Breeze could hardly see for the mist in his eyes, but he knew Leah was dying for one of her girls gave a long piercing death-cry.
“You is sho’ ruint now, Big Sue!” Bina said distinctly.
“You spit in my face an’ I’ll kill you de same way!”
“Hush, Ma. Fo’ Gawd’s sake, hush!” Joy plead.
“Leah’s de one stole my hog,” Big Sue bawled, “Leah’s de very one!”
“Hush, Ma! Fo’ Gawd’s sake, hush! Uncle Bill, do come make Ma go home.”
Next morning Big Sue was too ill to get out of bed. Joy kept cool green collard leaves tied on her forehead, and rubbed the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet with tallow, but she groaned and complained with every breath.
Joy sent Breeze with some sweetened bread for Leah’s children to eat with their dinner, but he took a long time to get there. Dread made his feet lag. He slunk along the path, scared by every moving shadow. Ready to jump out of his skin at the crackle of a twig.
He felt relieved when he saw Uncle Bill in April’s yard helping make Leah’s coffin out of clean pine boards lately sawed at the saw-mill. As the sharp plane smoothed the wood, yellow curls fell on the ground. One string exactly Leah’s length and another her breadth, showed how to fit the box to her size.