Tucker reached to the table beside him. He grabbed his whip and said, "And all the training I gives you, boy, it all goes wasted because some other nigger gets your place. The job I've been training you for all these years. Some other nigger is getting it."

Monk glanced at the whip in Tucker's hand. He asked, "You really been training me to be overseer?"

Tucker lied, "Why in hell you think I've been wasting time on you, boy? 'Cause I love you?"

Monk kept staring at the whip.

Holding it to Monk in a glistening curl, Tucker said, "I thought I was training a nigger to be a man. A master. I always knows it's hard to keep down a smart nigger. Sure, dumb niggers are slaves. They're just animals. But not you, boy. You're smart. And you smart niggers go out and get what you want." Tucker's eyes glistened. "Don't you, boy? Don't you go out and get what you want?"

Monk grabbed the whip.

"Yeah! That's the kid I know. Go on. Let them see who you really are. Let them see what you know about mastering and whipping and overseeing. Go up to that big house right now, boy. Go up to that big house and show your white brother. You ain't scared of your brother 'cause he's white, is you?"

"Scared?" Monk bellowed. "Scared of my white... ?" He laughed. "Hell no I ain't scared of him."

Claudia snatched a butcher knife from a pine drawer and shrilled at Monk, "Take this along with you, Monk. Take along this knife and drive in a few holes for us."

Monk gripped the coiled whip in one hand and the butcher knife in the other. He said, "I'll go right now."

280.

"And it's about time, too," Tucker said, following Mm to the door.

Chad and Claudia Tucker stood in the doorway of the shack and watched Monk make his way up the hill.

Claudia said to her husband, "What if they finds out we put him up to this?"

"Who the shit cares?" Tucker said, and turning back into the shack, he added, "We'll be gone by the time he even gets there."

Claudia said, "Why don't you start digging up the money? I'll just finish hi here."

"Right," Chad said, quickly going for the shovel.

He and Claudia were both anxious to get started on their way to Jack Grouse's.

The midmorning sun was hot, and as Monk hurried along on the path to the big house, he ripped off his shirt, tossing it to a clump of ferns alongside the path.

Near the Shed, Lilly called out to him, "Mama Gomorrah touches me again, Monk. She says I got a sucker inside me." Lilly was happy and excited this morning.

Not stopping to talk to her, Monk called, "Tell me later."

"What you so mad about now?" Lilly asked, running along beside Monk on the path.

"Nothing to do with you," he mumbled.

"Didn't you get the money? Did you forget about digging up the money, Monk?"

He suddenly stopped. He realized that the Tuckers had not known that their money had been stolen when they told him about Peter and the West Indies. The Tuckers had been in a good mood.

Starting to walk again, Monk said, "We'll talk about the money later." He knew it was safe where he had moved it.

Still running alongside him, Lilly asked, "Why you got that knife and that bullwhip, Monk? What's you doing with them? And why you taking this path to the big house?"

"None of your business," he muttered.

281.

"You're going to do trouble at the big house, ain't you? You're going to fight there."

"I'll tell you when it's over."

"Monk? What if you lose?"

"I ain't going to lose."

"But you're a nigger, Monk. They don't let niggers win at the big house."

He repeated, "I ain't going to lose."

"But if they kill you, Monk, who'll know where the money is?"

"I ain't going to lose!"

Still running alongside him, Lilly said, "Maybe I can help you, Monk. Can I help you?"

"Maybe," he said, thinking now of how he would approach his white brother, Peter.

Then, seeing the roof of the big house, he slowed as he heard voices in the stables.

Stopping, Monk told Lilly where to wait.

Monk stood alone in front of the stables.

He called, "White boy? White boy, you hiding in there?"

Nero appeared in the doorway.

Monk shouted, "Not you, pet nigger. I've got no troubles with you. It's my white brother I come for."

Peter emerged from the shadows behind Nero. He saw Monk standing in the sun. Monk was half-naked and holding a whip in one hand, a long knife in the other.

"Who you been talking to, Monk?" Peter called.

Monk answered, "I ain't been talking. I been listening. I been listening to stories Tucker brings back about you and me having the same daddy, white boy "

Stepping in front of Nero, Peter asked, "Who told Tucker that?"

"Never minds who told him that," Monk called back. "Why don't you tell me why you ain't making me overseer here?"

Peter answered, "Because I think Nero will do a better job than you, that's why."

Monk unfurled his whip in the air, with a loud crack. And as he held up the knife in his other hand, he called, 282.

