a-wall-of-fire-rising.pdf

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II f Fire
EDWIDGE DANTICAT
Edwidge Danticat was born in the city ofPort-au-Prince, Haiti, in 1969 and
immigrated to the United States with her parents (a cab driver and textile worker)
at the age of twelve. She is the author of three plays and seven novels. She has edited
books and published a memoir, Brother, I’m Dying, in 2007. In 1995, she published,
Krik?Krak!, her only collection ofshort stories, which includes ‘A Wall ofFire
Rising” and was a finalist for the National Book Award. More information about
Danticat’s literary themes and personal background can befound in the literary
analysis, ‘An Interview with Edwidge Danticat” on page 158.

“Listen to what happened today:’ Guy said as
he barged through the rattling door of his tiny
shack.

His wife, Lili, was squatting in the middle
oftheir one-room home, spreading cornmeal
mush on banana leaves for their supper.

“Listen to what happened to me today!”
Guy’s seven-year-old son-Little Guy­
dashed from a corner and grabbed his fa­

. ther’s hand. The boy dropped his. composi­
tion notebook as he leaped to his father,
nearly stepping into the corn mush and her­
ring that his mother had set out in a trio of
half gourds on the clay floor.

“Our boy is in a play.” Lili quickly robbed
Little Guy of the honor of telling his father the
news.

“A play?” Guy affectionately stroked the 5
boy’s hair.

The boy had such tiny corkscrew curls
that no amount of brushing could ever make
them all look like a single entity. The other
boys at the Lycee Jean-Jacques called him
“pepper head” because each separate kinky
strand was coiled into a tight tiny ball that
looked like small peppercorns.

“When is this play?” Guy asked both the
boy and his wife. “Arewe going to have to buy
new clothes for this?”

Lili got up from the floor and inclined her
face towards her husband’s in order to re­
ceive her nightly peck on the cheek.

“What role do you have in the play?” Guy
asked, slowly rubbing the tip of his nails
across the boy’s scalp. His fingers made a soft
grating noise with each invisible circle drawn
around the perimeters of the boy’s head.
Guy’s fingers finally landed inside the boy’s
ears, forcing the boy to giggle until he almost
gave himself the hiccups.

“Tell me, what is your part in the play?” 10
Guy asked again, pulling his fingers away
from his son’s ear.

“I am Boukman,” the boy huffed out, as
though there was some laughter caught in his
throat.

“Show Papy your lines,” Lili told the boy
as she arranged the three open gourds on a
piece of plywood raised like a table on two
bricks, in the middle of the room. “My love,
Boukman is the hero of the play:’

The boy went back to the corner where
he had been studying and pulled out a thick
book carefully covered in brown paper.

“You’re going to spend a lifetime learn­
ing those:’ Guy took the book from the boy’s
hand and flipped through the pages quickly.
He had to strain his eyes to see the words by

” .

151

I’ Danticat: A Wall of Fire Rising

elight of an old kerosene lamp, which that The boy closed his eyes and took a deep
,night-like all others-flickered as though it breath. At first, his lips parted but nothing
,was burning its very last wick. came out. Lili pushed her head forward as

‘~these words seem so long and heavy:’ IS though she were holding her breath. Then
.Guy said. “You think you can do this, son?” like the last burst of lightning out of clearing

“He has one very good speech:’ Lili said. sky, the boy began.
‘Page forty, remember, son?” ‘il wall offire is rising and in the ashes, I

The boy took back the book from his fa- see the bones ofmy people. Not only those peo­
ther. His face was crimped in an of-course-1- pie whose dark hollow faces I see daily in the
remember look as he searched for page forty. fields, but all those souls who have gone ahead

“Bonk-man,” Guy struggled with the let- to haunt my dreams. At night I reliue once
ters of the slave revolutionary’s name as he more the last caressesfrom the hand of a lov­
looked over his son’s shoulders. {(I see some ingfather, a valiant love, a belovedfriend.”
very hard words here, son:’ It was obvious that this was a speech writ – 35

