SLIM
Steady in season. I fishes w’en I ain’ wukkin’ dere. Dat’s why we move ovah yere from Carter Street—ter be handy ter de rivah. Don’ yo’ all go lyin’ ’bout me livin’ off Lucy Belle,—’less yo’ lookin’ fo’ trouble.
(Aunt Rebecca glowers at him and remains silent for a brief interval. Slim lights his cigarette and sits astride a chair, with the back to the front.)
AUNT REBECCA (at length)
She got too many chillen.
SLIM
Ain’ nobody knows dat bettah den I do. No niggah an’ gwine ter take up wid her now. Mink Hall was crazy fo’ ter marry her one time. Huh—he wouldn’ look sideways at her now ef he was ter pass her in de street.
(The wind blows and whistles through the cracks. Aunt Rebecca straightens up stiffly and rolls her eyes.)
AUNT REBECCA (in low, frightened tones)
Gawd-a-massy! Yo’ ain’ gwine ter git me—yo’ ole hussy!