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After 28 years with August, Hattie leaves him for her lover, Lawrence Bernard. She tells August her latest baby is not his, then walks out. She calls Lawrence with the news that she has left home, and they meet at a restaurant.
Born in Baltimore, Lawrence set out on his own at 16 and now, at 40, “he had a car and nice suits” (14). When he met Hattie, she impressed him with her refined manners, which belied her “multitude of children” (74) and impoverished circumstances. Lawrence considers himself a responsible man, and the prospect of rescuing Hattie from squalor pleases him. He and Hattie now have a baby, Ruthie, and he decides “he might become a family man” (74).
As he sits with Hattie and Ruthie in the restaurant, Lawrence formulates a future for them in Baltimore, suggesting they will buy a house big enough for Hattie’s many children. This alarms Hattie, who is agitated and wary of being duped again. Her greatest mistake, so far, was trusting August to make a success of himself. She asks Lawrence about his gambling habit, and he lies, claiming he only gambles infrequently now.
With trepidation, Hattie agrees to go to Baltimore. She hardly speaks during the drive, while Lawrence silently calculates how many “good hands” he needs to rent them rooms at a boardinghouse. When Lawrence first met Hattie, he was attracted to her aloof steeliness and her lively spark of anger. She also had an unexpected wistfulness “for something she wouldn’t ever have” (78). Glancing at Hattie in the car, Lawrence notes that her spark is gone.
Meanwhile in Philadelphia, amid the children’s hungry uproar, August searches for loose change to buy food but finds none. Hattie’s sudden departure has reduced him to helplessness. After they quarreled that morning over August’s penchant for spending all their money on night clubs and easy women, Hattie revealed the truth about Ruthie’s paternity. He told her to get out, but her disappearance nevertheless shocks him. He sends the children to bed without supper and starts drinking.
After arriving in Baltimore, Lawrence drives to the train station. He claims he wants to see about a porter job, despite the late hour, and disappears inside. A card game is just starting in the basement, so Lawrence agrees to return soon and play. He goes back upstairs, but Hattie has boarded a train bound for Philadelphia.
Hattie and her baby arrive home before sunrise, and she tells August she won’t see Lawrence again.
Hattie gives birth at age 46 to her last child, Ella. While August has never had steady employment, they’ve somehow survived on his patchy income from odd jobs at the docks. Recently, however, August hasn’t been working, so Hattie has been housekeeping for white women. Distressed by her children’s lean faces and worn-out shoes, Hattie goes to the relief agency. Although everyone on her street is poor, they shun Hattie after she applies for benefits because “the dole was too shameful” (120).
Hattie’s sister Pearl returned to Georgia long ago, and her husband makes good money operating a funeral parlor. Although they have “a big house with a wraparound porch” (118), their efforts to have children have failed. When Pearl learns of Hattie’s recourse to the dole, she writes, offering to adopt Ella. Hattie throws the letter away but keeps the enclosed money.
Hattie blames August for their financial plight and thinks, “Mama was right to call him my ruin” (110). Only 15 years old when she met August, Hattie found him so irresistible that she was soon pregnant. They married but then the twins died, and between his lackluster work habits and his womanizing, August proved a great disappointment. So bitter is Hattie that she can hardly speak to August, but their physical passion continues undiminished, as her many pregnancies testify.
After Hattie reluctantly agrees Ella will fare better with Pearl, Pearl and her husband Benny drive from Georgia to Philadelphia. Their dinner at a roadside picnic table is interrupted by four swaggering white men who threaten them with violence for sitting at “a white folks” (117) table. They escape unharmed, but once on the road again, Pearl scolds Benny for “shucking and shuffling” (119) before the men. Benny counters that, what with her “afternoon teas and garden club” (119), Pearl forgets that blacks cannot keep their dignity and remain unscathed.
Meanwhile, Hattie regrets her decision to surrender Ella. As a child in Georgia, Hattie knew she was seen as unremarkable, like all the other blacks. While fleeing to Philadelphia on the train, however, she suddenly “felt herself a single red flower in a field of green grass” (113). Hattie fantasizes about running away with Ella to someplace where “they could be like […] two red poppies” (113).
Pearl and Benny arrive, and Hattie declares she won’t give up Ella. When August concedes that losing Ella is painful but not comparable to losing the twins, Hattie relents. After Ella is gone, Hattie angrily lashes out at August.
Hattie’s daughter Alice is 25 and married to an affluent doctor, Royce Philips. Ever mindful of her underprivileged background, Alice is insecure in her role as an upper-class wife. Her unspoken fears “about how to be” (157) make her anxious, so Royce routinely gives her pills and advises rest.
At 6:30 a.m. Alice is already overwhelmed at the prospect of preparing for the party she is hosting that evening for her brother Floyd. Alice’s mother will be among the guests. Hattie always wished to own a house, believing that “[r]enting made them poor and common” (150). Alice thinks, “It must gall Mother to come here […] All of these bedrooms and parlors and not a child in sight” (150). Although Royce wants children, Alice secretly takes contraceptive pills.
