Chapter 13 June 4, 1928 (1) (1)

June 4, 1928 (1) (1) I always say that if you are born a bitch, you will always be a bitch.I always say, too, you're lucky if all you worry about is her truancy.I said she should go down to the kitchen now instead of up in the bedroom upstairs with rouge all over her face and half a dozen niggers serving her breakfast if they weren't stomachs The bag was already so full of bread and meat that I didn't even bother to move my buttocks from the chair.Then the mother said: "But let the school authorities think I can't control her, that I can't—" "Come on," I said, "you can't control it, can you really control it? You never tried to restrain her," I said, "as of now, she is sixteen years old, what else can you do with her?" Sample?"

She pondered my work for a while. "However, let them think that... I didn't even know she got the report card. Last fall, she told me that the school will no longer issue report cards from this year. But just now Teacher Qiongjin called me and said If she misses one more class, she'll have to be expelled. How did she get away with it? Where can she go? You're in town all day, and if she's wandering up and down the street, you should see hers." "That's right," I said, "if she's wandering the streets. But I don't think she's playing truant just because she wants to do something that won't be seen."

"What do you mean by that?" she said. "Nothing interesting," I said. "I was only answering your question." And now she was crying again, murmuring that even her own flesh and blood had cursed her. "You asked me yourself," I said. "I didn't mean you," she said. "You're the only kid who didn't break my conscience." "That's right," I said, "I don't have time to condemn your conscience. I don't have a chance to go to Harvard like Quentin, or get drunk like Dad. I have to work." Yeah. But of course, if you want me to follow her and see if she's doing anything bad, I can quit my job at the store and get a job on the night shift. Then I'll watch her during the day, night shift You can call class ① to take care of it."

"I know, I'm just a burden and a burden to you," she said, sobbing on the pillow. "I don't know that yet," I said. "You've been saying things like that for thirty years. Even Benji should get it by now. Would you like me to talk to her about it?" "Do you think it will do any good?" she said. "It won't do any good if you intervene as soon as I start," I said, "and if you want me to rule her, just order, but don't interfere. Every time I try to do it, you Just interjected and messed up, and she ended up making fun of us both."

"You know, she's your relative," she said. "Yeah," I said, "that's exactly what I was thinking--kiss, or blood, I say. But if somebody acts like a nigger, it doesn't matter who he is, you have to deal with the nigger way to deal with him." ① What about the abbreviation of Bangui? "I'm afraid you're going to throw a tantrum at her," she said. "Okay," I said, "your method won't work very well either. Do you want me to take care of it or not? If you want it, you say yes, if you don't, you don't. I have to go to work."

"I know, you've suffered enough for us all these years," she said. "You understand that if my plan had come true, you would have had your own firm and lived like a Bascombe for a few days. Because, although your surname is not Bascomb , you're a Bascom at your core. I know if your father could have foreseen—" "Hmph," I said, "I think he's just like everyone else, he's got doubts." She sobbed again. "How could you be so mean about your dead father?" she said. "Okay," I said, "Okay. Do as you please! Since I don't have my own office, I have to go to my office and be my errand. So do you want me to talk to her?" what about?"

"I'm afraid you're going to be very angry with her," she said. "Well," I said, "then I'll just say nothing." "But something must be done!" she said. "Others will think that I let her play truant and wander the streets, or that I can't do anything about her...Jason, Jason," she said, "how can you leave me alone. How can you throw so much baggage at me." "Okay, okay?" I said, "You're going to torture yourself into sickness again later."Either lock her up all day, or stop worrying about her and leave her to me.Is it bad to do this? "

"She's my blood," she said, and she began to cry again, so I said: "Okay. I'll take care of her. Just stop crying, okay." "Don't get mad," she said. "She's still a child, remember." "No," I said, "I won't." I went out and closed the door behind me. "Jason," she said, and I didn't answer her.I walked along the side passage upstairs. "Jason," she called from behind the door.I kept walking downstairs.There was no one in the restaurant.Then I heard her ① voice in the kitchen.She wanted Dilsey to pour her another cup of coffee.I go into the kitchen.

