Up over the hump of the cat’s back she looked at her. She saw the safety pin holding the hem of the dress up. Saw the dirty torn dress, the plaits sticking out on her head, hair matted where the plaits had come undone, the muddy shoes with the wad of gum peeping out from between the cheap soles, the soiled socks, one of which had been walked down into the heel of the shoe. He was limp in her arms, but she rubbed her face in his fur. Geraldine went to the radiator and picked up the cat. “Look.” He pointed to the radiator, where the cat lay, its blue eyes closed, leaving only an empty, black, and helpless face. “What is this?” Her voice was mild, as though asking a perfectly reasonable question. There was only the slightest smell of singed fur. It slithered down and fell on the radiator behind the sofa.
#Geraldine the bluest eye full#
They both fell, and in falling, Junior let go the cat, which, having been released in mid-motion, was thrown full force against the window.
Junior tried to push her away, but she grabbed the arm which was swinging the cat. Still screaming, Pecola reached for Junior’s hand.
#Geraldine the bluest eye free#
The cat’s free paws were stiffened, ready to grab anything to restore balance, its mouth wide, its eyes blue streaks of horror. With a movement both awkward and sure he snatched the cat by one of its hind legs and began to swing it around his head in a circle. He had seen that expression many times as the animal responded to his mother’s touch. He saw the cat stretching its head and flattening its eyes. Junior, curious at not hearing her sobs, opened the door, and saw her squatting down rubbing the cat’s back. The blue eyes in the black face held her. Pecola rubbed the cat’s head he whined, his tongue flicking with pleasure. He was black all over, deep silky black, and his eyes, pointing down toward his nose, were bluish green. Momentarily distracted from her fear, she squatted down to touch him, her hands wet from the tears. When something soft and furry moved around her ankles, she jumped, and saw it was the cat. The tears came fast, and she held her face in her hands. Pecola’s banging on the door increased his gasping, high-pitched laughter. “No!” He pushed her down, ran out the door that separated the rooms, and held it shut with his hands. When she started toward the doorway, Junior leaped in front of her. Pecola touched the scratched place on her face and felt tears coming. Junior was laughing and running around the room clutching his stomach delightedly.
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