God's Little Acre Page 15

  “Yes,” Rosamond said simply.

  Will turned and looked at Griselda and the others.

  “So we’re going ahead and do it anyway. To hell with the damn local. They draw pay for arguing with us. To hell with them. We’re going to turn the power on.”

  “Yes,” Rosamond said.

  “I’ll be damned if I sit still and see them starve us with a dollar-ten, and charging rent on what we live in. There are enough of us to get in there and turn the power on. We can run the damn mill. We can run it better than anybody else. We’re going down there in the morning and turn it on.”

  “Yes, Will,” his wife said.

  A light was switched on in one of the rooms of the yellow company house next door.

  “We’re going to turn the power on, and I’m man enough to do it. You’ll see. I’m as strong as God Almighty Himself is now. You’ll hear about the power being turned on tomorrow. Everybody will hear about it.”

  He sat down in silence and buried his head in his hands. No one spoke. He was the one to speak, if anyone did.

  A darkness enveloped everything. For a while the whole memory of his life passed across his eyes. He squeezed the lids over the eyeballs, straining to forget the memory. But he could not forget. He could see, dimly at first, the mills in the Valley. And while he looked, everything was as bright as day. He could see, since the time he could first remember, the faces of the wild-eyed girls like morning-glories in the mill windows. They stood there looking out at him, their bodies firm and their breasts erect, year after year since he could first remember being alive. And out in the streets in front of the mills stood bloody-lipped men, his friends and brothers, spitting their lungs into the yellow-dust of Carolina. Up and down the Valley he could see them, count them, call them by their names. He knew them; he had always known them. The men stood in the streets watching the ivy-covered mills. Some of them were running night and day, under blinding blue lights; some of them were closed, barred against the people who starved in the yellow company houses. And then the whole Valley was filled with the people who suddenly sprang up. There again were the girls with eyes like morning-glories and breasts so erect, running into the ivy-covered mills; and out in the street, day and night, stood his friends and brothers, looking, and spitting their lungs into the yellow dust at their feet. Somebody turned to speak to him, and through his parted lips issued blood instead of words.

  Will shook his head, hitting the sides of it with the heel of his hands, and looked around him in the room. Pluto and Darling Jill, Griselda and Rosamond, were looking at him. He drew the back of his hand over his mouth, ‘wiping away the dried blood and the warm blood he thought he felt on his lips.

  “I told you to stay till I got back, didn’t I?” he said, looking steadily at Griselda.

  “Yes, Will.”

  “And you stayed. Thank God for that.”

  She nodded.

  “We’re going to turn the power on the first thing in the morning. That’s settled. We’re going to do that, no matter what happens.”

  Rosamond looked at him anxiously. She believed for a moment that he was out of his mind. It was something in the way he spoke, something that sounded strange in his voice; she had never heard him talk like that before.

  “Are you all right, Will?” she asked.

  “Oh, God, yes,” he said.

  “Try not to think so much about the mill tonight. It will make you so restless you won’t be able to go to sleep.”

  Murmurs passed through the company streets of the company town, coming in rhythmic tread through the windows of the company house. It was alive, stirring, moving, and speaking like a real person. Griselda felt her heart ache with sharp pain.

  “You’ve never worked in a spinning mill, have you, Pluto?” he asked suddenly, turning upon Pluto.

  “No,” he answered weakly. “I’ve got to be getting back home right away.”

  “You don’t know what a company town is like, then. But I’ll tell you. Have you ever shot a rabbit, and gone and picked him up, and when you lifted him in your hand, felt his heart pounding like--like, God, I don’t know what! Have you?”

  Pluto stirred uneasily in his chair. He turned to look at Griselda beside him and saw a convulsive shiver envelop her.

  “I don’t know,” Pluto said.

  “God!” Will murmured hoarsely.

  They looked at him, trembling, all of them. Somehow, they had felt exactly what he had meant when he said that. They were frightened by the revelation.

  A new murmur passed through the company house, floating softly through row after row of other yellow company houses.

