Hook. Tick uttered angry and frightened protests, but in vain. Skeeter
persisted in his plan.
“Dis is whar it happened, Skeeter,” Tick said as they passed a place in
the road. “Dis is whar I wus shotted!”
“Whoa!” Skeeter said, as he brought the car to a stop. “Look dar--dat
is de gun whut Button drapped!”
Placing the gun in the machine, Skeeter hurried on toward Button Hook’s
home.
“Dis gun will he’p me a heap!” he exulted.
When they reached the house, Skeeter picked up the shotgun and, leaving
Tick in the machine, he walked through the yard, stamped up the steps
and onto the little porch, and knocked loudly and authoritatively upon
the door. He heard shuffling noises with low talking, and movements
which indicated that the occupants of the house were waking from sleep
and getting out of bed.
“Who dar?” old man Hook inquired in a frightened voice.
“Open up!” Skeeter yelled. “I got a little word wid you an’ Button
Hook from Sheriff John Flournoy an’ Doc Moseley.”
At this there was a frightened squeal from Button Hook, excited voices
talking, swift movement of feet, and the door opened a little crack.
Old Hook stuck his corkscrew whiskers through the opening and asked:
“Whut word is sont?”
“I’s got Ticky Hush out here in Sheriff John Flournoy’s autermobile,”
Skeeter announced in a loud voice. “Ticky is been shot two times wid a
double-barrel, muzzle-loadin’ shotgun. Nobody ain’t know who done it,
but we done foun’ de shotgun, an’ Marse Tom is tryin’ to find out who
owns it.”
Button Hook uttered a frightened whine.
“Doc Moseley say Ticky is gittin’ ready to die befo’ mawnin’,” Skeeter
resumed. “Ticky ain’t got no kinnery an’ I knowed he wus gwine marry
Button Hook, so I fetch him down here so he could die in yo’-all’s
house!”
“Gawda’mighty, naw!” old Hook wailed. “I don’t want no dead nigger in
my cabin. Take him somewheres else.”
“It’s Marse John Flournoy’s awders to leave him here wid you-alls!”
Skeeter lied.
“Naw!” Daddy Hook squalled. “Dis fambly ain’t gwine be home in de
mawnin’--us is gittin’ ready trabble to right now, an’ we’s fixin’ to
take a soon start!”
“Does you know who dis shotgun belongs to?” Skeeter asked, producing
the gun with a dramatic flourish.
“Naw!” Daddy Hook wailed, motioning Skeeter away. “Ain’t never seed dat
gun befo’.”
A frightened wail sounded behind old man Hook, informing Skeeter that
Button was being strongly affected by what she heard.
“All right!” Skeeter said, as if in doubt what to do next. “I’ll go
tell Marse John Flournoy dat you-all won’t take Tick in. I reckon him
an’ Marse Tom Gaitskill will come right down an’ cornverse you-all
about it. De Sheriff don’t take no nigger foolishness.”
Skeeter turned and walked away. When he got to the automobile it was
empty. Tick had climbed out and had hidden behind the same stump which
had served him when he delivered the wrist-watch to Button Hook. As
Skeeter cranked the machine, Tick emerged from his hiding-place and
climbed back into the car.
“Now, Ticky,” Skeeter said when they were once more in the saloon and
had sat down. “A long time befo’ mawnin’, Button Hook an’ all dat crowd
will be gittin’ to some place fur away in a mighty big hurry. Dey’ll
trabble wid a looseness, an’ dey won’t look back, an’ dey won’t never
come back.”
“Dey won’t make me mad ef dey stays away,” Tick spoke, trying to grin
through his cut and plaster-covered lips.
“Dat saves yo’ life, an’ it gits you good riddunce of one of yo’ to-be
wives!”
“Thank ’e, suh,” Tick said gratefully. “You shore is a noble nigger
man!”
“You tole me dat Dazzle promise to marry you--is dat so?”
“Naw, suh. Me an’ Dazzle et a little dinner togedder, but dar ain’t
nothin’ to dat.”
“Dat leaves jes’ Limit Lark fer you to marry--ain’t dat so?” Skeeter
asked.
“Dat’s all!” Tick said. “Thank de Lawd!”
“You done got yo’ license to marry Limit, Ticky,” Skeeter said. “Now,
fer goodness sake don’t ax nobody else!”