“He already knows his speech:’ Lili told ten by a European man, who gave to the slave
her husband. revolutionary Boukman the kind of European

“Does he now?” asked Guy. 20 phrasing that might have sent the real Bouk­
“We’ve been at it all afternoon:’ Lili said. man turning in his grave. However, the

“Jllhy don’t you go on and recite that speech speech made Lili and Guy stand on the tips of
foryourfather?” their toes from great pride. As their applause

The boy tipped his head towards the thundered in the small space of their shack
rusting tin on the roof as he prepared to recite that night, they felt as though for a moment
his lines. they had been given the rare pleasure of hear­

” Lili wiped her hands on an old apron tied ing the voice of one of the forefathers of Hait­
around her waist and stopped to listen, ian independence in the forced baritone of

“Remember what you are:’ Lili said, “a their only child. The experience left them
great rebel leader. Remember, it is the revolu- both with a strange feeling that they could not
lion:’ explain. It left the hair on the back of their

“Do we want him to be all of that?” Guy 25 necks standing on end. It left them feeling
asked. much more love than they ever knew that

“He is Boukrnan,” Lili said. “What is the they could add to their feeling for their son.

only thing on your mind now, Boukman?” “Bravo,” Lilicheered, pressing her son into

“Supper,” Guy whispered, enviously eye­ the folds of her apron. “Long live Boukman
ing the food cooling off in the middle of the and long live my boy:’
room. He and the boy looked at each other “Long live our supper;’ Guy said, quickly
andbegan to snicker. batting his eyelashes to keep tears from rolling

“Tell us the other thing that is on your down his face.
mind;’ Lilisaid, joining in their laughter.

Q . “Free.dom!”. sho~ted the boy, as he
IC quickly slipped mto hISrole. The boy kept his eyes on his book as they ate

“Louder!” urged Lili. 30 their supper that night. Usually Guy and Lili
“Freedom is on my mind!” yelled the boy. would not have allowed that, but this was a
“Why don’t you start, son?” said Guy. “If special occasion. They watched proudly as the

you don’t, we’ll never get to that other thing boy muttered his lines between swallows of
thatwe have on our minds:’ cornmeal.

CHAPTER 8 Literary Analyses I~

The boy was still mumbling the same
words as the three of them used the last of the
rainwater trapped in old gasoline containers
and sugarcane pulp from the nearby sugarcane
mill to scrub the gourds that they had eaten
from.

When things were really bad for the fam- 40
ily, they boiled clean sugarcane pulp to make
what Lili called her special sweet water tea. It
was supposed to suppress gas and kill the
vermin in the stomach that made poor chil­
dren hungry. That and a pinch of salt under
the tongue could usually quench hunger un­
til Guy found a day’s work or Lili could man­
age to buy spices on credit and then peddle
them for a profit at the marketplace.

That night, anyway, things were good.
Everyone had eaten enough to put all their
hunger vermin to sleep.

The boy was sitting in front of the shack
on an old plastic bucket turned upside down,
straining his eyes to find the words on the
page. Sometimes when there was no kerosene.
for the lamp, the boy would have to go sit by
the side of the road and study under the street
lamps with the rest of the neighborhood chil­
dren. Tonight, at least, they had a bit of their
own light.

Guy bent down by a small clump of old
mushrooms near the boy’s feet, trying to get a
better look at the plant. He emptied the last
drops of rainwater from a gasoline container
on the mushroom, wetting the bulging toes
sticking out of his sons’ sandals, which were
already coming apart around his endlessly
growing feet.

Guy tried to pluck some of the mush­
rooms, which were being pushed into the dust
as though they wanted to grow beneath the
ground as roots. He took one of the mush­
rooms in his hand, running his smallest finger
over the round bulb. He clipped the stem and
buried the top in a thick strand of his wife’s hair.

The mushroom looked like a dried insect 45
in Lili’s hair.

“It sure makes you look special,” Guy
said, teasing her.

“Thank you so much,” Lili said, tapping
her husband’s arm. “It’s nice to know that I
deserve these much more than roses:’

Taking his wife’s hand, Guy said, “Let’s
go to the sugar mill,”

“Can I study my lines there?” the boy
asked.

