XVI
Nothing but Love
‚ÄúA year ago tonight was de storm what blowed ma porch away! You ‚Äômembers, honey?‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Done seem like this year took more‚Äôn ma porch, too. My baby chile‚Äôs left home an‚Äô gone to stay down yonder in de Bottoms with them triflin‚Äô Smothers family, where de piano‚Äôs goin‚Äô night an‚Äô day. An‚Äô yo‚Äô mammy‚Äôs done gone a-trapesin‚Äô after Jimboy.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Well, I thanks de Lawd you ain‚Äôt gone too. You‚Äôs mighty little an‚Äô knee-high to a duck, but you‚Äôs ma standby. You‚Äôs all I got, an‚Äô you ain‚Äôt gwine leave yo‚Äô old grandma, is you?‚Äù
Hager had turned to Sandy in these lonely days for comfort and companionship. Through the long summer evenings they sat together on the front porch and she told her grandchild stories. Sometimes Sister Johnson came over and sat with them for a while smoking. Sometimes Madam de Carter, full of chatter and big words about the lodge and the race, would be there. But more often the two were alone‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe black washwoman with the grey hair and the little brown boy. Slavery-time stories, myths, folktales like the Rabbit and the Tar Baby; the war, Abe Lincoln, freedom; visions of the Lord; years of faith and labor, love and struggle filled Aunt Hager‚Äôs talk of a summer night, while the lightning-bugs glowed and glimmered and the katydids chirruped, and the stars sparkled in the far-off heavens.
Sandy was getting to be too big a boy to sit in his grandmother’s lap and be rocked to sleep as in summers gone by; now he sat on a little stool beside her, leaning his head on her legs when he was tired. Or else he lay flat on the floor of the porch listening, and looking up at the stars. Tonight Hager talked about love.
‚ÄúThese young ones what‚Äôs comin‚Äô up now, they calls us ole fogies, an‚Äô handkerchief heads, an‚Äô white folks‚Äô niggers ‚Äôcause we don‚Äôt get mad an‚Äô rar‚Äô up in arms like they does ‚Äôcause things is kinder hard, but, honey, when you gets old, you knows they ain‚Äôt no sense in gettin‚Äô mad an‚Äô sourin‚Äô yo‚Äô soul with hatin‚Äô peoples. White folks is white folks, an‚Äô colored folks is colored, an‚Äô neither one of ‚Äôem is bad as t‚Äôother make out. For mighty nigh seventy years I been knowin‚Äô both of ‚Äôem, an‚Äô I ain‚Äôt never had no room in ma heart to hate neither white nor colored. When you starts hatin‚Äô people, you gets uglier than they is‚ÅÝ‚Äîan‚Äô I ain‚Äôt never had no time for ugliness, ‚Äôcause that‚Äôs where de devil comes in‚ÅÝ‚Äîin ugliness!
“They talks ’bout slavery time an’ they makes out now like it were de most awfullest time what ever was, but don’t you believe it, chile, ’cause it weren’t all that bad. Some o’ de white folks was just as nice to their niggers as they could be, nicer than many of ’em is now, what makes ’em work for less than they needs to eat. An’ in those days they had to feed ’em. An’ they ain’t every white man beat his slaves neither! Course I ain’t sayin’ ’twas no paradise, but I ain’t going to say it were no hell either. An’ maybe I’s kinder seein’ it on de bestest side ’cause I worked in de big house an’ ain’t never went to de fields like most o’ de niggers did. Ma mammy were de big-house cook an’ I grewed up right with her in de kitchen an’ played with little Miss Jeanne. An’ Miss Jeanne taught me to read what little I knowed. An’ when she growed up an’ I growed up, she kept me with her like her friend all de time. I loved her an’ she loved me. Miss Jeanne were de mistress’ daughter, but warn’t no difference ’tween us ’ceptin’ she called me Hager an’ I called her Miss Jeanne. But what difference do one word like ‘Miss’ make in yo’ heart? None, chile, none. De words don’t make no difference if de love’s there.
