"Then we better make tracks."Baby Suggs kissed her on the mouth and refused to let her see the children. They were asleep shesaid and Sethe was too uglylooking to wake them in the night. She took the newborn and handed itto a young woman in a bonnet, telling her not to clean the eyes till she got the mother's urine.
"Has it cried out yet?" asked Baby.
"A little.""Time enough. Let's get the mother well."She led Sethe to the keeping room and, by the light of a spirit lamp, bathed her in sections, startingwith her face. Then, while waiting for another pan of heated water, she sat next to her and stitchedgray cotton. Sethe dozed and woke to the washing of her hands and arms. After each bathing, Babycovered her with a quilt and put another pan on in the kitchen. Tearing sheets, stitching the graycotton, she supervised the woman in the bonnet who tended the baby and cried into her cooking.
When Sethe's legs were done, Baby looked at her feet and wiped them lightly. She cleanedbetween Sethe's legs with two separate pans of hot water and then tied her stomach and vaginawith sheets. Finally she attacked the unrecognizable feet.
"You feel this?""Feel what?" asked Sethe.
"Nothing. Heave up." She helped Sethe to a rocker and lowered her feet into a bucket of salt waterand juniper. The rest of the night Sethe sat soaking. The crust from her nipples Baby softened withlard and then washed away. By dawn the silent baby woke and took her mother's milk.
"Pray God it ain't turned bad," said Baby. "And when you through, call me." As she turned to go,Baby Suggs caught a glimpse of something dark on the bed sheet. She frowned and looked at herdaughter-in-law bending toward the baby. Roses of blood blossomed in the blanket coveringSethe's shoulders. Baby Suggs hid her mouth with her hand. When the nursing was over and thenewborn was asleep — its eyes half open, its tongue dream-sucking — wordlessly the olderwoman greased the flowering back and pinned a double thickness of cloth to the inside of thenewly stitched dress.
It was not real yet. Not yet. But when her sleepy boys and crawl ing-already? girl were brought in,it didn't matter whether it was real or not. Sethe lay in bed under, around, over, among butespecially with them all. The little girl dribbled clear spit into her face, and Sethe's laugh of delightwas so loud the crawling-already? baby blinked. Buglar and Howard played with her ugly feet,after daring each other to be the first to touch them. She kept kissing them. She kissed the backs oftheir necks, the tops of their heads and the centers of their palms, and it was the boys who decidedenough was enough whenshe liked their shirts to kiss their tight round bellies. She stopped when and because they said,"Pappie come?"She didn't cry. She said "soon" and smiled so they would think the brightness in her eyes was lovealone. It was some time before she let Baby Suggs shoo the boys away so Sethe could put on thegray cotton dress her mother-in-law had started stitching together the night before. Finally she layback and cradled the crawling already ? girl in her arms. She enclosed her left nipple with twofingers of her right hand and the child opened her mouth. They hit home together.
Baby Suggs came in and laughed at them, telling Sethe how strong the baby girl was, how smart,already crawling. Then she stooped to gather up the ball of rags that had been Sethe's clothes.
"Nothing worth saving in here," she said.
Sethe liked her eyes. "Wait," she called. "Look and see if there's something still knotted up in thepetticoat."Baby Suggs inched the spoiled fabric through her fingers and came upon what felt like pebbles.
She held them out toward Sethe. "Going away present?""Wedding present.""Be nice if there was a groom to go with it." She gazed into her hand. "What you think happenedto him?""I don't know," said Sethe. "He wasn't where he said to meet him at. I had to get out. Had to."Sethe watched the drowsy eyes of the sucking girl for a moment then looked at Baby Suggs' face.
"He'll make it. If I made it, Halle sure can.""Well, put these on. Maybe they'll light his way." Convinced her son was dead, she handed thestones to Sethe.
"I need holes in my ears.""I'll do it," said Baby Suggs. "Soon's you up to it."Sethe jingled the earrings for the pleasure of the crawling-already? girl, who reached for them overand over again.
In the Clearing, Sethe found Baby's old preaching rock and remembered the smell of leavessimmering in the sun, thunderous feet and the shouts that ripped pods off the limbs of thechestnuts. With Baby Suggs' heart in charge, the people let go.
