James, p.1
James, page 1
ALSO BY PERCIVAL EVERETT
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Trout’s Lie
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2024 by Percival Everett
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Doubleday, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York, and distributed in Canada by Penguin Random House Canada Limited, Toronto.
www.doubleday.com
DOUBLEDAY and the portrayal of an anchor with a dolphin are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Cover illustration © Smith Collection / Gado / Getty Images
Cover design by Emily Mahon
Library of Congress Control Number 2023012817
ISBN 9780385550369 (hardcover)
Ebook ISBN 9780385550376
ISBN 9780385550888 (export edition)
ep_prh_6.3_146464160_c0_r0
For Danzy
Contents
Cover
Also by Percival Everett
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
The Notebook of Daniel Decatur Emmett
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Part Two
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Part Three
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Acknowledgments
About the Author
_146464160_
THE NOTEBOOK OF
DANIEL DECATUR EMMETT
I come to town de udder night,
I hear de noise, den saw de sight,
De watchmen dey be runnin’ roun’
Cryin’ Ole Dan Tucker come to town.
Git outen de way, Git outen de way,
Git outen de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
You’s too late to come yo supper.
Sheep an’ hog a walkin’ in de pasture,
Sheep says, “Hog can’t you go no faster?”
Hush! Hush! Honey de wolf growlin’,
Ah, ah, de Lawd, bull dog growlin’,
Git outen de way, Git outen de way,
Git outen de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
You’s too late to come yo supper.
Here’s my razor in good order,
Magnum bonum-jis hab bought ’er,
Sheep shell oats, an’ Tucker shell de corn,
I ’ll shabe ye soon as de water gits warm.
Git outen de way, Git outen de way,
Git outen de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
You’s too late to come yo supper.
Jay bird in de martin’s nest,
To sabe his soul, he got no rest,
Ole Tucker in de fox’s den,
Out come de young ones nine or ten.
Git outen de way, Git outen de way,
Git outen de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
You’s too late to come yo supper.
I went to de meetin’ de udder day,
To hear Ole Tucker preach and pray;
Dey all got drunk, but me alone,
Make Ole Tucker walk jaw bone.
Git outen de way, Git outen de way,
Git outen de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
You’s too late to come yo supper.
Old Zip Coon
I went down to Sandy Hook to-der ar-ter noon;
I went down to Sandy Hook to-der ar-ter noon;
I went down to Sandy Hook to-der ar-ter noon;
And de fust man I met dere was old Zip Koon.
Old Zip Koon is a very larned scholar,
Old Zip Koon is a very larned scholar,
He plays on the Banjo Konney in de hollar.
Did you ever see de wild goose sail upon de ocean;
Did you ever see de wild goose sail upon de ocean;
Did you ever see de wild goose sail upon de ocean;
O de wild goose motion is a very pretty notion,
For when de wild goose winks de beckon to de swallor,
And den de wild goose hollor, google, google, gollor.
If I was president of dese United States;
If I was president of dese United States;
If I was president of dese United States,
I ’d suck ’lasses candy and swing open de gates;
And dose I didn’t like I ’d block ’em off de docket,
And de way I ’d block um wou’d be a sin to Crockett.
Turkey in the Straw
As I was goin’ down the road,
A tired team an’ a heavy load,
I crack’d my whip and the leader sprung
And says day-day to the wagon tongue.
(Chorus )
Turkey in the straw, turkey in the hay;
Dance all nighty and work all day;
Roll ’em up and twist ’em up a-high tuck-a-haw,
And hit ’em up a tune call’d Turkey in de Straw.
Oh I went out to milk and I didn’t know how,
I milked a goat instead of a cow,
A monkey sittin’ on a pile of straw,
A wink in his eye at his mother-in-law.
(Chorus )
Turkey in de hay, turkey in de straw;
The old gray mare won’t gee nor haw;
Roll ’em up and twist ’em up a-high tuck-a-haw,
And hit ’em up a tune call’d Turkey in de Straw.
The Blue-Tail Fly
When I was young I used to wait
On my massa and give him his plate,
And pass de bottle when he got dry,
And brush away the blue-tail fly.
(Chorus )
Jimmie crack corn and I don’t care,
Jimmie crack corn and I don’t care,
Jimmie crack corn and I don’t care,
My massa’s gone away.
And when he’d ride in de afternoon,
I ’d follow after with a hickory broom,
The pony being rather shy,
When bitten by a blue-tail fly.
(Chorus )
One day he ride around de farm,
De flies so num’rous they did swarm,
One chanc’d to bite him in de thigh,
De devil take de blue-tail fly.
(Chorus )
De pony run, he jump, he pitch,
He threw my massa in de ditch;
He died and de jury wonder’d why,
De verdict was de blue-tail fly.
(Chorus )
Dey lay him under a ’simmon tree;
His epitaph is dere fo to see;
“Beneath this stone I ’m forced to lie,
A victim of the blue-tail fly.”
PART
ONE
CHAPTER 1
THOSE LITTLE BASTARDS were hiding out there in the tall grass. The moon was not quite full, but bright, and it was behind them, so I could see them as plain as day, though it was deep night. Lightning bugs flashed against the black canvas. I waited at Miss Watson’s kitchen door, rocked a loose step board with my foot, knew she was going to tell me to fix it tomorrow. I was waiting there for her to give me a pan of corn bread that she had made with my Sadie’s recipe. Waiting is a big part of a slave’s life, waiting and waiting to wait some more. Waiting for demands. Waiting for food. Waiting for the ends of days. Waiting for the just and deserved Christian reward at the end of it all.
