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The sound from the retreating wagon dwindled and ceased.
For a moment Catfish Row held its breath; then its windows and doors flew open, and poured its life out into the incomparable autumn weather. The crisis had passed. There had been no arrests.
Serena stepped forth, her arms filled with the morning’s wash.
“‘Ain’t it hahd tuh be er nigger!’” someone sang in a loud, clear voice. And everybody laughed.
Down the street, like an approaching freight train, came the drays, jarring the building and rattling the windows, as the heavy tires rang against the cobbles.
Bess and Porgy came out with the others, and seated themselves against the wall in the gracious sunlight. Of the life, yet apart from it, sufficient unto each other, they did not join in the loud talk and badinage that was going on about them. Like people who had come on a long, dark journey, they were content to sit, and breathe deeply of the sun. The baby was sleeping in Bess’s arms, and from time to time she would sing a stave to it in a soft, husky voice.
Into the court strode a group of stevedores. Their strong white teeth flashed in the sunshine, and their big, panther-like bodies moved easily among the women and children that crowded about them.
“Wey all de gals?” called one in a loud, resonant voice. “Mus’ be dey ain’t know dat dis is pay-day.”
Two women who were sitting near Porgy and Bess rose and went forward, with their arms twined about each other’s waists. In a few minutes they were out of the crowd again, each looking up with admiring eyes into the face of one of the men.
“Mens an’ ’omans ain’t de same,” said Porgy. “One mont’ ago dem gals been libbin’ wid dey own mens. Den de storm tek um. Now dey is fuhgit um a’ready, an’ gibbin’ dey lub tuh de nex’.”
“No; dey is diff’rent fuh true,” replied Bess. “An’ yuh won’t nebber onduhstan’. All two dem gal gots baby fuh keep alibe.” She heaved a deep sigh; and then added, “Dey is jus’ ’oman, an’ nigger at dat. Dey is doin’ de bes’ dey kin—dat all.”
She was looking down at the baby while she spoke, and when she raised her eyes and looked at Porgy, he saw that they were full of tears.
“But you, Bess; you is diff’rent f’om dat?” he said, with a gently interrogating note in his voice.
“Dat ’cause Gawd ain’t mek but one Porgy!” she told him. “Any ’oman gots tuh be decent wid you. But I gots fuh tell yuh de trut’, widout Porgy I is jus’ like de res’.”
A shadow drifted across their laps, and they lifted their faces to the sky.
A solitary buzzard had left the circle that had hung high in the air all morning, and was swinging back and forth over the Row, almost brushing the parapet of the roof as it passed. While Porgy and Bess looked, it suddenly raised the points of its wings, reached tentative legs downward, spread its feet wide, and lit on the edge of the roof directly over their room.
“My Gawd!” exclaimed Maria, who was standing near. “Crown done sen’ he buzzud back fuh bring trouble. Knock um off, Porgy. Fer Gawd’ sake, knock um off befo’ he settle!”
The cripple reached out and picked up a brick-bat. The happiness had left his face, and his eyes were filled with fear. With a swing of his long, powerful arm, he sent the missile on its errand.
It struck the parapet directly beneath the bird.
With a spasmodic flap of wings, the black body lifted itself a few feet from the building, then settled suddenly back. For a moment it hopped awkwardly about, as though the roof were red hot beneath its feet, then folded its wings, drew its nude head in upon its breast, and surveyed the court with its aloof, malevolent eyes.
“T’row agin,” Maria called, handing Porgy another brick-bat. But he seemed not to hear. His face quivered, and he hid it in his hands.
“Sonny,” the big negress called to a small boy who was standing near, looking at the bird with his mouth open. “Git out on de roof wid uh stick, an’ run dat bird away.”
But Porgy plucked at her skirt, and she looked down.
“Let um be,” he said in a hopeless voice. “It too late now. Ain’t yuh see he done settle, an’ he pick my room fuh light ober? It ain’t no use now. Yuh knows dat. It ain’t no use.”