while stamp paid was making up his mind to visit 124 for baby suggs' sake, sethe was trying totake her advice: to lay it all down, sword and shield. not just to acknowledge the advice babysuggs gave her, but actually to take it. four days after paul d reminded her of how many feet shehad, sethe rummaged among the shoes of strangers to find the ice skates she was sure were there.

digging in the heap she despised herself for having been so trusting, so quick to surrender at thestove while paul d kissed her back. she should have known that he would behave like everybodyelse in town once he knew. the twenty-eight days of having women friends, a mother in-law, andall her children together; of being part of a neighborhood; of, in fact, having neighbors at all to callher own — all that was long gone and would never come back. no more dancing in the clearing orhappy feeds. no more discussions, stormy or quiet, about the true meaning of the fugitive bill, thesettlement fee, god's ways and negro pews; antislavery, manumission, skin voting, republicans, dred scott, book learning, sojourner's high-wheeled buggy, the colored ladies of delaware,ohio, and the other weighty issues that held them in chairs, scraping the floorboards or pacingthem in agony or exhilaration. no anxious wait for the north star or news of a beat-off. no sighingat a new betrayal or handclapping at a small victory.

those twenty-eight happy days were followed by eighteen years of disapproval and a solitary life.

then a few months of the sun splashed life that the shadows holding hands on the road promisedher; tentative greetings from other coloredpeople in paul d's company; a bed life for herself.

except for denver's friend, every bit of it had disappeared. was that the pattern? she wondered.

every eighteen or twenty years her unlivable life would be interrupted by a short-lived glory?

well, if that's the way it was — that's the way it was. she had been on her knees, scrubbing thefloor, denver trailing her with the drying rags, when beloved appeared saying, "what these do?"on her knees, scrub brush in hand, she looked at the girl and the skates she held up. sethe couldn'tskate a lick but then and there she decided to take baby suggs' advice: lay it all down. she left thebucket where it was. told denver to get out the shawls and started searching for the other skatesshe was certain were in that heap somewhere. anybody feeling sorry for her, anybody wanderingby to peep in and see how she was getting on (including paul d) would discover that the womanjunkheaped for the third time because she loved her children — that woman was sailing happily ona frozen creek.

hurriedly, carelessly she threw the shoes about. she found one blade — a man's.

"well," she said. "we'll take turns. two skates on one; one skate on one; and shoe slide for theother."nobody saw them falling.

holding hands, bracing each other, they swirled over the ice. beloved wore the pair; denver woreone, step-gliding over the treacherous ice. sethe thought her two shoes would hold and anchor her.

she was wrong. two paces onto the creek, she lost her balance and landed on her behind. thegirls, screaming with laughter, joined her on the ice. sethe struggled to stand and discovered notonly that she could do a split, but that it hurt. her bones surfaced in unexpected places and so didlaughter. making a circle or a line, the three of them could not stay upright for one whole minute,but nobody saw them falling.

each seemed to be helping the other two stay upright, yet every tumble doubled their delight. thelive oak and soughing pine on the banks enclosed them and absorbed their laughter while theyfought gravity for each other's hands. their skirts flew like wings and their skin turned pewter inthe cold and dying light.

nobody saw them falling.