At every second street corner of the town, as a protection in time of fire, there were large underground wells, bricked-in and covered over with heavy boards. In time of drouth, when the supply of cistern water had to be economized for drinking purposes, the villagers used the well water for their cattle, truck gardens, and for washing clothes; but owing to the earthy, swampy taste of the water, it was unfit for drinking.
At every second street corner of the town, as a protection in time of fire, there were large underground wells, bricked-in and covered over with heavy boards. In time of drouth, when the supply of cistern water had to be economized for drinking purposes, the villagers used the well water for their cattle, truck gardens, and for washing clothes; but owing to the earthy, swampy taste of the water, it was unfit for drinking.
The floor-like tops of these wells were delightful gathering places for the colored children of the neighborhood on moonlight nights. Here they would congregate for their merry games and romping; the pleasant sound of their happy voices becoming a sort of evening service for the old folkswho came out of doors to sit on the gutter-curb and doorsteps, eager to enjoy a bit of friendly gossip after a long day’s toil.
Tempe was sitting in the doorway of her house, in the glowing moonlight, smoking her pipe and listening to the singing children at the corner, when Chester came up to her.
“’Deevnin’, Sis’ Tempe,” he greeted her politely. “I was wond’rin if I was goin’ fin’ you at yo’ house. You know who dis is, don’t you?”
She looked at him quietly, making no sign of recognition.
“Dis me, Sis’ Tempe,” he said, taking a seat near her. “Dis Chester. Chester Frackshun, w’at use to live ’longside you, yonder ’cross de green.”
“I ain’ forgot who you is,” she told him, looking at him searchingly. “I ain’ forget nothin’.... An’ you ain’ need to tell me w’at you come after, either. Cause I’m sho goin’ give de thing back to de lawful owner, now you done come hyuh.”
Getting up to go into the house, she said to him: “Set hyuh on de do’-step till I come back.”
“Lemme come inside wid you, Sis’ Tempe,” Chester suggested, getting up to follow her. “I wan’ talk wid you on a li’l business.”
“Stay right whah you is till I come back, I tellyou,” she commanded, looking at him fixedly for several seconds before going inside.
Chester sat down again and waited on the steps for her to return.
After a while she came back with a cup of salt in her hand, and stood mumbling some unintelligible words, as she sprinkled the salt across the threshold, in the form of a cross. Having finished, she said to him:
“De one dey call Chester kin come in, now. But w’at be fol’rin ’im, gotta stay out-do’s.”
He made no comment about the strange invitation, but got up and went inside.
The room was in semi-darkness; the only light being the reflected glow of a candle in the back room, and a narrow stream of moonlight coming through the open door at the front, falling across the well-scrubbed floor like a stripe of tarnished silver.
“Set hyuh whah I kin seen you,” Tempe said; placing a chair near the door where the moonlight would fall across him.
Chester took the offered seat, and Tempe sat down opposite, half-hidden in the shadow.
“You mus’ bin know I wan’ see you?” she asked. And without waiting for his reply, she went on speaking in a kind of ecstasy:
“Boy, de sperret o’ Gawd don’ never work in vain.
“An’ don’t you never try to b’lieve de sperret gives up.
“E knows ’is own strank; an’ ’e knows ’is time.
“An’ soon or later, ’e sho goin’ track you down, an’ all de wrong-doin’ you done commit in de dark, de sperret o’ Gawd goin’ drag it fo’th an’ shame you in de light o’ day!
“Yas, Jesus.... You hyeah me talkin’?”
“Yas. I hyeah you talkin’,” Chester answered abruptly. “But w’at you talkin’ ’bout, Sis’ Tempe, ain’ nothin’ cuncernin’ me. You better ’zamine yo’ own cawnshunce, an’ see w’at de sperret o’ Gawd goin’ bring to light to ’cuse you wid yo’ own-self.... An’ don’t you try to drag me in de thing either.... ’Cause you know w’at you know. An’ I know a heap mo’ on de subjec’ w’at you ain’ never thought over.... So dey got two’v us to git up an’ talk on de queshtun, w’en de time come for provin’ who got to stan’ de blame.... So you better cunsider long an’ careful, befo’ you go ’roun hyuh talkin’ so broadcas’.... You hyeah w’at I tell you?”
His tone was severe and emphatic; and she sat looking at him in subdued silence. He felt sorryfor her, and wanted her to know that he was willing to help her any way he could.
“You ain’ got to be ’fraid o’ me, Sis’ Tempe,” he told her feelingly. “Don’t you know ’tain’ nobody but you an’ me kin tell anything ’bout de needle?... Put de thing out yo’ ’membunce, an’ stop worrin’ ’bout it. Talkin’ too much on de thing only goin’ make people mo’ suspicious; an’ dat ain’ goin’ help you none.”
Tempe contemplated his face in the moonlight for a few seconds before answering.
“But Peesah de one don’ wan’ lemme res’,” she faltered. “Evvy night, w’en I be sleepin’, ’e comes to me des like ’is natchal self, an’ tawments my po’ soul ’bout dat needle so, till I has to git up out de bed an’ walk ’roun’ de room, an’ try’n fin’ somh’n to do to ease my min’.”
