Mostly White - Softcover

They beat me, I'll tell you that's what they did, at that school, they beat me, huh! School! If I spoke my language oooooh—those nuns would get so mad called it the devil's language and Sister Anne, oh she'd get out the switch—everyone's eyes in the class widen—turn to me.

I didn't care I was tough huh, I was too tough for them already eleven, and I didn't cry when they beat me. Tried to beat the Indian out of me, only good Indian is dead Indian, kill the savage kill the savage save the man...

Take me to the front of the class and with that switch smack smack smack until I bled. But they couldn't get to me I made myself real small so small no one could get to me it wasn't me they were beating they couldn't get to me.

"That's what any one of you will get if you speak the devil's language in here." Sister Anne props the switch by her desk. Silence in the room—I am a lump on the floor. I look at my brother, he is the only one that can see me that small pebble I've become, I see tears in his eyes.

Joe don't cry, silly Joe—you know she didn't get to me no—you know that little Joe, little Joe—

My head is face down. I can see the crack in the floorboards, smells like dust. Cold dust.

"Get up, you little nigger savage!" She sounds like a snake hissing.

Ssssssssssssssssavage.

"I said get up, you little nigger savage!"

I get up hissing Sssssssssssssssssssssss she is a snake Sssssssssssssss I stamp my foot bent low looking around the room. They know—the class knows, they want to join the dance, like we did back home, I hear them shift in their chairs—

Sssssssssssssssssssssss I move around the room, Sister Anne screams, "You come here, you little savage!"

Ssssssssssssssss I swerve past her, in between desks Ssssssssssssssssssss I head towards the door, the open door, looking for the snake. Why aren't the children holding my hands, so we could coil, coil up like a snake? I smell sage. I hear a rattle. I go towards the door.

"You come here right now!" She grabs the switch, stomps towards me, I turn towards the door, the children bang on desks—the beat—beat of the drum—the beat. Sister Anne catches me, grabs my arm. I hear footsteps, Sister Dorothy comes. "What is going on in here?"

"Quick, hold this little savage speaking the devil's language."

"Devil's language, is she?" Sister Dorothy clenches my arms—I’m bent down, foot stamping, looking for the snake—I hear the children banging the desks—pulse of the drum.

She holds me down one of them I don't know who I feel the switch over and over again—

Sssssssssssssssssss I say Sssssssssssssssssss—

They take me to the closet—

Ssssssssssssssssss

Throw me in the closet. Now I am in darkness but I can still hear the faint sound of the children beating their desks—the drum.

"It's that nigger Indian again, is it?" I hear Sister Dorothy through the door.

"The devil's in her, devil's in her blood, that one." Sister Anne spits out her words like venom.

"Let's see if this won't help." I hear a lock click.

"Keep her in for a good time this time."

"Yes, Sister Dorothy."

"Now tend to your class before those savages go on the warpath."

"Yes, Sister Dorothy." Her footsteps fade off.

I don't know how long they locked me in there that closet—days I don't know sunrise sunset sunrise? I don’t know. I soiled myself plenty, kept thinking of Joe and the rest of them beating their desks, some medicine. Back stings, back of my dress sticky—too much blood. Hear key in lock click open, light shoots to my eyes.

"You filthy beast you!" She grabs me, Sister Anne. I don't resist.

"Had to make a mess in there, did you?" She pulls my hair.

"Get those clothes off!" I don't move.

"You filthy beast, get them off!" She rips the dress off me, it tears skin off my back. I don't move. I feel blood trickle down my legs—she pulls me by the hair.

"Get in!" puts me in big metal basin pours cold water on me—she scrubs so hard my skin red red water red. "That will teach you to speak the devil's language in the Lord's house, this will teach you!"

When we first came, they scrubbed me and Joe scrubbed so hard Joe cried, then cut our hair short. What did they do with my hair me and Joe's hair? Fell to the ground in clumps—I wanted to scoop it up, I did from those mean Sisters, scoop it up and put it back on my head. Burned our clothes. Gave us new clothes white scratchy, smelled funny not soft like deer or sealskin. Scratchy. Maybe they burned our hair with the clothes. Spirit soaring to the sky.

