with that, she gathered her blanket around her elbows and asc.ended the lily-white stairs like abride. outside, snow solidified itself into graceful forms. the peace of winter stars seemedpermanent. fingering a ribbon and smelling skin, stamp paid approached 124 again. "my marrowis tired," he thought. "i been tired all my days, bone-tired, but now it's in the marrow. must bewhat baby suggs felt when she lay down and thought about color for the rest of her life." whenshe told him what her aim was, he thought she was ashamed and too shamed to say so. herauthority in the pulpit, her dance in the clearing, her powerful call (she didn't deliver sermons orpreach — insisting she was too ignorant for that — she called and the hearing heard) — all thathad been mocked and rebuked by the bloodspill in her backyard. god puzzled her and she was tooashamed of him to say so. instead she told stamp she was going to bed to think about the colors ofthings. he tried to dissuade her. sethe was in jail with her nursing baby, the one he had saved. hersons were holding hands in the yard, terrified of letting go. strangers and familiars were stoppingby to hear how it went one more time, and suddenly baby declared peace. she just up and quit. bythe time sethe was released she had exhausted blue and was well on her way to yellow.
at first he would see her in the yard occasionally, or delivering food to the jail, or shoes in town.
then less and less. he believed then that shame put her in the bed. now, eight years after hercontentious funeral and eighteen years after the misery, he changed his mind. her marrow wastired and it was a testimony to the heart that fed it that it took eight years to meet finally the colorshe was hankering after. the onslaught of her fatigue, like his, was sudden, but lasted for years.
after sixty years of losing children to the people who chewed up her life and spit it out like a fishbone; after five years of freedom given to her by her last child, who bought her future with his, exchanged it, so to speak, so she could have one whether he did or not — to lose him too; toacquire a daughter and grandchildren and see that daughter slay the children (or try to); to belongto a community of other free negroes — to love and be loved by them, to counsel and becounseled, protect and be protected, feed and be fed — and then to have that community step backand hold itself at a distance — -well, it could wear out even a baby suggs, holy. "listen here,girl," he told her, "you can't quit the word. it's given to you to speak. you can't quit the word, idon't care what all happen to you."they were standing in richmond street, ankle deep in leaves. lamps lit the downstairs windowsof spacious houses and made the early evening look darker than it was. the odor of burning leaveswas brilliant. quite by chance, as he pocketed a penny tip for a delivery, he had glanced across thestreet and recognized the skipping woman as his old friend. he had not seen her in weeks. quicklyhe crossed the street, scuffing red leaves as he went. when he stopped her with a greeting, shereturned it with a face knocked clean of interest. she could have been a plate. a carpetbag full ofshoes in her hand, she waited for him to begin, lead or share a conversation. if there had beensadness in her eyes he would have understood it; but indifference lodged where sadness shouldhave been.
"you missed the clearing three saturdays running," he told her. she turned her head away andscanned the houses along the street. "folks came," he said.
"folks come; folks go," she answered.
"here, let me carry that." he tried to take her bag from her but she wouldn't let him.
"i got a delivery someplace long in here," she said. "name of tucker.""yonder," he said. "twin chestnuts in the yard. sick, too."they walked a bit, his pace slowed to accommodate her skip.
"well?""well, what?""saturday coming. you going to call or what?""if i call them and they come, what on earth i'm going to say?""say the word!" he checked his shout too late. two whitemen burning leaves turned their heads inhis direction. bending low he whispered into her ear, "the word. the word.""that's one other thing took away from me," she said, and that was when he exhorted her, pleadedwith her not to quit, no matter what. the word had been given to her and she had to speak it. had to.
they had reached the twin chestnuts and the white house that stood behind them.
"see what i mean?" he said. "big trees like that, both of em together ain't got the leaves of a youngbirch." "i see what you mean," she said, but she peered instead at the white house.
"you got to do it," he said. "you got to. can't nobody call like you. you have to be there.""what i have to do is get in my bed and lay down. i want to fix on something harmless in thisworld.""what world you talking about? ain't nothing harmless down here.""yes it is. blue. that don't hurt nobody. yellow neither.""you getting in the bed to think about yellow?""i likes yellow.""then what? when you get through with blue and yellow, then what?""can't say. it's something can't be planned.""you blaming god," he said. "that's what you doing.""no, stamp. i ain't.""you saying the whitefolks won? that what you saying?""i'm saying they came in my yard.""you saying nothing counts.""i'm saying they came in my yard.""sethe's the one did it.""and if she hadn't?""you saying god give up? nothing left for us but pour out our own blood?""i'm saying they came in my yard.""you punishing him, ain't you.""not like he punish me.""you can't do that, baby. it ain't right.""was a time i knew what that was.""you still know.""what i know is what i see: a nigger woman hauling shoes." "aw, baby." he licked his lipssearching with his tongue for the words that would turn her around, lighten her load. "we have tobe steady. 'these things too will pass.' what you looking for? a miracle?""no," she said. "i'm looking for what i was put here to look for: the back door," and skipped rightto it. they didn't let her in. they took the shoes from her as she stood on the steps and she restedher hip on the railing while the whitewoman went looking for the dime.
