In Search of Satisfaction Read Free

his daughter, away from the shit of this life. He saw no way. He had nothing. Lately, he had begun to pick up coins and bills lying around the house, even selling things “for the Master” and putting the coins by for “someday.” Sometimes he even gave Bessel money for his first daughter, Ruth. She took it with a smile, holding his hand a little longer than necessary. Bessel liked money, but she did like Josephus, too.
    Young as Yinyang was, her world was difficult. Yin knew who her mother was. She wanted to love her, but her mother was always asleep. She knew who her father was, because the old man Krupt, her white father, hated her, struck out at her often, called her “black bastard!” Sometimes Yin (as her black father called her) would crawl into bed with her mother, hold her as she slept. But there was often vomit and, lately, feces on her mother, which Yin would try to clean. She tried to comb her mother’s hair, change her clothes. The old, old, once grand clothes were dusty, molding. They fell apart when Yin tried to put them on her mother or play grown-up lady in them. Yin cried, often, as she moved around her mother’s rooms; the windows closed, the shades drawn, the rooms stank, so gray, so sad, so gloomy. So dead.
    Once when the nightclothes were a bit ragged, Yin proposed to her mother to get some new ones made. Her mother smiled, said, “Yessssss, I think I will.” After a bit of thinking, Mistress Krupt continued smiling and said, “Look in that drawer, look in all my drawers. And look in that closet, the small box, I think, way in the corner in back. Get the money there. And go order some clothing for me. And some sheets. Get me everything I need, my little light slave daughter.” She laughed. “Get Madame Carlene Befoe, the rich bitch, to tell you who sews for her.” Yin was about ten years old.
    Yin took the money to Josephus. “We got to go to that lady, Miz Befoe, to find out who sews for her. Then we got to ride ole Sal and the buggy into town and get some material to make mama some new clothes. Why, Pajo, we got a heap of gold money here to get us some clothes, too! C’mon, let’s go now!”
    Josephus looked down at the box of gold coins in the hands of his daughter and he saw his dreams more clearly.
    “Wher you git that, baby?”
    “From mama. C’mon, let’s go!”
    “She tole you where to git that gold?”
    “Yes, Pajo. Ain’t it a lot?”
    “Where she tole you to git it from?”
    “Her drawers, her closet.”
    “Was … was it any mo? Thar?”
    “I didn’t look everywher, Pajo, cause this was enough, I’m sure on it.”
    “Giv it to me, so it don’t spill everwhere. Let’s wrap it up good and safe.”
    “Sho, Pajo. We goin now?”
    “Let me go hitch Sal, you go get washed up, then we go.” Yin ran off excited to be going somewhere.
    Josephus took the box, took half the gold out and hid it. He hitched the wagon up and, when Yin came running back out, they drove away. Before they returned, he had bought shoes for Yin and even hired a teacher by “errand of the Mistress” for Yin to go to each morning to learn to read and write. He bought nothing for himself. His dreams were his satisfaction.
    He took her to school faithfully. She taught him what she learned each day. They both grew. His plans grew huge. He stole more and sold more of the things he could. He had enough to go away, but he kept staying for more. Satan’s philosophy is like that, enough is not enough.
    Josephus began to keep the Krupts’ liquor right on the kitchen table, with glasses ready. He kept liquor in their rooms; though they had been doing a good job of that, now they didn’t have to think about it at all. It was always just there, like magic. He also began rummaging in their rooms when he knew they were dead drunk and Yin was asleep. In time, he found much. He also began to tell Yin to ask about her birth certificate. There was none, it seemed. So “the Mistress” sent money to the