Deborah drove the buggy through the main road of Highboro at a conventional trot, but as soon as they left the town, she slapped the reins hard on the horse’s rump, surprising him into a faster trot and then a gallop. Edna and Deborah gripped the side rails of the buggy and giggled like girls as the horse galloped along through twilight toward Oaks and Beulah Land.

2

Another death had been that of Maggie. She did not die naturally of old age but was the victim of one of her innocent appetites. She had tried to eat a small, fried perch without removing its head and bones, thinking them soft enough to pass, and had choked before she or anyone near her could stuff corn bread down her throat to clear it. The manner of her departure provided interested comment and speculation, and so prevented any chill of sadness from attending the event. Besides, there was her age. Although no one could say how old she was, it was agreed that she had been the oldest person living at Beulah Land. Their astonishment at her living so long was matched by satisfaction that she had at long last died, natural causes or not.

Her cabin stood empty—she had no living relative on the plantation—until Sarah asked Deborah if she might use it for her school. Deborah agreed that she might, until it was needed. The few sticks of furniture, the quilts and pans and one kettle were given to the first who asked for them. Floyd had the floors and walls scoured clean and built benches and set up sawhorse tables of a height to suit children.

Her school had begun with Roman.

Before she married Leon, Sarah had taken notice of the boy, in spite of Lovey’s efforts to discourage her. After her marriage, she sought him out. Again, Lovey tried to discourage her interest. So did Deborah. So, furiously—it was the first time they quarreled—did Leon. So, certainly, did the child’s mother, Clovis. And twice, in warning and insult, Roscoe struck the boy in Sarah’s presence.

It was that that made her realize the reason behind all of their putting obstacles in the way of her knowing Roman. Leon was, of course, his father. She saw it all in a second. It explained everything in that strange first meeting with Clovis. After first shock she realized that she was not even surprised.

Considering that he was Leon’s son and she hoped that she herself would conceive, she might well have hated the sight of him. Instead, she began to love him, seeing his hunched-back, which made him seem to crouch, seeing one leg bent at the knee to accommodate the shortness of the other, seeing his unwavering eyes with their look of complete awareness of what he was.