Leaving Gee's Bend (6 page)

“I tell you what you gonna do.” I lifted my head and peeked over Delilah’s back.

Etta Mae!

I let my breath out real slow. Etta Mae didn’t know how bad things had gotten. “Aunt Doshie says ain’t nothing we can do now except wait.”

“That’s what you think you should do, Ludelphia? Wait?” Etta Mae gave a little snort.

“You got any better ideas? Something like taking a knife out of the wall and shoving up under somebody ‘to cut the pain’?” I threw my shoulders back. “If you hadn’t come back, I wouldn’t have had to go against my mama and let a witch into my house.”

I took a step forward. Then another. What if that knife was some kind of curse? Who ever heard of such a thing, anyhow? If not for Etta Mae, Mama might not even be sick. “And now you gonna tell me what I need to do?”

She flinched. “That’s right, Ludelphia. You got to go get your mama a real doctor. Like they should have done when that piece of hickory landed in your eye.”

I rocked back on my heels. What was Etta Mae talking about? I gave my head a little shake, trying to clear it. “This ain’t about my eye, Etta Mae. It’s about you. And it’s about Mama.” I put my hands on my hips, and we was both quiet for a second as my mind tried to catch up.

“Besides,” I said, “ain’t no real doctors in Gee’s Bend. You know that.”

Delilah nudged my elbow with her nose. She could always tell when I was upset.

“But they got one in Camden. Name’s Doc Nelson. Got himself an office right on Broad Street.”

“Camden?” I gave Delilah another pat, then felt for my eye patch. It was right where it was supposed to be. “Etta Mae, ain’t no way Mama’s gonna let me go to Camden.” Beneath my fingers, Delilah’s skin twitched.

“I don’t reckon she can stop you.”

The blood rushed to my head all at once, and things got real clear. Etta Mae didn’t have a thing in the world to worry about. She was nearly grown, and she’d been to Mobile and back. She had a yellow dress, and her mama was good and healthy. And she was telling me I should go to Camden?

Tears sprung up in my good eye, so I swiped ’em away. I almost reached for Etta Mae’s neck. I wanted to choke her! That way she couldn’t say one more word about my mama.

But no matter how much I’d grown, my hands was too small for her neck. So I did the next best thing. I made fists and I beat against that yellow dress till my arms got tired. Etta Mae stood there solid as a stump against my blows.

Tears streamed down my face, and I started to hiccup. I let my arms hang down. Just rested my head on Etta Mae’s chest and sobbed. After a minute she put her hand on my head and stroked my braids. Same way Mama always did.

“You done now?” she said.

Nodding, I took a step back and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “Why don’t you just tell me the truth, Etta Mae. Is you a witch or ain’t you?”

The glow faded, and Etta Mae’s eyes got even darker than they usually was. “I wish I knew, Ludelphia. I wish I knew.”

IT RAINED HARD THAT NIGHT, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN weeks. Rain dripped through the cracks in the roof, then dripped onto the chickens that was roosting under the floorboards. For a while it rained so hard there wasn’t no point even trying to talk over the racket it made. Wasn’t no way to keep dry neither.

The wetness wasn’t as bad as the smell. I draped a Hog Pen quilt over my head to keep out the stench of wet feathers and quilts ripe with Mama’s sickness. To keep my mind off it, I breathed through my mouth and tried my best to keep my needle moving. Put in one row of stitches, then another.

All the while I was turning over and over the things Etta Mae said about going to Camden and getting a real doctor for Mama.

Was it possible? I mean, for
me
?

If only Mama’d let me go with her one of them times she’d gone across the river to sell blackberries. Then I’d know better what to do. I’d know what to expect.

I reckon I was waiting for a sign. For something to happen that would tell me to go or not go.

“How is she?” I said, holding my needle still for a moment.

“’Bout the same,” Daddy said. He was holding the steam tent over Mama’s face, just like Aunt Doshie said. It seemed to make her breath come easier for a little while, but soon as the bowl and quilt was gone she’d get to rattling again. Hadn’t stopped her eyes from crusting over neither. And she hadn’t eaten a bite all day, not even the broth Daddy tried to dribble between her dry, cracked lips. It just dripped down the side of her neck. But Daddy kept on trying, even in the rain. He wasn’t one to give up.

