somebody had to be saved, but unless denver got work, there would be no one to save, no one tocome home to, and no denver either. it was a new thought, having a self to look out for andpreserve. and it might not have occurred to her if she hadn't met nelson lord leaving hisgrandmother's house as denver entered it to pay a thank you for half a pie. all he did was smileand say, "take care of yourself, denver," but she heard it as though it were what language wasmade for. the last time he spoke to her his words blocked up her ears. now they opened her mind.

weeding the garden, pulling vegetables, cooking, washing, she plotted what to do and how. thebodwins were most likely to help since they had done it twice. once for baby suggs and once forher mother. why not the third generation as well? she got lost so many times in the streets ofcincinnati it was noon before she arrived, though she started out at sunrise. the house sat backfrom the sidewalk with large windows looking out on a noisy, busy street. the negro woman whoanswered the front door said,"yes?""may i come in?""what you want?""i want to see mr. and mrs. bodwin.""miss bodwin. they brother and sister.""oh.""what you want em for?""i'm looking for work. i was thinking they might know of some.""you baby suggs' kin, ain't you?""yes, ma'am.""come on in. you letting in flies." she led denver toward the kitchen, saying, "first thing youhave to know is what door to knock on." but denver only half heard her because she was steppingon something soft and blue. all around her was thick, soft and blue. glass cases crammed full ofglistening things. books on tables and shelves. pearl-white lamps with shiny metal bottoms. and asmell like the cologne she poured in the emerald house, only better. "sit down," the woman said.

"you know my name?""no, ma'am.""janey. janey wagon.""how do you do?""fairly. i heard your mother took sick, that so?""yes, ma'am.""who's looking after her?""i am. but i have to find work."janey laughed. "you know what? i've been here since i was fourteen, and i remember likeyesterday when baby suggs, holy, came here and sat right there where you are. whiteman broughther. that's how she got that house you all live in. other things, too.""yes, ma'am.""what's the trouble with sethe?" janey leaned against an indoor sink and folded her arms.

it was a little thing to pay, but it seemed big to denver. nobody was going to help her unless shetold it — told all of it. it was clear janey wouldn't and wouldn't let her see the bodwins otherwise.

so denver told this stranger what she hadn't told lady jones, in return for which janey admittedthe bodwins needed help, although they didn't know it. she was alone there, and now that heremployers were getting older, she couldn't take care of them like she used to.

more and more she was required to sleep the night there. maybe she could talk them into lettingdenver do the night shift, come right after supper, say, maybe get the breakfast. that way denvercould care for sethe in the day and earn a little something at night, how's that?

denver had explained the girl in her house who plagued her mother as a cousin come to visit, whogot sick too and bothered them both. janey seemed more interested in sethe's condition, and from what denver told her it seemed the had lost her mind. that wasn't the sethe she remembered.thissethehadlostherwits,final(woman) ly, as janey knew she would — trying to do it allalone with her nose in the air. denver squirmed under the criticism of her mother, shifting in thechair and keeping her eyes on the inside sink. janey wagon went on about pride until she got tobaby suggs, for whom she had nothing but sweet words. "i never went to those woodland servicesshe had, but she was always nice to me. always. never be another like her.""i miss her too," said denver.

"bet you do. everybody miss her. that was a good woman."denver didn't say anything else and janey looked at her face for a while. "neither one of yourbrothers ever come back to see how you all was?""no, ma'am.""ever hear from them?""no, ma'am. nothing.""guess they had a rough time in that house. tell me, this here woman in your house. the cousin.

she got any lines in her hands?" "no," said denver.

"well," said janey. "i guess there's a god after all." the interview ended with janey telling her tocome back in a few days. she needed time to convince her employers what they needed: night helpbecause janey's own family needed her. "i don't want to quit these people, but they can't have allmy days and nights too." what did denver have to do at night?

"be here. in case."in case what?

janey shrugged. "in case the house burn down." she smiled then.

"or bad weather slop the roads so bad i can't get here early enough for them. case late guests needserving or cleaning up after. anything. don't ask me what whitefolks need at night.""they used to be good whitefolks.""oh, yeah. they good. can't say they ain't good. i wouldn't trade them for another pair, tell youthat."with those assurances, denver left, but not before she had seen, sitting on a shelf by the back door,a blackboy's mouth full of money. his head was thrown back farther than a head could go, his hands were shoved in his pockets. bulging like moons, two eyes were all the face he had above thegaping red mouth. his hair was a cluster of raised, widely spaced dots made of nail heads. and hewas on his knees. his mouth, wide as a cup, held the coins needed to pay for a delivery or someother small service, but could just as well have held buttons, pins or crab-apple jelly. paintedacross the pedestal he knelt on were the words "at yo service."