“I won’t,” Tick promised. “I’s mighty glad we’s done shaved ’em down to
jes’ me an’ one woman.”
There was a loud knock upon the front door, and some one on the outside
shook it violently, trying to get in.
“Git over dar an’ crawl under de bar, Ticky,” Skeeter whispered. “Dar
ain’t no tellin’ whut is gwine happen now!”
When Tick was hidden, Skeeter tiptoed to the door and opened it very
cautiously.
“Dis here is Vakey Vapp,” a woman’s voice announced in high, shrill
tones. “Lemme in, I got somepin to say offen my mind!”
“Come in, Vakey,” Skeeter said in propitiating tones. “I’s de onliest
one here.”
“Whar is Tick Hush?” Vakey snapped.
“Tick is gittin’ ready to die,” Skeeter answered evasively. “Doc
Moseley is he’pin’ him along.”
“I come here to tell Tick dat he better make a good job of dyin’, an’
drap off real soon,” Vakey bellowed. “Ef he don’t, I’s gwine meet him
in de big road an’ cyarve his gizzard an’ his backbone out!”
“Whut’s done made you mad?” Skeeter asked in surprised tones.
“Dat nigger is done monkeyed wid my affectations,” Vakey howled.
“Dat’s too bad,” Skeeter sympathized.
“It don’t hurt me none, but it’s shore bad fer Tick!” Vakey said in a
deadly tone.
Then they sat for a long time in silence, while Vakey Vapp breathed
deeply with a heaving breast, like a motion-picture star. At last she
stood up to go.
“I comed here to gib Ticky Hush a dyin’ message, Skeeter,” she
announced. “I’s sorry he ain’t here. But ef Doc Moseley makes a mistake
an’ cures Tick, well, I’s gwine bestow my dyin’ message wid de edge of
a sharp razor. Good-by!”
When the door closed behind her, Tick stood up from his hiding-place,
showing a face full of tragedy and despair.
“We forgot all about dat one, Skeeter,” he mourned. “Oh, lawdy! Ef I
ever gits outen dis mess, I ain’t gwine mess wid mattermony no more!”
XI
TICK FLIES THE YELLOW FLAG
Early the next morning, Colonel Tom Gaitskill heard from Hitch Diamond,
who worked about his place, that Tick Hush had been held up, robbed,
and shot to death.
At the bank, where Vinegar Atts worked, Gaitskill heard that a woman
named Button Hook had shot Tick Hush, and that Skeeter had nursed him
all night.
From Dr. Moseley Gaitskill learned that Tick had not been shot or
robbed, but had been beaten over the head with some blunt instrument,
and his face had been badly cut with some sharp tool.
All of which was interesting enough to induce Gaitskill to make a
personal investigation.
He found Tick Hush lying upon a pallet in the rear of the Hen-Scratch
saloon, and from him and Skeeter Butts he heard the whole story.
Being familiar with the details of numberless negro courtships, this
lengthy narrative lacked the spice of novelty, and Gaitskill was weary
long before it was finished.
At last he looked at his watch and rose to his feet.
“Well, Tick,” he smiled, “I think if I were in your predicament I would
go out to the pest-house on my farm and run up the yellow flag.”
Then Gaitskill went back to the bank.
The two negroes sat in perfect silence for a long time. Finally Tick
asked:
“Skeeter, whut did Marse Tom mean by dem words?”
“Gawd knows,” Skeeter mumbled.
Skeeter smoked four cigarettes in rapid succession. Then the meaning of
Gaitskill’s remark shot through him like an electric current.
Given Gaitskill’s two, he multiplied and made forty-four.
He grabbed his hat and ran up the street at full speed.
He stopped first at the home of Ginny Babe Chew, where he held an
excited conversation with Dazzle Zenor, the actress. That young woman
laughed and applauded, and promptly left the house after Skeeter’s
rapid departure.
After that, he ran to the livery stable and held an excited
conversation with the negro owner of that establishment.
The liveryman was not at all disposed to do what Skeeter wanted, but
Skeeter had learned certain conjuring tricks to attain his ends, and he
now performed these tricks with the influential names of Colonel Tom
Gaitskill, Sheriff John Flournoy, and Dr. Moseley.
With these big names thundering in his ears, the liveryman consented.
