Both old hands went up with a gesture of importance. Two!
She’d caught two children last night. Two angels since first dark. The spring love-making was bearing fruit early this fall.
“When’s de white folks comin’ home?” she asked with a sudden change of expression.
Big Sue didn’t know for certain, but she thought soon as white frost came to kill the fever.
“How come you want to know?” Big Sue was curious.
Maum Hannah hoped they would hurry and come while she was well and able to talk with them. Something was on her mind, worrying her, and she wanted to get it settled. She was fretted about the graveyard. It was too full. Every grave dug lately uncovered old bones. There was no more room, and a new graveyard ought to be started.
“Do, Jedus!” Big Sue exclaimed. “I sho’ would hate to be de first one buried in a new graveyard. Dey say you wouldn’ never rest, not till Judgment Day, if you gits buried first, off by you’ lonesome self.”
“Not if you trust Gawd, honey.”
“I trust Gawd, Maum Hannah, but I ever did hear dat de first one to be bury in a new graveyard is bound to be unrestless.”
A gentle smile shone on Maum Hannah’s face. “I know, honey. I ever did hear so too. Gawd knows if it’s so or not. But I done made up my mind to dis: I’m willin’ to be de first one. I’m gwine ask de white folks to set off a piece o’ new ground an’ when my time is come to let me be de first one to be buried in em.”