Mayella's Moment: Poem Analysis
Mayella’s Moment
Pa came stormin’ through the front room, cussin’ a’me, madder than a wet hen, an’ his face more ruddy than my legs after yesterday’s beatin’. I knowed I was done for; Pa’d seen me kissin’ Tom through the window. I cowered to the corner of the room, hopin’ that Pa’s beatin’ on me ain’t gonna be so bad, though Pa was drunker than Cooter Brown. He showed his teeth, “You damned girl. Watcha doin’ cuddlin’ to that nigger-boy? You was tryin’ to kiss that nigger!” Pa slurred. His eyes was as wild as an angry bull. I plead’d, “He come here to bust up the chifferobe, is all. He done nothin’ wrong!” An’ it ain’t his fault he a nigger as well, I thought as I lowered my eyes. Tom was a fine nigger who’d help even a white girl, unlike …show more content…
Was it too much to want more than my Geraniums? To love – to be loved by – someone else. Now, I ain’t allowed to leave home, an’ I ain’t got no hope for a future, all ‘cause of my damned sin. All of a sudden, Pa’s voice boomed louder than all the …show more content…
I ain’t got nowhere to go. What was I gonna do, what was I doin’? Tom ain’t gonna take me to First Purchase, as if I was a nigger-lady. Even if he did, what would I do in church, with all those Negroes watchin’ and wishin’ me dead? Pa continued, his mouth foamin’ like a mad dog, as he raved, takin’ a step closer, “Funny how your nigger-boy came off runnin’ like a scalded haint! Just wanted to save his own Negro skin. He don’t give a damn ’bout you. You ain’t worth the effort, ain’t worth protecting. You’re just a bitch-dog that follows its master.”
By then, Pa’d reached me an’ he’d ripped my dress at the seam when he seized me by the shoulders that were still bruised from before. Lookin’ at Pa was like lookin’ straight at the devil, an’ his belchin’ mouth passed on the stink of moon-shine. My innards curled like the wiltin’ leaves of my Geraniums come the cold as I thought, Pa’s gonna sock me a good one agin, like all the times before. With a grunt, his left fist came up an’ knocked my block off, clean to the floor. But a beatin’ was always better than a ruttin’. I could see nothin’ but I could hear, with each punch, Pa
Pa came stormin’ through the front room, cussin’ a’me, madder than a wet hen, an’ his face more ruddy than my legs after yesterday’s beatin’. I knowed I was done for; Pa’d seen me kissin’ Tom through the window. I cowered to the corner of the room, hopin’ that Pa’s beatin’ on me ain’t gonna be so bad, though Pa was drunker than Cooter Brown. He showed his teeth, “You damned girl. Watcha doin’ cuddlin’ to that nigger-boy? You was tryin’ to kiss that nigger!” Pa slurred. His eyes was as wild as an angry bull. I plead’d, “He come here to bust up the chifferobe, is all. He done nothin’ wrong!” An’ it ain’t his fault he a nigger as well, I thought as I lowered my eyes. Tom was a fine nigger who’d help even a white girl, unlike …show more content…
Was it too much to want more than my Geraniums? To love – to be loved by – someone else. Now, I ain’t allowed to leave home, an’ I ain’t got no hope for a future, all ‘cause of my damned sin. All of a sudden, Pa’s voice boomed louder than all the …show more content…
I ain’t got nowhere to go. What was I gonna do, what was I doin’? Tom ain’t gonna take me to First Purchase, as if I was a nigger-lady. Even if he did, what would I do in church, with all those Negroes watchin’ and wishin’ me dead? Pa continued, his mouth foamin’ like a mad dog, as he raved, takin’ a step closer, “Funny how your nigger-boy came off runnin’ like a scalded haint! Just wanted to save his own Negro skin. He don’t give a damn ’bout you. You ain’t worth the effort, ain’t worth protecting. You’re just a bitch-dog that follows its master.”
By then, Pa’d reached me an’ he’d ripped my dress at the seam when he seized me by the shoulders that were still bruised from before. Lookin’ at Pa was like lookin’ straight at the devil, an’ his belchin’ mouth passed on the stink of moon-shine. My innards curled like the wiltin’ leaves of my Geraniums come the cold as I thought, Pa’s gonna sock me a good one agin, like all the times before. With a grunt, his left fist came up an’ knocked my block off, clean to the floor. But a beatin’ was always better than a ruttin’. I could see nothin’ but I could hear, with each punch, Pa