stew, simmering over the campfire.
"Is yo' hungry?" she asked.
Jass was worried, and Lizzie, heavy with child, was angry. Queen had not
come home from the store; there was no sign of her, no word from her. The
children were hungry and Lizzie and Sally made them something to eat. Then
Jass came home from Florence, and Lizzie told him that Queen had run away.
Jass didn't believe it. After he had heard the full story from
570 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Lizzie, he rode down to the Henderson store, and they denied any
knowledge.of Queen's whereabouts. She had been to the store, and then had
ridden away in the company of a couple of the lads whose company she was
fond of. Jass didn't believe that, either. He knew of Queen's dislike of the
store and her fear of the men who frequented it, and she would not have gone
willingly away with any of them. He rode home looking for some sign of her,
but it was dark, and he found nothing.
Lizzie sided with the Hendersons. Surely Queen had run away, like so many
other slaves. And it was such a relief. All her married life there had been
a barrier between herself and Jass. It had hurt her desperately when he
went off to Easter at night, leaving Lizzie to pine for him. It had hurt
her more when Jass brought the brat child to live in the big house, to have
her nearer to him, and to flaunt his love for Easter in her face. Even
after Easter had died, the hurt remained. She wished no harm to Queen, she
hoped she wasn't hurt, but she had to believe that Queen was gone for good.
Because every time she looked at Queen, it reminded her of Easter, and re-
minded her that her husband had loved another woman more than her. A nigra.
She was angry with Queen for giving no indication of her intentions, and
Jass for worrying about her; she banged pots on the stove as she prepared
some food, and prayed that she would never have to see Queen again.
She went out to the veranda to tell Jass his meal was ready, and he nodded,
and said he'd be in directly.
"Are you going to sit here all night?" Lizzie asked him. Jass turned to
look at her, and Lizzie hated what she saw in his eyes.
"Well, it's on the table when you're ready," she snapped. "Don't blame me
if it gets cold."
She went into the house and called Sally to the table. They ate their meal
in silence. Sally, like Lizzie, was sure that Queen had run away, and it
hurt her that the child had not said good-bye, but she could hardly blame
her.
Jass stared at the moon, convinced that some mischief had befallen Queen,
but not knowing what to do, or how to begin to find her. In the silence
that surrounded him, he heard a sound that was not of the night. It was the
clinking of a horse's bridle.
QUEEN 571
Queen's horse came trotting up the drive to him. Jass went to the animal
and held it, felt it for injury, and then looked to the stars.
He took the horse to the stable to give it feed.
Queen ate her fill of the simple stew, and sat staring at the campfire.
The black men were still hostile to her. "She ain't stayin'," one said,
and Pearl turned on him.
"She a po' nigger, like us, an' she tired an' scared," she said. "We look
after her, like we would any nigger."
The men lapsed into aggressive silence, and Pearl put her arm around
Queen.
"Is yo' tired?" she asked, and Queen nodded, suddenly desperately,
achingly tired.
Pearl fetched a blanket from a lean-to, and wrapped it around Queen. "Lie
down here by the fire," she ordered, and Queen did as she was bidden.
"Keep yo' warm," Pearl said, 11 give yo' light to see. Yo' is safe now.
Yo' with yo' own nigger folk now."
Queen tightened the blanket around her, and stared at the flames of the
fire.
"She ain't stayin'," she heard one of the men say. "Fust light, she
leavin'."
Pearl ignored him, and started to sing a soft lullaby. The flames of the
fire danced in Queen's eyes. She wasn't wanted here, and would not stay.
This was not- her place. These were not her people.
But neither was The Forks of Cypress. She did not fit into this world or
that. She stared at the flames, and in her mind they became threatening.
She thought she could see the buming brands of her pursuers, and those
flames would haunt her for the rest of her life.
There was only the night. And the fire. And the soft, sweet lullaby.
66
lass was up at first light. He took some bread and cheese from the kitchen,
saddled a horse, and went looking for Queen. He intended to ask at every
house in the district, search every barn if need be, but his first call was
to the Hendersons. They had not told him all they knew, he was sure. As he
rode, he contemplated offering a small reward for information as to her
whereabouts, but wondered if that was fair to her. If she had run away,
which he did not for one moment believe, then perhaps she would not want to
be found.
He cursed himself for a blind, selfish fool. Lizzie had been angry with him
all the previous evening, had hardly spoken to him until they went to bed,
and when he tried to caress her, she turned away from him. He'd provoked
her to tell him what was wrong, and then all of her frustrations came
tumbling out. Jass was astonished, and bitterly regretful. He had never re-
alized how deeply his relationship with Easter had hurt Lizzie, and how
much she
resented Queen's presence in the big house. He had thought that
Lizzie approved of Easter, because her presence reduced his sexual need for
his wife, who had not seemed to welcome their lovernaking. In that sense
he was right, but now he understood that it was not the physical side of
his relationship with Easter that infuriated Lizzie, it was the love.
