"I did it. I got us all out. Without Halle too. Up till then it was the only thing I ever did on my own.Decided. And it came off right, like it was supposed to. We was here. Each and every one of mybabies and me too. I birthed them and I got em out and it wasn't no accident. I did that. I had help,of course, lots of that, but still it was me doing it; me saying, Go on, and Now. Me having to lookout. Me using my own head. But it was more than that. It was a kind of selfishness I never knewnothing about before. It felt good. Good and right. I was big, Paul D, and deep and wide and whenI stretched out my arms all my children could get in between. I was that wide. Look like I lovedem more after I got here. Or maybe I couldn't love em proper in Kentucky because they wasn'tmine to love. But when I got here, when I jumped down off that wagon — there wasn't nobody inthe world I couldn't love if I wanted to. You know what I mean?"
Paul D did not answer becauseshe didn't expect or want him to, but he did know what she meant. Listening to the doves in Alfred,Georgia, and having neither the right nor the permission to enjoy it because in that place mist,doves, sunlight, copper dirt, moon — -every thing belonged to the men who had the guns. Littlemen, some of them, big men too, each one of whom he could snap like a twig if he wanted to. Menwho knew their manhood lay in their guns and were not even embarrassed by the knowledge thatwithout gunshot fox would laugh at them. And these "men" who made even vixen laugh could, ifyou let them, stop you from hearing doves or loving moonlight. So you protected yourself andloved small. Picked the tiniest stars out of the sky to own; lay down with head twisted in order tosee the loved one over the rim of the trench before you slept. Stole shy glances at her between thetrees at chain-up. Grass blades, salamanders, spiders, woodpeckers, beetles, a kingdom of ants. Anything bigger wouldn't do. A woman, achild, a brother — a big love like that would split you wide open in Alfred, Georgia. He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you couldlove anything you chose — not to need permission for desire — well now, that was freedom.
Circling, circling, now she was gnawing something else instead of getting to the point.