How long Joe and I been here? One moon? Came to our house they did, came rounded up all of us—me my brother Joe, we didn't have a lot to eat not much those agents handed out. Papa trying to grow garden—hard soil tough soil Agent bring food. Mama died, she died of coughing sickness, my Mama black not Indian but she learned from Papa and his people. Aunt Julia came to help my Mama, her sister, she black too, but nobody could help my Mama, nobody could. Papa fish Papa hunt bring food when he can. Papa face sad since Mama died coughing disease his eyes look far away like he’s looking past us to some other world.

Papa try and stop men from taking us. Joe and I were playing in yard—then they came and took us.

"This one's dark." He grabs me. "Real dark Indian." Joe crying screaming trying to get away from other man's arms. They drag us to cart, howls of children crying—Papa comes out of house.

"Where you taking my children?"

Agent says, "All Indian children got to go to school."

"Where you taking them?" Papa crazed look in his eyes—never seen before—and he jumps on one of them then the other comes from cart he beats Papa with a stick beat him till I can't see Papa move—just lump on ground. Papa, please get up please please get up. Last time I seen of Papa—on the ground.

Me and Joe huddle in dark all children weeping sound of horse hooves on ground crack of whip. Time to civilize and educate Indians the agent said they put us in a boat to mainland Joe crying I'm holding him. We get to school the place we would unlearn our savage ways. That's when they stripped us scrubbed us cut our hair. Any time anyone speak Passamaquoddy smack of hand or lash with switch. We learn to speak without speaking.

"Get up and go to morning prayers!" Sister Anne commands. She shakes me—I’m cold—floor cold on my feet. I walk to church, all brown heads bowed in white clothing kneeling—

“Our Father who art in heaven hallow be thy name.” I kneel by Joe—Joedoesn't look up. "Thy Kingdom come thy will be done." I pinch his leg, he shoots a glance, I smile.

After Mass, breakfast. I'm so hungry one bowl of something lumpy I eat it anyways—always hungry at this place. We march in one at a time Sister Anne tapping switch in her hand—my back throbs.

I stare dazed in class words tumble out of Sister Anne's mouth like gurgling brook. I can't make sense of it. Am I here? Or my spirit somewhere else, disappeared through closet floorboards.

Joe stare at me rabbit fear in his eyes. I can't reach him. Chore time, scrubbing floor, sweeping, dusting, my body does it. Where am I? Lunch time. "Bless us O Lord and these gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord Amen." Some watery soup, my body eats it the children scared to talk to me afraid of beatings. Back to class more gurgling brook talk. More chores. Sister Anne's piercing voice: "Sweep that dirt in a pile first then sweep it in the dust pan. Don't you know how to sweep a floor?"

My body follows commands back to dinner, some stew. Night time prayers, we kneel beside bed all girls, booming voice of the Father we try to mimic his words he watches us with steel blue eyes.

"Oh, my God I am truly sorry for all my sins,

because I have offended Thee—

my God who art all good

and deserving of my love.

Forgive me my God and help me

never to sin again.

Have mercy on poor sinners,

especially those who wilt die this night

and those who have no one else to pray for them,

Amen."

Will I die? Will I die and go to hell? I look up, the Father stares at me, my spine shivers.

I am awake or asleep, someone heavy on me, it’s dark—

"You—you seductress I saw the way you looked at me." The Father whispers in my ear hand over my mouth. He lifts up the blanket something hard enters me he thrusts up and down up and down pain stabbing through my body—

"This is what happens to sinners!" The Father's thrusts become harder, faster—

I am dead, am I? I smell sweet grass the kind my mother used to hang. Something sticky wet down my legs.

"You savage seductress you made me do it." He leaves. I am frozen I am in the hell they speak of.

Morning prayer. Hard to walk. My spirit gone I am just body. We kneel say morning prayer. "Our Father who art in heaven hallow be thy name."

insides ache—

"Thy Kingdom come thy will be done"

I am just a body—

"on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread"

My spirit

"and forgive us our trespasses—"

Where are you?