‚ÄúI disremembers what year it were de war broke out, but white folks was scared, an‚Äô niggers, too. Didn‚Äôt know what might happen. An‚Äô we heard talk o‚Äô Abraham Lincoln ‚Äôway down yonder in de South. An‚Äô de ole marster, ole man Winfield, took his gun an‚Äô went to war, an‚Äô de young son, too, an‚Äô de superintender and de overseer‚ÅÝ‚Äîall of ‚Äôem gone to follow Lee. Ain‚Äôt left nothin‚Äô but womens an‚Äô niggers on de plantation. De womens was a-cryin‚Äô an‚Äô de niggers was, too, ‚Äôcause they was sorry for de po‚Äô grievin‚Äô white folks.
‚ÄúIs I ever told you how Miss Jeanne an‚Äô Marster Robert was married in de springtime o‚Äô de war, with de magnolias all a-bloomin‚Äô like candles for they weddin‚Äô? Is I ever told you, Sandy?‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Well, I must some time. An‚Äô then Marster Robert had to go right off with his mens, ‚Äôcause he‚Äôs a high officer in de army an‚Äô they heard Sherman were comin‚Äô. An‚Äô he left her a-standin‚Äô with her weddin‚Äô-clothes on, leanin‚Äô ‚Äôgainst a pillar o‚Äô de big white porch, with nobody but me to dry her eyes‚ÅÝ‚Äîole Missis done dead an‚Äô de menfolks all gone to war. An‚Äô nobody in that big whole mansion but black ole deaf Aunt Granny Jones, what kept de house straight, an‚Äô me, what was stayin‚Äô with ma mistress.
“O, de white folks needed niggers then mo’n they ever did befo’, an’ they ain’t a colored person what didn’t stick by ’em when all they menfolks were gone an’ de white womens was a-cryin’ an’ a-faintin’ like they did in them days.
‚ÄúBut lemme tell you ‚Äôbout Miss Jeanne. She just set in her room an‚Äô cry. A-holdin‚Äô Marster Bob‚Äôs pitcher, she set an‚Äô cry, an‚Äô she ain‚Äôt come out o‚Äô her room to see ‚Äôbout nothin‚Äô‚ÅÝ‚Äîhouse, horses, cotton‚ÅÝ‚Äînothin‚Äô. But de niggers, they ain‚Äôt cheat her nor steal from her. An‚Äô come de news dat her brother done got wounded an‚Äô died in Virginia, an‚Äô her cousins got de yaller fever. Then come de news that Marster Robert, Miss Jeanne‚Äôs husband, ain‚Äôt no mo‚Äô! Killed in de battle! An‚Äô I thought Miss Jeanne would like to go crazy. De news say he died like a soldier, brave an‚Äô fightin‚Äô. But when she heard it, she went to de drawer an‚Äô got out her weddin‚Äô-veil an‚Äô took her flowers in her hands like she were goin‚Äô to de altar to meet de groom. Then she just sink in de flo‚Äô an‚Äô cry till I pick her up an‚Äô hold her like a chile.
‚ÄúWell, de freedom come, an‚Äô all de niggers scatter like buckshot, goin‚Äô to live in town. An‚Äô de yard niggers say I‚Äôs a ole fool! I‚Äôs free now‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhy don‚Äôt I come with them? But I say no, I‚Äôs gwine stay with Miss Jeanne‚ÅÝ‚Äîan‚Äô I stayed. I ‚Äôlowed ain‚Äôt nary one o‚Äô them colored folks needed me like Miss Jeanne did, so I ain‚Äôt went with ‚Äôem.
“An’ de time pass; it pass an’ it pass, an’ de ole house get rusty for lack o’ paint, an’ de things, they ’gin to fall to pieces. An’ Miss Jeanne say: ‘Hager, I ain’t got nobody in de world but you.’ An’ I say: ‘Miss Jeanne, I ain’t got nobody in de world but you neither.’
“And then she’d start talkin’ ’bout her young husband what died so handsome an’ brave, what ain’t even had time that last day fo’ to ’scort her to de church for de weddin’, nor to hold her in his arms ’fore de orders come to leave. An’ we would set on de big high ole porch, with its tall stone pillars, in de evenin’s twilight till de bats start flyin’ overhead an’ de sunset glow done gone, she in her wide white skirts a-billowin’ round her slender waist, an’ me in ma apron an’ cap an’ this here chain she gimme you see on ma neck all de time an’ what’s done wore so thin.
