A spasm of pity smoothed the mistress' drawn cheeks, as she felt gripped
by the roughened brownish face, gnarled by its helpless acceptance of
the death of hope. "Do you.... Have you found a house, Stella? Do you
know where you're going?"
"Yessum. Ah knows whar Ah'se gwine."
"And you're going----"
"Home, Miss' Mary."
"Home?"
"Yessum...." Feeling that more was required, her face wrinkled with an
old shy eagerness. "To Macon, Miss' Mary; Macon, Georgy. Whar me 'n' Tom
comed f'um, afore we done moved to Atlanta.... Afore we done come here."
"We'll hate to lose you from the mountain, Stella."
"Yessum." She recrossed her hands uneasily, and straightened up from the
table against which her hip had swayed for its solid rest.
Mary Judson studied the face of the mother before her with a hidden
hunger, trying to read in its blackened lineaments the elusive recipe
that had brought that flicker of happiness at the mention of home.
"Your boys.... You have Ed still, haven't you?"
"No'm." The rich tones grew gossipy, in a detached way. "Ah ain't got
none of 'em. Jim he die fu'st, Miss' Mary; he die w'en de mine oxploded.
De Lawd tuk him fu'st; he wuz a good chile. Den Babe. He wuz mah baby;
dey shot him. Dat wuz two. Den Will an' Diana dey die, w'en de house
burn down. Dey shoot dem too. Dey wuz good chillun too, Miss' Mary. Ah
ain't ben 'specially a sinful 'ooman; Ah s'pose dey desu'ved it somehow,
Ah caint figger out.... Dat makes ... yessum, dat makes fo'. Tom he die;
he wuz ole, it wuz his time. Dat lef' Ed. De las' time dey bruk up dem
strikers, dey shoot Ed." She gulped, closed her eyes a minute.
"I--I hadn't heard."
"No'm. Ed wuz diff'runt. Ed he kill a man. A white man. But de jedge
tu'n him loose. Dey wuzn't nothin' wrong dar, de jedge he say. Dey made
Ed a depity. Den dey kill him....
"Ah tole dem boys, Miss' Mary, Ah tole 'em a powerful time ago, hit
wuzn't no nigger's business ter meddle in white folkses' fusses. Dey
seed diff'runt. De Lawd done tuk 'em all, 'cep' me. Ah ain't got no
business here, Miss' Mary. Ain't got no folkses here. Ah got two
brudders in Macon, Georgy. So Ah'se movin'."
Mary bit her lips, to steady her words, to force back the tears that
insistently crept down her own cheeks. "Anything that Mr. Judson can do
for you, Stella----"
The negress dug around in the littered bulge of the handbag the mistress
had given her, and brought up a greasy leather-covered book. "Dis here's
Diana's bank book, what she save f'um her wu'k. Ah thought maybe Mr.
Judson could git me de money. Dar's thuhty fo' dollars, she tole me. An'
Ah got Tom's benefit money f'um de Galileum Fishermens, it comed in a
letter." She discovered the creased check, and handed it over. "Den
Ah'll have some money over w'en Ah gits to Macon; dey'll be gladder to
see me; you know how it is, Miss' Mary. An' if Peter could drive me 'n'
mah stuff to de depot, if he wuzn't too busy----"
"Of course I'll see that you have Peter. What day are you leaving?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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