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uneasiness would come in him。 Five of his patients had died。
And one of these was Augustus Benedict Mady Lewis； the
little deaf…mute。 He had been asked to speak at the burial
service； but as it was his rule not to attend funerals he was
unable to accept this invitation。 The five patients had not been
lost because of any negligence on his part。 The blame was in
the long years of want which lay behind。 The diets of
cornbread and sowbelly and syrup； the crowding of four and
five persons to a single room。 The death of poverty。 He
brooded on this and drank coffee to stay awake。 Often he held
his hand to his chin； for recently a slight tremor in the nerves
of his neck made his head nod unsteadily when he was tired。
Then during the fourth week of February Portia came to the
house。 It was only six o'clock in the morning and he was
sitting by the fire in the kitchen； warming a pan of milk for
breakfast。 She was badly intoxicated。 He smelled the keen；
sweetish odor of gin and his nostrils widened with disgust。 He
did not look at her but busied him…216
self with his breakfast。 He crumpled some bread in a bowl and
poured over it hot milk。 He prepared coffee and laid the table。
Then when he was seated before his breakfast he looked at
Portia sternly。 'Have you had your morning meal？'
'I not going to eat breakfast；' she said。
'You will need it。 If you intend to get to work today；'
'I not going to work。'
A dread came in him。 He did not wish to question her further。
He kept his eyes on his bowl of milk and drank from a spoon
that was unsteady in his hand。 When he had finished he
looked up at the wall above her head。 'Are you tongue…tied？'
'I going to tell you。 You going to hear about it。 Just as soon as
I able to say it I going to tell you。'
Portia sat motionless in the chair； her eyes moving slowly
from one corner of the wall to the other。 Her arms hung down
limp and her legs were twisted loosely about each other。
When he turned from her he had for a moment a perilous
sense of ease and freedom； which was more acute because he
knew that soon it was to be shattered。 He mended the fire and
warmed his hands。 Then he rolled a cigarette。 The kitchen was
in a state of spotless order and cleanliness。 The saucepans on
the wall glowed with the light of the stove and behind each
one there was a round； black shadow。
'It about Willie。'
'I know。' He rolled the cigarette gingerly between his palms。
His eyes glanced recklessly about him； greedy for the last
sweet pleasures。
'Once I mentioned to you this here Buster Johnson were at the
prison with Willie。 Us knowed him before。 He were sent home
yestiddy。' 'So？'
'Buster been crippled for life。'
His head quavered。 He pressed his hand to his chin to steady
himself； but the obstinate trembling was difficult to control。
'Last night these here friends come round to my house and say
that Buster were home and had something to tell
me about Willie。 I run all the way and this here is what he
said。'
'Yes。'
'There were three of them。 Willie and Buster and this other
boy。 They were friends。 Then this here trouble come up。'
Portia halted。 She wet her finger with her tongue and then
moistened her dry lips with her finger。 'It were something to
do with the way this here white guard picked on them all the
time。 They were out on roadwork one day and Buster he
sassed back and then the other boy he try to run off in the
woods。 They taken all three of them。 They taken all three of
them to the camp and put them in this here ice…cold room。'
He said yes again。 But his head quavered and the word
sounded like a rattle in his throat。
'It were about six weeks ago；' Portia said。 'You remember that
cold spell then。 They put Willie and them boys in this room
like ice。'
Portia spoke in a low voice； and she neither paused between
words nor did the grief in her face soften。 It was like a low
song。 She spoke and he could not understand。 The sounds
were distinct in his ear but they had no shape or meaning。 It
was as though his head were the prow of a boat and the
sounds were water that broke on him and then flowed past。 He
felt he had to look behind to find the words already said。
'。 。 。 and their feets swolled up and they lay there and struggle
on the floor and holler out。 And nobody come。 They hollered
there for three days and three nights and nobody come。'
'I am deaf；' said Doctor Copeland。 'I cannot understand。'
'They put our Willie and them boys in this here ice…cold room。
There were a rope hanging down from the ceiling。 They taken
their shoes off and tied their bare feets to this rope。 Willie and
them boys lay there with their backs on the floor and their
feets in the air。 And their； feets swolled up and they struggle
on the floor and holler out。 It were ice…cold in the room and
their feets froze。 Their feets swolled up and they hollered for
three nights and three days。 And nobody come。'218
Doctor Copeland pressed his head with his hands； but still the
steady trembling would not stop。 'I cannot hear what you say。'
'Then at last they come to get them。 They quickly taken Willie
and them boys to the sick ward and their legs were all swolled
and froze。 Gangrene。 They sawed off both our Willie's feet。
Buster Johnson lost one foot and the other boy got well。 But
our Willie—he crippled for life now。 Both his feet sawed off。'
The words were finished and Portia leaned over and struck her
head upon the table。 She did not cry or moan； but she struck
her head again and again on the hard…scrubbed top of the
table。 The bowl and spoon rattled and he removed them to the
sink。 The words were scattered in his mind； but he did not try
to assemble them。 He scalded the bowl and spoon and washed
out the dish…towel。 He picked up something from the floor and
put it somewhere。
'Crippled？' he asked。 'William？'
Portia knocked her head on the table and the blows had a
rhythm like the slow beat of a drum and his heart took up this
rhythm also。 Quietly the words came alive and fitted to the
meaning and he understood。
'When will they send him home？'
Portia leaned her drooping head on her arm。 'Buster don't
know that。 Soon afterward they separate all three of them in
different places。 They sent Buster to another camp。 Since
Willie only haves a few more months he think he liable to be
home soon now。'
They drank coffee and sat for a long time； looking into each
other's eyes。 His cup rattled against his teeth。 She poured her
coffee into a saucer and some of it dripped down on her lap。
'William' Doctor Copeland said。 As he pronounced
the name his teeth bit deeply into his tongue and he moved his
jaw with pain。 They sat for a long while。 Portia held his hand。
The bleak morning light made the windows gray。 Outside it
was still raining。
'If I means to get to work I better go on now；' Portia said。
He followed her through the hall and stopped at the hat…rack
to put on his coat and shawl。 The open door let in a
219
gust of wet； cold air。 Highboy sat out on the street curb with a
wet newspaper over his head f