“Keep dis quiet, Lon!” Skeeter warned. “It’s de white folks’ awders.
Don’t speak a word!”
Two hours later, a long, black carriage, known to the negroes of
Tickfall as the “pest-wagon,” drawn by two solemn mules and driven by
Skeeter Butts, stopped at the rear door of the Hen-Scratch saloon.
Skeeter dismounted from the driver’s seat and opened the door in the
rear of the ambulance. Hitch Diamond, Figger Bush, and the Reverend
Vinegar Atts climbed out. They pulled a stretcher into view, and
Skeeter laid hold upon it.
They tramped into the Hen-Scratch saloon like a quartette of
pall-bearers, and walked to the pallet where Dazzle Zenor, the actress,
now acting the part of a Red Cross nurse, had just completed a major
operation upon the face and hands of Tick Hush. Tick was lifted upon
the stretcher, carried to the ambulance and placed inside.
Skeeter tied a piece of yellow cloth a yard wide and two yards long to
the door knob of the ambulance, and climbed back to the driver’s seat.
The four stretcher bearers walked solemnly beside the pest-wagon.
Every negro inhabitant of Dirty-Six crowded the sidewalks and watched
this dreadful wagon go by. All the older ones recalled that fearful
epidemic of yellow fever years before when this wagon had rolled
along the streets at midnight, and a driver with muffled mouth,
breathing through a cloth saturated with disinfectants, called aloud in
sepulchral tones:
“Bring out your dead!”
For the first time in thirty years, the pest-wagon was on the streets
of Tickfall again. It was no longer a shiny, black vehicle, but was
rusty, dusty, weather-beaten, and time-worn, more than ever suggestive
of diseases and pestilence and sudden death.
As the stretcher bearers marched, they sang. The superb baritone of the
Reverend Vinegar Atts rolled like an organ:
“Somebody buried in de graveyard,
Somebody buried in de sea;
Gwine to git up in de mawnin’
Shoutin’ de jubilee.
If you git dare befo’ I do,
Run an’ tell de Lawd I’m comin’, too.
Oh!
Somebody dyin’ on de mountain,
Somebody dyin’ in de bed,
Somebody gwine to rise like a fountain,
Gwine to rise from de dead!
Oh!
If you git dar befo’ I do,
Run an’ tell de Lawd I’m comin’, too!”
“Git back, niggers!” Hitch Diamond bellowed to the crowd when he saw
they were disposed to follow. “Keep away! I got awders from de white
folks!”
In front of the home of Vakey Vapp the ambulance came to a stop.
“Come out here, Vakey!” Skeeter called.
Vakey stepped out into the middle of her yard with plenty of fresh,
untainted air around her.
“You tole me las’ night dat you wanted to deliver to Tick Hush a dyin’
message!” Skeeter exclaimed as he opened the door of the ambulance.
“Come up close so you kin speak to him!”
Vakey took a half-step forward and stopped.
Skeeter spread wide the doors of the ambulance and exclaimed
dramatically:
“Stick out yo’ head, Ticky, an’ git yo’ dyin’ word!”
Ticky stuck out his head.
Dazzle Zenor had done her work well.
The actress had exhausted all her paints and all her mental resources
in helping Tick in his theatrical make-up for the part he had to play.
The result was simply horrifying!
Tick’s ears were both a bright green in color, his nose was yellow, his
lips were purple, his forehead was a bright red, and his cheeks were as
white as milk, while under his chin the natural brown of his skin was
striped with orange!
Tick held up both hands with a pitiful gesture, and each finger was a
different color!
Vakey Vapp emitted a squall which put her in a class by herself as a
maker of strange, loud noises.
“Pore ole Ticky is got some kind of ketchin’ disease, Vakey,” Skeeter
exclaimed. “Us is takin’ him out to de pest-house.”
“Whut ails him?” Vakey wailed.
“Doc Moseley specify dat Tick is got scrambaloodums, an’ it’s powerful
ketchin’. Is you touched Ticky any time recent?”
“O Lawd yes!” Vakey screamed. “I rush-housed him powerful bad at de
Shoofly chu’ch de yuther night!”
“I’s mighty sorry to hear you speak dem words, Vakey,” Skeeter said
with a tearful tremolo in his voice. “You’ll kotch de scrambaloodums,
too. We’ll come back an’ take you to de pest-house next!”
