You think you’re the only woman that’s happened to?
He thought I would get in. I went up there with him. Moses said I would go somewhere with a man. It wasn’t a dream. He kept me there. He kept his hands on me.
It was just because he kept you up in that room and kept his hands on you that you killed him?
He kept thinking I was that kind of a woman. Always. They would, wouldn’t they. Always. No matter what I. Just because the places I went, the way I talked or how I wore my hair. Any woman’s talk. You know. So he came and sat down. I wasn’t going to nobody else. But he thought I would. After he left me or I left him. He thought I was. The way he was looking at me. James wouldn’t let me have no telephone. When he was sitting on that bed, the way he was looking at me. He came in the house. I was sitting there in the dark. I scared him. He didn’t have to be scared. He could have said anything to me anytime. Every man could look at me the way he was looking. They all would. Even when I. He thought I was his.
Who?
He wouldn’t let me comb my hair. I could go anywhere I wanted to. I left him and went to work at Southwestern Tobacco Company, P. Lorillard. I forget. I rode the bus over there. It was a long time ago. Then I wasn’t no man’s woman. They took me right on. I knew he would come over and I’d get up and go with him.
He didn’t seem to be the kind of man a woman could . . . care about.
I did.
Did you really?
Yes. Why?
I don’t know.
He wasn’t a very attractive man.
Yes he was.
Not the way you described him to me.
Yes he was.
You’re an attractive woman, but he wasn’t a very attractive man.
He was. I told you how it was. He wasn’t just . . . fucking me. I told you.
No, Eva. The way you told it that was all he was doing.
No . . . He told me things. He told me things too. I learned from him.
What?
I can’t remember. Things he said.
Where are you now?
Here.
I mean in your mind. Here.
With me? Yes.
You don’t remember everything that happened.
Yes I do.
You said you didn’t remember.
No.
You don’t remember the thing that happened that made you kill him.
It was his whole way. Describe it.
I did.
Tell me again.
I’m tired.
Take your head out of your hands.
I bit down till the blood came.
Did you want to?
No.
Did you want to do anything you did?
Yes, I.
What kind of man was he?
I told you.
Tell me again.
He drank it and then he called me a bitch.
You called him a bastard.
I have something I want to write down on that paper you gave me. Leave me alone.
Tell me.
It was his whole way. Can’t you understand that? Can’t you?
All right.
Let me go out there with you.
You said you didn’t want to go.
He saw me the same way. I knew what he was doing.
Here, take this.
Did you hear what I said? I knew. I knew.
And you took everything. And . . .
Don’t explain me. Don’t you explain me. Don’t you explain me.
Don’t look at me that way.
You don’t talk much.
Davis, don’t look at me that way. Why, what way am I looking?
Naw.
Come over here. What?
I like you.
. . .
Talk to me. I never seen a woman look at me like that. The way you were looking when you were telling me not to look at you.
How?
Like you could kill me. Like you could just kill me, baby.
Kill you this way.
I like you a lot, Eva. I like you a whole lot.
You’ve got your heart in your knees.
What? Come closer.
Yes.
What did he do to you, Eva?
I don’t know. How should I know. I don’t know. I don’t know. That was all I could do.
What was all you could do?
But I won’t hurt you.
Eva?
I said I won’t hurt you.
Eva?
What?
You seem like a lonely woman.
No.
All that blood you raised. Come over here.
No.
What’s your name?
Eva. I been a lot of places. I been in New Orleans. I been out in New Mexico.
You lying.
No I’m not. I been just about everywhere.
You seem like a lonely woman.
You thought you were a bad woman, so you went out and got you a bad man.
Don’t explain me.
And then you . . . Matron? Matron! Hold her! Hold her!
I hold up my arms.
“You have blood on you,” I say.
“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you, woman?” he says.
“You have blood on you.”
I open my fingers. I see a slop jar in the corner of the room. Two glasses of water.
“Whereabouts you from, lady?”
“Whereabouts.”
“Swallow me. Swallow me up. I know what kind of woman you are.”
“Naw you don’t.”
“I do.”
I kiss his neck and mouth.
“I like the way you wear your hair, but I forgot your name.”
“Eva.”
“Are your breasts sore?”
“Naw.”
“Sometimes women’s breasts gets sore around this time.”
“Mine don’t.”
“Put your head in my lap.”
“I’m not tired.”
He laughs. He hands me money.
“You know you the woman. Kill him, but don’t make him bleed.” He holds my shoulders. “I said kill him, but don’t make him bleed. How long has it been?”
“Two years.”
“How long?”
“Five years.”
“I like you, Eva. I like you a lot.”
“Do you care about me?”
“Yes.”
I open my fingers.
“I can’t do it, Davis.”
“Come on, woman.”
He laughs. He holds my shoulders again.
“Do you care about me? . . . You not talking? How long has it been, woman?”
I look at him. I kiss him. “A long time.”
“What did I do for you, Eva? What did you feel?”
“Everything.”
He pushes my face into his lap. He combs my hair with his long fingers. I am
