a long time before I could believe that she had taken my dress-not my underclothes,she never wore any-but my dress,starched,ironed,clean that morning.She had left me hers,and I put it on at last and walked home in the blazing sun feeling sick,hating her.I planned to get round the back of the house to the kitchen,but passing the stables I stopped to stare a three strange horses and my mother saw me and called.She was on the glacis with two young ladies and a gentleman.Visitors! I dragged up the steps unwillingly-I had longed for visitors once,but that was years ago. They were very beautiful I though and they wore such beautiful clothes that I looked away down at the flagstones and when they laughed-the gentleman laughed the loudest-I ran into the house,into my bedroom.There I stood with my back against the door and I could feel my heart all through me.I heard them talking and I heard them leave.I came out of my room and my mother was sitting on the blue sofa.She looked at me for some time before she said that I had behaved very oddly.My dress was even dirtier than usual. It's Tia's dress.' But why are you wearing Tia's dress?Tia?Which one of them is Tia?' Christophine,who had been in the pantry listening,came at once and was told to find a clean dress for me."Throw away that thing.Burn it.' Then they quarrelled. Christophine said I had no clean dress.She got two dresses,wash and wear.You want clean dress to drop from heaven?Some people crazy in truth.' She must have another dress,'said my mother.Somewhere.'But Christophine told her loudly that it shameful.She run wild,she grow up worthless.And nobody care. My mother walked over to the window.(Marooned,'said her straight narrow back,her carefully coiled hair.'Marooned.') She has an old muslin dress.Find that.' While Christophine scrubbed my face and tied my plaits with a fresh piece of string,she told me that those were the new people at Nelson's Rest.They called themselves Luttrell,but English or not English they were not like old Mr Luttrell.Old Mr Luttrell spit in their face if he see how they look at you.Trouble walk into the house this day.Trouble walk in.' The old muslin dress was found and it tore as I forced it on.She didn't notice. No more slavery!She had to laugh!'These new ones have Letter of the Law.Same thing. They got magistrate.They got fine.They got jail house and chain gang.They got tread machine to mash up people's feet.New ones worse that old ones-more cunning,that's all.' All that evening my mother didn't speak to me or look at me and I thought,'She is ashamed of me,what Tia said is true. I went to bed early and slept at once.I dreamed that I was walking in the forest.Not alone. Someone who hated me was with me,out of sight.I could hear heavy footsteps coming closer and though I struggled and screamed I could not move.I woke crying.The covering sheet was on the floor and my mother was looking down at me. 第6页共88页
a long time before I could believe that she had taken my dress – not my underclothes, she never wore any – but my dress, starched, ironed, clean that morning. She had left me hers, and I put it on at last and walked home in the blazing sun feeling sick, hating her. I planned to get round the back of the house to the kitchen, but passing the stables I stopped to stare a three strange horses and my mother saw me and called. She was on the glacis with two young ladies and a gentleman. Visitors! I dragged up the steps unwillingly – I had longed for visitors once, but that was years ago. They were very beautiful I though and they wore such beautiful clothes that I looked away down at the flagstones and when they laughed – the gentleman laughed the loudest – I ran into the house, into my bedroom. There I stood with my back against the door and I could feel my heart all through me. I heard them talking and I heard them leave. I came out of my room and my mother was sitting on the blue sofa. She looked at me for some time before she said that I had behaved very oddly. My dress was even dirtier than usual. ‘It’s Tia’s dress.’ ‘But why are you wearing Tia’s dress? Tia? Which one of them is Tia?’ Christophine, who had been in the pantry listening, came at once and was told to find a clean dress for me. ‘Throw away that thing. Burn it.’ Then they quarrelled. Christophine said I had no clean dress. ‘She got two dresses, wash and wear. You want clean dress to drop from heaven? Some people crazy in truth.’ ‘She must have another dress,’ said my mother. ‘Somewhere.’ But Christophine told her loudly that it shameful. She run wild, she grow up worthless. And nobody care. My mother walked over to the window. (Marooned,’ said her straight narrow back, her carefully coiled hair. ‘Marooned.’) ‘She has an old muslin dress. Find that.’ While Christophine scrubbed my face and tied my plaits with a fresh piece of string, she told me that those were the new people at Nelson’s Rest. They called themselves Luttrell, but English or not English they were not like old Mr Luttrell. Old Mr Luttrell spit in their face if he see how they look at you. Trouble walk into the house this day. Trouble walk in.’ The old muslin dress was found and it tore as I forced it on. She didn’t notice. No more slavery! She had to laugh! ‘These new ones have Letter of the Law. Same thing. They got magistrate. They got fine. They got jail house and chain gang. They got tread machine to mash up people’s feet. New ones worse that old ones – more cunning, that’s all.’ All that evening my mother didn’t speak to me or look at me and I thought, ‘She is ashamed of me, what Tia said is true.’ I went to bed early and slept at once. I dreamed that I was walking in the forest. Not alone. Someone who hated me was with me, out of sight. I could hear heavy footsteps coming closer and though I struggled and screamed I could not move. I woke crying. The covering sheet was on the floor and my mother was looking down at me. 第6 页共88页
Did you have a nightmare?' Yes,a bad dream.' She sighed and covered me up.'You were making such a noise.I must go to Pierre,you've frightened him.' I lay thinking,'I am safe.There is the corner of the bedroom door and the friendly furniture.There is the tree of life in the garden and the wall green with moss.The barrier of the cliffs and the high mountains.And the barrier of the sea.I am safe.I am safe from strangers. The light of the candle in Pierre's room was still there when I slept again.I woke next morning knowing that nothing would be the same.I would change and go on changing. I don't know how she got money to buy the white muslin and the pink.Yards of muslin. She may have sold her last ring,for there was one left.I saw it in her jewel box-that,and a locket with a shamrock inside.They were mending and sewing first thing in the morning and still sewing when I went to bed.In a week she had a new dress and so had I. The Luttrells lent her a horse,and she would ride off very early and not come back till late next day-tired out because she had been to a dance or a moonlight picnic.She was gay and laughing-younger that I had ever seen her and the house was sad when she had gone. So I too left it and stayed away till dark.I was never long at the bathing pool,I never met Tia. I took another road,past the old sugar works and the water wheel that had not turned for years.I went to parts of Coulibri that I had not seen,where there was no road,no path,no track. And if the razor grass cut my legs and arms I would think'It's better than people.'Black ants or red ones,tall nests swarming with white ants,rain that soaked me to the skin-once I saw a snake. All better than people. Better.Better,better than people Watching the red and yellow flowers in the sun thinking of nothing,it was as if a door opened and I was somewhere else,something else.Not myself any longer. I knew the time of day when though it is hot and blue and there are no clouds,the sky can have a very black look. I was bridesmaid when my mother married Mr Mason in Spanish Town.Christophine curled my hair.I carried a bouquet and everything I wore was new-even my beautiful slippers.But their eyes slid away from my hating face.I had heard what all these smooth smiling people said about her when she was not listening and they did not guess I was.Hiding from them in the garden when they visited Coulibri,I listened. 'A fantastic marriage and he will regret it.Why should a very wealthy man who could take his pick of all the girls in the West Indies,and many in England too probably?'Why probably?' the other voice said.'Certainly.''Then why should he marry a widow without a penny to her name and Coulibri a wreck of a place?Emancipation troubles killed old Cosway?Nonsense-the estate 第7页共88页
‘Did you have a nightmare?’ ‘Yes, a bad dream.’ She sighed and covered me up. ‘You were making such a noise. I must go to Pierre, you’ve frightened him.’ I lay thinking, ‘I am safe. There is the corner of the bedroom door and the friendly furniture. There is the tree of life in the garden and the wall green with moss. The barrier of the cliffs and the high mountains. And the barrier of the sea. I am safe. I am safe from strangers.’ The light of the candle in Pierre’s room was still there when I slept again. I woke next morning knowing that nothing would be the same. I would change and go on changing. I don’t know how she got money to buy the white muslin and the pink. Yards of muslin. She may have sold her last ring, for there was one left. I saw it in her jewel box – that, and a locket with a shamrock inside. They were mending and sewing first thing in the morning and still sewing when I went to bed. In a week she had a new dress and so had I. The Luttrells lent her a horse, and she would ride off very early and not come back till late next day – tired out because she had been to a dance or a moonlight picnic. She was gay and laughing – younger that I had ever seen her and the house was sad when she had gone. So I too left it and stayed away till dark. I was never long at the bathing pool, I never met Tia. I took another road, past the old sugar works and the water wheel that had not turned for years. I went to parts of Coulibri that I had not seen, where there was no road, no path, no track. And if the razor grass cut my legs and arms I would think ‘It’s better than people.’ Black ants or red ones, tall nests swarming with white ants, rain that soaked me to the skin – once I saw a snake. All better than people. Better. Better, better than people. Watching the red and yellow flowers in the sun thinking of nothing, it was as if a door opened and I was somewhere else, something else. Not myself any longer. I knew the time of day when though it is hot and blue and there are no clouds, the sky can have a very black look. I was bridesmaid when my mother married Mr Mason in Spanish Town. Christophine curled my hair. I carried a bouquet and everything I wore was new – even my beautiful slippers. But their eyes slid away from my hating face. I had heard what all these smooth smiling people said about her when she was not listening and they did not guess I was. Hiding from them in the garden when they visited Coulibri, I listened. ‘A fantastic marriage and he will regret it. Why should a very wealthy man who could take his pick of all the girls in the West Indies, and many in England too probably?’ ‘Why probably?’ the other voice said. ‘Certainly.’ ‘Then why should he marry a widow without a penny to her name and Coulibri a wreck of a place? Emancipation troubles killed old Cosway? Nonsense – the estate 第7 页共88页
was going downhill for years before that.He drank himself to death.Many's the time when-well! And all those women!She never did anything to stop him-she encouraged him.Presents and smiles for the bastards every Christmas.Old customs?Some old customs are better dead and buried.Her new husband will have to spend a pretty penny before the house is fit to live in-leaks like a sieve.And what about the stables and the coach house dark as pitch,and the servants' quarters and the six-foot snake I saw with my own eyes curled up on the privy seat last time I was there.Alarmed?I screamed.Then that horrible old man she harbours came along,double up with laughter.As for those two children-the boy an idiot kept out of sight and mind and the girl going the same way in my opinion-a lowering expression.' 'Oh I agree,'the other one said,but Annette is such a pretty woman.And what a dancer. Reminds me of that song"light as cotton blossom on the something breeze",or is it air?I forget.' Yes,what a dancer-that night when they came home from their honeymoon in Trinidad and they danced on the glacis to no music.There was no need for music when his arm,down till her black hair touched the flagstones-still down,down.Then up again in a flash,laughing.She made it look so easy-as if anyone could do it,and he kissed her-a long kiss.I was there that time too but they had forgotten me and soon I wasn't thinking of them.I was remembering that woman saying Dance!He didn't come to the West Indies to dance-he came to make money as they all do. Some of the big estates are going cheap,and one unfortunate's loss is always a clever man's gain. No,the whole thing is a mystery.It's evidently useful to keep a Martinique obeah woman on the premises.'She meant Christophine.She said it mockingly,not meaning it,but soon other people were saying it-and meaning it. While the repairs were being done and they were in Trinidad,Pierre and I stayed with Aunt Cora in Spanish Town. Mr Mason did not approve of Aunt Cora,an ex-slave-owner who had escaped misery,a flier in the face of Providence. Why did she do nothing to help you?' I told him that her husband was English and didn't like us and he said,Nonsense.' 'It isn't nonsense,they lived in England and he was angry if she wrote to us.He hated the West Indies.When he died not long ago she came home,before that what could she do?She wasn't rich.' 'That's her story.I don't believe it.A frivolous woman.In your mother's place I'd resent her behaviour. 'None of you understand about us,'I thought. Coulibri looked the same when I saw it again,although it was clean and tidy,no grass between the flagstones,no leaks.But it didn't feel the same.Sass had come back and I was glad.They can smell money,somebody said.Mr Mason engaged new servants-I didn't like any of them excepting Mannie the groom.It was their talk about Christophine that changed Coulibri,not the 第8页共88页
