At Christmas I make up boxes for the Negroes, of frivolities along with needed sweaters and shirts and dresses, candy, fruit cake and pecans, more for my pleasure than theirs.
'She's still my baby, ' she said, pressing two tins of fruit cake and a carrier bag of cleaning products into my arms. I didn't know what to say to her.
At Christmas time I thought of the man's baggy clothes, his still uncut hair, his quicksilver and his dejection, and made up a box for him; a cooked ham, a fruit cake, pecans and candy.