“You know them well enough already,” 50
Guy said.

“I need many repetitions;’ the boy said.

Their feet sounded as though they were play­

ing a wet wind instrument as they slipped in

and out of the puddles between the shacks in

.the shantytown. Near the sugar mill was a

_ large television screen in a iron grill cage that

the government had installed so that the
shantytown dwellers could watch the state­
sponsored news at eight o’clock every night.
After the news, a gendarme would come and
turn off the television set, taking home the
key. On most nights, the people stayed at the
site long after this gendarme had gone and
told stories to one another beneath the big
hlank screen. They made bonfires with dried
sticks, corn husks, and paper, cursing the au­
thorities under their breath.

There was a crowd already gathering for
the nightly news event. The sugar mill workers
sat in the front row in chairs or on old buckets.

Lili and Guy passed the group, clinging to
their son so that in his childhood naivete he
wouldn’t accidentally glance at the wrong
person and becalled an insolent child. They
didn’t like the ambiance of the nightly news
watch. They spared themselves trouble by go­
ing instead to the sugar mill, where in the past
year they had discovered their own wonder.

Everyone knew that the family who 55
owned the sugar mill were eccentric “Arabs;’
Haitians of Lebanese or Palestinian descent
whose family had heen in the country for
generations. The Assad family had a sonwho,
it seems, was into all manner of odd things,
the most recent of which was a hot-air bal­
loon, which he had brought to Haiti from

America and occasi
tytown skies.

As they approa
ing the field when
and deflated ballot
Guy let go of the hi
the boy.

Lili walked 011
the last few week~
though Guy was I

___.__ . _ _ _ _ _ …. – – -4

reached this poin~
balloon. AsGuy p~

-harbed wire, she,
his face that he wi
the square baske~
surface of the ba~
head. During th~
open, Guy woul~
ing at it with th~
most men dispq
pretty girls. ;

Lili and the]
distance as G4
deeper, beyondi
arated him from

I

his pants pocke,
etknife, sharpe;
surface of the f4
moved closer, I
pocket, letting]
son’s tightlyco]

“I wager ~
GUy said.

“Whydo~

asked.
“I know it]

He folloW!
mill, leading i
watch light. »
hind them. n
balloon lookq

uti strets
high grass in]
tried to toucf

“You’re I
“You’re not]
snakes that q

America and occasionally flew over the shan­
tytown skies.

As they approached the fence surround­
ing the field where the large wicker basket
and deflated balloon rested on the ground,
Guy let go of the hands of both his wife and
the boy.

Lili walked on slowly with her son. For
the last few weeks, she had been feeling as’
though Guy was lost to her each time he
reached this point, twelve feet away from the’
balloon. As Guy pushed his hand through the
barbed wire, she could tell from the look on
his face that he was thinking of sitting inside
the square basket while the smooth rainbow
surface of the balloon itself floated above his
head. During the day, when the field was
open, Guy would walk up to the basket, star­
ing at it with the same kind of longing that
most men display when they admire very
pretty girls.

Lili and the boy stood watching from a
distance as Guy tried to push his hand
deeper, beyond the chain link fence that sep­

” arated him from the balloon. He reached into
his pants pocket and pulled out a small pock­
etknife, sharpening the edges on the metal
surface of the fence. When his wife and child­
moved closer, he put the knife back in his
pocket, letting his fingers slide across his
son’s tightly coiled curls.

“I wager you 1 can make this thing fly,”
Guy said.

“Why do you think you can do that?” Lili 60
asked.

“I know it;’ Guy replied.
He followed her as she circled the sugar

mill, leading to their favorite spot under a
watch light. Little Guy lagged faithfully be­
hind them. From this distance, the hot-air
balloon looked like an odd spaceship.

Lili stretched her body out in the knee­
high grass in the field. Guy reached over and
tried to touch her between her legs.

“You’re not one to worry, Lili,” he said.
“You’re not afraid of the frogs, lizards, or
snakes that could be hiding in this grass?”

