"I can't promise you..."
The low murmur of his voice rang softly between her ears that heard everything. But somehow, last night, as she listened greedily to his words, so much so that her small ears perked up and awkwardly outward, she could hardly hear anything from her ears that heard everything.
"That I won't hit you".
She shuddered at his somehow unsure yet deathly certain words. Ann Eliza without thinking and lost in pure habit pushed her back, the color of eggplant, into the jagged and worn uneven planks of old wood as she pushed her bottom down into the sun-warmed water in search of the coolness of the homemade tub's zinc bottom.
The sun-warmed water sloshed around a little, engulfing her body but forcing her small yet sturdy feet over the deciduous planks. She watched wearily as the water trickled down from the spaces between her toes- apparently the water from above was eager to join the sun-warmed water below.
Life taught her not to want, but in that moment, all she needed was the brilliance of his smile. She had never even given thought to the possibility of his love. In fact, she had not given thought to the possibility of anyone's love. Life taught her that as well. So it was quite understandable, the shock and then emptiness she felt when, in place of his love, he would not even allow her the comfort to know he would not beat her like his other women.
The first of the tears came suddenly and silently at first when she remembered him in the moonlight, the way the early morning heat caused his body to shine from the arrogant sweat right before the descent of cooling dew. She remembered loving him then, the way the silver light cast a fantastic halo that made his skin look like sugar just boiling. She remembered wanting him then as his heated caramel poured over her purple black form making his way over, under and inside of things.
The little streams of rainwater cascading down from her dark eyes began to choke her then. Her stomach sent small pockets of stale, hot breath up in bursts only to be captured in the cage of her chest and swallowed in the thin pipes of her esophagus. Her diaphragm hardly expanded but already her lungs collapsed as she remembered then how he ran ravenously to her strong, supple frame at all sorts of hours in moments of resting, during eating and when they should have been working.
Ann Eliza was so different he claimed. That's why he wanted her. Different he said, because she was as black as the long, thick mane on his prized horse and her black was just as lustrous. Different he said, because her stomach was flat and as tight as the square goat skin drum he beat under the gathering at the Guango tree. Different he said because her bottom and her legs were thick, yet soft and unbearably smooth. Different he said because he had searched a thousand mouths before, but none possessed lips as undescribable and unforgettable as hers.
So it was understandable, her shock, that sent clear, thick slime from her nose down along the curves of her breathtaking mouth. Her shock that caused an unpredictable rumbling that shattered her resolve and made tears explode from places where they could have never possibly come. The earthquake that bombarded her face, neck and chest with steamy tears made her heave and bawl out. She remembered then his promise, that if a baby were on its way soon, like the rest of the women, he would not leave her.
She searched and searched for the words to tell him that the only promise she cared to hear with her ears that heard everything, was that since she was so different, he would treat her differently from the other women and not beat her.
Through water-logged eyes sagging with a life full of burden she looked to the banana trees, seated in a circle for counsel. How could she explain to him that his leaving, or worse hers, she could bear, but his hitting would cause her to wither and perish.
© T.I. Williams
