ISRAEL
Mamma! Git me—!
(Lucy Belle grabs them roughly and pushes them through the door, Left, and closes it after them. They cry for several moments and then gradually stop.)
LUCY BELLE (with a little sigh, as she comes back to Center)
Reckon I bettah be on mah way. (Beginning to put on her hat and coat.) I ain’ nevah had no luck. Some gals gits by widout no trouble at all. I ain’ one-a dem kin’. Nuffin’ I evah done come out right—nuffin’ at all. Ef I starts anathin’ it’s boun’ ter go wrong. I—I’se conjuhed fo’ life.
AUNT REBECCA
Hush, chile! Don’ git down in de mouf like dat. Yo’ luck liable ter change any minute. Min’ did aftah I gits rid-a dem warts.
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ got no bus’ness wid all dese chillen. I’se a fool—Gawd knows I is. (Wistfully.) Ain’ only one niggah evah treated me decent. Gawd knows, he treated me right!
AUNT REBECCA