Skeeter shut the ambulance door and ostentatiously draped the yellow
flag over the knob.
“You fergot to deliver yo’ dyin’ message, Vakey,” Skeeter reminded her.
“’Tain’t nothin’,” Vakey howled. “O my lawdymussy!”
“All right,” Skeeter said. “You kin speak yo’ dyin’ words when we takes
you out to de pest-house whar Tick is gwine!”
Vakey gave another loud squall and started across the fields toward
the woods, going at full speed, and covering a long distance in a very
brief time.
“She’ll be mighty fur away pretty soon--ef she keeps up dat gait,” the
Reverend Vinegar Atts chuckled. “Dat’s jes’ de way de niggers runned
from de pest-house thirty years ago!”
Skeeter clucked to his mules and started off at a brisk trot, leaving
the three other stretcher bearers in the middle of the road, looking at
the cloud of dust the team raised.
“Come on, niggers,” Vinegar Atts chuckled as he turned back toward the
town. “We done runned Vakey off now--less git aroun’ among de niggers
an’ succulate de repote dat Skeeter an’ Tick is gittin’ ready to git up
a show!”
“Dat’s right!” Figger Bush cackled. “We’ll tell ’em dis ain’t no real
disease, but Tick an’ Skeeter is rehearsin’!”
“’Tain’t really needful to do dat,” Hitch Diamond rumbled. “Excusin’
Vakey, all of ’em knows it ’tain’t nothin’ but a joke nohow. Niggers
didn’t sing no religium tunes aroun’ dis pest-wagon thuty year ago when
de yeller fever kotch us.”
XII
LIMIT GOES THE LIMIT
Two hours later, a wagon drawn by two mules, and occupied by three men
and one woman, stopped on top of a hill near the pest-house.
With shouts of laughter the four colored people looked down at the
four-room stone house with the metal roof, behind which were many
graves and leaning tombstones.
In front of the building was a yellow flag, draped from the limb of a
small tree. Skeeter Butts sat in front, his chair-back propped against
the stone wall, smoking his cigarette.
They climbed out of the wagon, Limit Lark, the Reverend Vinegar Atts,
Figger Bush, and Hitch Diamond.
After consulting with his two male companions, Vinegar Atts conducted
Limit Lark to a little knoll about one hundred feet from the
pest-house, and told her to stand there until he could complete his
arrangements.
Then he took his own stand on another little rise of land, with Figger
Bush and Hitch Diamond beside him.
“Hey, Tick Hush!” Vinegar bawled in a voice which could be heard a
mile. “Come out to de front of de pest-house a minute!”
Tick had been busy trying to get the make-up off his face, and he
emerged from the building and stared about him in surprise.
“Listen, Tick!” Vinegar Atts whooped. “I got somepin to say to you.
Will you take Limit Lark to be yo’ wedded wife?”
“Suttinly!” Tick squalled, after a moment of astonished silence and a
kick from Skeeter Butts.
“Limit, will you take Tick Hush to be yo’ wedded husbunt?” Vinegar
bellowed.
“You bet!” Limit shrieked.
“Jine yo’ right hands!” Vinegar howled.
“Aw, dat won’t do to say,” Hitch Diamond growled. “It cain’t be did.”
Vinegar hesitated a moment, then got his second wind and bawled:
“I now pernounce you husbunt an’ wife, an’ may de good Lawd hab mussy
on yo’ souls. Amen!”
“Come away from dis pest-house, Tick!” Skeeter snapped as soon as the
ceremony was ended. “I been skeart to death fer eve’y minute I been
here, an’ I’s smoked cigareetes to keep de ketchin’ miseries away till
I sees double!”
The two men ran up the hill toward Limit Lark.
Limit took one horrified look at her husband’s face and reeled backward.
Dazzle Zenor had failed to tell Tick how to get the make-up off his
face, and now he was an awful looking thing.
He had rubbed the various paints with a dry cloth and had made a
horrifying smear; he had washed the paints with hot and cold water, and
some of the colors had “run,” and the effect was one which would make
any alcoholic imagine he had ’em again and mount the water-wagon.
“My Gawd, Ticky!” Limit shrieked. “How come you got yo’ face in such a
devilish mess?”
“I’s had bad luck, honey,” Tick said mournfully. “I s’pose I got to
wait till dis paint wears off!”
