It had taken many an egg and many a pound of sugar and flour to make so many cakes, but everybody on the whole plantation could have a good hunk to eat today. Maum Hannah had been saving eggs since early fall; and every scuppernong grape and bullace that could be picked and squeezed was made into wedding-wine.
Mary had worked hard all the week and now she lay still with half-closed eyes until all of a sudden Maum Hannah threw up her hands and groaned, “Do, Master, look down and see what a rat is done!”
Mary’s heart flew up into her mouth. Cold chills ran over her as she ran to see what had happened. There it was, a great hole gnawed deep into the bride’s cake’s tender meat. Candy rice and rich yellow cake crumbs sprinkled the shelf and the floor. She wanted to cry out, to scream, but her voice froze in her throat and she fell into bitter dumb sobs. Maum Hannah’s head shook gloomily from side to side. Such bad luck was hard to face. But her hand reached out and gave Mary’s shoulder a comforting pat. “Don’t fret so hard, honey. You eyes will get all red an’ ugly. Wipe de water out em on you gown-tail an’ go get me some eggs an’ sugar out de safe. I aim to make some new icin an’ mend dis cake so nobody won’ never know it was hurt exceptin you an’ me an’ Gawd an’ Satan. We won’t even tell Ben. Satan is de one sent dat rat here to kill we joy an’ make we have sin today. But I’ll show em, e can’t rule me. I done fought wid em too many times in my life to let em get de best o me now. Now, you go on back to bed an’ get warm, whilst I whips up de icin. Gawd’ll help me fix dis cake. He wouldn’ have de heart to let Satan ruin a lil mudderless bride’s cake on de weddin-day. No. Gawd promised to be a mudder to the mudderless, honey. You run jump in de bed an’ get warm. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Mary shivered with misery as she crawled back under the quilts. Maum Hannah whipped the egg whites stiff with sugar, and with many sighs and grunts and prayers, filled the ugly hole full, patted the icing smooth and neat, and stuck some of the wasted candy rice over it. Then she came to Mary’s door and called softly so as not to let Budda Ben hear her, “De cake is good as new, honey. Get down on you knees an’ thank Gawd.”
The cake was mended. Nobody would ever guess it had been hurt. Mary was so happy she gave Maum Hannah a tight hug, then stepped out on the floor and started cutting a pigeon wing while she hummed the tune of “Black Annie, Black Annie Moore—” But Maum Hannah stopped her sternly. “Is you gone crazy, gal? Is you forgot you is a church member? I told you to kneel down an’ thank God an’ here you is singin a reel song an’ crossin you feets. Dat’s a sin, gal, a pure sin.”
Mary grinned and gave the old soul another great hug and hurried back to the shed room to dress. But the morning was chilly, and Maum Hannah was thoughtful.
“You better fetch you clothes in here an’ dress by the fire. It’s mighty airish today. Come eat a tater first to hotten up you insides so you can move fast. Budda Ben put a lot o nice yams in de ashes when he banked de fire last night. Dey’s all good an’ done. A nice soft one’ll do you belly all de good. A full belly makes a brave heart, an’ you’ll need a brave heart today.”
The floor felt cold to Mary’s feet; the big room was drafty, with its chairs and tables pushed back against the wall to make room for the wedding-guests. It looked almost as large as a church. She stood close to the great yellow fire, warming, but Maum Hannah jerked her farther away with a warning. “Mind, gal, dis fire’s mean. Gawd know ’e’s old enough to have better sense, but e would just as soon catch you an’ burn you as not. I done had enough worry-ation dis mornin to last me a long time.”
“Fire couldn’ catch me today, Auntie. Not me,” Mary said, but she stood farther back and ate her potato slowly while she looked around at all the things she had done to make the room attractive. Every board in the floor had been scrubbed white with lye and sand, her hands were still sore with the lye cuts. The walls were fresh covered with newspapers bought from Grab-All with eggs; circles of fringed papers sewed to barrel hoops and tied to the rafters looked like big lanterns as they swung gently overhead in the cold drafts of morning air which fell through the broken shingles in the roof. The wide rock hearth was newly reddened with clay, and the mantel-shelf had a newspaper cover which she had carefully scalloped and cut with holes to make blossoms and stars. That was lovely. She tried hard to get one more paper to fix a cover like it for the watershelf where the cake and wine stood, but not another paper was to be had for eggs or peanuts or anything else. June whitewashed the shelf with the white clay that fell in lumps