Sethe had had twenty-eight days — the travel of one whole moon — of unslaved life. From thepure clear stream of spit that the little girl dribbled into her face to her oily blood was twenty-eightdays. Days of healing, ease and real-talk. Days of company: knowing the names of forty, fiftyother Negroes, their views, habits; where they had been and what done; of feeling their fun andsorrow along with her own, which made it better. One taught her the alphabet; another a stitch. Alltaught her how it felt to wake up at dawn and decide what to do with the day. That's how she gotthrough the waiting for Halle. Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she hadclaimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing; claiming ownership of that freed self was another.
Now she sat on Baby Suggs' rock, Denver and Beloved watching her from the trees. There willnever be a day, she thought, when Halle will knock on the door. Not knowing it was hard; knowingit was harder.
Just the fingers, she thought. Just let me feel your fingers again on the back of my neck and I willlay it all down, make a way out of this no way. Sethe bowed her head and sure enough — theywere there. Lighter now, no more than the strokes of bird feather, but unmistakably caressingfingers. She had to relax a bit to let them do their work, so light was the touch, childlike almost,more finger kiss than kneading. Still she was grateful for the effort; Baby Suggs' long distance lovewas equal to any skin-close love she had known. The desire, let alone the gesture, to meet herneeds was good enough to lift her spirits to the place where she could take the next step: ask forsome clarifying word; some advice about how to keep on with a brain greedy for news nobodycould live with in a world happy to provide it.
She knew Paul D was adding something to her life — something she wanted to count on but wasscared to. Now he had added more: new pictures and old rememories that broke her heart. Into the empty space of not knowing about Halle — -a space sometimes colored with righteous resentmentat what could have been his cowardice, or stupidity or bad luck — that empty place of no definitenews was filled now with a brand-new sorrow and who could tell how many more on the way.
Years ago — when 124 was alive — she had women friends, men friends from all around to sharegrief with. Then there was no one, for they would not visit her while the baby ghost filled thehouse, and she returned their disapproval with the potent pride of the mistreated. But now therewas someone to share it, and he had beat the spirit away the very day he entered her house and nosign of it since. A blessing, but in its place he brought another kind of haunting: Halle's facesmeared with butter and the dabber too; his own mouth jammed full of iron, and Lord knows whatelse he could tell her if he wanted to.
The fingers touching the back of her neck were stronger now — the strokes bolder as though BabySuggs were gathering strength. Putting the thumbs at the nape, while the fingers pressed the sides.
Harder, harder, the fingers moved slowly around toward her windpipe, making little circles on theway. Sethe was actually more surprised than frightened to find that she was being strangled. Or soit seemed. In any case, Baby Suggs' fingers had a grip on her that would not let her breathe.
Tumbling forward from her seat on the rock, she clawed at the hands that were not there. Her feetwere thrashing by the time Denver got to her and then Beloved.
"Ma'am! Ma'am!" Denver shouted. "Ma'ammy!" and turned her mother over on her back.
The fingers left off and Sethe had to swallow huge draughts of air before she recognized herdaughter's face next to her own and Beloved's hovering above.
"You all right?""Somebody choked me," said Sethe.
"Who?"Sethe rubbed her neck and struggled to a sitting position. "Grandma Baby, I reckon. I just askedher to rub my neck, like she used to and she was doing fine and then just got crazy with it, Iguess.""She wouldn't do that to you, Ma'am. Grandma Baby? Uh uh.""Help me up from here.""Look." Beloved was pointing at Sethe's neck.
"What is it? What you see?" asked Sethe.
"Bruises," said Denver.
"On my neck?""Here," said Beloved. "Here and here, too." She reached out her hand and touched the splotches,gathering color darker than Sethe's dark throat, and her fingers were mighty cool.
"That don't help nothing," Denver said, but Beloved was leaning in, her two hands stroking thedamp skin that felt like chamois and looked like taffeta.
Sethe moaned. The girl's fingers were so cool and knowing. Sethe's knotted, private, walk-onwaterlife gave in a bit, softened, and it seemed that the glimpse of happiness she caught in theshadows swinging hands on the road to the carnival was a likelihood — if she could just managethe news Paul D brought and the news he kept to himself. Just manage it. Not break, fall or cryeach time a hateful picture drifted in front of her face. Not develop some permanent craziness likeBaby Suggs' friend, a young woman in a bonnet whose food was full of tears. Like Aunt Phyllis,who slept with her eyes wide open. Like Jackson Till, who slept under the bed. All she wanted wasto go on. As she had. Alone with her daughter in a haunted house she managed every damn thing.
