‘ “You took Baby away,” I said. „That’s what.”
‘So she jumped up and said real low, real scared, but real strong: „Something struck the house. An aeroplane. Perhaps there was an earthquake. We’ll talk about Baby after breakfast.”
‘I said, „Give her more, Janie.”
‘A big gob of water hit her on the face and chest and made her nightgown stick to her, which was the kind of thing that upset her most. Her braids stood straight up in the air, more and more, till they dragged her standing straight up. She opened her mouth to yell and the powder puff off the dresser rammed into it. She clawed it out.
‘ “What are you doing? What are you doing?” she says, crying again.
‘Janie just looked at her and put her hands behind her, real smug. „We haven’t done anything,” she said.
‘And I said, “Not yet we haven’t. You going to get Baby back?”
‘And she screamed at us, „Stop it! Stop it! Stop talking about that mongoloid idiot! It’s no good to anyone, not even itself! How could I ever make believe it’s mine?”
‘I said, „Get rats, Janie.”
‘There was a scuttling sound along the baseboard. Miss Kew covered her face with her hands and sank down on the chair. „Not rats,” she said. „There are no rats here.” Then something squeaked and she went all to pieces. Did you ever see anyone really go to pieces?’