“Candace.” Mother said.
“Hush, Benjy.” Caddy said. “Mother wants you a minute. Like a good boy. Then you can come back. Benjy.”
Caddy let me down, and I hushed.
“Let him stay here, Mother. When he’s through looking at the fire, then you can tell him.”
“Candace.” Mother said. Caddy stooped and lifted me. We staggered. “Candace.” Mother said.
“Hush.” Caddy said. “You can still see it. Hush.”
“Bring him here.” Mother said. “He’s too big for you to carry. You must stop trying. You’ll injure your back. All of our women have prided themselves on their carriage. Do you want to look like a washer-woman.”
“He’s not too heavy.” Caddy said. “I can carry him.”
“Well, I dont want him carried, then.” Mother said. “A five year old child. No, no. Not in my lap. Let him stand up.”
“If you’ll hold him, he’ll stop.” Caddy said. “Hush.” she said. “You can go right back. Here. Here’s your cushion. See.”