"It's your school uniform, isn't it?" I said. "Or, maybe today is the day off?" "Just half a cup, Dilsey," she said. "please." "No, miss," Dilsey said. "I could give it to you. A seventeen-year-old girl should only have a drink, and Miss Caroline has taken care of it. You eat quickly, and put on your school uniform: you can take Jason's car into town. You are deliberately late again." "No, she won't," I said. "We'll get this sorted out right away." She looked at me, cup in hand.She brushed the hair back from her face with her hands, and her bathrobe slipped from her shoulders. "You put the glass down and come over here for a while," I said.

"What for?" she said. "Come on," I said, "put the glass in the sink and come here." "What are you up to, Jason?" Dilsey said. "You probably think you can beat Granny and everyone else, and you can beat me," I said, "but you're wrong. I'll give you ten seconds to put the glass in place as I tell you. " ① refers to Little Quentin. She stopped looking at me and turned her eyes to Dilsey. "What time is it, Dilsey?" she said. "Ten seconds up, you whistle. Give me another half coffee. Dilsey, please—"

I grabbed her arm.She let go of the cup.The cup fell to the floor and shattered.She stared at me and drew her arms back, but I held on tightly.Dilsey who was sitting in the chair is now standing up "You, Jason," she said. "Let me go," said Quentin, "or I'll slap you." "You want to slap, don't you?" I said, "You want to slap, don't you?" She slapped me across the face.I also caught that hand, and I thought she was a wild cat, and held her tightly. "You want to fan, don't you?" I said, "Do you think you can do it?" "You, Jason!" Dilsey said.I dragged her into the dining room.Her bathrobe was loose and fluttered around her, barely wearing anything underneath.Dilsey came stumbling forward.I turned around, stomped, and closed the door on her face. "You don't come in," I said. Quentin was leaning on the dining table, tying the strings of his bathrobe.I stared at her intently. "Okay," I said, "let me ask you, what do you mean, skipping school, lying to your grandma, forging her signature on the report card, making your grandma feel sick again. You What does it mean?" She said nothing.She buttoned her bathrobe up to her neck, pulled it tight around her body, and stared at me.She hadn't had time to apply rouge and lipstick yet, and her face looked as if it had just been wiped with a gun cloth.I went over and grabbed her wrist. "What do you mean?" I said. "None of your business," she said. "You let me go." Dilsey walked in the door. "Hi, Jason," she said. "Get out, do you hear me," I said without even turning my head. "I want to know where you stayed when you were playing hooky?" I said. "You didn't wander the streets, or I'd see you. Who were you hanging out with? With some slick boy hiding in the woods? Did you go?" "You—you old bastard!" she said.She struggled, but I held on to her. "You bloody old bastard!" she said. "I'm going to show you something awesome," I said. "You may be able to frighten an old woman away, but I want you to know who is killing you now." I grabbed her with one hand, and at this point, she stopped struggling and just looked at me, her The eyes widened and became jet-black. "What are you doing?" she said. "Wait, let me take the belt out, and then you'll see," I said, pulling the belt out.That's when Dilsey grabbed my arm. "Jason," she said, "you, Jason! Aren't you ashamed?" "Dilsey," Quentin said, "Dilsey." "I won't let him whip you," Dilsey said. "You don't have to be afraid, sweetie." She took my arm.At this time, the belt let me pull it out, and I shook her away with all my strength.She stumbled and fell on the table.She was too old to do anything but walk around with difficulty.But that's okay, anyway, someone in the kitchen needs to clean up the young people's leftovers.She staggered between us again, just trying to stop me. "Hit me if you want to," she said. "If you can't get angry without hitting someone, hit me," she said. "You think I'm afraid to fight?" I said. "I know you can do anything bad anyway," she said.At this moment I heard my mother coming downstairs, and I should have expected that she would not stand idly by.I let go.Quentin staggered toward the wall, still pulling his bathrobe tight. "Okay," I said, "let's put this aside, just don't think you can beat me. I'm not an old lady, or a half-dead nigger. You little slut!" I said. "Dilsey," she said, "Dilsey. I want my mother." Dilsey came to her side. "Well, well," she said, "he can't let him touch you as long as I'm here." Mother continued downstairs. "Jason?" she said, "Dilsey." " "Well, well," Dilsey said, "I won't let him touch you." She reached out to stroke Quentin, and Quentin opened hers. "You nasty black old woman," she said.She ran for the door. "Dilsey," Mother called from the stairs.Quentin brushed past her and ran upstairs. "Quentin," said the mother, "hey, Quentin." Still Quentin didn't stop.I could hear her footsteps up the stairs and down the hall.Finally, the door slammed. The mother had stopped just now, and