“Need the umbrella,” Ruben said when he pulled the quilt away and a raindrop found Mama’s face. As Ruben moved the steam bowl from Mama’s chest, Daddy pulled Mama’s umbrella from behind the bed. Mama kept that umbrella for nights just like this one. I reckon there wouldn’t be no need for an umbrella if we wasn’t so behind paying back what Mr. Cobb done loaned us. Then Daddy could have fixed that roof.

I sighed. Could things get any worse? I wanted to go back to them times like the one when Daddy brought that umbrella home from Camden Mercantile. I reckon I must have been about six years old because it was about the time I first started to school.

“Got something for you,” Daddy said, holding the umbrella behind his back.

“Hush, now,” Mama said, like she thought he was just teasing her. Then Daddy twirled the umbrella around and held it out for her.

Mama gasped and her eyes got real big. “I won’t have to wear my rain hat no more!” She pushed the umbrella high as it would go in the cabin, like she was testing it out in a real rain. Then she set it on her shoulder and spun around.

Mama loved that umbrella, all right. Didn’t bother her a bit when I told her what Teacher said about it being bad luck to open an umbrella in the house. She said it was worse luck to get soaked when you was sitting in your very own home.

I reached for Rose, even though it wasn’t feeding time and she wasn’t making a peep. I wanted to feel like I was helping. Only I was tired of doing the same old chores in the same little yard and the same four walls.

I thought about Etta Mae telling me I should go to Camden to get Doc Nelson. That would sure be different.

I pulled the quilt tighter around my shoulders. “What’s it like in Camden?”

“Not as good as Gee’s Bend,” Ruben said, still holding the umbrella over Mama.

“It’s just different, that’s all,” Daddy said. “Got things there we ain’t got here. Like the Wilcox Hotel. And now on the corner right next to it, Mr. Dunn just opened up a Gulf Service Station. For folks to stop and put gasoline in them fancy motorcars.”

“Don’t need no service station here,” Ruben said. “Don’t need no hotel neither.”

“Etta Mae said they got a doctor. That maybe he could help Mama.”

“Well, sure they got a doctor. Just like we got Aunt Doshie,” Daddy said. “Lu, didn’t you hear what Aunt Doshie said? Ain’t nothing we can do that we ain’t already doing.” Daddy dropped his head. “Besides, can’t pay no doctor with sweet potatoes.”

“Reckon Mr. Cobb would help us?” I said. “Reckon he’d loan us the money to pay the doctor with?”

Ruben switched the umbrella from one hand to the other. “Remember that time Mr. Cobb followed us all the way from Camden Mercantile to the ferry just to give us that bag of corn seed we forgot?”

Daddy chuckled. “Thought he was gonna fall over dead the way his face was so red and he was breathing so hard.” He winked at Ruben. “Looked just like a hog that’s done ate too much.”

“But he didn’t have to come after us. He could have let us get all the way back home without that seed. Then we would’ve had to miss a whole ’nother day of work to fetch it.”

Daddy cleared his throat. “You’re right about that, son. It was mighty kind of Mr. Cobb to bring us that seed.” Daddy gazed at the embers in the fireplace. “But there’s something you got to always remember. Mr. Cobb’s the boss man, and we ain’t nothing but sharecroppers. Can’t be bothering him with our troubles. Wouldn’t want him thinking we can’t do our work.”

Ruben didn’t have nothing to say to that. But I wasn’t giving up. “Daddy,” I said, “what if Aunt Doshie’s wrong? What if the doctor knows something she don’t?”

“Lu, I’m telling you, you got to put it out of your head. We’re doing all we can do for your mama.”

I felt heat rise into my cheeks. It wasn’t true. We wasn’t doing all we could do.

Just then Mama started coughing so hard she sat straight up in bed, knocking the umbrella from Ruben’s hand. He scrambled to catch it while Daddy placed his hands on Mama’s shoulders and eased her back down on the bed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” Mama groaned, then rolled over and back again. Finally she settled on her side, and her breathing got quieter. Me and Daddy and Ruben looked at one another, our faces lit up with hope. Mama hadn’t breathed that easy since before Rose was born. Maybe she was getting better now. Maybe that last mean cough was the one that turned the corner.

I stitched for a while longer as the rain kept coming down. Rose squirmed in her sleep, but settled right down when I patted her back. Soon my fingers got clumsy, so I tied off a knot and pushed my quilting things back into my pocket. Then I slid my eye patch under my pillow and closed my eyes. I started to say my prayers, but I reckon I was asleep before I even finished ’em.

