He ran to April’s house, but stopped at the step for a tiny baby was crying inside. He ran all the way to Zeda’s and borrowed a piece of fire, then flew home. As he made up the fire for Big Sue, she walked around the room unsteadily, mumbling between her teeth. If April mistreated her Joy now, she herself would put a “hand” on him; one so strong that it would wither his hands! And his feet! She couldn’t keep still or stop talking. Her tongue lashed April and Joy too, and each word was a poison sting. Who was he to blame Joy? He had children scattered from one end of this “Neck” to the other. Now he cursed Joy as if she were lowest of the low. It was a shame! A heavy shame! Joy must leave him at once!
The wind had risen and whistled through the trees, tossing the branches, making them moan. Big Sue talked on and on. Breeze was glad when she went back to April’s cabin, although she left him without a bite to eat. He’d go somewhere and get supper. Maybe Uncle Bill was at home. He’d go see.
To his surprise April was there too, sitting by the fire, miserably dejected, while Uncle Bill talked to him, trying to cheer him.
Breeze had hardly got inside when Zeda arrived and, brushing past Uncle Bill, walked up to April and put a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, April. I got somet’ing to say to you.” Bitter spite hurried her words.
But April, instead of looking up as she bade him, leaned forward and spat in the fire.
“Wha’ ails you, now, Zeda?” he asked curtly.
“I kin easy say what ails me; dat new-born child yonder ’side Joy is my gran’! But e’s you’ gran’, too! Joy had dat chile for Sherry, an’ you ain’ gwine put no dis-grace-ment on em. No. If nobody else can’ hinder you, I kin. I already got you’ feet so dey can’ rest. Wid Leah’s death-sheet.”
April heard her, and although he didn’t answer, his jaw set his teeth hard enough to bite a ten-penny nail in two. Zeda smiled.
“You may as well give in, April,” she persisted. “Sherry’s you own, an’ who is Breeze, but you’ own? Ev’body knows dat. It’s a wonder somebody ain’ cut you’ throat long time ago. If you wa’n’t so lucky you’d ’a’ been in hell wid some o’ dem women you sent dere.”
“How come you meddlin’ in my business so raven?” April suddenly flashed out.