Danticat: A Wall of Fire Rising

“I am here with my husband;’ she said. 65
“You are here to protect me if anything hap­
pens:’

Guy reached into his shirt pocket and
pulled out a lighter and a crumpled piece of
paper. He lit the paper until it burned to an
ashy film. The burning paper floated in the
night breeze for a while, landing in fragments
on the grass.

“Did you see that, Lili?” Guy asked with a
flame in his eyes brighter than the lighter’s.
“Did you see how the paper floated when it
was burned? This is how that balloon flies:’

“What did you mean by saying that you
could make it fly?” Lili asked.

“You already know all my secrets;’ Guy
said as the boy came charging towards them.

“Papa, could you play Lago with me?” 70
the boy asked.

Lili lay peacefully on the grass as her son
and husband played hide-and-seek. Guy kept
hiding and his son kept finding him as each
time Guy made it easier for the boy.

“We rest now:’ Guy was becoming breath­
less.

The stars were circling the peaks of the
mountains, dipping into the cane fields be­
longing to the sugar mill. As Guy caught his
breath, the boy raced around the fence, run­
ning as fast as he could to purposely make
himself dizzy.

“Listen to what happened today;’ Guy
whispered softly in Lili’s ear.

“I heard you say that when you walked in 75
the house tonight;’ Lili said. “With the boy’s
play, 1 forgot to ask you:’

The boy sneaked up behind them, his
face lit up, though his brain was spinning.
He wrapped his arms around both their
necks.

“We will go back home soon;’ Lili said.
“Can 1recite my lines?” asked the boy.
“We have heard them;’ Guy said. “Don’t

tire your lips:’
The boy mumbled something under his 80

breath. Guy grabbed his ear and twirled it un­
til it was a tiny ball in his hand. The boy’s face

CHAPTER 8 Literary Analyses

contorted with agony as Guy made him kneel
in the deep grass in punishment.

Lili looked tortured as she watched the
boy squirming in the grass, obviously terri­
fied of the crickets, lizards, and small snakes

, that might be there.
“Perhaps we should take him home to

bed,” she said.
“He will never learn;’ Guy said, “if I say

“one thing and you say another:’
I Guy got up and angrily started walking
home. Lili walked over, took her son’s hand,
and raised him from his knees.

“You know you must not mumble,” she 85
said.

“I was saying my lines;’ the boy said.
“Next time say them loud;’ Lili said, “so

he knows what is coming out of your mouth:’
That night Lili could hear her son mut­

tering his lines as he tucked himself in his
corner of the room and drifted off to sleep.
The boy still had the book with his mono­
logue in it clasped under his arm as he slept.

Guy stayed outside in front of the shack as Lili

undressed for bed. She loosened the ribbon

that held the old light blue cotton skirt around

her waist and let it drop past her knees. She

grabbed half a lemon that she kept in the cor­

ner by the folded mat that she and Guy un­

rolled to sleep on every night. Lili let her

blouse drop to the floor as she smoothed the

. ‘I
lemon over her ashen legs.

Guy came in just at that moment and 90
saw her bare chest by the light of the smaller
castor oil lamp that they used for the later
hours of the night. Her skin had coarsened a
bit over the years, he thought. Her breasts
now drooped from having nursed their son
for two years after he was born. It was now
easier for him to imagine their son’s lips
around those breasts than to imagine his
anywhere near them.

He turned his face away as she fumbled
for her nightgown. He helped her open the
mat, tucking the blanket edges underneath.

Fully clothed, Guy dropped onto the mat
next to her, He laid his head on her chest,
rubbing the spiky edges of his hair against
her nipples.

“What was it that happened today?” Lili
asked, running her fingers along Guy’s hair­
line, an angular hairline, almost like a trian­
gle, in the middle of his forehead. She nearly
didn’t marry him because it was said that
people with angular hairlines often have very
troubled lives.