“You ain’t nothin’ but a gorm!” Limit shrieked. “You look like a
Whut-is-it in a circus show!”
“Cain’t he’p it, honey,” Tick replied. “It’ll wear off in about six
months!”
“Dat’s right!” Vinegar Atts howled. “Marse Tom Gaitskill sent word by
me dat you two niggers is in quaremtime fer six months. Ef you or Limit
comes to town, he’ll hab you put in de jailhouse.”
“Limit kin wear a blind bridle till you git yo’ nachel-bawn color back,
Ticky,” Skeeter snickered. “Good-by!”
The four stretcher bearers left the bride and groom and walked up the
hill to where their mules were standing.
When Skeeter picked up his driving lines he broke into a loud cackle of
laughter.
“Say, fellers,” he snickered. “Ain’t dat Tick Hush a funny nigger man?
Ef you wus to set him in one of dese here revolvin’ chairs, he wouldn’t
hab sense enough to turn aroun’.”
A Corner in Pickaninnies
A mocking-bird sang his delirious music unnoticed above the head of
Skeeter Butts as he sat beneath a chinaberry tree trying to recover
from the shock of the latest negro sensation in Tickfall--the
separation of Shin Bone and his wife.
“Dey shore got through wid demselves powerful soon,” he muttered to
himself as he lighted a fresh cigarette upon the stub of the old one.
“Dey ain’t been married but ’bout three years, an’ deir baby tuck de
prize at de baby show.”
He propped his chair back against the trunk of the tree, tipped his
derby hat down upon the bridge of his nose, put his shoe-heels inside
the front rungs of the chair, and puffed his smoke in deep meditation.
“Wonder how come dey busted up?” he mused aloud in a low tone. “I
reckin it’s one of dese here do-mes-tic in-feli-city cases. _Hush!_
Look at who’s drawin’ nigh!”
The front legs of Skeeter’s chair came down upon the sand with a thump,
he straightened his derby upon his closely shaved head, adjusted his
high collar, and his noisy cravat, and waited.
Whiffle Bone came around the rear of the saloon, leading her
two-year-old boy by the hand. Skeeter sprang up, gave her a chair,
and seated himself. The baby dropped upon the ground and began the
construction of a sand house.
Not a word was spoken until both were comfortably seated, then Shin
Bone’s wife began:
“Me an’ Shin is picked a fuss wid each yuther an’ quit.”
“Yes’m,” Skeeter answered sympathetically.
The woman sat twisting her nervous hands, biting her lips, and turning
at intervals to look behind her as if she expected some one to follow
her. Finally she leaned over, rested her elbows upon her lap and her
head upon her hands and began to cry, wailing like a calliope.
“Lawdymussy!” Skeeter gasped sucking the stub of his lighted cigarette
into his mouth in his surprise. He sprang up, gagged, clawed at his
lips, dancing first on one foot, then on the other.
“Aw, hush!” Skeeter howled at last, when he had rescued himself from
the fire. “Shut up! Ef you wanter bust up wid Shin Bone, bust--but
don’t beller! Ef you wanter cornfess up to me about yo’ troubles, bawl
out--but don’t beller! Ef you wanter pull my leg fer a few loose change
to git back to yo’ home folks, go ahead an’ pull--but fer _Gawd’s_
sake, don’t beller! Dis ain’t de right season of de year fer a long wet
spell like you done started--it’ll spile de craps!”
Any married man could have told Skeeter that the best way to turn a
light summer shower into a cloud-burst of rainfall was to admonish
a woman not to cry. As it was, Skeeter learned this fact on this
occasion by hard experience. The louder Skeeter bawled, the louder
Whiffle Bone “bellered,” and finally Skeeter sat down in despair and
began to fiddle with a brass wrist-watch which he wore.
Gradually Whiffle’s wails died down to an occasional blobbering gurgle,
like water pouring out of the choked neck of a bottle. When she
straightened up and began to mop the tears from her cheeks with the
corner of her apron, Skeeter inquired:
“Whut made you an’ Shin explode yo’ fambly life?”
“Money!” Whiffle answered shortly. “I done all de cookin’ an’ de
waitin’ on at our eatin’-house. Shin, he done light haulin’ wid de hoss
an’ wagin, cut all de wood, an’ hauled it outen de swamp, an’ cleant up
de eatin’-house befo’ breakfust in de mawnin’.”
