“He don’ want e’er thing,” Americy said, speaking gently. “Leave him be.”
“There was a rat, ol’ rat,” Stig began afresh. “Got shut in water-tank. Tin water-tank, not got no water in it. You ought to ’a’ seen ol’ rat! Skeeter Shoots he says to me, ‘Look at that-there rat, God knows, shut inside that-there tank. Been shut up three weeks since that-there rat got shut up since tank was open last. Skeeter Shoots says.”
Lethe turned back to the table, her elbows on the board, her knees crossed. Her body was bent slightly forward as if she were deeply fatigued.
“What’d you bring him here for?” she asked. “What’s he here for now?”
“What is it you know about him?” Theodosia asked sharply, turning suddenly on Lethe, unafraid in her sudden surprise.
“I know enough. I ain’t been borned so long ago for nothing.”
“A ham bone,” Stig began to whimper. “Ham-meat is right good now. Ham.”
“You can take him on away when you’ve done whatever you come for.”
“We all say, ‘Whoopee! come see ol’ rat.’ So weak in his legs he can’t walk on his feet. Crawl on his belly. Slow, go like a snail-bug. See ol’ rat go up stable. Ol’ rat. ‘Take ker, ol’ rat!’ We all watch ol’ rat go towarge corn room. Slow, slow, towarge corn room.” He made slow creeping gestures with his fingers on the floor.