d biddies their drinks on the porch, she dropped the empty serving tray. When Mrs. Cullinan screamed, Mary! she picked up the womans favorite casserole shaped like a fish and two of the green glass coffee cups in readiness. When Mrs. Cullinan rounded the corner of the kitchen door, Marguerite dropped them on the tiled floor. Mrs. Cullinan fell on the floor, picked up shards of the cups and screwed up her face to cry. Old speckled-face leaned down and asked, Who did it, Viola? Was it Mary? Who did it?Everything was happening so fast I cant remember whether her action preceded her words, but I know that Mrs. Cullinan said, Her names Margaret, goddamn it, her names Margaret! and she threw a wedge of the broken plate at me. It could have been the hysteria, which put her aim off, but the flying crockery caught Miss Glory right over her ear and she started screaming.I left the front door wide open so all the neighbors could hear.Thus, Marguerite Johnson, who changed her name to Maya Angelou during the 1960s, showed her reaction to being called out of name, one of the greatest insults imaginable. Her horror and rage, and the retribution she meted out, came from the deepest part of her, striking back at the things closest to Mrs. Cullinans heart. Her matter of fact reasoning to the justice of her actions is best summed up in these final words from this chapter.Mrs. Cullinan was right about one thing. My name wasnt Mary....