  “You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” he asked.

  Rosamond shook her head. She knew he was not.

  “No, I’m not drunk. I’ve never been as sober as I am now. You think I’m drunk because I talk like that. But I’m sober, as sober as a stick of wood.”

  Rosamond said something to him, something tenderly soft and understanding.

  “Back there in Georgia, out there in the middle of all those damn holes and piles of dirt, you think I’m nothing but a dead sapling sticking up in the ground. Well, maybe I am, over there. But over here in the Valley, I’m Will Thompson. You come over here and look at me in this yellow company house and think that I’m nothing but a piece of company property. And you’re wrong about that, too. I’m Will Thompson. I’m as strong as God Almighty Himself now, and I can show you how strong I am. Just wait till tomorrow morning and walk down the street there and stand in front of the mill. I’m going up to that door and rip it to pieces just like it was a window shade. You’ll see how strong I am. Maybe you’ll go back to those God damn pot holes in Marion and think a little different after tomorrow.”

  “You’d better go to bed now, Will, and get some sleep. You’ll have to get up early in the morning.”

  “Sleep! To hell with sleep! I’m not going to sleep now, or any time tonight. I’ll be as wide awake when the sun rises as I am now.”

  Pluto wished to be able to get up and leave, but he was afraid to say anything while Will was talking. He did not know what to do. He looked at Darling Jill and at Griselda, but neither of them seemed anxious to go home now. They sat enthralled before Will.

  Griselda sat before Will looking up at him as if he were a precious idol come to life. She felt like getting down on the floor in front of him and throwing her arms around his knees and begging for the laying of his hand on her head.

  He was looking at her when she found the courage to look up. He was looking at her as if he had never seen her before.

  “Stand up, Griselda,” he said calmly.

  She stood up immediately, rising eagerly at his command. She waited for anything he might tell her to do next.

  “I’ve waited a long time for you, Griselda, and now is the time.”

  Rosamond made no move to speak or to get up. She sat calmly in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, waiting to hear what he would say the next moment.

  “Ty Ty was right,” Will said.

  All of them wondered what Will meant. Ty Ty had said many things, so many things that it was impossible for them to know what Will had in mind.

  But Griselda knew. She knew precisely the words he had used and to which Will now referred.

  “Before you go any further, Will,” Darling Jill said, “you’d better not forget Buck. You know what he said.”

  “He said he would kill me, didn’t he? Well, why doesn’t he come and do it? He had the chance to try it this morning. I was over there among those God damn pot holes. Why didn’t he do it then?”

  “He can still do it. There’ll be time enough for it.”

  “I’m not scared of him. If he ever makes a move at me, I’ll twist his neck off and throw it into one of those God damn pot holes, and him into another.”

  “Will,” Rosamond said, “please be careful. Buck can’t be stopped once he sets his head on doing something. If you put your hands on Griselda, and Bu
ck ever hears about it, he’ll kill you as sure as the world we stand on.”

  He was no longer interested in hearing them express their fear of what Buck would do.

  Griselda stood before him. Her eyes were closed and her lips were partly open, and her breath came rapidly. When he told her to sit down, she would sit down. Until then she would remain standing for the rest of her life.

  “Ty Ty was right,” Will said, looking at her. “He knew what he ‘was talking about. He told me about you, lots of times, but I didn’t have sense enough to take you then. But I’m going to now. Nothing in God’s world can stop me now. I’m going to have it, Griselda. I’m as strong as God Almighty Himself now, and I’m going to do it.”

  Darling Jill and Pluto moved nervously in their seats, but Rosamond sat calmly quiet with folded hands in her lap.

  “I’m going to look at you like God intended for you to be seen. I’m going to rip every piece of those things off of you in a minute. i’m going to rip them off and tear them into pieces so small you’ll never be able to put them together again. I’m going to rip the last damn thread. I’m a loomweaver. I’ve woven cloth all my life, making every kind of fabric in God’s world. Now I’m going to tear all that to pieces so small nobody will ever know what they were. They’ll look like lint when I get through. Down there in the mill I’ve woven ginghams and shirting, denim and sheeting, and all the rest; up here in this yellow company house I’m going to tear hell out of the cloth on you. We’re going to start spinning and weaving again tomorrow, but tonight I’m going to tear that cloth on you till it looks like lint out of a gin.”

