Juneteenth: A Novel by Ralph Ellison; Charles Johnson

Author:Ralph Ellison; Charles Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: classics
ISBN: 9780307797360
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Then she said, “There!” and he saw the melon come gleaming from the well and she reached out and pulled it over to the side, setting the bucket on the rim. He could hear it dripping a quiet wet little tune far below as she removed it from the bucket.

“It’s a mystery to me how you manage to remember so much, Revern’ Bliss—Lord, but this sure is a heavy one we got us tonight! Come on over here where we can sit down.”

So he followed her over the bare ground and sat on the floor of the porch beside the wet, cold melon, his feet dangling while she went into the kitchen. Behind him he could hear the opening of a drawer and the rattling of knives and forks; then she was back holding a butcher knife, the screen slamming sharply behind her.

She said, “Would you like to cut the melon, Revern’ Bliss?”

“Yes, mam, thank you, mam.”

“I thought you would,” she said. “The men always want to do the cutting. So here it is, let’s see how you do it.”

“Shall I plug it, mam?” he said, taking the knife.

“Plug it? Plug this melon that I know is ripe? Listen to that,” she said, thumping it with her fingers.

“Daddy Hickman always plugs his melons,” he said.

“All right, Revern’ Bliss, if that’s the way it has to be, go ahead. I guess Revern’ has plugged him quite a few.”

And he took the knife and felt the point go in hard and deep to the width of the blade; then again, and again, and again, making a square in the rind. He felt the blade go deep and deep and then deep and deep again. Then he removed the blade, just like Daddy Hickman did and stuck the point in the middle of the square and lifted out the wedge-shaped plug, offering it to her.

“Thank you, Revern’ Bliss,” she said with a smile in her voice, and he could hear the sound of the juice as she tasted it.

“See there, I knew it was ripe,” she said. “You try it.”

It was cold and very sweet and the taste of it made him hurry. He cut two lengthwise pieces then, saying, “There you are, mam,” and watched her lift them out, giving him one and taking the other.

And they sat there in the dark with the orange blossoms heavy around them, eating the cold melon. He tried spitting the seeds at the fireflies, hearing them striking the hard earth around the porch and the fireflies still blinking. Then Sister Georgia stopped eating.

“Revern’ Bliss,” she said, “I don’t think we want to raise us any crop of melons this close to the porch, do you? ’Cause after all, they’d just be under our feet and getting squashed all the time and everything.”

“No’m, I don’t guess we do and I’m sorry, mam.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Revern Bliss. You care for some salt?”

“No’m, I like it just like it is.”

“You really like it?”

“Oh yes, mam! It’s ’bout the sweetest, juiciest melon I ever et.

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