Білі люди

           Butsheonlywatched,makingneithersoundnormovementuntilthecortegewasnearenoughforhertoseethateveryman’sheadwasboweduponhisbreast,andnotonewascovered.

           Thenshesaid,quiteslowly,“They—have—takenoff—theirbonnets,”andfellupontheterracelikeadroppedstone.

           ItwasbecauseofthisthatthegirlsaidthatshewasdeadwhenIwasborn.Itmusthaveseemedalmostasifshewerenotalivingthing.Shedidnotopenhereyesormakeasound;shelaywhiteandcold.ThecelebratedphysicianswhocamefromLondontalkedofcatalepsyandafterwardwrotescientificarticleswhichtriedtoexplainhercondition.ShedidnotknowwhenIwasborn.ShediedafewminutesafterIutteredmyfirstcry.

           Iknowonlyonethingmore,andthatJeanBraidfutetoldmeafterIgrewup.Jeanhadbeenmyfather’snurserygovernesswhenheworehisfirstkilts,andshelovedmymotherfondly.

           “Ikneltbyherbedandheldherhandandwatchedherfaceforthreehoursaftertheyfirstlaidherdown,”shesaid.“AndmyeyesweresonearhereverymomentthatIsawathingtheothersdidnotknowherwellenough,orloveherwellenough,tosee.

           “Thefirsthourshewaslikeadeadthing—aye,likeadeadthingthathadneverlived.Butwhenthehandoftheclockpassedthelastsecond,andthenewhourbegan,IbentclosertoherbecauseIsawachangestealingoverher.Itwasnotcolor—itwasnotevenashadowofamotion.Itwassomethingelse.IfIhadspokenwhatIfelt,theywouldhavesaidIwaslight-headedwithgriefandhavesentmeaway.Ihavenevertoldmanorwoman.