"She made you smile, she made you laugh, she made you happy, in a way that
I never could," Lizzie had told him through her tears. And it was true.
" But you are my wife," he told Lizzie, "and I love you."
"More than you loved her?" Lizzie asked, and all he could say was that it
was different.
He should not have brought Queen into the big house; he should have known
that just looking at the child was a slap
572
QUEEN 573
in the face to Lizzie, for Queen was the embodiment of Easter.
"Easter was just a slave," Jass insisted. "A nigra-"
"Yes!" Lizzie cried. "And you loved her." And it was true.
"I couldn't ignore the child," he insisted again.
"But did you have to love her?" Lizzie cried again. And it was true.
He did love Queen, but not as he loved his children by Lizzie; they were
different, flesh of his formal union with his legal wife, his heirs, his
darlings. Queen was an enchantment, a toy, a plaything, a little innocent
doll that he had created, who gave him pleasure.
"And what about my pleasure?" Lizzie asked him, quietly now, for her
crying was done. "Did you ever consider that?"
And it was true. He had not considered her. He had been a good husband
and provider, and he had done his duty by their marriage. But he had
never considered Lizzie's feelings, she who should have had tirst demand
on him.
"I'll make it up to you somehow, Lizzie, I swear," he promised her,
caressing her swollen stomach.
"But you will not forget Queen," she said. And it was true.
He would tind her and he would bring her home, if she wanted to come
home, and he had no idea what arrangements he would make for their future
so that all could be happy, but although he would respect Lizzie's
feelings and be more attentive to her, he would not dismiss Queen.
Queen woke at dawn, bitten by mosquitoes and stiff and sore. The men would
not speak to her, but Pearl made her something to eat, and told her how
to get back to The Forks, but reluctantly.
"Ain't nuttin' to' yo' there," she said.
Queen shrugged, not knowing what to say. She walked north through the
woods, as Pearl had told her, and two hours later she broke through the
trees, and saw the familiar road home. Dirty and disheveled, burrs
sticking in her hair, she limped to The Forks, turned in at the gate, and
made her way up the drive. She walked to the back of the house and went
into the kitchen.
Lizzie was cooking. She heard the door open and saw
574 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Queen come in. Her heart sank. She had convinced herself that she had seen
the last of Queen, that the girl had run away, like the brat nigra she was,
and would never come back. Yet she was back, and Lizzie, after her argument
with Jass the previous night, could not imagine how she would cope.
"Where have you been?" she said, evenly.
Queen walked to a chair at the table and sat down. "I sorry, Missy," she
said. "I had some trouble."
"And are you aware of how much trouble you've caused here?" Lizzie asked
her.
Queen hardly expected words of comfort or solace from Lizzie, but she had
not expected anger.
"No thought for us, no word of warning," Lizzie said. "Just off and away,
like the no-account nigra you are. In the old days we'd have set the dogs
after you. Get yourself cleaned up and get to work."
Fireworks of anger were starting to explode in Queen's mind.
"I sorry, I-- she began, but Lizzie's temper broke before hers. "Your
Massa's been out since dawn looking for you, Miss Sally unable to sleep,
and me in my condition-"
Queen could not stand it anymore. They'd treat an old dog better than they
treated her. She rose to her feet in fury.
" He not my Massa, " she said. " He my pappy!
Lizzie slapped her face hard.
"How dare you say that! How dare you speak to me like that! "
But Queen dared. She would dare anything now, for she had nothing to lose.
"An' how dare you," she cried. "I ain't some animal for you to push around,
Queen do this, Queen do that, cook, wash, clean, garden, plant cotton, pick
cotton, morning till night, and never a word of thanks! You don't even
notice I exist until you want something done! Well, I do exist, Missus, and
I've got a fight to a little bit of happiness. An' if I cain't find it
here, I'll find it somewhere else."
The events of the previous night were the crack in the dam of her
frustration, and now it burst, and her loneliness came flooding out. She
did not belong in this white world, could not function in this white world,
would never be accepted by
QUEEN 575
this white family for what she was, which was one of them. For she was not
one of them. She was some curious addendum to their lives, without place or
purpose, other than as willing slave, and she didn't want to be a slave
anymore.
She didn't want to be a slave to anyone, she didn't want to be a slave to
this family, and most of all, she didn't want to be a slave to her love for
her father, for it would never be returned in a way that would have any
value to her. Simple recognition of her existence was hardly an adequate
substitute for love. For the first time in her life Queen realized that her
heart was empty, and that she wanted it to be full.