  He went toward her. The veins on the backs of his hands and around his arms swelled and throbbed, looking as if they would burst. He came closer, stopping at arm’s length to look at her.

  Griselda stepped backward out of his reach. She was not afraid of Will, because she knew he would not hurt her. But she stepped backward out of his reach, afraid of the look in his eyes. Will’s eyes were not cruel, and they were not murderous--he would not hurt her for anything in the world--they were too tender for that now--and his eyes were coming closer and closer.

  Will caught the collar of her dress, a hand on each side, and flung his arms wide apart. The thin printed voile disintegrated in his hands like steam. }-Ie had ripped it from her, tearing it insanely in his hands, quickly, eagerly, minutely. She watched him with throbbing excitement, following the arcs of his flying fingers and the motions of his arms. Piece by piece he tore like a madman, hurling the fluffy lint in all directions around the room when he bent forward over the c]oth. She ‘watched him unresistingly when he flung the last of the dress aside and ripped open the white slip as though it were a paper bag. He was working faster all the time, tearing, ripping, jerking, throwing the shredded cloth around him and blowing the flying lint from his face. The final garment was silk. He tore at it frantically, even more savagely than he had at the beginning. When that was done, she was standing before him, waiting, trembling, just as he had said she would stand. Perspiration covered his face and chest. His breathing was difficult. He had worked as he had never done before, and the shredded cloth lay on the floor at his feet, covering them.

  “Now!” he shouted at her. “Now! God damn it, now! I told you to stand there like God intended for you to be seen! Ty Ty was right! He said you were the most beautiful woman God ever made, didn’t he? And he said you were so pretty, he said you were so God damn pretty, a man would have to get down on his hands and knees and lick something when he saw you like you are now. Didn’t he? Yes, so help me God, he did! And after all this time I’ve got you at last, too. And I’m going to do what I’ve been wanting to do ever since the first time I saw you. You know what it is, don’t you, Griselda? You know what I want. And you’re going to give it to me. But I’m not like the rest of them that wear pants. I’m as strong as God Almighty Himself is now. And I’m going to lick you, Griselda. Ty Ty knew what he was talking about. He said that was what a man would do to you. He’s even got more sense than all the rest of us put together, even if he does dig in the ground like a God damn fool.”

  He paused for breath, going toward her. Griselda backed toward the door. She was not trying to escape from him now, but she had to go away from him until he caught her and dragged her to another part of the house. He ran, throwing his hands on her.

  Chapter XVI

  For a long time after they had gone Darling Jill sat squeezing her fingers with savage excitement. She was afraid to look across the room at her sister then. The beating within her breast frightened her, and she was almost choked with nervousness. Never before had she felt so completely aroused.

  But when she did not look at her sister, she was afraid of being alone. She turned boldly and looked at Rosamond, and she was surprised to see such composure as Rosamond possessed. She was rocking a little in the chair, folding her, hands and unfolding them ‘without haste. There was an expression of sereneness on Rosamond’s face that was beautiful to behold.

  Beside her, Pluto was bewildered. He had not felt the things she had. She knew no man would. Pluto was speechless with wonder at Will and Griselda, but he was unmoved. Darling Jill had felt the surge of their lives pass through the room while Will stood before them tearing Griselda’s clothes to shreds, and Rosamond had. But Pluto was a man, and he would never understand how they felt. Even Will, who brought it, had acted only with the guidance of his want of Griselda.

  Through the open doors they could see the restless flicker of the street light breaking through the leaves of the trees and falling on the bed and floor of the room. Over there, in that room, ‘were Will and Griselda. They were not in hiding, because the doors were open; they were not in secret, because their voices were strong and distinct.

