Part 63 (2/2)
Don't leggo my hand, Joe. Layin' here with my eyes shut, it's just like he was talkin' hisself. He's--he's like your papa was, Essie, big and strong.”
”Yes, darlin'.”
”Is that the doctor? Is Lizzie Marks come back? Is that--”
”No; not yet, ma.”
”You're all tired out, Essie baby. Look at your little face! Go wash it, baby, and cool it off before old man Gibbs comes.”
”It ain't hot, ma.”
”He brought you into the world, Essie baby, and I don't want him to see it--to see it all--all--”
”I'm all right, ma. Lemme stay by you.”
”Go wash your face, Ess. Ma says go wash your face.”
”You shut up, Jimmie Birdsong--it ain't your face!”
”You know all righty, missy, why she wants you to wash it--you know--”
”Ma, he keeps fussin' with me! Jimmie, please don't.”
”Aw, I ain't, neither, ma. She's always peckin' at me. I--I ain't mad at her; but I want her to wash that--that stuff off her face.”
”Jimmie!”
Her lips quivered, and she glanced toward the stranger, with her lips drooping over her eyes like curtains to her shame; and he smiled at her with eyes as soft as spring rain, his voice a caress.
”Go, little lady. You're all tired out and too pretty and too sweet not to wash your face and--cool it off.”
”She's gotta go, or I'll get her in a corner and rub--”
”I'm goin', ain't I, Jimmie? Honest, the minute we make up you begin pickin' a fuss again.”
”Oh, my children!”
”Oh, Gawd, there she goes off again! Why don't old man Gibbs come? Lay her down, Joe; she can't breathe that way. Look! Her hands are all blue-like. Hold her up, Joe! Oh, Gawd, why don't old man Gibbs come?
She's all shakin'--all shakin'!”
”No, I ain't. What you cryin' there at the foot of the bed for, Essie?
It ain't no time to cry now, darlin'. It's like it says on the crocheted lamp-mat your papa's aunt did for us--'G.o.d is Good!' Where is that mat, Essie? I--I ain't seen it round for--so--long. G.o.d is good!
G.o.d--is--good! Where is that mat, Essie?”
”It's round somewheres, ma. It's old and worn out--in the rag-bag, maybe.”
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