“I got a few hours’ work for tomorrow at
the sugar mill;’ Guy said. “That’s what hap­
pened today:’

“It was such a long time coming;’ Lili said. 95
It was almost six months since the last

time Guy had gotten work there. The jobs at
the sugar mill were few and far between. The
people who had them never left, or when they
did they would pass the job on to another fam­
ily member who was already waiting on line.

Guy did not seem overjoyed about the
one day’s work.

“I wish I had paid more attention when
you came in with the news;’ Lili said. “I was
just so happy about the boy:’

“I was born in the shadow of that sugar
mill;’ Guy said. “Probably the first thing my
mother gave me to drink as a baby was some
sweet water tea from the pulp of the sugarcane.
If anyone deserves to work there, I should:’

“What will you be doing for your day’s 100
work?”

“Would you really like to know?”
“There is never any shame in honest

work;’ she said. <. "They want me to scrub the latrines:; "It's honest work;' Lili said, trying to con­ sole him. "I am still number seventy-eight on the 105 permanent hire list;' he said. "I was thinking .. of putting the boy on the list now, so maybe by the time he becomes a man he can be up for a job:' Lili's body jerked forward, rising straight up in the air. Guy's head dropped with a loud thump onto the mat. "I don't want ~ "For a young boy ~ might influence hisl on the list:' . "Look at me;' q worked there, if hel you think I would~ "If you havea~ "you will notput hl She groped fo~ dark and laid her l his heart beatingJ' pumping double, i "You won't p~ you?" she implor~ "Please, LiIi, ~ will not go on the' "Thank you:' I "Tonight I w~ the yard behind j have been watchif "I know:' i "I have see11/ said. "I've seen hi sky and go up ~ kite and he was who run after it will land, Once1 I those men WhO~ guessed correc arcane fields. I tance and it ac~ "Letmesa~ "Pretend thf and we believed • I for a long nme.] loon. The first q like a miracle, ~ the more ordin~ "You're pn do it;' she said.}. "I am inte right to sayth~: "Dol1'tYo~ "Think li~ up there? Up I some kind ofU ,. "­ "I don't want him on that list," she said. , "For a young boy to be on any list like that might influence his destiny. I don't want him i onthe list:' "Look at me," Guy said. "If my father had worked there, if he had me on the list, don't you think I would be working?" "If you have any regard for me;' she said, "you will not put him on the list:' She groped for her husband's chest in the 110 dark and laid her head on it. She could hear his heart heating loudly as though it were pumping double, triple its normal rate. "You won't put the boyan any lists, will you?" she implored. "Please, Lili, no more about the boy. He will not go on the list:' "Thank you." "Tonight I was looking at that balloon in the yard behind the sugar mill;' he said. "I have been watching it real close:' "I know:' 115 "I have seen the man who owns it;' he said. "I've seen him get in it and put it in the sky andgo up there like it was some kind of kite and he was the kite master. I see the men who run after it trying to figure out where it will land. Once I was there and I was one of those men who were running and I actually guessed correctly. I picked a spot in the sug­ arcane fields. I picked the spot from a dis­ tance and it actually landed there:' "Let me say something to you, Guy-" "Pretend that this is the time of miracles and we believed in them. I watched the owner for a long time, and I think I can fly that bal­ loon. The first time I saw him do it, it looked like a miracle, but the more and more I saw it, the more ordinary it became:' "You're probably intelligent enough to do it," she said. i- "I am intelligent enough to do it. You're 120 '­ t~. right to say that I can:' "Don't you think about hurting yourself?" "Think like this. Can't you see yourself up there? Up in the clouds somewhere like some kind of bird?" Danticat: A Wall of Fire Rising 153 1 "If God wanted people to fly, he would have given us wings on our backs:' "You're right, LiE, you're right. But look what he gave us instead. lie gave us reasons to want to fly. He gave us the air, the birds, our son." '-. "I don't understand you;' she said. 125 "Our son, your son, you do not want him cleaning latrines." "He can do other things:' "Me too. I can do other things too:' A loud scream came from the corner where the boy was sleeping. Lili and Guy rushed to him and tried to wake him. The boy was trembling when he opened his eyes. "What is the matter?" Guy asked. 