I lay there, after he left, hating myself but thankful that he hadn’t called me into his room for the fatherly talk as he had done another time. That was the worst. He had come to the door and said: “Come out of there, I want to talk to you.” He had walked ahead of me into his room and had sat down in his big leather chair next to the lamp with his legs spread wide and his big hands in his lap. He had said: “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. Sit down. I’m not going to argue. What are you so nervous about? Have a drink,” in his kindest, most fatherly way, and that had been the worst of all. That was the time he had told me to eat in my room. Now I could hear him pacing about in the hall and I knew that it was not over for the night. I began to pray that I could sleep before he came and that he would not be able to wake me, no matter what he did. I did not care what he did as long as I did not have to face him. I resolved to confess to anything he accused me of if it would make him leave sooner. I was about to go out into the hall for my confession when the door was kicked open and he charged into the room.

“You black son-of-a-bitch!” he said. “I ought to kill you.” He stood over the bed in the dark room and shook his big fist over me. And I lay there hating the overpowering cowardice in me, which kept my body still and my eyes closed, and hoping that he would kill all of it when his heavy fist landed.

“First you insult a man’s company, then you ignore him. I been good to you. I let you live here, I let you eat my uncle’s food, and I taught you things. But you’re a ungrateful motherfucker. I ought to kill you right now!”

And I still lay there, as he went on, not hearing him, with nothing in me but a loud throbbing which pulsed through the length of my body and made the sheets move with its pounding. I lay there secure and safe in cowardice for as long as I looked up at him with my eyes big and my body twitching and my mind screaming out to him that it was all right, and I thanked him, because now I truly believed in the new five thousand years of Black Rule.