“You-all ’vided up yo’ wuck pretty even,” Skeeter remarked.
“Yes, suh. But Shin, he argufy dat de money oughter be ’vided up even,
too; me, I argufy dat I oughter keep all de money an’ gib Shin jes’ as
much as I figgered he oughter hab.”
“Cain’t you-all compermise yo’ ’spute no way?” Skeeter inquired.
“De only way fer Shin to compermise wid me is to comp’ on my own
terms,” Whiffle wailed. “Ain’t dat so?”
“Yes’m,” Skeeter agreed readily. “Sometimes a nigger man kin compermise
wid a woman an’ git her to take his own terms; but fust of all, he’s
got to bounce ’bout seven rocks offen her head.”
This remark started Whiffle again, and the sobs began to pop from her
throat like the exhaust of a gasoline engine.
“Aw, shuckins!” Skeeter grumbled. “Now I done gone an’ punched a hole
in de water-barrel agin. Shut up, Whiffle! You’s too durn moistuous
to suit me--ef I ’a’ knowed you wus cornin’ here to wet me wid all
yo’ fambly troubles, I’d borrered a rubber divin’-suit!” In his
exasperation, Skeeter hurled his cigarette-stub to the ground, and sat
glaring around him, wondering what to do.
Whiffle’s baby picked up the cigarette-stub, put the lighted end into
his mouth, and emitted a yelp which raised Skeeter out of his chair,
and which trailed off into a series of shuddering wails like the call
of a screech-owl.
“My good gosh!” Skeeter howled, glaring indignantly at the youngster
and his mother. “De ole she-bear an’ de cub _bofe_ at it now! Whut you
wanter wish all dis Gulf of Mex’co full of tears onto me fer? I’s gwine
build me a Noer’s ark!”
Whiffle promptly forgot her tears in an effort to assuage the grief of
her son.
“Po’ little pickaninny--mammy’s little darlin’!” she crooned, as she
lifted him upon her lap. “You want mammy to sing you a song? Listen,
honey, shet yo’ eyes an’ shet yo’ mouf, an’ cock yo’ ears an’ listen!”
The tears were glistening upon her wet cheeks, as she drew the little
boy close to her and crooned:
“De black pot’s bigger dan a fryin’ pan,
An’ upon dis groun’ I takes my stan’--
I’d druther be a nigger dan a po’ white man!”
“Huh!” Skeeter Butts murmured to himself as he watched the woman and
her child. “I wonder do she really love dat kid, or is she huggin’ him
jes’ to spite Shin Bone? I never knowed who my mammy or daddy wus, an’
I don’t got no way to find out.”
As the woman sang, she looked off across the spaces, focusing her
tear-wet eyes upon the purple haze which hung above the Little Moccasin
Swamp. In a moment, the whimpering of the baby ceased, and his tired
head rested in sleep upon his young mother’s ample bosom. After a while
Whiffle reverted to her trouble with her husband.
“I been keepin’ all de money sence we wus married, Skeeter, so when
me an’ Shin quit I jes’ tied up de loose change in a stockin’-toe an’
fotch it away wid me. Dat leaves Shin de eatin’-house an’ de hoss an’
wagin.”
“I figger dat wus fair,” Skeeter replied in an earnest desire to be
propitiatory and prevent any more tears.
“Whut I come to see you ’bout is dis, Skeeter: who do dis little
pickaninny b’long to?” and as she spoke, Whiffle hugged the little boy
closer to her and gazed down fondly on his tear-marked face.
Skeeter saw here another opportunity to break up the fountains of the
great deep and start a flood of tears, so he sought for a diplomatic
answer in hope of preventing a crevasse.
“Shin is his daddy, you is his mammy--he b’longs to you bofe,” Skeeter
replied.
“I figger dat he is my chile,” Mrs. Bone said, beginning to sniffle.
“Yes’m,” Skeeter answered hastily. “I thinks so, too!”
“Shin figgers dat little Shinny is his chile,” Mrs. Bone remarked,
sniffling some more.
“Yes’m,” Skeeter grunted. “Yes’m! Dat’s so!”
“I’s got de chile now, but Shin say he’s gwine take him away from me,”
Mrs. Bone declared, and now the shower of tears began with a rush.
“Whut muss I do?”