now she continued to walk down. "Dilsey!" she said. "Hey," Dilsey said, "here I come. You go and wait by the gate," she said, "and take her to school later." "That's nothing to worry about," I said. "I'll take her to school, and I'll keep her from playing truant. I've started this matter, but I'm going to finish it." "Jason," my mother called from the stairs. "Go ahead," Dilsey said, walking toward the door. "Do you want her to get sick again? Here I come, Miss Caroline." I walk out of the room.I could still hear them talking on the doorstep. "Go back to bed," Dilsey was saying, "don't you know you're not well enough to get up? Come back to me, you. I'll see to it that the girl gets to school on time." I went out to the back yard to back out the car, and then I made a big detour until I got to the front door, and I finally found them, ① Refers to Luster and Bangui. "Didn't I tell you to put the spare wheel in the back of the car?" I said. "I don't have time," Luster said. "I won't be free until Grandma finishes her work in the kitchen and comes to see him." "Well," I said, "the whole kitchen is full of niggers at dinner time, and I have to feed them. You'll just follow him around the streets, and when I want to change a mussel, I'll have to do it myself." " "I can't find anyone to replace me!" he said.At this moment, Benji began to moan and whine. "Take him into the backyard," I said. "Why do you keep letting him stay here for people to exhibit?" Before he could growl, I told them to go away.It was bad enough on a Sunday when the field was full of people who didn't have a bad family to keep and six niggers to feed and beat a big mothball thing all over the place.Every time he saw them coming, he would run up and down the fence, yelling.If it goes on like this, I'll have to be made to pay the court rent, and Mother and Dilsey will have to find some china croquet balls and a cane to pretend to play in order to coax Benji, or else let me play at night. Ben lit a lantern to call Benji.If it were to happen, someone might send our whole family to Jackson's lunatic asylum.God knows, if such a thing really happened, they would hold "Hometown Week" to celebrate it. I went back to the garage in the back yard.The tire was against the wall, but I didn't want to fix it myself.I backed the car out and turned around.She is standing by the driveway.I say: "I know you don't have any books left. I'd like to know where you got them? Maybe you think I'm nosy. Of course I'm not in a position to ask," I said, "But, I was the one who paid eleven dollars and sixty-five cents for these books last September. " ①"Old Home Week" is a custom in the United States. Whenever there is something worth celebrating, relatives and friends who used to live together are invited to have a happy gathering for a week. "My mother paid for my books!" she said. "I don't need a penny of your money. If I really need to use your money one day, I'd rather starve to death." "Really?" I said. "Talk these words to grandma and see how she responds. You don't seem to be naked," I said, "although the area covered by the thing you painted on your face is better than that on your whole body." Clothes cover more." "Do you think these things cost you or grandma a penny?", "Ask your grandma!" I said. "Ask her what happened to those checks. As far as I remember, you saw her burn one." She wasn't listening at all, her rouge was so thick it stuck her face, The eyes are also like a vicious dog, staring blankly. "If these clothes really cost you or grandma a penny, you know what I'm going to do?" she said, putting a hand on the clothes. "What are you going to do?" I said. "Shouldn't you be in a bucket with no clothes on?" "I'd tear off all my clothes right away and throw them in the street!" she said. "You do not believe?" "Of course you can do it," I said. "You do it all the time." "You think I dare not," he said.She grabbed the collar with both hands, as if she was about to tear it off. "You dare to tear it," I said, "and I'll give you a whip that you'll never forget." "You say I dare not," she said.At this time, I saw that she was really going to tear it off, she really wanted to tear off all the clothes.When I stopped the car and grabbed her hand, there were already a dozen people watching.I was so angry that I couldn't see anything for a split second. "If you do that again, I'll make you regret your coming!" I said, "I'm regretting it now!" she said.She went crazy, and then her eyes got weird, and I said to myself, if you cry in this car, on the street, I'll slap you too.I'm going to beat you to death.Luckily she didn't cry, so I let go of her wrist and drove on.Luckily there was an alley near us, from which I turned into a back street so as not to pass by the square.Tents had been pitched on Bee's lot.The troupe gave me two coupons for posters in our windows, and Al gave me both.Quentin was sitting in the car, turning his head away, biting his lip. "I'm regretting it now!" she said. "I don't understand why I was born into this world." "As far as I know, there's at least one other person who