INVISIBLE MAN
37
({Ain't it the truth, Lawd?"
And at that point a voice of trombone timbre screamed at me,
"Git out of here, you fool! Is you ready to commit treason?"
And I tore myself away, hearing the old singer of spirituals
moaning, "Go curse your God, boy, and die."
I stopped and questioned her, asked her what was wrong.
"I dearly loved my master, son," she said.
"You should have hated him," I said.
"He gave me several sons," she said, ({and because I loved my
sons
[
learned to love their father though I hated him too."
"I too have become acquainted with ambivalence," I said.
"That's why I'm here."
"What's that?"
"Nothing, a word that doesn't explain it. Why do you moan?"
"[
moan this way 'cause he's dead," she said.
"Then tell me, who is that laughing upstairs?"
"Them's my sons. They glad."
"Yes, I can understand that too," I said.
"I laughs too, but I moans too. He promised to set us free but he
never could bring hisself to do it. Still I loved him
..."
"Loved him? You mean .
..
?"
"Oh yes, but I loved something else even more."
"What more?"
"Freedom."
"Freedom," I said. "Maybe freedom lies in hating."
"Naw, son, it's in loving. I
lo v~d
him and give him the poison
and he withered away like a frost-bit apple. The boys woulda tore
him to pieces with they homemade knives."
"A mistake was made somewhere," I said, "I'm confused." And
[ wished to say other things, but the laughter upstairs became too
loud and moan-like for me and I tried to break out of it, but I
couldn't. Just as I was leaving I felt an urgent desire to ask her what
freedom was and went back. She sat with her head in her hands,
moaning softly; her leather-brown face was filled with sadness.
"Old woman, what is this freedom you love so well?" I asked
around a corner of my mind.
She looked surprised, then thoughtful, then bafflM. "I done
forgot, son. It's
all
mixed up. First I think it's one thing, then I think
