They ate no potatoes that day, sweet or white. Sprawled near Brother, his flame-red tongue hiddenfrom them, his indigo face closed, Sixo slept through dinnerlike a corpse. Now there was a man, and that was a tree. Himself lying in the bed and the "tree"lying next to him didn't compare.
Paul D looked through the window above his feet and folded hishands behind his head. An elbow grazed Sethe's shoulder. The touch of cloth on her skin startledher. She had forgotten he had not taken off his shirt. Dog, she thought, and then remembered thatshe had not allowed him the time for taking it off. Nor herself time to take off her petticoat, andconsidering she had begun undressing before she saw him on the porch, that her shoes andstockings were already in her hand and she had never put them back on; that he had looked at herwet bare feet and asked to join her; that when she rose to cook he had undressed her further;considering how quickly they had started getting naked, you'd think by now they would be. Butmaybe a man was nothing but a man, which is what Baby Suggs always said. They encouragedyou to put some of your weight in their hands and soon as you felt how light and lovely that was,they studied your scars and tribulations, after which they did what he had done: ran her childrenout and tore up the house.
She needed to get up from there, go downstairs and piece it all back together. This house he toldher to leave as though a house was a little thing — a shirtwaist or a sewing basket you could walkoff from or give away any old time. She who had never had one but this one; she who left a dirtfloor to come to this one; she who had to bring a fistful of salsify into Mrs. Garner's kitchen everyday just to be able to work in it, feel like some part of it was hers, because she wanted to love thework she did, to take the ugly out of it, and the only way she could feel at home on Sweet Homewas if she picked some pretty growing thing and took it with her. The day she forgot was the daybutter wouldn't come or the brine in the barrel blistered her arms.
At least it seemed so. A few yellow flowers on the table, some myrtle tied around the handle of theflatiron holding the door open for a breeze calmed her, and when Mrs. Garner and she sat down tosort bristle, or make ink, she felt fine. Fine. Not scared of the men beyond. The five who slept inquarters near her, but never came in the night. Just touched their raggedy hats when they saw herand stared.
And if she brought food to them in the fields, bacon and bread wrapped in a piece of clean sheeting, they never took it from her hands. They stood back and waited for her to put it onthe ground (at the foot of a tree) and leave. Either they did not want to take anything from her, ordid not want her to see them eat. Twice or three times she lingered. Hidden behind honeysuckleshe watched them. How different they were without her, how they laughed and played and urinatedand sang. All but Sixo, who laughed once — at the very end. Halle, of course, was the nicest. BabySuggs' eighth and last child, who rented himself out all over the county to buy her away fromthere. But he too, as it turned out, was nothing but a man.
"A man ain't nothing but a man," said Baby Suggs. "But a son? Well now, that's somebody."