Those white boys, Huck and Tom, watched me. They were always playing some kind of pretending game where I was either a villain or prey, but certainly their toy. They hopped about out there with the chiggers, mosquitoes and other biting bugs, but never made any progress toward me. It always pays to give white folks what they want, so I stepped into the yard and called out into the night,
“Who dat dere in da dark lak dat?”
They rustled clumsily about, giggled. Those boys couldn’t sneak up on a blind and deaf man while a band was playing. I would rather have been wasting time counting lightning bugs than bothering with them.
“I guess I jest gwyne set dese old bones down on dis heah porch and watch out for dat noise ’gin. Maybe dere be sum ol’ demon or witch out dere. I’m gwyne stay right heah where it be safe.” I sat on the top step and leaned back against the post. I was tired, so I closed my eyes.
The boys whispered excitedly to each other, and I could hear them, clear as a church bell.
“Is he ’sleep already?” Huck asked.
“I reckon so. I heard niggers can fall asleep jest like that,” Tom said and snapped his fingers.
“Shhhh,” Huck said.
“I say we ties him up,” Tom said. “Tie him up to dat porch post what he’s leaning ’ginst.”
“No,” said Huck. “What if’n he wakes up and makes a ruckus? Then I gets found out for being outside and not in bed like I’m supposed to be.”
“Okay. But you know what? I need me some candles. I’m gonna slip into Miss Watson’s kitchen and get me some.”
“What if’n you wake Jim?”
“I ain’t gonna wake nobody. Thunder can’t even wake a sleepin’ nigger. Don’t you know nuffin? Thunder, nor lightning, nor roarin’ lions. I hear tell of one that slept right through an earthquake.”
“What you suppose an earthquake feels like?” Huck asked.
“Like when you pa wakes you up in the middle of the night.”
The boys sneaked awkwardly, crawled knees over fists, and none too quietly across the complaining boards of the porch and inside through the Dutch door of Miss Watson’s kitchen. I heard them in there rifling about, opening cabinet doors and drawers. I kept my eyes closed and ignored a mosquito that landed on my arm.
“Here we go,” Tom said. “I gone jest take three.”
“You cain’t jest take an old lady’s candles,” Huck said. “That’s stealin’. What if’n they blamed Jim for that?”
“Here, I’ll leave her this here nickel. That’s more’n enough. They won’t ’spect no slave. Where a slave gonna git a nickel? Now, let’s git outta here befo’ she shows up.”
The boys stepped out onto the porch. I don’t imagine that they were hardly aware of all the noise they made.
“You shoulda left a note, too,” Huck said.
“No need for all that,” Tom said. “Nickel’s plenty.” I could feel the boys’ eyes turn to me. I remained still.
“What you doin’?” Huck asked.
“I’m gonna play a little joke on ol’ Jim.”
“You gonna wake him up is what you gonna do.”
“Hush up.”
Tom stepped behind me and grabbed my hat brim at my ears.
“Tom,” Huck complained.
“Shhhh.” Tom lifted my hat off my head. “I’s jest gonna hang this ol’ hat on this ol’ nail.”
“What’s that s’posed to do?” Huck asked.
“When he wakes up he’s gonna think a witch done it. I jest wish we could be round to see it.”
“Okay, it be on the nail, now let’s git,” Huck said.
Someone stirred inside the house and the boys took off running, turned the corner in a full gallop and kicked up dust. I could hear their footfalls fade.
Now someone was in the kitchen, at the door. “Jim?” It was Miss Watson.
“Yessum?”
“Was you ’sleep?”
“No, ma’am. I is a might tired, but I ain’t been ’sleep.”
“Was you in my kitchen?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Was anybody in my kitchen?”
“Not that I seen, ma’am.” That was quite actually true, as my eyes had been closed the whole time. “I ain’t seen nobody in yo kitchen.”
“Well, here’s that corn bread. You kin tell Sadie that I like her recipe. I made a couple of changes. You know, to refine it.”
“Yessum, I sho tell her.”
“You seen Huck about?” she asked.
“I seen him earlier.”
“How long ago?”
“A spell,” I said.
“Jim, I’m gonna ask you a question now. Have you been in Judge Thatcher’s library room?”
“In his what?”
“His library.”
“You mean dat room wif all dem books?”
“Yes.”
“No, missums. I seen dem books, but I ain’t been in da room. Why fo you be askin’ me dat?”
“Oh, he found some book off the shelves.”
I laughed. “What I gone do wif a book?”
She laughed, too.
* * *
—
THE CORN BREAD was wrapped in a thin towel and I had to keep shifting hands because it was hot. I considered having a taste because I was hungry, but I wanted Sadie and Elizabeth to have the first bites. When I stepped through the door, Lizzie ran to me, sniffing the air like a hound.
“What’s that I smell?” she asked.
“I imagine that would be this corn bread,” I said. “Miss Watson used your mama’s special recipe and it certainly does smell good. She did inform me that she made a couple of alterations.”
Sadie came to me and gave me a kiss on the mouth. She stroked my face. She was soft and her lips were soft, but her hands were as rough as mine from work in the fields, though still gentle.
“I’ll be sure to take this towel back to her tomorrow. White folks always remember things like that. I swear, I believe they set aside time every day to count towels and spoons and cups and such.”
