Shrieks of laughter followed smacking kisses. Sherry’s accordion blared out. Then something went wrong. The joyful clamor died into a frightened hush as a long arm shot up. A razor flashed. A muttered curse was followed by a slap on a cheek. Everybody stood still for the length of a heart-beat. The muscles of the arms holding Breeze hardened. A long low hiss of sucked-in breath made him shiver with terror as the tall man leaned forward and said coolly:
“If yunnuh don’ quit dat doins’ it wouldn’ take me two minutes to come in dere an’ butt you’ brains out o’ you’ skull! We ain’ gwine hab no cuttin’ scrape here, not to-night, boys. Outen de lamps, Sherry. Outen de fire, too. Dis dance is done broke up!”
“No, Cun April,” Jake began pleading. “Nobody ain’ fightin’ now. Dem boys was just a-playin’. Dey ain’ gwine be rough no mo’. You wouldn’ broke up a dance not for a li’l’ prankin’, would you?”
The two fighters were held apart, one with his bullet head crouched forward, his fists clenched; the other with his razorless fingers reaching out to grab and strangle. April looked at them with a half smile.
“Put dem boys out de door, den, Jake. Dey ain’ fit to be wid ladies. Let ’em go wallow wid de hogs an’ cuss all dey please, so long as dey don’ cut wid no razor.”
But Uncle Bill spoke out, “Dey is too no-manners to wallow wid de hogs. Yes, suh. My hogs yonder to de barnyard is too nice to ’sociate wid any such mens. Cussin’ befo’ ladies! Dey makes me feel pure blush.”
Big Sue wanted to go home, but April and Uncle Bill said there’d be no more trouble, and as the accordion sang out with a low sad whine, another dance set was made up. Pairs of feet were already cutting happy capers patting flat-footed and with heel and toe.
They were going to black bottle, and that was a dance that beat the four-horse altogether. The cabin room, packed with a seething mass, rocked with the reeling and rolling inside it. The accordion’s mournful crying timed to the beat of the drum sounded faint above the confusion, but its pitiful wailing went clear through to Breeze’s very backbone.
Gusts of hot breath poured out through the window. The smoky lamps sputtered low. The yellow light grew dim. Little sharp outcries mixed with mad stormy thundering steps. Big Sue called out shrilly that she wanted to go! People get drunk if they listen to music too long. Sherry was squeezing out a mighty wicked tune. First thing they knew somebody would kick both those lamps off the mantelpiece and when the crowd started jumping out of the windows, they’d get trampled to death. She hadn’t forgotten how the last birth-night supper broke up in a terrible fight. April could hold those boys down a while, but when that music got to working in their blood, the devil himself couldn’t stop them.
She could feel that music going straight to her head, and she was a good quiet Christian woman. April laughed and put Breeze down and bowed low and said good night. Big Sue invited him to walk home with them and when he declined, saying he was tired and ready to go home to bed, she insisted, but he declared that he hadn’t the heart to get in Uncle Bill’s way. He’d see them to-morrow or some time soon.