When they saw Jem and me with Calpurnia, the men stepped back and took off their hats;
the women crossed their arms at their waists, weekday gestures of respectful attention.
They parted and made a small pathway to the church door for us.
Calpurnia walked between Jem and me, responding to the greetings of her brightly clad neighbors.
“What you up to, Miss Cal?” said a voice behind us.
Calpurnia’s hands went to our shoulders and we stopped and looked around: standing in the path behind us was a tall Negro woman.
Her weight was on one leg; she rested her left elbow in the curve of her hip, pointing at us with upturned palm.
She was bullet-headed with strange almond-shaped eyes, straight nose, and an Indian-bow mouth.
She seemed seven feet high. I felt Calpurnia’s hand dig into my shoulder.
“What you want, Lula?” she asked, in tones I had never heard her use.
She spoke quietly, contemptuously. “I wants to know why you bringin‘ white chillun to nigger church.”
“They’s my comp’ny,” said Calpurnia. Again I thought her voice strange: she was talking like the rest of them.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색