At 7:00 a.m. Alice goes out to walk off her loneliness. She misses her brother Billups, who until recently frequently visited her after having “a night of terrible dreams” (139). As children, Alice and Billups went to the house of a man named Thomas for lessons. He would lock Alice in the parlor with her school workbook while he molested Billups in the kitchen. They never told anyone, but Alice understands it traumatized Billups. Because Billups is too broken to work, Alice devotes herself—and Royce’s money—to supporting him. Lately Billups has been out of touch.
As Alice approaches her church, she sees a man on the steps. Recognizing his “rodent skittishness” (141), she gasps with horror, certain it is Thomas. She flees.
Returning home, Alice discovers that despite her careful management of the party details, the caterer has arrived too soon. She vents her frustration to the maid, Eudine, whose formidable competence intimidates Alice. After Eudine explains that “Dr. Philips” cancelled Alice’s caterer and made other arrangements, Alice walks away in humiliation. She “could feel [Eudine] smirking” (144).
Billups appears at 12:30. Although overjoyed to see him, Alice quickly pivots to the subject of Thomas. Billups grows impatient with Alice, as her frequent Thomas “sightings” tire him, and he leaves.
When Alice wanders into the kitchen at 3:00, the sight of Billups and Eudine embracing scandalizes her. Billups tells Alice he has a new job, and he wants “to be normal […] to get married” (153). Alice insists Billups is “not thinking” (152) and needs her, but he counters that while he has put the past behind him, she keeps dragging him back there. He leaves, and Alice fires Eudine.
Billups returns at dusk, just as Alice glimpses Thomas outside the window. When Alice shrieks, Billups gently tells her it is Royce she sees. Alice cringes at the truth: She had thought “Thomas was their shared affliction, but […] it was just her, just Alice, ruined all by herself” (157).
These chapters foreground the injustices Hattie and other black women endure because of their gender as well as their race. As a black woman, Hattie is dually oppressed, which severely curtails her options and opportunities. August amuses himself by frequenting night clubs and indulging in other women while Hattie stays home caring for their “multitude of children.” Hattie seethes with anger at the money August invests in his vices rather than in clothing for his children or a down payment for a house, but August excuses himself, thinking, “I don’t do nothing other men don’t” (86).
When Hattie takes a lover, the relationship produces yet another child for her to take care of. With the responsibility of so many children, and with limited options, as a woman, for employment, Hattie depends on the support of a man. She can’t afford to be sentimental. Thus, while Lawrence anticipates their life together in Baltimore with excitement, Hattie’s fears that she cannot trust Lawrence outweigh any joy she might otherwise feel. When she rightly concludes that Lawrence is deceiving her, Hattie has no choice but to return August and her children, even though she feels they are “eating me alive” (98).
Although Alice marries a wealthy man, her experiences also reflect the theme of female disempowerment. Unlike her mother, Alice has access to birth control, but in the 1960s, marriage is still the primary path to economic advancement for women. Alice admits to Billups that she married Royce for his money, and indeed, there is little affection or communication in their relationship. Royce treats Alice like a child, which in turn escalates her feelings of incompetence. While Billups can establish his worth and transcend the degradations of his childhood by getting a job and supporting himself, this is not a socially accepted solution for Alice. She attempts to bolster her self-esteem by supporting Billups, but when he asserts control over his life, she is reduced to feeling like a worthless ruin.
Also emerging more forcefully in these chapters is the theme of pride—particularly Hattie’s pride, which is informed by her sense of class superiority. She has contempt for the field-working blacks in the South and is vain about her father’s status as a successful blacksmith. Discussing Pearl’s offer to raise Ella at her home in Georgia, August tries to comfort Hattie by saying Ella would be “goin’ back where we came from, good earth, good air” (125). This triggers Hattie’s pride, however, and she sneers, “You and I don’t come from the same place […] You came from a shack, and I came from a house on a hill” (125).
When Pearl encloses money in the letters she sends, Hattie keeps it, but it wounds her pride. She accuses Pearl “of trying to buy Ella” (127). Pearl, who has tried to win Hattie’s love since they were children, remembers Hattie “was angry all the time and so disdainful when her high expectations weren’t met” (127).
Because of her self-righteous “high expectations,” Hattie is not forgiving toward those who fail her. She regards August as the instrument of her ruin largely because he doesn’t sufficiently provide for his family. August himself recognizes “he should have done better by them […] but he also knew the game was rigged. He couldn’t figure out why Hattie wouldn’t admit it” (90). By blaming August alone for their economic struggles and inability to buy a house, Hattie overlooks the pervasive, systemic racial discrimination that works against black socioeconomic advancement. As August knows, regardless how hard he works, the gamed is rigged against him.