Chapter 59 Fifty Eight Queenie

They are moving.Gilbert told Bernard.Of course, it was said in the stairwell amidst the noise.Nearly fighting, Gilbert yelled at Bernard to nail the house out of the sun.The tenant on the top floor has found a place to live.That's how calmly Bernard delivered the message to me. I told him: I know.I heard.The whole street heard it. However, he is very happy.Bernard asked me to move to the suburbs with him.nice house.Double house, there is a rose garden outside the front door, and a small lawn at the back.Good management is the phrase he uses.It wasn't like this house with its memories and visions that haunted his every thought.He wants a fresh start.Don't they all, those who went to war?I mean, they won.They certainly deserve to be paid for it.What else would victory be for?Bernard was never half as interesting as he was in wartime.He thought I would find his imprisonment and all that happened in the East amusing and shocking.That would be wrong.I just want to laugh.Shout out congratulations to him for finally being boring for once in his life.I know things are never going to be right, but at least we can now stand tall in each other's company.Even two skeletons trapped tightly in a closet are fine.Oh, Bernard.Bligh, who would have thought that?But when he talked about starting over, instead of looking at the baby, he turned his back to him and whispered.

Hortens and Gilbert giggled together as they walked up the steps to the door.I've been listening to them for hours, trying to catch them as they start to climb the stairs.They closed the front door behind them, and I was in the hall.Both of them were intimidated by me at first, but then their smiles faded away, and their eyes just said, Oh, no luck, she got caught again.Now my presence has this effect on them.There was a time when Gilbert saw my face and smiled, a cheeky grin that always made me feel special.I don't know when, our eyes have stopped talking. I asked: Would you like a cup of tea?They were so surprised you thought I had just invited them to watch me dance naked.They looked at each other as if I was playing some trick.They don't trust me anymore.Why?What happened to change all this?They were silent and no one answered, so as not to annoy the other person by answering wrongly.

All I can say is: just for a while. (I can say: I don't bite. I should say: We weren't friends before?) Just a cup of tea, and I have cake.I know you're moving, and I thought it would be nice to have tea together.Then I sincerely add one sentence: just treat it as a recap. Gilbert's shoulders relaxed when he realized that this was not a trap but just a cup of tea.He said: good.But Holtens could hardly hide the anger on his face. Bernard glanced at them and said: What's the matter with all this?I had asked him out.Hopefully he'll be out, running errands or seeing Mr. Todd.Anywhere is good, just don't sit at the dinner table and read the newspaper.

Gilbert straightened up.Your wife invited us in. Bernard was determined, looking for sarcasm.The two of them are like stags fighting for life and death. Oh, all right.Please, you two.Bernard, I've invited them in for a cup of tea. And his eyes said: In heaven, why would a woman like me invite them? I told him: I don't want them to move out without saying thank you. Bernard snickered suspiciously, and turned back to the paper.He sat in the corner, really a nasty cloud.This is not how I want it to look.He made things very awkward. Gilbert said: Queenie, we can go. No, sit, sit.

They were both sitting on the settee so momentarily that the cushions barely felt their presence.They are ready to run.I couldn't leave them here alone, facing Bernard and his wordless rage.They were either getting their feet oiled, or a struggle was about to break out.And, God, I don't want that. I said: Bernard, could you please make a pot of tea?And bring us a slice of cake each.The poor man was too frightened to protest.He opened his mouth and blinked in surprise.I didn't leave him with any good reason to say no.He pulled out the chair, folded the newspaper grandly and left.Truly blessed by God, the sun came out with great relief.

I was surprised that I was tongue-tied and stared at them sitting across from me.Trying desperately to say something nice.I started saying: I haven't thanked you yet, you know, you did me a favor.I said this to Hortens.Her face was as rigid as an aristocrat's.She raised her hand and gave me a little wave.That doesn't mean you don't need to thank me, really, it's nothing, and it's not Miss, please don't remind me too much, it's really hard to tell.There was silence, and then I asked: where are you going to move? Gilbert said: Finsbury Park. Are you ok? Needs a little work over.

Is there furniture in it? not yet, but Gilbert, why don't you take the furniture from the upstairs room if you want?We won't be able to use it in the future. No, thank you for your kindness. We appreciate it, Queenie. Come on, take it, Gilbert.Seriously, take it. He said very seriously and slowly: I cannot take your husband's furniture. . Well, give us a pound, and that's all we've sold to you. Gilbert adjusted his posture in his seat.Not even a glance in the direction of my eyes.I said the wrong thing.But what is wrong?I've never seen him look so awkward.I want to shout: Let's just rewind that scene and go through it again.But it was too late.Me and Gilbert used to laugh together, what changed?Sweat seeps from my armpits like a fountain.Well, you decide, but take it if you can.

There was another silence, and I heard the sound of the baby waking up and moving.As long as it's his business, I have ears as sharp as a bat.Couldn't hear the radio in the other room, but I could tell he had just a twitch of his nose.There was a kinship with him, as if we were connected.Do you want to see the baby?I asked them.You haven't seen him since he was born.He is less afraid of life now.In fact, he is very beautiful.I'm going to pick him up.I jumped up, not intending any of them to tell me not to bother.But I caught them giving each other a stern look, with expressions like: God, how do we get out of this?