"Then you come outside here, brother, and we sees who does a better job of this."

Moving alongside Peter, Nero held a pitchfork.

Seeing Nero, Monk called, "Let the white man fight his own fights, pet nigger." He snapped the whip again, and dust rose around him in the yard.

As Monk was speaking, Peter quickly reached toward the whip hanging inside the door of the stable. But his anger did not match Monk's. He did not want to fight him.

Nero pulled a knife from the wall above the rain barrel. And holding the knife in his hand, Nero said to Peter, "He means it. That crazy guy means it. Give me that whip. I wants to fight him." Nero grabbed for the whip coiled in Peter's hand.

But Peter would not release the whip.

Standing in the sun, Monk called to Peter, "What's the matter? You tired from pestering black wenches last night? Tired from shooting spunk all over my Lilly?"

Peter shouted, "I didn't know Lilly was your woman, Monk."

"She's having my baby, white boy."

"Then why do you want to fight me?"

Monk's upper lip curled. " 'Cause I hate you. And I want you to leave my woman alone."

"I will. I don't want your woman." Peter did not want to fight anyone for Lilly.

Monk repeated, "I want you to leave my Lilly alone."

"I said I will."

"Go find another white bitch to take your dead woman's place."

Peter snatched the knife from Nero's hand and rushed out into the sun toward Monk.

That was all that Monk had to say-to talk about Melissa.

Monk's bullwhip cracked at Peter as he came hurling out of the stables. Although Peter was quick to jump aside, the tip of Monk's whip caught his shirt, half-shredding it from his chest.

Peter waited, coldly studying Monk.

283.

Crouching, Monk moved toward Peter like a crab. He wagged the whip in one hand and made jabbing movements with Ms knife. He then made one, two, three moves to strike out at Peter with his whip. Suddenly he brought it back behind his back, and it sang through the air.

Peter jumped to his left, casting his own whip at Monk as he moved.

He missed Monk. And as he curled the whip over Ms shoulder, Monk's wMp snapped again at him.

Peter was Mt on his side. He felt his flesh burn. But he moved quickly, keeping Monk on guard, watching him dash back and forth in mock attacks.

Monk was fast on Ms feet.

Peter wMpped at him now as he moved.

He Mt Monk; blood appeared in a red line across Monk's bare chest.

Then Monk and Peter stood staring at each other, waiting for a next move. A crowd of anxious black faces was gathering in front of the stables.

A black man called, "Help Master Peter." A woman shouted, "That nigger's going to kill Master Peter." Some black people were even moving to grab Monk, but moving cautiously, in fear of Monk's whip.

Peter ignored the black people's loyalty to him, their dislike of Monk. He called to them, "Keep back." He glared coldly at Monk, calling to the black people, "This is my fight."

Monk was crouching forward to strike again as Peter called to the people.

More cries rose against Monk.~_ Watching Monk move, Peter said, "Monk burned your houses. Now he-"

Peter's words were broken by the crack of Monk's whip. Peter had foreseen it, and he moved in time.

Soon, though, he and Monk were charging each other again like two angry stallions-one black, one wMte. The air was filled with the cracks of their whips, followed by the softer sound of feet dancing on the dirt as they attacked and recoiled, rushed forward and withdrew.

Now the tips of Monk's whip hit Peter's back. There 284.

was a sharp digging sound. When the whip snapped hi the air, the crack echoed and the whip quickly recoiled, thudding onto the ground.

Peter's back was bleeding, and he was cut on Ms thigh, but he avoided the next snap of Monk's whip. He was learning the rhythms of Monk's tactics.

Monk was still the aggressor, bluffing a snap of his whip and then following it with a quick movement that dug into Peter's flesh.

Peter scored a deep strike, ripping the skin from Monk's shoulder.

But then the heel of Peter's boot slipped on a rock. He fell to the ground.

Monk ran toward him with his knife.

Lifting both legs, Peter caught Monk's stomach on the soles of his boots and threw him to the ground behind him.

Peter sprang to his feet and flailed his whip at Monk's rolling body. The third snap caught him on the calf of his leg.

But Monk was standing again. His half-naked body was covered with dirt and blood. He was gasping now for air. But his brown face was set with hatred.

He moved toward Peter again, toying the whip at him, jabbing the knife as he moved. And suddenly he curled the whip sideways in a strong throw.

He struck Peter's face.

A line of blood gushed across Peter's forehead.

Trying to keep the blood from dripping into his eyes with the perspiration, Peter made his first lunge at Monk.