Jackson advocate. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1939-current, 1942-03-28
son
BY RICHARD WRIGHT

He would have to lift her again.
He stopped and caught her should
ers and lifted her in his arms. He
went to the door of the furnace
and paused. The fire seethed.
Ought he to put her in head or
feet first? Because he was tired
and scared, and because her feet
were nearer, he pushed her in feet
first. The heat blasted his hands.
He had ali but her shoulders
in He looked into the furnace;
her clothes were ablaze and
smoke was filling the interior
SO that he could scarcely see.
The draft roared upward, drOn-
ing in his ears. He gripped
her shoulders and pushed hard
but the body would not go any
further. He tried again, but her
head. still remained out. Now.
He wanted TO strike something
with his fist. What could he do?
He stepped back and looked.
A noise made him Whirl; two
green burning pools-pools Of ac-
cuSation and guiIt-stared at him
from white blur that sat perched
upon the edge Of the trunk. His
mouth opened in a silent scream
and his body became hotly paralyZ-
ed. 1t was the white cat and its
round green eyes gazed past him
at the white face hanging limply
from the fiery furnace door. God!
He closed his mouth and swallow
ed. Should he catch the cat and
kill it and put it in the furnace,
too? He made a move. The cat
stood up; its white fur bTistled;
its bac karched. He tried to grab
it and it bounded past him with a
long wall of fear and scampered
up the steps and through the door
and out of sight. Obi He had left
the kitchen door open. That was
it. He closed the door and stood
again before the furnace, think
ing. Cats can't talk.
He got his knife from his pocket
and opened it and stood by the
furnace, looking at Marys throat
Could he do it? He had to. Would
there be blood? Oh, Lord He look
ed round with a haunted and
pleading look in his eyes. He saw
pile OF old newspapers stacked
carefully in corner. He got a
thick wad of them and held them
under the head. He touched the
sharp blade to the throat, just
touched it, as if expecting the
knife to cut the flesh of itself as
if he, did not have to put pressure
behind ii Wistfully, he gazed at the
edge Of the blade resting on the
skin; and cleaning mental reflect
ed the trernulous fury of the Goals
Yes; he had TO. Gently, he sawed
the blade into the flesh and struck
a bone. He gritted his teeth ano
cut harder AS yet there was nc
blood anywhere but on the knife
But the bone made it difficult
Sweat crawled down his back
Then blood crept onward in wild.
enlng circles of pink on the news
papers, spreading quickly now
He whacked at the bone with the
knife. The head hung Imply or
the newspapers, the curly black
hair dragging about in blood. He
whacked harder, but the heaC
would not come off.
He paused, hysterical.' He want
ed to run from the basement ant
go as far as possible from The
sight of this bloody throat But he
could not. He must not. He had Il
burn this girl. With eyes glazed
with nerves tingling with excite
ment, he looked about the base
ment. He saw Ratchet. Yes! Thai
would do it, He spread neat layer
of newspapers beneath the head
at a slanting angle with his left
hand and, after pausing in an at.
titude of prayer, sent the blade Of
| the Ratchet into the bone of the
| tbroo} until, oil tho ctroroOt1 nf hi,