Why now, with Paul D instead of the ghost, was she breaking up? getting scared? needing Baby?
The worst was over, wasn't it? She had already got through, hadn't she? With the ghost in 124 shecould bear, do, solve anything. Now a hint of what had happened to Halie and she cut out like arabbit looking for its mother.
Beloved's fingers were heavenly. Under them and breathing evenly again, the anguish rolled down.
The peace Sethe had come there to find crept into her.
We must look a sight, she thought, and closed her eyes to see it: the three women in the middle ofthe Clearing, at the base of the rock where Baby Suggs, holy, had loved. One seated, yielding upher throat to the kind hands of one of the two kneeling before her. Denver watched the faces of theother two. Beloved watched the work her thumbs were doing and must have loved what she sawbecause she leaned over and kissed the tenderness under Sethe's chin.
贝比·萨格斯亲吻了她的嘴，不让她马上去见孩子们。她说他们正睡着呢，再说塞丝的样子太难看了，不能在夜里叫醒他们。她接过新生儿，把她递给一个戴软帽的年轻女人，告诉她先别洗两只眼睛，等得到妈妈的尿再说。
“她哭出声了吗？
”贝比问。
“哭了一小会儿。
”
“足够了。我们先来把当妈妈的收拾干净吧。
”
她把塞丝领进起居室，在酒精灯下一部分一部分地清洗她，先从脸开始洗起。然后，她坐在塞丝身旁，一边等着下一锅水烧热，一边缝着一条灰棉布裙子。塞丝睡着了，直到洗胳膊和手的时候才醒过来。每洗过一处，贝比就用被子盖上她，到厨房里再烧上一锅水。她一面撕开床单，一面缝 缀着灰棉布，同时还监督那个边哭边做饭的戴软帽女人照料婴儿。塞丝的腿洗净之后，贝比看着她的脚，轻轻地擦干腿。她总共用了两锅热水来擦洗塞丝的两腿之间，然后用床单裹住她的肚子和阴部。最后她才来对付那双难以辨认的脚。
“你觉出来了吗？
”
“觉出什么？
”塞丝问。
“没事儿。起来吧。
”她把塞丝扶到摇椅上，把她的脚放进一桶杜松盐水里。她就这样坐着泡了一夜。贝比用猪油弄软她乳头上的硬壳，然后再冲洗掉。黎明时分，安静的婴儿醒过来，喝到了妈妈的乳汁。
“上帝保佑，没出什么问题。
”贝比道，“你奶完孩子就叫我。
”贝比·萨格斯正要转身走开，突然瞥见床单上有块黑渍。她皱起眉头，看着正弯下身子给婴儿喂奶的儿媳妇。鲜血的玫瑰盛开在盖着塞丝肩膀的毯子上。贝比·萨格斯用手捂住嘴。新生儿吃完奶，睡着了———眼睛半睁，在梦里吧嗒着舌头———老太太一声不吭地往开遍鲜花的后背上涂油，又往新缝的裙子里垫了双层的布。