The little thing woke up and was rubbing his eyes.He let out a big sticky yawn before he scrunched up his face and prepared to yell.He saw me looking at him and started kicking around with both feet.I got out the big shawl (the one my mother had christened me for in our dark little church), which I kept wrapped in cotton and kept in a drawer.The shawls had been left in there for so long that it was difficult to get rid of the mothball smell.I washed it five times and now it looks so white, clean and fresh under his dark skin. I said he was here, handing over the baby wrapped in a ball of lace to Hortens.I didn't give her a chance to tell me, she would be nervous.She was flustered, fiddling with gloves and straightening her coat.But, she took it.But, oh my god, she's really bad at hugging!Like holding a piece of cloth to be measured.I said: I will help you.I have to catch him again before he falls and she looks so unsure.I told her: Just bend your hands and shake them in your arms.She was too clumsy for me to watch.I said rudely to her: Haven't you ever held a baby?

She told me: Of course I did. It wasn't hard for me to openly offend her, but it worked.She moved, moving him into her arms until he rested like a baby on a woman's body. I told them both: he is a sweet baby.As precious as gold.No hassle at all. Hortens looked down at him, the exasperated pout still on her face.But she softened quickly.He has a way with anyone.With his flattering heart-shaped face, sparkling eyes, and perfectly arched mouth, it doesn't take long to look to melt even the coldest soul.She moved her head closer to him and said softly: Hello.This is a start.She looked up at me and hugged him back to me.

