Daughters of Jubilation by Kara Lee Corthron

Author:Kara Lee Corthron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2020-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

16 Two-Headed

LATER, AFTER MOST A THE guests have gone home, I try to help out with the cleanin’ up. Clay’s aunts and cousins seem to like me. They say “Thank you, baby” or “Don’t you have good manners?” It’s different with Clay’s mother. She thanks me, but it’s outta obligation.

“Thank you, Evalene,” she says with a crisp formality. “Don’t you think it’s gettin’ late?”

It’s not even half past nine, but I nod, since she clearly wants me to leave.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m just gonna find Clay and say good-bye.”

He’s not hard to find. As soon as I enter the living room, I see him there, perched on the arm of a couch, talkin’ to Miss Corinthia. It looks like they’re havin’ a serious conversation.

“Excuse me?”

They both look up at me.

“I don’t think you two met properly. Aunt Corinthia, this is Evalene. My girlfriend,” Clay says to her.

“Very pleased to meet you, ma’am,” I say. I’m doin’ my best to ignore the jittery feeling I get when she looks into my eyes. “Happy birthday.”

“Birthday. Yes. It might be today. Mighta been yesterday. Mighta been. A week ago. They decided. This would be. The day.”

“She didn’t get a birth certificate, so her family had to estimate when she was born,” Clay translates. “Everybody seems certain that it was 1862 and summertime. They just don’t know which day.”

“A hundred years. Long time,” she says. She still pauses every few words to catch her breath, but she doesn’t seem to take as long to do it now as she did earlier.

“It certainly is,” I agree.

Her eyes twinkle. “Two-headed women. Will always. Spot. Each other.”

“Two-headed,” Clay repeats, and looks at me, adding things up in his head.

“I was a baby. When. Emancipation came,” she begins. “I don’t remember. I was too small. To be. Much use. But I was born. In bondage.”

I concentrate on listening to her. I push the nervous energy away. This moment is too important for my own screwy jubin’ to mess it up.

“It’s a tool. What we. Have. Evalene. Survival. Tool. My mother. She—” Miss Corinthia stops suddenly.

“Miss Corinthia? Are you all right?” I ask her.

“Lemme get you some water.” Clay dashes off to the kitchen.

Miss Corinthia reaches her weakened, deformed hand over to mine. I attempt to hold her hand, cuz I think that’s what she wants, but she draws back from that. She places it on top of mine, and, with the one finger she can maneuver, she strokes the skin covering my knuckles.

“She told me. Magic. Saved. Her life. And mine. When I was. Just born.” She stops to take a few breaths, but I don’t breathe. This is far more talking than I’ve seen her do all night, and I don’t wanna break our connection.

“Her labor. Was long. Violent. I faced. The wrong way. Overseer was told. Cut her throat. Drown the baby. In the sea.”

I gasp and shiver, but Miss Corinthia continues stroking my hand, which calms me.

“Master thought. I’d be born. Broken or dead. He thought. My mother.

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