was going downhill for years before that. He drank himself to death. Many’s the time when – well! And all those women! She never did anything to stop him – she encouraged him. Presents and smiles for the bastards every Christmas. Old customs? Some old customs are better dead and buried. Her new husband will have to spend a pretty penny before the house is fit to live in – leaks like a sieve. And what about the stables and the coach house dark as pitch, and the servants’ quarters and the six-foot snake I saw with my own eyes curled up on the privy seat last time I was there. Alarmed? I screamed. Then that horrible old man she harbours came along, double up with laughter. As for those two children – the boy an idiot kept out of sight and mind and the girl going the same way in my opinion – a lowering expression.’ ‘Oh I agree,’ the other one said, ‘but Annette is such a pretty woman. And what a dancer. Reminds me of that song “light as cotton blossom on the something breeze”, or is it air? I forget.’ Yes, what a dancer – that night when they came home from their honeymoon in Trinidad and they danced on the glacis to no music. There was no need for music when his arm, down till her black hair touched the flagstones – still down, down. Then up again in a flash, laughing. She made it look so easy – as if anyone could do it, and he kissed her – a long kiss. I was there that time too but they had forgotten me and soon I wasn’t thinking of them. I was remembering that woman saying ‘Dance! He didn’t come to the West Indies to dance – he came to make money as they all do. Some of the big estates are going cheap, and one unfortunate’s loss is always a clever man’s gain. No, the whole thing is a mystery. It’s evidently useful to keep a Martinique obeah woman on the premises.’ She meant Christophine. She said it mockingly, not meaning it, but soon other people were saying it – and meaning it. While the repairs were being done and they were in Trinidad, Pierre and I stayed with Aunt Cora in Spanish Town. Mr Mason did not approve of Aunt Cora, an ex-slave-owner who had escaped misery, a flier in the face of Providence. ‘Why did she do nothing to help you?’ I told him that her husband was English and didn’t like us and he said, ‘Nonsense.’ ‘It isn’t nonsense, they lived in England and he was angry if she wrote to us. He hated the West Indies. When he died not long ago she came home, before that what could she do? She wasn’t rich.’ ‘That’s her story. I don’t believe it. A frivolous woman. In your mother’s place I’d resent her behaviour.’ ‘None of you understand about us,’ I thought. Coulibri looked the same when I saw it again, although it was clean and tidy, no grass between the flagstones, no leaks. But it didn’t feel the same. Sass had come back and I was glad. They can smell money, somebody said. Mr Mason engaged new servants – I didn’t like any of them excepting Mannie the groom. It was their talk about Christophine that changed Coulibri, not the 第8 页共88页
repairs or the new furniture or the strange faces.Their talk about Christophine and obeah changed it. I knew her room so well-the pictures of the Holy Family and the prayer for a happy death. She had a bright patchwork counterpane,a broken-down press for her clothes,and my mother had given her an old rocking-chair Yet one day when I was waiting there I was suddenly very much afraid.The door was open to the sunlight,someone was whistling near the stables,but I was afraid.I was certain that hidden in the room (behind the old black press?)there was a dead man's dried hand,white chicken feathers,a cock with its throat cut,dying slowly,slowly.Drop by drop of blood was falling into a red basin and I imagined I could hear it.No one had ever spoken to me about obeah-but I knew what I would find if I dared to look.Then Christophine came in smiling and pleased to see me. Nothing alarming ever happened and I forgot,or told myself I had forgotten. Mr Mason would laugh if he knew how frightened I had been.He would laugh even louder than he did when my mother told him that she wished to leave Coulibri. This began when they had been married for over a year.They always said the same things and I seldom listened to the argument now.I knew that we were hated-but to go away...for once I agreed with my stepfather.That was not possible. 'You must have some reason,'he would say,and she would answer 'I need a change'or 'We could visit Richard'.(Richard,Mr Mason's son by his first marriage,was at school in Barbados.He was going to England soon and we had seen very little of him.) 'An agent should look after this place.For the time being.The people here hate us.They certainly hate me.'Straight out she said that one day and it was then he laughed so heartily. 