Chester told her of several charms he was sure would help her. The old folks said they were the only protection against ghosts and spirits, and they couldn’t fail if you did them the right way.—A pan of water on the door-step in the moonlight: Death won’t cross water while the moon is shining on it.—A mirror placed by the side of the bed: Death don’t want to see himself in a looking-glass.—Leave a dog in the room when you go to bed; dogs can seespirits in the dark, and Death don’t like to hear a dog howl in the night-time.
Tempe said she had tried them all, and none of the charms had helped her.
He told her about putting nettles on the floor; scattered over the threshold and sprinkled around the bed: Death wouldn’t walk on “stingin’-nettles” in the house, because he had to walk on them in the graveyard. But the nettles had to be picked at midnight, when the heavy dew was on them.
Tempe told him she was glad to know the new charm, and would try it that night. She knew where some nettles were growing alongside Miss Collamore’s fence by the corner. Maybe white-folks’ nettles would be better. She would wait until midnight, and go pick them, and sprinkle them on the floor before she went to bed.
Chester assured her that the charm would work; and he felt pleased that he was able to give her something that would divert her attention from the mysterious needle, and the accusing thoughts that disturbed her mind. He wished her good luck, and arose to go; saying that he would pass by in the morning to hear what happened.
Tempe followed him to the door and said good-night. Just as he was leaving, Nat came along; andstopping in front of the door-step, saluted them cheerfully.
“Great-day-in-de-mawnin’, Sis’ Tempe!” He exclaimed. “It done took me so long to walk way down hyuh to see you tonight, I feel like I bin trav’lin de road since day-break.... W’at make you wan’ live so further away like dis, anyhow?... An’ how you do dis evenin’?... An’ boy, I’m sho glad dey got somebody hyuh to help me wid dat mule I come after. Hitchin’-up a strange mule in de moonlight by yo’-self ain’ no fun, lemme tell you. ’Cause I know Sis’ Tempe ain’ none too handy w’en it come to handlin’ harness an’ things, an’ backin’-up a sleepy mule in a dump-cart shaf’, long aft’ hours like dis is.... Ain’ da’s right, Sister?”
“I was lookin’ for you to come hyuh in de day-time,” Tempe told him. “Aft I see de night fell, an’ you ain’ sont no word one way o’ nother; somh’n tol’ me maybe you done change yo’ min’ ’bout buyin’ de mule.”
“But you see me hyuh now, don’t you?” Nat argued. “Anybody ever told you ’bout Nat goin’ back ’is word, aft’ he done promise somebody he goin’ buy somh’n from ’um? An’ de thing be somh’n w’at he need?”
“Unc’ Nat, w’at make you wan’ was’e time disway, an’ bring up a onnes’sary wrangle?” Chester asked him. “If you wan’ hitch-up de mule to take home wid you tonight, you better come on an’ lemme help you; ’cause I gotta go back ’cross de pastur to Lizzie house befo’ it git too late.”
“Boy, you sho talkin’ gospel,” Nat answered. “Come on, Sis’ Tempe, an’ show me whah de mule at; an’ lemme git thoo an’ go ’way from hyuh.”
“De mule dis way in de yard,” said Tempe, coming out of the house and leading them through the side gate. “But you gotta fetch a bucket o’ water from de well, yonder to de cawnder; ’cause de po’ critter ain’ had no water to drink all day. I ain’ able to tote no water.”
She hunted about the yard until she found a bucket with a rope tied to the handle. She gave it to Chester and he went to fetch the water from the well at the corner. The children had ended their singing and playing for the night and were gone home; and the deserted street seemed to be wondering at the untimely silence coming at an hour of such marvellous moonlight.
Getting down on his knees, Chester tugged with the cover of the well until he lifted it out of its groove. Then he let the bucket down through the narrow opening, dangling and swinging it about until it sank. When it was filled with water hepulled it up; got up on his feet, and made ready to get back to Nat. He deliberated for a second whether or not to close the well.
“Might be I gotta come git a yuther bucket,” he said to himself. “De dev’lish lid so tight to git loose, I’m goin’ leave it stay open till I come back agin.”
Whereupon he took up the bucket of water and went back to the yard.
Nat had finished hitching the mule and was standing by the dump cart talking to Tempe. Chester put the bucket of water before the mule and he drank it greedily, and seemed eager for more. Chester wanted to go for another bucketful, but Nat was impatient to get away, and told him not to go.
“One bucketful enough to hol’ ’im till we git up yonder on the coas’; den he kin lap de whole ditch dry if he like, w’en I turn ’im loose in de lane.... Come on, lemme go ’way from hyuh,” he said, climbing up on the seat of the cart. “An’ Sis’ Tempe, I’ll see you ’bout de secon’ payment aft’ I done tried de mule out wid de harrow in de fiel’ tomorrow.... An’ boy, lemme thank you for givin’ me a han’ wid de mule nice like you did. An’ I’ll sho think to bring you somh’n from de g’yarden, nex’ time I come down to Gritny.... Peace an’ hap’nessto y’all.... Come on, ole mule. Nat’s gone.”
The cart went bumping up the street, and Tempe closed the gate and walked with Chester towards the front door. As she went into the house, he reminded her to go for the nettles at midnight; and to be sure that nobody saw her when she stooped to pick them. Tempe said she would remember to do all he told her; bade him good-night and closed the door as he walked away.