Read The Color Purple for Free Online Page B

now she show me and Mr. _____ her good side. But evil all over her today. She smile, like a razor opening. Say, Well, well, look who’s here today.
    She wearing a little flowery shift I made for her and nothing else. She look bout ten with her hair all cornrowed. She skinny as a bean, and her face full of eyes.
    Me and Mr. _____ both look up at her. Both move to help her sit down. She don’t look at him. She pull up a chair next to me.
    She pick up a random piece of cloth out the basket. Hold it up to the light. Frown. How you sew this damn thing? she say.
    I hand her the square I’m working on, start another one. She sew long crooked stiches, remind me of that little crooked tune she sing.
    That real good, for first try, I say. That just fine and dandy. She look at me and snort. Everything I do is fine and dandy to you, Miss Celie, she say. But that’s cause you ain’t got good sense. She laugh. I duck my head.
    She got a heap more than Margaret, say Tobias. Margaret take that needle and sew your nostrils together.
    All womens not alike, Tobias, she say. Believe it or not.
    Oh, I believe it, he say. Just can’t prove it to the world.
    First time I think about the world.
    What the world got to do with anything, I think. Then I see myself sitting there quilting tween Shug Avery and Mr. ____. Us three set together gainst Tobias and his fly speck box of chocolate. For the first time in my life, I feel just right.

DEAR GOD,
    Me and Sofia work on the quilt. Got it frame up on the porch. Shug Avery donate her old yellow dress for scrap, and I work in a piece every chance I get. It a nice pattern call Sister’s Choice. If the quilt turn out perfect, maybe I give it to her, if it not perfect, maybe I keep. I want it for myself, just for the little yellow pieces, look like stars, but not. Mr. _____ and Shug walk up the road to the mailbox. The house quiet, cept for the flies. They swing through every now and then, drunk from eating and enjoying the heat, buzz enough to make me drowsy.
    Sofia look like something on her mind, she just not sure what. She bend over the frame, sew a little while, then rear back in her chair and look out cross the yard. Finally she rest her needle, say, Why do people eat, Miss Celie, tell me that.
    To stay alive, I say. What else? Course some folks eat cause food taste good to ’em. Then some is gluttons. They love to feel they mouth work.
    Them the only reasons you can think of? she ast.
    Well, sometime it might be a case of being undernourish, I say.
    She muse. He not undernourish, she say.
    Who ain’t? I ast.
    Harpo. She say.
    Harpo?
    He eating more and more every day.
    Maybe he got a tape worm?
    She frown. Naw, she say. I don’t think it a tape worm. Tape worm make you hungry. Harpo eat when he ain’t even hungry.
    What, force it down? This hard to believe, but sometime you hear new things everyday. Not me, you understand, but some folk do say that.
    Last night for supper he ate a whole pan of biscuits by himself.
    Naw. I say.
    He sure did. And had two big glasses of butter milk along with it. This was after supper was over, too. I was giving the children they baths, getting ’em ready for bed. He sposed to be washing the dishes. Stead of washing plates, he cleaning ’em with his mouth.
    Well maybe he was extra hungry. Yall is been working hard.
    Not that hard, she say. And this morning, for breakfast, darn if he didn’t have six eggs. After all that food he look too sick to walk. When us got to the field I thought he was going to faint.
    If Sofia say DARN something wrong. Maybe he don’t want to wash dishes, I say. His daddy never wash a dish in his life.
    You reckon? she say. He seem so much to love it. To tell the truth, he love that part of housekeeping a heap more ‘en me. I rather be out in the fields or fooling with the animals. Even chopping wood. But he love cooking and cleaning and doing little things round the house.
    He sure is a good cook, I say. Big surprise to me that he