'Annette,be reasonable.You were the widow of a slave-owner,the daughter of a slave- owner,and you had been living here alone,with two children,for nearly five tears when we met. Things were at their worst then.But you were never molested,never harmed.' 'How do you know that I was not harmed?'she said.'We were so poor then,'she told him, we were something to laugh at.But we are not poor now,'she said.'You are not a poor woman. Do you suppose that they don't know all about your estate in Trinidad?And the Antigua property? They talk about us without stopping.They invent stories about you,and lies about me.They try to find out what we eat every day. 'They are curious.It's natural enough.You have lived alone far too long,Annette.You imagine enmity which doesn't exist.Always one extreme or the other.Didn't you fly at me like a little wild cat when I said nigger.Not nigger,nor even negro.Black people I must say.' 'You don't like,or even recognize,the good in them,'she said,'and you won't believe in the other side.' They're too damn lazy to be dangerous,'said Mr Mason.I know that.' 'They are more alive than you are,lazy or not,and they can be dangerous and cruel for reasons you wouldn't understand.' No,I don't understand,'Mr Mason always said.'I don't understand at all.' 第9页共88页
repairs or the new furniture or the strange faces. Their talk about Christophine and obeah changed it. I knew her room so well – the pictures of the Holy Family and the prayer for a happy death. She had a bright patchwork counterpane, a broken-down press for her clothes, and my mother had given her an old rocking-chair. Yet one day when I was waiting there I was suddenly very much afraid. The door was open to the sunlight, someone was whistling near the stables, but I was afraid. I was certain that hidden in the room (behind the old black press?) there was a dead man’s dried hand, white chicken feathers, a cock with its throat cut, dying slowly, slowly. Drop by drop of blood was falling into a red basin and I imagined I could hear it. No one had ever spoken to me about obeah – but I knew what I would find if I dared to look. Then Christophine came in smiling and pleased to see me. Nothing alarming ever happened and I forgot, or told myself I had forgotten. Mr Mason would laugh if he knew how frightened I had been. He would laugh even louder than he did when my mother told him that she wished to leave Coulibri. This began when they had been married for over a year. They always said the same things and I seldom listened to the argument now. I knew that we were hated – but to go away … for once I agreed with my stepfather. That was not possible. ‘You must have some reason,’ he would say, and she would answer ‘I need a change’ or ‘We could visit Richard’. (Richard, Mr Mason’s son by his first marriage, was at school in Barbados. He was going to England soon and we had seen very little of him.) ‘An agent should look after this place. For the time being. The people here hate us. They certainly hate me.’ Straight out she said that one day and it was then he laughed so heartily. ‘Annette, be reasonable. You were the widow of a slave-owner, the daughter of a slaveowner, and you had been living here alone, with two children, for nearly five tears when we met. Things were at their worst then. But you were never molested, never harmed.’ ‘How do you know that I was not harmed?’ she said. ‘We were so poor then,’ she told him, ‘we were something to laugh at. But we are not poor now,’ she said. ‘You are not a poor woman. Do you suppose that they don’t know all about your estate in Trinidad? And the Antigua property? They talk about us without stopping. They invent stories about you, and lies about me. They try to find out what we eat every day.’ ‘They are curious. It’s natural enough. You have lived alone far too long, Annette. You imagine enmity which doesn’t exist. Always one extreme or the other. Didn’t you fly at me like a little wild cat when I said nigger. Not nigger, nor even negro. Black people I must say.’ ‘You don’t like, or even recognize, the good in them,’ she said, ‘and you won’t believe in the other side.’ ‘They’re too damn lazy to be dangerous,’ said Mr Mason. ‘I know that.’ ‘They are more alive than you are, lazy or not, and they can be dangerous and cruel for reasons you wouldn’t understand.’ ‘No, I don’t understand,’ Mr Mason always said. ‘I don’t understand at all.’ 第9 页共88页
