Ruthie whispered, “You ever saw a baby bore?”
“Sure,” said Aggie. “Well, when’s she gonna have it?”
“Oh, not for a long, long time.”
“Well, how long?”
“Maybe not ‘fore tomorrow mornin’.”
“Shucks!” said Ruthie. “Ain’t no good watchin’ now, then. Oh! Look!”
The walking women had stopped. Rose of Sharon had stiffened, and she whined with pain. They laid her down on the mattress and wiped her forehead while she grunted and clenched her fists. And Ma talked softly to her. “Easy,” Ma said. “Gonna be all right—all right. Jus’ grip ya hans’. Now then, take your lip inta your teeth. Tha’s goodtha’s good.” The pain passed on. They let her rest awhile, and then helped her up again, and the three walked back and forth, back and forth between the pains.
Pa stuck his head in through the narrow opening. His hat dripped with water. “What ya shut the door for?” he asked. And then he saw the walking women.
Ma said, “Her time’s come.”
“Then—then we couldn’ go ’f we wanted to.”