In the Clearing, Sethe found Baby's old preaching rock and remembered the smell of leavessimmering in the sun, thunderous feet and the shouts that ripped pods off the limbs of thechestnuts. With Baby Suggs' heart in charge, the people let go. Sethe had had twenty-eight days — the travel of one whole moon — of unslaved life. From thepure clear stream of spit that the little girl dribbled into her face to her oily blood was twenty-eightdays. Days of healing, ease and real-talk. Days of company: knowing the names of forty, fiftyother Negroes, their views, habits; where they had been and what done; of feeling their fun andsorrow along with her own, which made it better. One taught her the alphabet; another a stitch. Alltaught her how it felt to wake up at dawn and decide what to do with the day. That's how she gotthrough the waiting for Halle. Bit by bit, at 124 and in the Clearing, along with the others, she hadclaimed herself. Freeing yourself was one thing; claiming ownership of that freed self was another. Now she sat on Baby Suggs' rock, Denver and Beloved watching her from the trees. There willnever be a day, she thought, when Halle will knock on the door. Not knowing it was hard; knowingit was harder. Just the fingers, she thought. Just let me feel your fingers again on the back of my neck and I willlay it all down, make a way out of this no way. Sethe bowed her head and sure enough — theywere there. Lighter now, no more than the strokes of bird feather, but unmistakably caressingfingers. She had to relax a bit to let them do their work, so light was the touch, childlike almost,more finger kiss than kneading. Still she was grateful for the effort; Baby Suggs' long distance lovewas equal to any skin-close love she had known. The desire, let alone the gesture, to meet herneeds was good enough to lift her spirits to the place where she could take the next step: ask forsome clarifying word; some advice about how to keep on with a brain greedy for news nobodycould live with in a world happy to provide it. She knew Paul D was adding something to her life — something she wanted to count on but wasscared to. Now he had added more: new pictures and old rememories that broke her heart. Into the empty space of not knowing about Halle — -a space sometimes colored with righteous resentmentat what could have been his cowardice, or stupidity or bad luck — that empty place of no definitenews was filled now with a brand-new sorrow and who could tell how many more on the way. Years ago — when 124 was alive — she had women friends, men friends from all around to sharegrief with. Then there was no one, for they would not visit her while the baby ghost filled thehouse, and she returned their disapproval with the potent pride of the mistreated. But now therewas someone to share it, and he had beat the spirit away the very day he entered her house and nosign of it since. A blessing, but in its place he brought another kind of haunting: Halle's facesmeared with butter and the dabber too; his own mouth jammed full of iron. 在"林间空地"上，塞丝找到了从前贝比训众的那块石头，记起了阳光中蒸腾的树叶的气味、雷鸣般的脚步声，以及把荚果扯下七叶树枝的呐喊。在贝比·萨格斯的心灵的率领下，人们尽情发泄。 塞丝度过了二十八天——整整一轮月缺月圆——的非奴隶生活。从小女孩滴在她脸上的纯净透明的口水，到她的油腻的血，一共是二十八天，是痊愈、轻松和真心交谈的日子，是交朋会友的日子：她知道了四五十个其他黑人的名字，了解他们的看法、习惯，他们待过的地方、干过的事；体验他们的甘苦，聊以抚慰自己的创痛。一个人教了她字母表；另一个教她做针线。大家一起教她体会黎明时醒来并决定这一天干些什么的滋味。这样，她熬过了等待黑尔的时光。一点一点地，在124号和"林间空地"上，同大家在一起，她赢得了自我。解放自我是一回事；赢得那个解放了的自我的所有权却是另一回事。 此刻，她坐在贝比·萨格斯的石头上，丹芙和宠儿从树林里望着她。再不会有那一天了，她想，黑尔永远不会来敲门了。不知道的时候很苦；知道了更苦。 只要手指，她心中暗道。只要让我再次感觉到你的手指按住我的脖子后面，我就会全部放下，从这绝境中辟出一条路来。塞丝低下头，可以肯定——它们来了。如今更轻了，比鸟羽的抚摸更轻，但绝对是爱抚的手指。她得放松一点，让它们抚摸，轻而又轻地抚摸，几乎是孩子的动作，不是在揉，而是在用手指亲吻。不过她仍然感激她的努力；贝比·萨格斯遥远的爱可以同她所知的一切切肤之爱相媲美。不用说手上的动作，单是那试图满足她要求的愿望，就足以把她的灵魂升到一个地方，使她能够接着走下一步：请求一些澄清真相的话语；请求一些建议，告诉她怎样才能跟上一个贪恋消息的大脑。这个世界最乐于提供这种令人忍无可忍的消息了。 她知道保罗·D在给她的生活增加某种东西——某种她想信任又怕信任的东西。现在他又增加了更多的东西：令她心碎的新的画面和旧的记忆。将它们加进对黑尔一无所知的空白——这空白有时会染上一种理所当然的怨恨，也许是针对他的懦弱、愚蠢，也许是针对他的倒霉——这没有确切消息来充实的空白，现在充满了一种崭新的悲伤，谁又说得出还会有多少悲伤即将来临呢。多年以前——那时124号仍旧生气勃勃——曾经有来自四面八方的女友、男友，来帮她分担悲伤。然后就一个也没有了，因为他们不愿意到一个小鬼魂肆虐的房子里来看她，而她也以受虐者强烈的骄傲回敬大家的不满。可是现在又有个人来分担了，而且他刚走进大门那天，鬼魂就被他赶跑了，至今仍无影无踪。这本是一种赐福，然而他取代了它的位置，又带来了另一种纠缠：黑尔涂满牛油和酸酪的脸，他自己勒着铁嚼子的嘴；天知道，愿意的话，他还会告诉她些什么。
