She was stirring a pot on the hearth and the long spoon clattered against the iron sides she dropped it. “Who dat call me?” She limped backward a few halting paces and gazed at him with questioning eyes.
“Dis is me, old man Breeze! Git you birthin’ beads quick an’ come go home wid me!”
She stared at him vacantly. “Fo’ Gawd’s sake, who is you?” She whispered sharply.
“You don’ know me? Is you gone blind, Hannah?”
Her arms dropped weakly as she peered at him, taking in his bare feet, his patched clothes, his shirt, open at the neck, showing the swell of his throat, the panting of his breast. With a sudden burst of laughter she reached out and took his hand. “Lawd, Breeze, I thought sho’ you was Grampa’s sperit come fo’ me! You scared me well-nigh to death, son! Come on een an’ set down! Jedus, I’m glad to see you! But you is de very spit o’ Grampa!”
“I can’ set, Hannah. I ain’ Grampa’s sperit, but I sho’ did come to git you! My li’l’ gal is ’bout to die, Hannah. E can’ birth e chile to save life, no matter how hard e try. Git Gramma’s birthin’ beads. You got to go wid me. I couldn’ stan’ to le’ dat li’l’ gal die, an’ don’ do all I can to save em. E’s so pitiful in e pain.”
Maum Hannah grunted. “Pain don’ kill a ’oman, son. It takes pain to make em work steady till de task is done. I can’ stop no pain! No, Jedus! De gal might be well by now anyhow.”
But he was firm. “Listen to me, Hannah! You got to go home wid me to-night! Now! In a hurry! Make haste, too!”
“It’s a mighty black night since de moon is gone down.”
“Bein’ black don’ matter. I know de way. You come on, Hannah.”