Phoenix Jackson was an African-American woman. She had eyes that were blue with age, and her skin “had a pattern all its own of numberless branching wrinkles as though a whole little tree stood in the middle of her forehead,” emphasizing her old age. Thin and frail, Phoenix carried a thin, small cane made from an umbrella to support her weight, but “every time she took a step she might’ve fallen over her shoelaces, which dragged from her unlaced shoes.” The trip to town was not an easy journey for Phoenix. The town was a good distance away from where Phoenix lived. She had to set out early to town for the medicine if she wanted to be back home by sunset. The doctor previously had told Phoenix that her grandson’s illness is an obstinate case, but