"As we forgive those who trespass against us—"

Where are you?

"And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil—"

I must get you

"For thine is the Kingdom the power the glory"

back!

"forever and ever Amen."

The Father closes the bible and leaves, Sister Anne rushes us to breakfast. I see Joe, I whisper to him, "Joe, my spirit is gone I must find it today at lesson follow me." Joe nods his head, Sister Anne looks at me, I look down.

Sunlight through a window, door creaks open calls me to find my spirit. Sister Anne bounces switch in her hand all eyes on the switch—except me. My eyes on the door. She commands us to copy letters heads bent over slates, she walks up and down the aisle past me, past Joe.

My spirit calls me. I grab Joe's hand run towards the door her back is to us—we run—I hear yelling, I don't look back, me and Joe run—past the pasture, the outhouse into the woods—I hear bells ringing—I don't look back, hold tight to Joe. Someone is behind us, Joe trips—lets go—he screams they get him—I run, I scream, "Joe, Joe!"

He screams, "Run big sister run!"

"I will come back for you." I dash into trees I can't look back—my spirit calls—so fast I run I run until it's dark. I don't stop until I can't see.

They tie you up to a tree and leave you there oh Joe, Joe. The last one that tried to run, they caught and tied him to a tree. We couldn't talk to him, he stared back at us with lifeless eyes, until he couldn't stand no more. I rock back and forth under a tree, I rock, I hear an owl, tears stream down for Joe, I rock, listen for my spirit.

Bird Man

I wake up to coo of dove, time to keep moving. My stomach rumbles for food, I spot pink flowers ahead of me. My Mama and Aunties showed me how to dig up roots and find the nuts. I get a stick and dig out the thickest root of the vine, then pull it hard and out comes a necklace of round nuts. I brush them off, eat half and save the rest. I run to tall reeds of grass, sunlight bouncing off pointed edges, smell water. Come to edge of a riverbank and wait in sunlight, maybe my spirit is in the water, I drink from it, wait for the river to bring my spirit back.

I lay back on the rock, warm, river rushes past me. The warmth of stone heals my back, still feel Sister Anne's switch. I drift in dreamland—and I hear singing, some sad song, a man's voice.

"I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone."

I hear a voice rise from the river like some great bird. I wake up, I see a canoe, a man singing alone in a canoe.

"As she wheeled her wheelbarrow

through streets broad and narrow

crying cockles and mussels

alive alive O!"

I want his canoe. I start throwing rocks at this Bird Man, big rocks—

"Alive alive Oh—" He stops singing, looks around to where the rocks come from. I hide behind stone then throw one smack on back of his head—

that stops his singing―—

"Who’s there?" he hollers, he sees me, rock in hand. I keep throwing them, pelting him. He paddles the canoe to shore, I dart into tall reeds.

"Why are you throwing stones at me, lass? Is my singing that bad?" I throw another one, it hits his leg, he winces. He has boots on, is a white man with a funny way to speak. I throw another stone at him—he rushes towards me but I run to his canoe, he runs after me and catches me like I'm a fish—caught in his net arms. I struggle, kick, he is strong, he got me.

"Okay, lass, you want to go in the canoe, let's go in the canoe." He picks me up, drops me in, ties my hands behind me and paddles down the river. He starts singing again:

"Alive alive oh, oh alive alive Oh—crying cockles and mussels alive alive oh."

I look at him, I am a fish trapped—

"What, you're angry because you got no stones to throw?" He takes a drink from a bottle, it shines and reflects the sun—

Where are you, spirit? I am a fish now caught waiting for you. This strange man won't stop singing. I think of Joe, I think of the Father's blue eyes, Sister Anne's switch, the smell of the floorboards—I don't know it but I'm shaking, shaking and writhing about like a fish out of water. The singing man tries to stop me: "There, there, have some of this to calm you down." He offers me the bottle, I take it. I drink it, tastes awful. I drink more, my head feels light, my body warm—oh spirit have I found you?