Breath, Eyes, Memory

by Edwidge Danticat

“At one time, I would have given anything to be in school. But not at my age. My time is gone. Cooking and cleaning, looking after others, that’s my school now. That schoolhouse is your school. Cutting cane was the only thing for a young one to do when I was your age. That is why I never want to hear you complain about your school.”

means aunt or older revered woman

Death is the shepherd of man and in the final dawn, good will be the master of evil.

She said the lottery was like love. Providence was not with her, but she was patient.

They called one another’s names: Foi, Hope, Faith, Espérance, Beloved, God-Given, My Joy, First Born, Last Born, Aséfi, Enough-Girls, Enough-Boys, Délivrance, Small Misery, Big Misery, No Misery. Names as bright and colorful as the giant poincianas in Madame Augustin’s garden.

“Sophie, it is not mine. It is your mother’s. We must send it to your mother.”

I would scream and scream until my voice gave out, then Tante Atie would come and save me from her grasp.

I tried to listen without looking directly at the women’s faces. That would have been disrespectful, as bad as speaking without being spoken to.

We are a family with dirt under our fingernails.

“That means we’ve worked the land. We’re not educated.

However, Tante Atie thought that I couldn’t leave for New York without my grandmother’s blessing.

Besides, my grandmother said that it was best that we leave before she got too used to us and suffered a sudden attack of chagrin.

To treat chagrin, you drank tea from leaves that only my grandmother and other old wise women could recognize.

She told me about a group of people in Ginen who carry the sky on their heads. They are the people of Creation. Strong, tall, and mighty people who can bear anything. Their Maker, she said, gives them the sky to carry because they are strong. These people do not know who they are, but if you see a lot of trouble in your life, it is because you were chosen to carry part of the sky on your head.

Je t’aime de tout mon coeur. I love you with all my heart. It was signed by Monsieur Augustin.

Inside was a saffron dress with a large white collar and baby daffodils embroidered all over it.

“My child, she cleans it,”

My mother brought some face cream that promised to make her skin lighter.

The woman continued attacking him, shouting that she was tired of cowardly men speaking against women who were proving themselves, women as brave as stars out at dawn.

My mother smiled at the woman’s words. It was her turn to stand up and defend her man, but she said nothing. Marc kept looking at her, as if waiting for my mother to argue on his behalf, but my mother picked up the menu, and ran her fingers down the list of dishes.

My mother now had two lives: Marc belonged to her present life, I was a living memory from the past.

Tante Atie always said that eating beets and watermelon would put more red in my blood and give me more strength for hard times.

The way my mother was raised, a mother is supposed to do that to her daughter until the daughter is married. It is her responsibility to keep her pure.”

In the new place, my mother had a patch of land in the back where she started growing hibiscus. Daffodils would need more care and she had grown tired of them.

Now my first classes at college were a few months away and my mother couldn’t have been happier. Her sacrifices had paid off.

Tante Atie once said that love is like rain. It comes in a drizzle sometimes. Then it starts pouring and if you’re not careful it will drown you.

“You keep away from them especially. They are upset because they cannot have you.”

I was immediately fascinated by the name. Providence. Fate! A town named for the Creator, the Almighty. Who would not want to live there?

“I work at home,” he finally said, “in case you ever want to drop by.”

I felt like I was high enough to wash my hair in a cloud and have a star in my mouth.

The notes and scales were like raindrops, teardrops, torrents. I felt the music rise and surge, tightening every muscle in my body. Then I relaxed, letting it go, feeling a rush that I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel.

There, she made me lie on my bed and she tested me.

I tried to relive all the pleasant memories I remembered from my life.

Then one day, both the doll and her trunk full of clothes disappeared. Somehow I knew that she had just gotten up one morning and thrown the doll in the trash, because she no longer had any use for it.

If she wanted to stop bleeding, she would have to give up her right to be a human being. She could choose what to be, a plant or an animal, but she could no longer be a woman.

“I am a married woman.” “I see that,” he said, pointing first to my wedding ring and then to my daughter. “She is as perfect as you are, the child.” “Ou byen janti.” You are very kind.

Atie can never make herself stop talking about you. I am teaching Atie her letters now and all she can write in her book is your name.”

“I have heard everything. It has been a long time since our people walked to Africa, they say. The sea, it has no doors. They say the sharks from here to there, they can eat only Haitian flesh. That is all they know how to eat.”

flesh healers:

petals of blood red hibiscus, forget-me-nots, and daffodils.

“Mommy will bring you a nice treat from the market,” I said, hearing Tante Atie’s voice echo from my childhood.

“I think it is very good that she has learned to read,” I said. “It is her own freedom.”

“I call it humiliation,” I said. “I hate my body. I am ashamed to show it to anybody, including my husband. Sometimes I feel like I should be off somewhere by myself. That is why I am here.”

It said, I am good enough to talk to. I am good enough to kiss. You eat my pomegranates, yet you will not go with me across the sea. The bird looked so sad, it looked like it was going to die of sadness.

Joseph could never understand why I had done something so horrible to myself. I could not explain to him that it was like breaking manacles, an act of freedom.

However, I felt it was my duty as a wife. Something I owed to him, now that he was the only person in the world watching over me.

“You did not leave me. You were summoned away. We must graze where we are tied.” “I wish I had stayed with you.”

“If it is a girl, the midwife will cut the child’s cord and go home. The mother will be left in the darkness to hold her daughter. There will be no lamps, no candles, no more light.”

The men were singing about a woman who flew without her skin at night, and when she came back home, she found her skin peppered and could not put it back on. Her husband had done it to teach her a lesson. He ended up killing her.

I was surprised how fast it came back. The memory of how everything came together to make a great meal. The fragrance of the spices guided my fingers the way no instructions or measurements could.