Their conversation is like a gently wicked dance: sound meets sound, curtsies, shimmies, and retires. Another sound enters but is upstaged by still another: the two circle each other and stop. Sometimes their words move in lofty spirals; other times they take strident leaps, and all of it is punctuated with warm-pulsed laughter-like the throb of a heart made of jelly. The edge, the curl, the thrust of their emotions is always clear to Frieda and me. We do not, cannot, know the meanings of all their words, for we are nine and ten years old. So we watch their faces, their hands, their feet, and listen for truth in timbre.
The conversation unfolds like an intricate dance, where sounds playfully interact as they ebb and flow, causing one to overshadow the other. The participants engage in a dynamic exchange that can take on either elevated flights or sharp, forceful turns, all accompanied by heartfelt laughter, reminiscent of a heartbeat. The emotional nuances are vivid and palpable to Frieda and the narrator, even if the full meanings of the words elude their young understanding.
Despite not grasping every word, the two girls keenly observe the expressive gestures of their elders—their faces, hands, and movements—seeking to uncover deeper truths through these nonverbal cues. This vibrant interplay of sound and emotion resonates deeply with them, forming a tapestry of understanding that transcends language. Toni Morrison illustrates the way children perceive the complexities of adult interactions, even as they navigate their limited comprehension.