  “I’ll pick up some of the lint now,” Rosamond said calmly. She got down on her knees and began gleaning the minute particles of cotton fiber from the floor, piling them carefully beside her. “I don’t need any help.”

  Darling Jill watched her while she gathered the threads and torn cloth slowly and with care. She bent over, her face obscured, and picked piece by piece the clothes torn from Griselda. When she had finished, she went to the kitchen and brought back a large paper bag. Into it she placed the torn voile and underclothing.

  It seemed to Darling Jill that Will and Griselda had been in the room across the hall for hours. They no longer were talking, and she began to wonder if they had gone to sleep. Then she remembered that Will had said he would not sleep that night, and she knew he would be awake even if Griselda were not. She waited for Rosamond to return from the kitchen.

  Rosamond came back and sat down across from her.

  “Buck is going to kill Will when he hears about this,” Darling Jill said.

  “Yes,” Rosamond replied. “I know.”

  “He’ll never find out from me, but he’ll learn of it in some way. Maybe he’ll just feel it or something. But he will certainly know what happened.”

  “Yes,” Rosamond said.

  “He may be on his way over here now. He expected Griselda to come straight back.”

  “I don’t believe he will come tonight. But he may come tomorrow.”

  “Will ought to go away somewhere, so Buck ‘won’t be able to find him.”

  “No. Will wouldn’t go anywhere. He’ll stay here. We couldn’t make him leave.”

  “But Buck will kill him, Rosamond. If he stays here, and Buck hears about it, he’ll be killed as sure as the world. I’m certain of that.”

  “Yes,” Rosamond said. “I know.”

  Rosamond went to the kitchen to see what time it was by the clock. It was between three and four in the morning then. She came back and sat down, folding her hands and unfolding them without haste.

  “Aren’t we ever going home?” Pluto asked.

  “No,” Darling Jill said. “Shut up.”

  “But I’ve got to--”

  “No, you haven’t. Shut up.”

  Will appeared no
iselessly at the door, barefooted. He was wearing only a pair of khaki pants, and he looked like a loomweaver, bare-backed and sleep-refreshed, ready to go to work.

  He sat down in the room with them, holding his hands around his head. He had the appearance of someone trying to protect his head from an enemy’s fists.

  Darling Jill felt the returning surge of savage excitement grip her. She could never again look at Will without that feeling coming over her. The memory of seeing Will stand in front of Griselda tearing her clothes to threads like a madman, hearing him talk like Ty Ty, watching him clutch Griselda with swollen muscles, that memory was branded upon her as if it had been seared upon her body with white-hot irons. She stood it as long as she could, and then she ran and fell at his feet, hugging his knees and kissing him all over. Will laid his hands on her head and stroked her hair.

  She stirred jerkily, rising to her knees and thrusting her body between his legs, and locked her arms around his waist. Her head was buried against him, and she hugged him with her arms and shoulders. It was only when she could find his hands that she lay still against him. One after the other she kissed his fingers, pushing them between her lips and into her mouth. But after that, she still was not satisfied.

  He continued to stroke her hair, slowly and heavily. His head was thrown back and his other arm was thrown around his face and forehead.

  “What time is it?” he asked after a while.

  Rosamond got up and went again to the kitchen and looked at the clock.

  “It’s twenty past four, Will,” she said.

  He covered his face again, trying to blot out the light from his eyes. His mind was so clear he could follow a thought through the endless tube of his brain. Each thought reached to endless depths, but each time it returned after the whirling journey of his brain. Each thought raced around and around in his head, flowing smoothly from cell to cell, and he closed his eyes and knew at each moment the exact point on his skull where he could place the tip of his finger and locate it.

  Up and down the Valley his mind raced, biting eagerly at the doors of the yellow company houses and at the windows of the ivy-walled mills. At Langley, at Clearwater, at Warrenville, at Bath, at Graniteville, he stopped for a moment to look at the people going into the spinning mills, the bleacheries, the weaving mills.