listen to Swain. Miss Shug walk down too, every once in a while. She still wearing her little shifts, and I still cornrow her hair, but it getting long now and she say soon she want it press.
Harpo puzzle by Shug. One reason is she say whatever come to mind, forgit about polite. Sometime I see him staring at her real hard when he don’t think I’m looking.
One day he say, Nobody coming way out here just to hear Swain. Wonder could I get the Queen Honeybee?
I don’t know, I said. She a lot better now, always humming or singing something. She probably be glad to git back to work. Why don’t you ask her?
Shug say his place not much compared to what she used to, but she think maybe she might grace it with a song.
Harpo and Swain got Mr. ____ to give ’em some of Shug old announcements from out the trunk. Crossed out The Lucky Star of Coalman Road, put in Harpo’s of _____ plantation. Stuck ’em on trees tween the turn off to our road and town. The first Saturday night so many folks come they couldn’t git in.
Shug, Shug baby, us thought you was dead.
Five out of a dozen say hello to Shug like that.
And come to find out it was you, Shug say with a big grin.
At last I git to see Shug Avery work. I git to watch her. I git to hear her.
Mr. _____ didn’t want me to come. Wives don’t go to places like that, he say.
Yeah, but Celie going, say Shug, while I press her hair. Spose I git sick while I’m singing, she say. Spose my dress come undone? She wearing a skintight red dress look like the straps made out of two pieces of thread.
Mr. _____ mutter, putting on his clothes. My wife can’t do this. My wife can’t do that. No wife of mines... He go on and on.
Shug Avery finally say, Good thing I ain’t your damn wife.
He hush then. All three of us go down to Harpo’s. Mr. _____ and me sit at the same table. Mr. _____ drink whiskey. I have a cold drink.
First Shug sing a song by somebody name Bessie Smith. She say Bessie somebody she know. Old friend. It call A Good Man Is Hard to Find. She look over at Mr. _____ a little when she sing that. I look over at him too. For such a little man, he all puff up. Look like all he can do to stay in his chair. I look at Shug and I feel my heart begin to cramp. It hurt me so, I cover it with my hand. I think I might as well be under the table, for all they care. I hate the way I look, I hate the way I’m dress. Nothing but churchgoing clothes in my chifferobe. And Mr. _____ looking at Shug’s bright black skin in her tight red dress, her feet in little sassy red shoes. Her hair shining in waves.
Before I know it, tears meet under my chin.
And I’m confuse.
He love looking at Shug. I love looking at Shug.
But Shug don’t love looking at but one of us. Him.
But that the way it spose to be. I know that. But if that so, why my heart hurt me so?
My head droop so it near bout in my glass.
Then I hear my name.
Shug saying Celie. Miss Celie. And I look up where she at.
She say my name again. She say this song I’m bout to sing is call Miss Celie’s song. Cause she scratched it out of my head when I was sick.
First she hum it a little, like she do at home. Then she sing the words.
It all about some no count man doing her wrong, again. But I don’t listen to that part. I look at her and I hum along a little with the tune.
First time somebody made something and name it after me.
DEAR GOD,
Pretty soon it be time for Shug to go. She sing every week-end now at Harpo’s. He make right smart money off of her, and she make some too. Plus she gitting strong again and stout. First night or two her songs come out good but a little weak, now she belt them out. Folks out in the yard hear her with no trouble. She and Swain sound real good together. She sing, he pick his box. It nice at Harpo’s. Little tables all round the room with candles on them that I made, lot of little tables outside too, by the creek. Sometime I look down the path from our house and it look like a
Harpo puzzle by Shug. One reason is she say whatever come to mind, forgit about polite. Sometime I see him staring at her real hard when he don’t think I’m looking.
One day he say, Nobody coming way out here just to hear Swain. Wonder could I get the Queen Honeybee?
I don’t know, I said. She a lot better now, always humming or singing something. She probably be glad to git back to work. Why don’t you ask her?
Shug say his place not much compared to what she used to, but she think maybe she might grace it with a song.
Harpo and Swain got Mr. ____ to give ’em some of Shug old announcements from out the trunk. Crossed out The Lucky Star of Coalman Road, put in Harpo’s of _____ plantation. Stuck ’em on trees tween the turn off to our road and town. The first Saturday night so many folks come they couldn’t git in.
Shug, Shug baby, us thought you was dead.
Five out of a dozen say hello to Shug like that.
And come to find out it was you, Shug say with a big grin.
At last I git to see Shug Avery work. I git to watch her. I git to hear her.
Mr. _____ didn’t want me to come. Wives don’t go to places like that, he say.
Yeah, but Celie going, say Shug, while I press her hair. Spose I git sick while I’m singing, she say. Spose my dress come undone? She wearing a skintight red dress look like the straps made out of two pieces of thread.
Mr. _____ mutter, putting on his clothes. My wife can’t do this. My wife can’t do that. No wife of mines... He go on and on.
Shug Avery finally say, Good thing I ain’t your damn wife.
He hush then. All three of us go down to Harpo’s. Mr. _____ and me sit at the same table. Mr. _____ drink whiskey. I have a cold drink.
First Shug sing a song by somebody name Bessie Smith. She say Bessie somebody she know. Old friend. It call A Good Man Is Hard to Find. She look over at Mr. _____ a little when she sing that. I look over at him too. For such a little man, he all puff up. Look like all he can do to stay in his chair. I look at Shug and I feel my heart begin to cramp. It hurt me so, I cover it with my hand. I think I might as well be under the table, for all they care. I hate the way I look, I hate the way I’m dress. Nothing but churchgoing clothes in my chifferobe. And Mr. _____ looking at Shug’s bright black skin in her tight red dress, her feet in little sassy red shoes. Her hair shining in waves.
Before I know it, tears meet under my chin.
And I’m confuse.
He love looking at Shug. I love looking at Shug.
But Shug don’t love looking at but one of us. Him.
But that the way it spose to be. I know that. But if that so, why my heart hurt me so?
My head droop so it near bout in my glass.
Then I hear my name.
Shug saying Celie. Miss Celie. And I look up where she at.
She say my name again. She say this song I’m bout to sing is call Miss Celie’s song. Cause she scratched it out of my head when I was sick.
First she hum it a little, like she do at home. Then she sing the words.
It all about some no count man doing her wrong, again. But I don’t listen to that part. I look at her and I hum along a little with the tune.
First time somebody made something and name it after me.
DEAR GOD,
Pretty soon it be time for Shug to go. She sing every week-end now at Harpo’s. He make right smart money off of her, and she make some too. Plus she gitting strong again and stout. First night or two her songs come out good but a little weak, now she belt them out. Folks out in the yard hear her with no trouble. She and Swain sound real good together. She sing, he pick his box. It nice at Harpo’s. Little tables all round the room with candles on them that I made, lot of little tables outside too, by the creek. Sometime I look down the path from our house and it look like a
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