这还不是真的。还不是。可是当她的两个睡眼惺忪的儿子和那个“都会爬了？
”的女儿被带进来时，是不是真的都无关紧要了。塞丝躺在床上，他们上上下下、左左右右地绕着她，尤其难得的是一个不缺。小女儿透明的口水滴在塞丝脸上，她开心地大笑着，笑得太响了，搞得那“都会爬了？
”
的小宝贝直眨巴眼睛。巴格勒和霍华德先是互激对方第一个去摸她的难看的脚丫，接着就一起玩起它们来。她不停地亲吻他们。她亲吻他们的脖梗子、脑袋顶和手掌心，当她又掀起他们的衬衫去亲吻那圆鼓鼓的小肚皮时，儿子们认为可以到此为止了。她停了下来，因为他们问道：
“爸爸来啦？
”
她没有哭。她说“快了”，而且笑着，这样他们就会以为她眼里的泪光仅仅是爱。过了好一会儿，塞丝让贝比·萨格斯把男孩们轰走，于是，她才能穿上婆婆在头天晚上缝起来的那条灰棉布裙子。最后，她躺下来，怀里摇着“都会爬了？
”的女儿。她用右手的两个指头捏起左乳头，孩子张开了嘴。她和奶水一块儿到家了。
贝比·萨格斯一进来就笑她们，她对塞丝说，她的宝贝女儿多壮实，多机灵，都会爬了。然后她弯腰收拾起曾经是塞丝的衣服的那团烂布。
“没什么值得留的东西。
”她说。
塞丝抬起眼睛。
“等等，”她叫道，“翻一翻，看内衣里还系没系着什么东西。
”
贝比·萨格斯用手指将煮过的衣裳一点点摸了一遍，碰到石子样的东西。她把它们递给塞丝。
“告别礼物？
”
“结婚礼物。
”
“要是有个新郎一道来就更好了。
”她盯着塞丝手里的东西，“你觉得他怎么样了？
”
“我不知道。
”塞丝答道，“说好了在那儿碰头的，可他不在。我只好逃出来。非逃不可。
”塞丝看了一会儿那吃奶孩子的睡眼，然后盯着贝比·萨格斯的脸。
“他会成功的。要是我能，黑尔当然也能。
”
“好吧，戴上耳环吧。也许它们能照亮他的道路。
”她把宝石递给塞丝，同时确信她的儿子已经死了。
“我得在耳朵上穿洞。
”
“我来吧，”贝比·萨格斯说，“一会儿就好。
”
塞丝把耳环晃得叮叮作响，逗弄那个“都会爬了？
”的女儿，让她一次次地去够它们。
在“林间空地”上，塞丝找到了从前贝比训众的那块石头，记起了阳光中蒸腾的树叶的气味、雷鸣般的脚步声，以及把荚果扯下七叶树枝的呐喊。在贝比·萨格斯的心灵的率领下，人们尽情发泄。
塞丝度过了二十八天———整整一轮月缺月圆———的非奴隶生活。从小女孩滴在她脸上的纯净透明的口水，到她的油腻的血，一共是二十八天，是痊愈、轻松和真心交谈的日子，是交朋会友的日子：她知道了四五十个其他黑人的名字，了解他们的看法、习惯，他们待过的地方、干过的事；体验他们的甘苦，聊以抚慰自己的创痛。一个人教了她字母表；另一个教她做针线。大家一起教她体会黎明时醒来并决定这一天干些什么的滋味。这样，她熬过了等待黑尔的时光。一点一点地，在124号和“林间空地”上，同大家在一起，她赢得了自我。解放自我是一回事；赢得那个解放了的自我的所有权却是另一回事。
此刻，她坐在贝比·萨格斯的石头上，丹芙和宠儿从树林里望着她。再不会有那一天了，她想，黑尔永远不会来敲门了。不知道的时候很苦；知道了更苦。
只要手指，她心中暗道。只要让我再次感觉到你的手指按住我的脖子后面，我就会全部放下，从这绝境中辟出一条路来。塞丝低下头，可以肯定———它们来了。如今更轻了，比鸟羽的抚摸更轻，但绝对是爱抚的手指。她得放松一点，让它们抚摸，轻而又轻地抚摸，几乎是孩子的动作，不是在揉，而是在用手指亲吻。不过她仍然感激她的努力；贝比·萨格斯遥远的爱可以同她所知的一切切肤之爱相媲美。不用说手上的动作，单是那试图满足她要求的愿望，就足以把她的灵魂升到一个地方，使她能够接着走下一步：请求一些澄清真相的话语；请求一些建议，告诉她怎样才能跟上一个贪恋消息的大脑。这个世界最乐于提供这种令人忍无可忍的消息了。