“They was a ole stump of a blasted tree in de yard front o’ de porch ’bout tall as a man, with two black pieces o’ branches raised up like arms in de air. We used to set an’ look at it, an’ Miss Jeanne could see it from her bedroom winder upstairs, an’ sometimes this stump, it look like it were movin’ right up de path like a man.
‚ÄúAfter she done gone to bed, late one springtime night when de moon were shinin‚Äô, I hear Miss Jeanne a-cryin‚Äô: ‚ÄòHe‚Äôs come!‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ Hager, ma Robert‚Äôs come back to me!‚Äô An‚Äô I jumped out o‚Äô ma bed in de next room where I were sleepin‚Äô an‚Äô run in to her, an‚Äô there she was in her long, white nightclothes standin‚Äô out in de moonlight on de little balcony, high up in de middle o‚Äô that big stone porch. She was lookin‚Äô down into de yard at this stump of a tree a-holdin‚Äô up its arms. An‚Äô she thinks it‚Äôs Marster Robert a-callin‚Äô her. She thinks he‚Äôs standin‚Äô there in his uniform, come back from de war, a-callin‚Äô her. An‚Äô she say: ‚ÄòI‚Äôm comin‚Äô, Bob, dear;‚Äô‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ An‚Äô ‚Äôfore I think what she‚Äôs doin‚Äô, Miss Jeanne done stepped over de little rail o‚Äô de balcony like she were walkin‚Äô on moonlight. An‚Äô she say: ‚ÄòI‚Äôm comin‚Äô, Bob!‚Äô
“She ain’t left no will, so de house an’ all went to de State, an’ I been left with nothin’. But I ain’t care ’bout that. I followed her to de grave, an’ I been with her all de time, ’cause she’s ma friend. An’ I were sorry for her, ’cause I knowed that love were painin’ her soul, an’ warn’t nobody left to help her but me.
‚ÄúAn‚Äô since then I‚Äôs met many a white lady an‚Äô many a white gentleman, an‚Äô some of ‚Äôem‚Äôs been kind to me an‚Äô some of ‚Äôem ain‚Äôt; some of ‚Äôem‚Äôs cussed me an‚Äô wouldn‚Äôt pay me fo‚Äô ma work; an‚Äô some of ‚Äôem‚Äôs hurted me awful. But I‚Äôs been sorry fo‚Äô white folks, fo‚Äô I knows something inside must be aggravatin‚Äô de po‚Äô souls. An‚Äô I‚Äôs kept a room in ma heart fo‚Äô ‚Äôem, ‚Äôcause white folks needs us, honey, even if they don‚Äôt know it. They‚Äôs like spoilt chillens what‚Äôs got too much o‚Äô ever‚Äôthing‚ÅÝ‚Äîan‚Äô they needs us niggers, what ain‚Äôt got nothin‚Äô.
‚ÄúI‚Äôs been livin‚Äô a long time in yesterday, Sandy chile, an‚Äô I knows there ain‚Äôt no room in de world fo‚Äô nothin‚Äô mo‚Äôn love. I knows, chile! Ever‚Äôthing there is but lovin‚Äô leaves a rust on yo‚Äô soul. An‚Äô to love sho ‚Äônough, you got to have a spot in yo‚Äô heart fo‚Äô ever‚Äôbody‚ÅÝ‚Äîgreat an‚Äô small, white an‚Äô black, an‚Äô them what‚Äôs good an‚Äô them what‚Äôs evil‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äôcause love ain‚Äôt got no crowded-out places where de good ones stays an‚Äô de bad ones can‚Äôt come in. When it gets that way, then it ain‚Äôt love.
‚ÄúWhite peoples maybe mistreats you an‚Äô hates you, but when you hates ‚Äôem back, you‚Äôs de one what‚Äôs hurted, ‚Äôcause hate makes yo‚Äô heart ugly‚ÅÝ‚Äîthat‚Äôs all it does. It closes up de sweet door to life an‚Äô makes ever‚Äôthing small an‚Äô mean an‚Äô dirty. Honey, there ain‚Äôt no room in de world fo‚Äô hate, white folks hatin‚Äô niggers, an‚Äô niggers hatin‚Äô white folks. There ain‚Äôt no room in this world fo‚Äô nothin‚Äô but love, Sandy chile. That‚Äôs all they‚Äôs room fo‚Äô‚ÅÝ‚Äînothin‚Äô but love.‚Äù