Gracie Honeywalker: One tough job

The black clouds drew me into the barnyard. Got to get them chickens, my cow, my horse into the barn before the storm comes. Ain't no use in having no wet chickens and the horses don't like the thunder. Got 'em in but now I'm just sweeping the floor and up comes an old Ford jalopy gets stuck in the mud. Done had a rainstorm two days ago and still got puddles water and oodles mud. White lady and gentleman gets out of the old Model A. I done knowed cars real well, better than any colored lady in all of Newburgh. Old Man Lacey, he let me drive his anytime I want to. But most folks don't know about me and Old Man Lacey.

I ain't seen no woman that pasty-white or freckled since I was on me slave farm in north Kentucky back in '63. She's big as a house, bout to give birth but I don't pay me no mind to this until the gentleman, something about him is real stand-out but something's uppity about him, too, he says she's in labor, can I deliver the baby. Sake's alive, I ain't delivered no white woman's baby in a long time. And this one's small, narrow waist, and I done have no ether, either. She's gone to have one tough job and mine's gone be even tougher, birthing her baby for her. But I finally says yes I'll do it cause Miz Balmoral, that's her name, she's real friendly and I can tell, they're okay with me being 80 and black. Something clicks so in the come and I give 'em my bedroom upstairs, the one the Good Lord Jesus watch over, cross on the wall. He'll keep Miz Balmoral safe.  Now if I can just keep that Mr. Balmoral from bossing me around.