"You ain't got no business walking round these hills, miss."
"Looka here who's talking. I got morebusiness here 'n you got. They catch you they cut your head off. Ain't nobody after me but I knowsomebody after you." Amy pressed her fingers into the soles of the slavewoman's feet. "Whosebaby that?" Sethe did not answer.
"You don't even know. Come here, Jesus," Amy sighed and shook her head. "Hurt?"
"A touch."
"Good for you. More it hurt more better it is. Can't nothing heal without pain, you know. What you wiggling for?"
Sethe raised up on her elbows. Lying on her back so long had raised a ruckus between her shoulderblades. The fire in her feet and the fire on her back made her sweat.
"My back hurt me," she said.
"Your back? Gal, you a mess. Turn over here and let me see."
In an effort so great it made her sickto her stomach, Sethe turned onto her right side. Amy unfastened the back of her dress and said, "Come here, Jesus," when she saw. Sethe guessed it must be bad because after that call to JesusAmy didn't speak for a while. In the silence of an Amy struck dumb for a change, Sethe felt thefingers of those good hands lightly touch her back. She could hear her breathing but still thewhitegirl said nothing. Sethe could not move. She couldn't lie on her stomach or her back, and tokeep on her side meant pressure on her screaming feet. Amy spoke at last in her dreamwalker's voice.