talked off her head, she'd say it. "I used to be strong as a mule, Jenny." Called me "Jenny" when she was
babbling, and I can bear witness to that. Tall and strong. The two of us on a cord of wood was as good as
two men. Hurt her like the devil not to be able to raise her head off the pillow. Still can't figure why she
thought she needed schoolteacher, though. I wonder if she lasted, like I did. Last time I saw her she
couldn't do nothing but cry, and I couldn't do a thing for her but wipe her face when I told her what they
done to me. Somebody had to know it. Hear it. Somebody. Maybe she lasted. Schoolteacher wouldn't treat
her the way he treated me. First beating I took was the last. Nobody going to keep me from my children.
Hadn't been for me taking care of her maybe I would have known what happened. Maybe Halle was
trying to get to me. I stood by her bed waiting for her to finish with the slop jar. When I got her back in the
bed she said she was cold. Hot as blazes and she wanted quilts. Said to shut the window. I told her no. She
needed the cover; I needed the breeze. Long as those yellow curtains flapped, I was all right. Should have
heeded her. Maybe what sounded like shots really was. Maybe I would have seen somebody or something.
Maybe. Anyhow I took my babies to the corn, Halle or no. Jesus. When I heard that woman's rattle. She
said, Any more? I told her I didn't know. She said, I been here all night. Can't wait. I tried to make her.
She said, Can't do it. Come on. Hoo! Not a man around. Boys scared. You asleep on my back. Denver
sleep in my stomach. Felt like I was split in two. I told her to take you all; I had to go back. In case. She
just looked at me. Said, Woman? Bit a piece of my tongue off when they opened my back. It was hanging
by a shred. I didn't mean to. Clamped down on it, it come right off. I thought, Good God, I'm going to eat
myself up. They dug a hole for my stomach so as not to hurt the baby. Denver don't like for me to talk
about it. She hates anything about Sweet Home except how she was born. But you was there and even if
you too young to memory it, I can tell it to you. The grape arbor. You memory that? I ran so fast. Flies
beat me to you. I would have known right away who you was when the sun blotted out your face the way
it did when I took you to the grape arbor. I would have known at once when my water broke. The minute I
saw you sitting on the stump, it broke. And when I did see your face it had more than a hint of what you
would look like after all these years. I would have known who you were right away because the cup after
cup of water you drank proved and connected to the fact that you dribbled clear spit on my face the day I
got to 124. I would have known right off, but Paul D distracted me. Otherwise I would have seen my
fingernail prints right there on your forehead for all the world to see. From when I held your head up, out
in the shed. And later on, when you asked me about the earrings I used to dangle for you to play with, I
would have recognized you right off, except for Paul D. Seems to me he wanted you out from the
