“Lawd, Zeda, you ought not to slip up on people dat way!” Big Sue scolded, but Zeda broke into a laugh. She stood in the door where the white cloth on her head made a clear spot against the darkness, but her face and hands were one with the night.
“Don’ le’ me stop you’ wishin’, Uncle Bill. Go on. I might give you luck.” Zeda’s teeth flashed as she sauntered in with noiseless barefoot steps. She couldn’t sit down; she was on her way to Bina’s birth-night supper at the Quarters. She just came by to see the boy-child Big Sue had brought from Sandy Island.
“E’s sleep right yonder in Joy’s bed.”
“Lawd, you got a sizable boy, enty? E looks mighty long. Long as Leah’s Brudge to me. I wouldn’ gi’ way a boy big as dat. E’s done raised.”
Again Breeze shut his eyes and pretended to sleep while Zeda leaned so low over him searching his face that he could feel her breath on his cheek.
“Don’ gaze at de child so hard, Zeda. You’ll wake em up.”
Big Sue was plainly out of temper, her tone was sour, pettish.
“I ain’ gwine wake em. I just want to see who e looks like. Leah says his mammy had em for April, but e don’ favor April to me.”
“Do, for Gawd’s sake, shut you’ mouth, Zeda! To hear Leah tell it, half de chillen on Blue Brook belongs to April, well as dem on Sandy Island. Leah don’ count nobody when e gits to talkin’ ’bout April.”
Zeda laughed. “I dunno, Big Sue. I told April to-day, if he don’ mind, he’s gwine catch up wid Uncle Isaac. De people say Uncle Isaac has fifty-two chillen livin’ right now.”