The next morning, Daddy was already at the stove when I wiggled out from under the quilt so I could go to the outhouse. I don’t reckon he got any sleep at all between caring for Mama and warming the milk so I could feed Rose.

Sure wasn’t easy having a baby in the house. Or a sick mama.

Daddy stopped me before I got out the door of the cabin. “Lu,” he said, “stay with your mama while I put on some water for grits.”

I needed to get to that outhouse real bad, but I didn’t want to cause no trouble with Daddy. So I just crossed my legs and nodded.

The rain had eased off to just a light drizzle, so wasn’t no need for the umbrella no more. Rain still dripped from the ceiling and the room still had a foul smell, but I reckon I was getting used to it.

I smoothed the quilt under Mama’s chin and made myself look at her hard. Her lips was blistered, and there was beads of sweat all around her hairline. And her eyes looked like they had sunk deeper into her head.

Was it just last night that I imagined she might be getting better? She sure didn’t look no better right now.

“Found six eggs,” Ruben said as he came through the front door. Soon as the door was shut, Mama jolted forward in another fit of coughing. I held her shoulders firm, same as I’d seen Daddy do. Soon as the coughing stopped, I eased her back down into the bed. When I pulled the quilt back up to her chin, I saw the one thing I was hoping I wouldn’t.

“It’s blood!” I said, lifting the quilt edge and fingering the damp spray of red spots. “She’s coughing blood!” Wasn’t no ignoring it this time. And wasn’t no hiding it neither.

Daddy stopped his stirring and rushed over with the spoon still in his hand. He touched his finger to the blood, then lay his head on Mama’s chest.

I had to turn away when Daddy’s shoulders began to shake with sobs. I stood in front of the window and pushed the shutters open just a crack. The drizzle wet my face and fingers, but it didn’t block the sound of Daddy’s crying.

I looked for Delilah, but a mist hung in the air so thick I couldn’t hardly see past the woodpile. The barn sat shapeless as a lump of lard and the Pettways’ cabin was all but hidden. I’d lived in the same place my whole life, but right then everything about it seemed strange and unfamiliar. If it wasn’t for the hens clucking from their hiding spots beneath the bushes, I’d swear it wasn’t my home at all.

Dear Lord, thank you for the chickens. Bless ’em for giving eggs even in the rain.

I rested my elbows on the wet window frame and let the rain fall on my arms. What if I took them eggs to Camden and gave ’em to the doctor? Surely if I was offering payment, he wouldn’t turn me away.

I pulled the shutters closed and joined Ruben at the table. “Ruben,” I said, “wrap up them eggs.”

Ruben rubbed the last egg clean and set it on the table. “What for?”

“I’m gonna go to Camden. To fetch Doc Nelson,” I whispered so Daddy couldn’t hear.

Ruben’s eyes looked like they was gonna pop out of his head. “But you ain’t never been there, Ludelphia. Besides, you ain’t old enough to be going to Camden by yourself.”

I swallowed. “You can’t stop me.”

Ruben was so quiet I wasn’t sure if he’d heard what I said. Then he started shaking his head. “I should be the one to go, not you. I’m sixteen and you’re only ten. I’ve been there before and you haven’t.”

“But you can’t go, Ruben.” I pushed my chin toward Daddy. “Look at him. He needs you for all the chores so he can be with Mama.”

Ruben picked up one of the eggs and rolled it in his palm. “You heard what Daddy said, Ludelphia.” Ruben wrapped his fingers around the egg and held it still. “Ain’t nothing more to be done.”

I bit down on my lip. Wasn’t no time to cry. “Well, I’m not giving up.” Not when this whole thing was all because of me. “I’m going to Camden,” I said, crossing my arms against my chest. “Don’t matter what you say.”

Ruben stared at me for what seemed like forever. “Well, then,” he said finally and began to bundle the eggs. “You take the ferry straight over. Willie Joe, he’ll take care of you. Then don’t you stop till you see the doctor’s office.”

Ruben looked back toward Daddy. “And whatever you do, you stay clear of Mrs. Cobb. You know, Mr. Cobb’s wife?” Ruben leaned down till we was eye to eye. “You hear me, Lu? This family can’t take nothing else bad happening. And last time we was in Camden, Mrs. Cobb had a mean look in her eye. Like a rattlesnake ready to strike.”

I nodded. Mrs. Cobb didn’t scare me near as much as it did seeing Mama lying helpless in the bed.