Oh no, he likes you.Listen, can you hear his voice?That means he's happy.Actually, I was worried that he was going to cry soon.I said: You hold him for a while.Then it dawned on him that Gilbert couldn't see him.Show him to Gilbert.Gilbert, come here.He got up from his seat and looked inside the shawl.I patted the shawl so he could see better.Hortens obeyed and moved the baby a little. Gilbert asked: Did you name him? I said: Michael. Hortens flinched.She looked up at me quickly, startling the baby.He started weeping.I said: Oh, be careful.Her big eyes were still on me.I asked her: Are you okay? Oh, it's okay.She put him back to comfort him.She shook him once.His whimpers had just subsided.She made sure he felt comfortable before saying to me: Michael is the name of someone I am very close to. Gilbert asked her: You have a brother named Michael, right? Yes, my brother.He was killed in the war. I said: Oh, I'm sorry about your brother.But it's a lovely name.I really like. She said: Yes, it is my favorite name. Gilbert said to her: Wait a minute, are you telling me Gilbert isn't your favorite name?Then wink at her when she smiles slightly. She looked down at the little thing again, softly repeating Michael twice, as if baptizing him with the name.I want to hug her and thank her for caring about his name.But I can't hug her, I just look around like an idiot and say stupid things about tea. Michel started whimpering again.She was ready to hand him back to me.She must have thought of something to make me bounce away from her like a flea?They both looked puzzled.Tea I must help Bernard prepare tea.I am leaving.Only instead of going into the kitchen, I went behind the door and watched her through the crack of the door.She was doing well: rocking softly in the crook of her lap while Gilbert looked down at him, carefully chewing on his fingers.What he said in her ear.I couldn't hear the soft murmur.She pouted at Michael, said something childish, and smiled.Gilbert did the same.They look good with him. What the hell are you doing?asked Bernard.He caught me spying on them, clamping my neck around the open door. I said: I will help you serve the plate.He wouldn't let go and we were still wrestling as we entered the door.Bernard slammed the plate on the table, and the milk spilled out of the jug.He continued to look back at the newspaper without even wiping the table.Grumpy guy.I poured out the tea and asked how much sugar and creamer was needed.Holtens wants two spoonfuls of sugar.Gilbert three spoons, leaving Bernard to squeak behind the newspaper.I pass the tea to Gilbert.But Holtens holds Michel and cannot hold the cup.I brought her her tea, not knowing how to get it into her mouth.I know she wants to give Michael back to me.She began to move awkwardly in the chair.There is no time and I must speak now. I asked her: Would you like to hug him? Puzzled by what I said, she said: I thought you might take the baby so I could have tea. I'll say it again: would you like to hug him? But I've held him, Mrs. Bligh. No, you don't understand, listen carefully.I'm still holding that nasty tea, the cup rattling on the saucer as I move my hand.I put the tea on the table and continued: Will you and Gilbert take him with you when you leave? Gilbert said: From where? this house.When you move.Would you like to take him with you? I have never seen such a deep frown.They both stared at me, trying to find some meaning or joke in my face.I got down on one knee.Take Gilbert's hands.He withdrew his hand, but I grabbed it again.Gilbert.I squeezed his hand tightly.Would you like to take him with you?Take care of him for me.Are you willing to take him away and take care of him? There was a silence in the room, and once they understood what I meant, they burst out like cannonballs.The two immediately questioned: What are you talking about?What do you mean what do you want? I turned to Hortens and pleaded.Now I'm on my knees.Take him away and raise him like your own son.Would you like to?Would you like to?please. Mrs. Bligh: That's all she can say. Hortens, please.I trust you and Gilbert.I know you.You are good people.I'm begging, I know, but I can't help it.She tried to hand Michael back to me.I pushed back, pushing the little thing back into her arms.Just then, I heard Bernard speak.Queenie, for God's sake, what are you doing?He stood up and stood beside me. Bernard, I want them to take him away. He's your kid, what are you talking about? Listen, Bernard, he needs a home.A nice home. He already has a home. What the hell is this stupid man talking about?I just want him to shut up.Shut his stinky mouth.What does this have to do with him?I yelled at him: Don't talk, Bernard.Did you hear that?Just don't talk. what are you thinkingHe was red as a berry and looked down at me with anger.I had to convince Hortens and Gilbert that he was going to thwart the trouble.He grabs me.Pull me up off the floor.Michel began to cry.Gilbert also stood up and told Bernard not to touch me, otherwise he would make him look good. I confront Bernard.Take a breath.I need someone to take care of him. You are his mother. I know, but I can't take care of him.Bernard, we can't take care of him.Can't you see it?I shake off his hand.Gilbert sat and I went back to my knees.Michel was still whimpering, and Hortens was whistling to silence him. And I heard Bernard say: why not? It was said so desperately that we all stared at him.Asking so sincerely made this sentence a joke.Doesn't he really know why two white guys can't raise a colored kid?I gasped, never expecting Bernard to question something so obvious. I can only come up with one thing to say: we cannot take care of him. Bernard asked: Why not? I thought I'd argue with Gilbert or Holtens.I couldn't believe my ears and I said, 'Because I don't know how to comb his hair, Bernard. But that's ridiculous.We'll figure it out. Bernard, what are you talking about? We will raise him up. Oh, is it?When he asks, how do we tell him?Say we left him too long in the sun one day and he turned black? There have been wars before.Various things happened.adopt.Let's just say adoption.is an orphan.Quite simple. Bernard had no right to be so reasonable.So righteous.So loving.can speak.He found something to say, but he didn't have to try to convince me of it now.Made me feel like I might be wrong.Because I'm not wrong I know I'm right.Ugh, I've never seen a hummingbird!Haven't even seen it in a book.Who's going to tell Michel what a hummingbird looks like? Bernard, he's black.I'm crying.Drank big salty tears.And he's not your son.This sentence shut him up.The blow made him fall back into his seat.I told him: Now he is still young and can't say anything. You may think you can, but what should he do when he grows up?A tall, burly black teenager.People snicker at you in the street and ask you all sorts of embarrassing questions.And are you going to stand up for him?And those neighbors who are decent neighbors in the suburbs, are you going to tell them to mind their own business?Other kids scold him, are you going to beat their daddy?Would you be proud of him and glad he is your son? Adoption, we might say.He spoke so softly.Really stupid. Bernard, one day he will do something naughty.And you'll look at him and think: Black little bastard.Because you will be angry.And he'll see it in your eyes.You're going to be mad at him for more than that.Because the neighbors never invite you.Because they whisper as you pass.Because they never thought you were as good as them.Because they think you and your family are weird.And all because you had a black kid.He was about to say something, but he opened his mouth but said nothing.That will kill you, Bernard.Have you thought about all this?Because I thought about it.I just think about these things all day.do you know?I have no guts.I thought I had.I should have, but I don't have the courage.No courage to fight.I admit.I can't face this and I'm his damn mother. Finally, I can turn to Gilbert and Hortens again.I told them: I must send him away.sent to an orphanage.I took Gilbert's hand again.This time he let me hold it.And they don't want him, you know black kids.I have to hold back my tears, I have to explain carefully.I choked on tears.The newspapers said they were going to send all the mixed-breed babies born after the war to the United States, mostly the blood of American soldiers.I giggled, but god knows why.Gilbert, can you imagine?Do you remember?Americans, they want Michael to sit in the back of the theater and watch a movie. Bernard turned his back on us.And I know why.It was seeing me kneeling in front of these black boys.He sighed.At least it sounded like a sigh. I continued: If I sent him to the orphanage, I would never know him again.Never again.And he won't know how much I love him.I don't know how much I want to be his good mother.They just stare at me.I must look pretty bad, I'm downright pathetic.You guys can let me know how he is doing.You can write to me and tell me.I know this is asking too much. Gilbert's perplexed eyes were asking questions. I said: If it is a question of money, I can give you money. Gilbert interrupts: No.Queenie, don't sell your children. Yes, yes, you are right.I just want him to be with someone who understands the pain.Can't you see it yet?his kind.But I'm willing to do whatever you want.It's all good.But you must say that you will take him.Michel started crying.I put my hands together.You know I'm begging you.But it's not for me.I confess to God, it's not for me.I know you can give him a better life.Don't say yes for me but for him.This is why I kneel, for the life of my dear little one.