Native Son - Richard Wright [100]
Yes; he would let her know, let her know everything; but let her know it in a way that would bind her to him, at least a little longer. He did not want to be alone now.
“They found the girl,” he said.
“What we going to do, Bigger? Look what you done to me….”
She began to cry.
“Aw, come on, kid.”
“You really killed her?”
“She’s dead,” he said. “They found her.”
She ran to the bed, fell upon it and sobbed. With her mouth all twisted and her eyes wet, she asked in gasps:
“Y-y-you d-didn’t send the l-letter?”
“Yeah.”
“Bigger,” she whimpered.
“There ain’t no help for it now.”
“Oh, Lord! They’ll come for me. They’ll know you did it and they’ll go to your home and talk to your ma and brother and everybody. They’ll come for me now sure.”
That was true. There was no way for her but to come with him. If she stayed here they would come to her and she would simply lie on the bed and sob out everything. She would not be able to help it. And what she would tell them about him, his habits, his life, would help them to track him down.
“You got the money?”
“It’s in my dress pocket.”
“How much is it?”
“Ninety dollars.”
“Well, what you planning to do?” he asked.
“I wish I could kill myself.”
“Ain’t no use talking that way.”
“There ain’t no way else to talk.”
It was a shot in the dark, but he decided to try it.
“If you don’t act better’n this, I’ll just leave.”
“Naw; naw…. Bigger!” she cried, rising and running to him.
“Well, snap out of it,” he said, backing to a chair. He sat down and felt how tired he was. Some strength he did not know he possessed had enabled him to run away, to stand here and talk with her; but now he felt that he would not have strength enough to run even if the police should suddenly burst into the room.
“You h-hurt?” she asked, catching hold of his shoulder.
He leaned forward in the chair and rested his face in the palms of his hands.
“Bigger, what’s the matter?”
“I’m tired and awful sleepy,” he sighed.
“Let me fix you something to eat.”
“I need a drink.”
“Naw; no whiskey. You need some hot milk.”
He waited, hearing her move about. It seemed that his body had turned to a piece of lead that was cold and heavy and wet and aching. Bessie switched on her electric stove, emptied a bottle of milk into a pan and set it upon the glowing red circle. She came back to him and placed her hands upon his shoulders, her eyes wet with fresh tears.
“I’m scared, Bigger.”
“You can’t be scared now.”
“You oughtn’t’ve killed her, honey.”
“I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help it. I swear!”
“What happened? You never told me.”
“Aw, hell. I was in her room….”
“Her room?”
“Yeah. She was drunk. She passed out. I…. I took her there.”
“What she do?”
“She…. Nothing. She didn’t do anything. Her ma came in. She’s blind….”
“The girl?”
“Naw; her ma. I didn’t want her to find me there. Well, the girl was trying to say something and I was scared. I just put the edge of the pillow in her mouth and…. I didn’t mean to kill her. I just pulled the pillow over her face and she died. Her ma came into the room and the girl was trying to say something and her ma had her hands stretched out, like this, see? I was scared she was going to touch me. I just sort of pushed the pillow hard over the girl’s face to keep her from yelling. Her ma didn’t touch me; I got out of the way. But when she left I went to the bed and the girl…. She…. She was dead…. That was all. She was dead…. I didn’t mean….”
“You didn’t plan to kill her?”
“Naw; I swear I didn’t. But what’s the use? Nobody’ll believe me.”
“Honey, don’t you see?”
“What?”
“They’ll say….”
Bessie cried again. He caught her face in his hands. He was concerned; he wanted to see this thing through her eyes at that moment.
“What?”
“They’ll…. They’ll say you raped her.”
Bigger stared. He had entirely forgotten the moment when he had carried Mary up the stairs. So deeply had he pushed it all back down into him that it was not until now that its real meaning came back. They would say he had raped her and there would be no way to prove that he had not. That fact had not assumed importance in his eyes until now. He stood up, his jaws hardening. Had he raped her? Yes, he had raped her. Every time he felt as he had felt that night, he raped. But rape was not what one did to women. Rape was what one felt when one