"I never saw you in no earrings," said Denver. "Where are they now?"
"Gone," said Sethe. "Long gone," and she wouldn't say another word. Until the next time when allthree of them ran through the wind back into the house with rainsoaked sheets and petticoats. Panting, laughing, they draped the laundry over the chairs and table. Beloved filled herself withwater from the bucket and watched while Sethe rubbed Denver's hair with a piece of toweling.
"Maybe we should unbraid it?" asked Sethe.
"Oh uh. Tomorrow." Denver crouched forward at the thought of a fine-tooth comb pulling her hair.
"Today is always here," said Sethe. "Tomorrow, never."
"It hurts," Denver said.
"Comb it every day, it won't."
"Ouch."
"Your woman she never fix up your hair?" Beloved asked.
Sethe and Denver looked up at her. After four weeks they still had not got used to the gravellyvoice and the song that seemed to lie in it. Just outside music it lay, with a cadence not like theirs.