130 "I cannot remember my lines;' the boy said. Lili tried to string together what she could remember of her son's lines. The words slowly came back to the boy. By the time he fell back to sleep, it was almost dawn. The light was slowly coming up behind the trees. Lili could hear the whispers of the mar­ ket women, their hisses and swearing as their sandals dug into the sharp-edged rocks on the road. She turned her back to her husband as she slipped out of her nightgown, quickly putting on her day clothes. "Imagine this," Guy said from the mat on 135 the floor. "I have never really seen your entire body in broad daylight:' . Lili shut the door behind her, making her way out to the yard. The empty gasoline con- I tainers rested easily on her head as she r walked a few miles to the public water foun- ~ I tains, It was harder to keep them steady when the containers were full. The water splashed all over her blouse and rippled down her back. The sky was blue as it was most morn­ ings, a dark indigo-shaded turquoise that would get lighter when the sun was fully risen. i CHAPTER 8 Literary Analyses I~ Guy and the boy were standing in the yard waiting for her when she got back. "You did not get much sleep, my hand­ some boy;' she said, running her wet fingers over the boy's face. "He'll be late for school if we do not go 140 right now," Guy said. "I want to drop him off before I start work:' "Do we remember our lines this morn­ ing?" Lili asked, tucking the boy's shirt down deep into his short pants. "We just recited them;' Guy said. "Even I know them now:' Lili watched them walk down the foot­ path, her eyes following them until they dis­ appeared. As soon as they were out of sight, she poured the water she had fetched into a large calabash, letting it stand beside the house. She went back into the room and slipped 145 into a dry blouse. It was never too early to start looking around, to scrape together that, night's meal. "Listen to what happened again today;' Lili said when Guy walked through the door that afternoon. Guy blotted his face with a dust rag as he prepared to hear the news. After the day he'd had at the factory, he wanted to sit under a tree and have a leisurely smoke, but he did not want to set a bad example for his son by indulging his very small pleasures. "You tell him, son;' Lili urged the 'boy, who was quietly sitting in a corner, reading. "I've got more lines," the boy announced, springing up to his feet. "Papy, do you want to hear them?" "They are giving him more things to say 150 , in the play;' Lili explained, "because he did such a good job memorizing so fast:' "My compliments, son. Do you have your new lines memorized too?" Guy asked, "Why don't you recite your new lines for your father?" Lili said. The boy walked to the middle of the room and prepared to recite. He cleared his throat, raising his eyes towards the ceiling. "There is so much sadness in the faces of my people. I have called on their gods, now I call on our gods. I call on our young. I call on our old. I call on our mighty and the weak. I call on everyone and anyone so that we shall all let out one piercing cry that we may either live freely or we should die." "I see your new lines have as much 155 drama as the old ones;' Guy said. He wiped a tear away, walked over to the chair, and took the boy in his arms. He pressed the boy's body against his chest before lowering him to the ground. "Your new lines are wonderful, son. They're every bit as affecting as the old:' He tapped the boy's shoulder and walked out of the house. "What's the matter with Papy?" the boy asked as the door slammed shut behind Guy. "His heart hurts;' Lili said. After supper, Lili took her son to the field where she knew her husband would be, While the boy ran around, she found her hus­ band sitting in his favorite spot hehind the sugar mill. "Nothing, Lili," he said. "Ask me nothing 160 about this day that I have had:' She sat down on the grass next to him, for once feeling the sharp edges of the grass blades against her ankles. "You're really good with that boy;' he said, drawing circles with his smallest finger on her elbow. "You will make a performer of him. I know you will. You can see the best in that whole situation. It's because you have those stars in your eyes. That's the first thing I noticed about you when I met you. It was your eyes, Lili, so dark and deep. They drew me like danger draws a fool:' He turned over on the grass so that he was staring directly at the moon up in the sky. She could tell thai hot-air halloon bl out ofthe cornerq "Sometimes ~ in me;' he said."I for me. You want] want me to get a j I you want these , vv_ant me to feell~ not one to worry …

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