Mentally "stepping over the border lines of the map" like a game of emotional hopscotch, Maya, returned by train without explanation to the "Southern bitter wormwood" of Stamps, fears that she will drop off the edge of the earth. Sensitive to scrutiny since her brutal St. Louis experience, she rejects Uncle Willie's pity as the sympathy of a cripple. Unmoored from past security, she allies herself spiritually and academically with Mrs. Bertha Flowers, a mannerly, gossamer presence "sweet-milk fresh," whose "lessons in living" introduce her to the refined art of recitation. The boost in self-esteem is the lifeline that Maya needs to carry her through post-rape trauma. Inexplicably, Momma Henderson, a perpetual enforcer eager to carry out her interpretation of scriptural decree, shatters Maya's upbeat mood by forcing her to her knees and whipping her for (unknowingly) slighting God. The senseless violence to Maya's spirit, although not on a par with Mr. Freeman's rupture of her tender body, epitomizes the children's complete powerlessness at the whims of adults.
