Florida -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction; Triangles (Interpersonal relations) -- Fiction
There seemed to be no liberty allowed, it was a very exact
measure that Jinny was treading; the tracks made by her heel, the broad
spread of her foot, and the five toes in the white dust, followed each
other regularly in even zigzags which described half circles. Thus
swaying herself rhythmically, turning now a little to the right, now a
little to the left, Jinny slowly approached Mrs. Johnson, who regarded
her impassively, continuing to trot Nando without change of expression.
But when Jinny had come within a distance of fifteen feet, suddenly Mrs.
Johnson rose, dropped her offspring (who took it philosophically), and
began in her turn to sway herself gently from side to side, and then,
with arms akimbo, her bare feet performing the same slow, exact
evolutions, she advanced with gravity to meet Jinny, the two now joining
in a crooning song. They met, circled round each other three times with
the same deliberate step and motion, their song growing louder and
louder. Then Mrs. Johnson shook her skirts, flung out her arms with a
wild gesture, and stopped as suddenly as she had begun, walking back to
her door-step and picking up Nando, while Jinny, advancing and taking up
a comfortable position on one broad foot (idly stroking its ankle
meanwhile with the dust-whitened sole of the other), the two fell into
conversation, with no allusion either by word or look to the mystic
exercises of the moment before.
"Howdy, Mis' Johnson?" said Jinny, as though she had just come up.
"How's Mister Johnson dis mawnin'? Speck he's bettah; I year he wuz."
"Yessum, Miss Jinny More, yessum. He's bettah, dat's a fac'; he's mighty
nigh 'bout well agin, Mister Johnson is, tank de Lawd!"
"Save us! what mistering and missussing!" said Celestine to herself. She
watched them a moment longer, the colored people being still a profound
mystery to her. Then she emerged from her bush-bordered path, and making
her way to Mrs. Johnson, hurriedly delivered her message: Mrs. Harold
would like to have her come to the eyrie for a while, to act as nurse
for Mrs. Rutherford.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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