她知道保罗·D在给她的生活增加某种东西———某种她想信任又怕信任的东西。现在他又增加了更多的东西：令她心碎的新的画面和旧的记忆。将它们加进对黑尔一无所知的空白———这空白有时会染上一种理所当然的怨恨，也许是针对他的懦弱、愚蠢，也许是针对他的倒霉———这没有确切消息来充实的空白，现在充满了一种崭新的悲伤，谁又说得出还会有多少悲伤即将来临呢。多年以前———那时124号仍旧生气勃勃———曾经有来自四面八方的女友、男友，来帮她分担悲伤。然后就一个也没有了，因为他们不愿意到一个小鬼魂肆虐的房子里来看她，而她也以受虐者强烈的骄傲回敬大家的不满。可是现在又有个人来分担了，而且他刚走进大门那天，鬼魂就被他赶跑了，至今仍无影无踪。这本是一种赐福，然而他取代了它的位置，又带来了另一种纠缠：黑尔涂满牛油和酸酪的脸，他自己勒着铁嚼子的嘴；天知道，愿意的话，他还会告诉她些什么。
抚摸着她后脖子的手指这时有力些了———手法更大胆了，好像贝比·萨格斯正在积聚力气。大拇指放在后颈上，其余的手指按着两边。重了一些，又重了一些，手指慢慢移向她的气管，一路划着小圆圈。塞丝与其说是恐惧，不如说是惊讶地发现自己正在被扼杀。至少表面上如此。不管怎么说，贝比·萨格斯的手指扼得她喘不过气来。她从坐着的石头上向前摔去，抓扯着不存在的手。她正双脚乱踢，丹芙来到身边；接着宠儿也来了。
“太太!太太!”丹芙叫着。
“妈妈!”她把妈妈翻过来，让她仰卧着。
手指松开了，塞丝大口大口地吞着空气，然后辨认出自己身旁女儿的脸和上面游移不定的宠儿的脸。
“你没事吧？
”
“有人要掐死我。
”塞丝说。
“谁？”
塞丝揉着脖子，挣扎着坐起来。
“贝比奶奶，我估计。我不过求她揉揉脖子，像她从前那样，起初她揉得好好的，可后来就揉疯了，我猜是。
”
“她不可能对你那样，太太。贝比奶奶？不可能。
”
“帮我起来。
”
“看哪。
”宠儿指着塞丝的脖子。
“是什么？你看见什么了？
”塞丝问。
“伤。”丹芙道。
“在我脖子上？
”
“这儿，”宠儿道，“这儿，还有这儿。
”她伸手摸着那些斑点，发现它们的颜色比塞丝黑黑的脖子还黑；她的手指冰凉冰凉的。
“那没用。
”丹芙说道，可是宠儿仍然探出身子，用两只手去抚摸塞丝湿乎乎的皮肤。她的皮肤摸起来像羚羊皮，看着像塔夫绸。
塞丝呻吟着。这姑娘的手指如此清凉，如此体贴。塞丝盘根错节、秘不示人、如履薄冰的一生稍稍退让了一些，柔和了一些；看样子，她在去狂欢节的路上从携手的影子中找到的一线幸福是可能的———只要她能对付保罗·D带给她的和保留给自己的那些消息。只要她能对付。而不是每见到一幅可恨的画面漂到她面前，就垮掉、倒下，或者哭泣。不是像贝比·萨格斯的朋友，那个以泪泡饭的戴软帽的年轻姑娘那样，表现出一种持久的疯狂。像菲莉丝大妈那样，瞪圆了眼睛睡觉。像杰克逊·梯尔那样，在床底下睡觉。她只想活下去，像她过去那样。独自和女儿待在闹鬼的房子里，所有该死的事情都由她来顶着。为什么这时候，保罗·D替代了那个 鬼魂以后，她却垮了？害怕了？需要贝比了？最糟糕的已经过去了，不是吗？她已经挺过来了，不是吗？小鬼魂统治124号的时候她还能忍受，能做事，能解决一切问题。如今，有了一点关于黑尔如何如何的线索，她反倒像一只寻找妈妈的兔子一样六神无主了。
宠儿的手指太美妙了。在它们的抚慰下，塞丝再次均匀地呼吸，痛苦平息了。塞丝来这里寻找的安宁悄悄潜入了她的内心。
我们肯定是个奇观，她想道，于是又闭上眼睛去看：三个女人，在“林间空地”中央，在圣贝比·萨格斯热爱的石头脚下。一个坐着，其余两个跪在她面前，她把脖子伸向其中一个人亲切的双手。
丹芙盯着另外两个人的脸。宠儿则看着自己拇指的动作，而且肯定爱着她眼前的这个人，因为她探出身去吻了塞丝下巴下面的柔软部分。