Lizzie was shocked by her impudence. "How dare you," she said. "After all
we've done for you."
"You ain't ever done nothing for me," Queen responded as she walked out of
the room. "An' you won't ever have to now.
She didn't run, because there was nothing to run to or from. She walked
slowly up the stairs, repeating in her mind what she had said to Lizzie,
elaborating on it, embroidering it, until it became a litany of the woes of
her life. She went to her room, washed herself clean, and brushed her hair.
As she looked in her little mirror, she repeated her speech to Lizzie
again, and it was longer still. She remembered every tiny hurt, every
unkind word, every flick of the switch to her behind. She finished on a
triumphant note, demolishing the phantom Lizzie, and, anger spent, she
giggled. She wondered what Lizzie's face looked like when she'd left the
kitchen.
She changed into her Sunday best, and packed a little suitcase with her few
belongings. She gave no thought to her destination or to her purse, which
was almost empty, for her obsession was to leave. She did think of saying
good-bye to Sally, but decided against it. As kind as the old Missy was,
&nb
sp; she was the one who had first told her to go.
But she did have to say good-bye to someone. She put on her bonnet, picked
up her suitcase, and took a last look at her tiny, sparsely furnished room.
She went downstairs, hoping she wouldn't run into any of the family, left
the house by the front door, and made her way to the slave graveyard to say
good-bye to her mammy.
"I got to go, Mammy," she told Easter. "Ain't no place for me here."
576 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
The grave was untidy and overgrown. Queen hadn't had time to tend it, and
the weeds were flourishing in the warm, spring sun. Queen knelt and pulled
at the weeds.
"Pappy don't know yet," she said. "I don't want to see .him. I'm going
afore he gets back."
It wasn't completely true. Part of her didn't want to face Jass, but
perhaps part of her hoped that if she did see him he would say what she had
always longed for him to say, and make everything all right again. In her
heart she knew it probably wouldn't happen, but she could not dismiss the
hope. And having made the decision to go, she was terrified of the con-
sequences of that decision, for some sense of reality had dawned on her.
She had no idea where she would sleep that night, or how she would eat. She
felt utterly friendless, utterly alone, and it comforted her to sit beside
the only friend she had ever had.
Sally came to her. Lizzie had told her of the argument, and of Queen's
extraordinary outburst of anger and intention to leave, and Sally had
worried about the girl. She would not try to persuade Queen to stay, but she
could not let her go without some knowledge of her future welfare. She had
seen Queen walking to the graveyard, and had followed her. She stood in the
trees watching the tender farewell from daughter to mother and then moved
forward, to say her own good-bye.
"Weren't you going to come to say good-bye to me?" she asked Queen, gently.
Queen was embarrassed, and got to her feet.
-I*m so sorry, my dear," Sally said. "I didn't want it to end like this,
but I thought it must."
Queen turned away, feeling some small spark of the anger she had felt when
Sally first suggested that she go. Why? Why did it have to end like this?
Because she was nigra and they weren't? She only had a little bit of nigra
blood in her. Why did that make her black?
Sally might have guessed her thoughts, or perhaps she felt the need to
explain why Queen's position was untenable. Not just for here, but for her
future, for the girl was impulsive, and had good reason for complaint. She
looked white. She was so very nearly white.
QUEEN 577
"Wherever you go, Queen," she said, "you must remember that it isn't enough
to be nearly white, as you are. Even one drop of black blood makes you
nigra."
Queen did not understand Sally's purpose, and said nothing. If she was
nigra, why had the blacks in the forest rejected her, as the field hands
did? Only Pearl had been kind to her, but Pearl, although darker than
Queen, was not black.
Sally held out a small purse of money. "I don't want it," Queen said.
"You always were a stubborn girl!" Sally tried to laugh. "Take it. We owe
you this much, at least."
Queen saw the truth of it, and took the purse. She had, in all fairness,
earned at least this.
"I don't suppose I'll ever see you again, Sally said. "Good luck, my dear."
It was then that Queen realized an extraordinary thing. Miss Sally did love
her, in her way, after a fashion. Why else would she be crying? All of her
anger evaporated, and was replaced by an enormous sense of loss. She hugged
Sally to her.
"Oh, Missus," she said.
They walked down the hill together, Sally using Queen's arm for support,
and when they got to the house Sally wished her luck again, and said
good-bye again, and hugged her again, and then went inside.
Queen took a last look at the house, and then set off down the drive. She
didn't look back, even when she turned out of the gate, but paused for a
moment, wondering where to go. It was not a difficult decision. South would