(From _The Reviewer_)
The sun came up around the bend of the river. The top of it, huge
and misshapen, had just cleared the mass of juniper and swamp myrtle
when Annie Sherrod opened the kitchen door and came down the rickety
back steps into the yard. She carried in one hand a bucket of clabber
for the pigs and in the other a tin pail full to the brim with a
stirring of corn meal and sweet milk for the chickens. As she reached
the chicken coop the sun shook away the dark myrtle and gave its red
reflection to the river. The water tugged and pulled it out of shape
as it flowed on by to the sound. The river and the dried mud along its
banks shone brightly, but the woman noticed none of this red glory of
sunrise. She scattered the meal and emptied the sour milk in the pig
trough, and then filled the empty bucket with the dark water and gave
it to the chickens to drink.
The sun had now risen so high that the reflection spread like burnished
copper on the face of the water, and Annie shaded her eyes as she
looked down at the fish trap anchored close to the bank. The fish
trap was made of two hoops of seine and two dug-outs. The hoops were
balanced upon a greased pole between the dugouts. The faintest puff of
wind caused the top hoop to dip down until it was caught by the current
and dragged under. As it came up the opposite hoop was pushed down. The
hoops dipped and turned endlessly in the river current and sometimes
brought up fish. When the hoops reached the top of their circle the
fish fell out and down into the dugouts, sometimes to the right,
sometimes to the left. “Lazy man fishin’” they called the trap on the
river.
There were plenty of fish this morning, silver river herrings, and
Annie gathered them up and carried them back to the house.
She busied herself with breakfast and when it stood smoking hot on the
stove, she went down the hall to a room at the front of the house.
“Henry,” she called, outside the closed door, “it’s time to get
up--brekfast’s ready.” A voice answered her and she went on to the next
room, opened the door and entered.
It was dark in there and the air smelled of stale bedding. Annie
propped up a window and pushed open a broken shutter. The sun threw a
broad streak of light across a bed in the corner which held a sleeping
man. He roused himself, shivered, and threw one protecting arm across
his eyes to shut out the sudden glare. “Can’t you let me be?” he said.
Annie did not look at him: “Brekfast’s done,” she said and went out.
The table stood under the window in the kitchen. She wiped the oilcloth
top with a damp cloth and set it with thick china plates and cups. She
“dished up” the smoking food, filled the cups with coffee and put the
pot back on the stove. Then she sat down at one end of the table and
stared in front of her.
Her brooding face was lifeless in its repose. There was no thought
going on back of the woman’s dulled eyes. She sat, heavy and relaxed,
a little forward in the chair, and stared straight in front of her.
Mechanically she lifted a hand now and then to frighten away the swarms
of flies that hovered over the food before her. The sound of a tapping
stick and carefully placed feet in the hall roused her. She sagged
to her feet and went to the door. A man with a cane in one hand and
the other spread out before him stopped beside her. “Annie,” he said
inquiringly.
“Here I be,” she said, catching hold of his hand to guide him to the
table.
“I smell fish this morning,” the blind man said cheerfully, as he
spread his hands to touch the knife and fork at his place.
“Yes, we got fish.” Annie speared one with a fork and took out the
backbone. She put milk and sugar in his coffee, cut up a piece of
fat pork and put the plate down in front of him. “There you air!” She
helped her own plate and sat down again.
They ate in silence.
Down the hall a door slammed. “Will’s late,” the blind man said.
“Yeah--he wuz drunk agin las’ night!”
The blind man made soft clucking noises, his tongue against his closed
teeth.
Will came through the kitchen, glancing at the table as he went by on
his way to the back porch. There was a sound of water poured in a tin
basin. “Ain’t ther’ a towel ’round here some place?” he called. Annie
got up, took a towel from the cupboard drawer out to him, and came back
to her breakfast. In a little while he came in, sat down between them
and helped himself to food.