But she'd speak about going away again.Persistently.Angrily. Mr Mason pulled up near the empty huts on our way home that evening.All gone to one of those dances,'he said.'Young and old.How deserted the place looks.' We'll hear the drums if there is a dance.'I hoped he'd ride on quickly but he stayed by the huts to watch the sun go down.the sky and the sea were on fire when we left Bertrand Bay at last. From a long way off I saw the shadow of our house high up on its stone foundations.There was a smell of ferns and river water and I felt safe again,as if I was one of the righteous.(Godfrey said that we were not righteous.One day when he was drunk he told me that we were all damned and no use praying.) They've chosen a very hot night for their dance,'Mr Mason said,and Aunt Cora came on to the glacis.'What dance?Where?' 'There is some festivity in the neighbourhood.The huts were abandoned.A wedding perhaps?' 'Not a wedding,'I said.There is never a wedding.'He frowned at me nut Aunt Cora smiled. When they had gone indoors I leaned my arms on the cool glacis railings and thought that I would never like him very much.I still called him Mr Mason'in my head.Goodnight white pappy,'I said one evening and he was not vexed,he laughed.In some ways it was better before he came though he'd rescued us from poverty and misery.Only just in time too.'The black people did not hate us quite so much when we were poor.We were white but we had not escaped and soon we would be dead for we had no money left.What was there to hate? Now it had started up again and worse than before,my mother knows but she can't make him believe it.I wish I could tell him that out here is not at all like English people think it is.I wish I could hear them talking and Aunt Cora's laugh.I was glad she was staying with us.And I could hear the bamboos shiver and creak though there was no wind.It had been hot and still and dry for days.The colours had gone from the sky,the light was blue and could not last long.The glacis was not a good place when night was coming,Christophine said.As I went indoors my mother was talking in an excited voice. 'Very well.As you refuse to consider it,I will go and take Pierre with me.You won't object to that,I hope?' 'You are perfectly right,Annette,'said Aunt Cora and that did surprise me.She seldom spoke when they argued. Mr Mason also seemed surprised and not at all pleased. You talk so wildly,'he said.And you are so mistaken.Of course you can get away for a change if you wish it.I promise you.' 'You have promised that before,'she said.'You don't keep your promises.' 第10页共88页
But she’d speak about going away again. Persistently. Angrily. Mr Mason pulled up near the empty huts on our way home that evening. ‘All gone to one of those dances,’ he said. ‘Young and old. How deserted the place looks.’ ‘We’ll hear the drums if there is a dance.’ I hoped he’d ride on quickly but he stayed by the huts to watch the sun go down, the sky and the sea were on fire when we left Bertrand Bay at last. From a long way off I saw the shadow of our house high up on its stone foundations. There was a smell of ferns and river water and I felt safe again, as if I was one of the righteous. (Godfrey said that we were not righteous. One day when he was drunk he told me that we were all damned and no use praying.) ‘They’ve chosen a very hot night for their dance,’ Mr Mason said, and Aunt Cora came on to the glacis. ‘What dance? Where?’ ‘There is some festivity in the neighbourhood. The huts were abandoned. A wedding perhaps?’ ‘Not a wedding,’ I said. ‘There is never a wedding.’ He frowned at me nut Aunt Cora smiled. When they had gone indoors I leaned my arms on the cool glacis railings and thought that I would never like him very much. I still called him ‘Mr Mason’ in my head. ‘Goodnight white pappy,’ I said one evening and he was not vexed, he laughed. In some ways it was better before he came though he’d rescued us from poverty and misery. ‘Only just in time too.’ The black people did not hate us quite so much when we were poor. We were white but we had not escaped and soon we would be dead for we had no money left. What was there to hate? Now it had started up again and worse than before, my mother knows but she can’t make him believe it. I wish I could tell him that out here is not at all like English people think it is. I wish … I could hear them talking and Aunt Cora’s laugh. I was glad she was staying with us. And I could hear the bamboos shiver and creak though there was no wind. It had been hot and still and dry for days. The colours had gone from the sky, the light was blue and could not last long. The glacis was not a good place when night was coming, Christophine said. As I went indoors my mother was talking in an excited voice. ‘Very well. As you refuse to consider it, I will go and take Pierre with me. You won’t object to that, I hope?’ ‘You are perfectly right, Annette,’ said Aunt Cora and that did surprise me. She seldom spoke when they argued. Mr Mason also seemed surprised and not at all pleased. ‘You talk so wildly,’ he said. ‘And you are so mistaken. Of course you can get away for a change if you wish it. I promise you.’ ‘You have promised that before,’ she said. ‘You don’t keep your promises.’ 第10 页共88页