doesn't understand why!" I said.I parked the car in front of the school.The bell had just rang, and the last few students were making their way in. "You've never been late once," I said. "Do you go in and sit in the classroom by yourself, or do I have to send you in and force you to sit?" She got out of the car and slammed the door. "Remember what I said!" I said. "I mean what I say. If you let me hear that you play truant again, wandering the back streets with some oily bachelor..." She turned her head when she heard this. "I didn't wander around," she said. "What I did, you just go and investigate." "What you did is well known," I said. "Everybody in this town knows what you are. But I won't let you do that again, you hear? Personally, I don't give a damn what you do, but I'm a place in this town, and I can Can't let anyone in my family fuck like a black person. Did you hear what I was doing?" "I don't care," she said, "I'm bad, I'm going to hell anyway, I don't care. I'd rather go to hell than be in the same place as you." ①A family in Jeff's main town, the large tent of the theater troupe is set up in the open space of his house. ②The owner of the grocery store, Jason's boss. "Just one more time for me to hear that you played truant, and you'll wish you were in hell," I said.She turned her head and ran across the open space at the school gate. "Just one more time, you remember," I said.She didn't even turn her head. I went to the post office, picked up the mail, and drove to the store and parked the car.Al watched me when I entered the store.I gave him a chance to complain about my being late, but all he said was: "The cultivators have arrived. You'd better go and help Uncle Job install them." I went out to the backyard where old Job was uncrating the crates at the rate of three bolts an hour. "You should really be working for our family," I said. "Every bad nigga in town eats in my kitchen." "I just work for whoever pays me on Saturday night," he said. "I don't have time to please people after I've looked at this end." He unscrewed a nut. "Everybody in the hell works slack except weevils," he said. "You should be glad you're not one of the weevils these cultivators are dealing with," I said, "otherwise, if they didn't run you over, you'd be dying of cotton yourself." "That's true," he said, "weevils are hard enough. You have to work in the hot sun, seven days a week, in the sun or in the rain. You can't sit on the front porch and watch watermelons." Growth, Saturday means nothing to them." "I'd pay you," I said, "and Saturday wouldn't be any fun. Just get the machine out of the crate and lug it into the shop." I opened her letter first and took out the check.After all, a woman is a woman, and it was six days too late.But they still want to convince men that they can do things.If the man is changed, if the sixth day of a month is regarded as the first day, how long do you think his business can last?And that's not the only weird thing, when they sent the bank statements she wanted to know why I didn't deposit my paycheck until the sixth.Women never understand why. ① A cotton pest. I wrote about Quentin's new Easter clothes, but got no reply.Are the clothes received correctly?Nor did I hear from her in reply to my last two letters.Although the check in the second letter was the same as the one in the first letter, both have been cashed.Is she sick?Hope to let you know immediately, otherwise I will come to visit her in person.You promised to let me know if she needs anything, and I hope you will write to me before the tenth.No, you'd better telegraph me right away.You must be opening my letter to her right now.I know this as well as I have seen it with my own eyes.You'd better telegraph me immediately at the address below and tell me how she is doing. At this moment, Al yelled at Job, so I put the letter away and ran out to tell Job to cheer up, don't be so half-dead, this country should hire more white laborers.Let these useless niggers starve for two years and they'll see what useless loose bags they are. When it was almost ten o'clock, I ran to the front.There is a traveling salesman in the shop.It was two minutes before ten and I asked him to go out into the street for a Coca-Cola.We chatted and talked about the harvest. "There's no good in farming," I said. "Cotton has become an object of speculation for merchants. They put farmers in high hopes and coax farmers into growing cotton so that they themselves can make waves in the market and crush the amateurs." Novice, tell me, what else can farmers earn besides sunburned necks and bent waists? Do you think that besides making ends meet, farmers who work hard on the land can get an extra penny?" I said . "Too much, cheap, cotton not even worth picking, and not enough cotton to feed the gin. And what's it for? Just for a handful of jerks in the East, I'd rather Not the Judaizers," I said, "I know some Jews too, and they're pretty decent citizens. Maybe you're one of those people," I said. "No," he said, "I'm an American through and through." "Don't be surprised," I said. "I treat everyone