On a "bright, frozen day" in December, a very old Negro lady named Phoenix Jackson carefully, haltingly walks through the woods and fields on her way to town. She talks to herself and the animals. She pauses to rest. A dog jumps at her and she falls into a ditch. A hunter comes along and helps her get up. Although she is completely worn out, she says, "I bound to go to town, Mister . . . The time come around."

When she reaches town, she goes to the clinic where an attendant thinks, "A charity case, I suppose." But Phoenix has come to get "soothing medicine" for her grandson's throat. He swallowed lye years before and his throat never heals. "We is the only two left in the world . . ." The attendant gives her a nickel. She turns to go, planning to buy her grandson a paper windmill and then make the arduous trip home.