equally, regardless of his religion or other aspects. I have nothing against Jews as individuals," I said. "It's just a race issue. You have to admit they don't produce anything. They follow the pioneers to a new country and sell them clothes and make their money." "You mean the Armenians," he said, "don't you? There's no need for pioneers to wear new clothes anyway." "Don't be surprised," I said. "I have nothing against anyone's religion." "Naturally," he said. "I'm an American through and through. I have a little bit of French blood in my blood, which is why my nose looks like that. I'm an American, that's right. "I'm American too," I said. "There aren't many of us left. I was just yelling at those who sit in New York and play the game of big fish eating small fish." "Exactly," he said. "Poor people can't play this game. There should be a law against it." "Do you think my life makes sense?" I said. "That makes sense," he said, "I think you're right. Farmers always lose money no matter what." "Of course I'm right," I said. "You've got to lose that game, unless you get the tip from someone who knows the inside. I happen to know a few guys who are in the business, and they have a big New York speculator on their pawns." Counselor. I'm a guy," I said, "never bet on one place. It's the kind of guy who's got three bucks and wants to win the whole house. That's the business he's in. It's designed to take advantage of these people." At this moment, the clock struck ten.I'm going to the telegraph office.The door of the telegraph office was just ajar, as they used to say.I went to the corner and took out the telegram again in order to check it.I was reading the telegram and there was a business report.The market price has risen by two "points"①, and everyone is buying, and I can hear it from the noise of their voices.Everyone is rushing to the boat.It seems that they don't understand that this ship is on the road to destruction.It seems that there is such a law or written regulation that everything except buying is not allowed.Yes, I figured those Eastern jews had to live their lives.However, it is really uncomfortable that any stinky foreigner can come to the United States to make a living and take money out of American pockets as long as he can't get along in his hometown.Another two "points" up.This is the four "points".But damn it, my advisers are right and know how to do it.Why should I pay them ten dollars a month if I don't take their advice.I walked out of the telegraph office, but remembering that, I went back to telegraph. "It's safe and sound. Q② I'll write to you today." "Q?" said the operator. "Yes," I said, "Q. Can't you write Q?" "I just wanted to ask for clarification," he said. "You sent it just as I wrote it, sure enough," I said. "Make the recipient pay." "What's your telegram, Jason?" said Dr. Wright, looking over my shoulders. "Is it the ciphered telegram that takes care of Chijin? ①The original text is point, which is the calculation unit of securities and commodity market prices, and is also translated as "pound sound". ②This is a telegram to Katie, "Q" refers to little Quentin. ③This is a local cotton speculator. "Forget it," I said. "But you guys use your wits and judge. You're smarter than those New Yorkers." "Oh, sure," said the doctor, "if the cotton goes up two cents a pound, I'll save a lot of money this year." Here comes a new market.Down by one "point". "Jason was throwing," said Hopkins. "Look at his expression." "Don't mind what I do," I said. "You guys judge for yourselves. Those rich jews in New York are just as good as everybody else, anyway," I said. I walk back to the store.Al was busy in the front shop, and I went right up to the desk behind the counter; reading Loren's letter. "Dad Daddy, I wish you were here. We're not having a party when Daddy isn't here. I miss my sweet Daddy so much." I figured she was supposed to miss me too.I gave her forty dollars last time.Gave her forty.I never make any promises to a woman, nor let her know what I intend to give her.This is the only way to deal with women.Always hang their appetite.If you can't think of anything else to do to surprise them, just punch them in the jaw. I tore up the letter and set it on fire on the spittoon.I set a principle for myself: never keep a piece of paper from a woman, and I never write to them.Loren kept pestering me to write her a letter, but I said that if I forgot something, it would not be too late when I came back to Memphis, but I said, if you write me a few words in an ordinary envelope later, It doesn't matter if you do, if you really call me, then I'm sorry, Memphis is too big to accommodate you, a little woman.I said that I came to you just as the last of my buddies who came to play with women, and I don't allow any woman to call me me.Here, I said, handing her forty dollars, and if you ever get too drunk and want to call me, you just remember my words, count from one to ten before dialing the number, and think about it consider. ①An idler who often stays in the telegraph office. ② Loren is Jason's mistress, living in Memphis.