Stella by Starlight (27 page)

Stella held Jojo tighter.

“But a person
can
survive a copperhead bite, if that's what got her. It ain't pretty, but it
is
possible. Antivenom sure would make it a lot less painful, and a lot more certain. Doc Packard coulda helped with that, but he didn't. So we're gonna depend on our friends to keep her comfortable, and our God to pull her through. Understand?”

They both nodded.

“Now say your prayers and get some sleep. We have some long days ahead.”

Stella grabbed a quilt, covered herself and Jojo on his bed by the hearth, and began to pray. She prayed and prayed, listening to the embers crumble, certain she would never be able to sleep this entire night. So she was confused and disoriented when the front door burst open and several people entered, all seemingly talking at once.

Mrs. Odom, who usually dressed in demure long dresses and straw hats, had on a pair of men's overalls and an old plaid work shirt. Her hair was unstyled and all over her head. Stella could tell she'd left home in a real hurry. Her daughter Claudia, looking sleepy, wore a nightgown. And Dr. Hawkins—Dr. Hawkins!—in
his Sunday-go-to-meeting three-piece suit and fedora filled the room with his authority.

Claudia spotted Stella. “Can I lie down with you and Jojo, Stella?” she asked, coming over. “We been in the car all night.”

Stella hopped up, patted the place she'd been sleeping, and tucked Claudia in. Claudia was out before Stella even had the blanket fully around her. Then Stella ran over to the adults. Her father was in the midst of giving Mrs. Odom a bear hug. He pulled Stella into it.

“Stella girl! Praise the Lord! Mrs. Odom here heard about the snakebite, got in her car, and drove all the way to Raleigh to get Dr. Hawkins from his medical conference!” Papa told her, mashing them both.

Mrs. Odom extracted herself from the embrace, but her cheeks were flushed with pride.

Stella felt she was going to burst. Mrs. Odom? She
drove
? The woman who wouldn't ever take the car out for fear of getting dust on it? Praise the Lord indeed!

“And there's even better news!” Papa added, hope in his voice. “Doc Hawkins had some antivenom at his office. He's giving Mama her first dose right now.”

“So Mama's not going to—I mean—she's gonna, she's gonna live?” Stella asked incredulously.

“Nothing's for sure yet,” her father replied. “But at least she has a fighting chance now. And you know what else, Stella?”

“What?” Stella couldn't imagine anything more.

“Dr. Hawkins says that what you did out there in the woods was simply amazing. Cleaning and treatment of the snakebite the way you did probably saved her life, kept her alive long enough for him to get here.”

Stella felt relief flood through her, and, for the first time since she'd found her mother, she cried.

45

STELLA'S STAR SENTINEL

(maybe ill let somebody read this)

SNAKES

Reporter's Note: I am
typeing
typinggg
typing this while my mother recovers from snake bite.

Thankyou to all our
frends
friends in Bumblebee who brought food. And healing teas. And the cakes and pies--yummy

And to Mrs. Grayson who brought me a book on snakes.

What i learned:

-snakes are not mean. Mama
probly
probably stepped on it.

-some snakes are hatched from eggs. i did not know that!

-
simtoms
symtoms
symptoms after being snake-bit are pain and swelling and throwing up. And thirstiness (is that a word?) and not breathing
goo.d.
good.

-numbness and tingling in the face, and stomach cramps. Mama has those also.

and her leg mightt be
damged
damaged for good. that
isnot
is not good.

-antivenom is a gift
fromf
from god. And the proper name is ANTIVENIN. I don't know why. Spelling is hard enough without
docotrs
doctors changing things.

-Mama might have long-term
reslts
results like pain and swelling and difficulty walking

-Mama is alive. Thank God.

46

It was cold. Too cold for Klansmen to burn crosses. Too cold for nightingales to warble. Too cold for sitting on the steps. But Stella couldn't sleep this December night, so even though she knew her parents would disapprove, she'd tiptoed outside to think.

She took a walk on the banks of Kilkenny Pond, trying to ignore the nippiness of the night, the troublesome memories of Mama's ordeal. Despite her heavy woolen jacket, the cold still seemed to ooze into her bones. She figured it was about three in the morning. Nothing stirred.

The sky was so clear that the glint of stars, the glimmer of the moon shimmered across the pond. Occasional small circles radiated from the center of
it. Stella stopped and watched, then looked to the heavens and gave a simple prayer of thanks. Mama now lived with a great deal of pain, but she lived. She lived! Papa had carved her a sturdy cane; the blisters and sores had mostly healed, the shortness of breath all but gone. Her leg remained swollen and discolored, however. Dr. Hawkins said it might get better, might not. To Stella it seemed a small price to pay to live.

Yawning finally, Stella turned back home. She hoped Jojo had remembered to bring in firewood; the logs had just about faded to ash when she'd tiptoed outside.

But before she had managed a pair of steps, she heard a splash, followed by a sudden scream. Concentric rings grew larger and larger on the dark water, then gradually disappeared. An owl hooted. The wings of birds that had been sleeping flapped in surprise.

Stella froze until the second scream came, this one louder, more desperate. “Help!” came a cry. “Help me!”

Stella moved toward the sound, toward the splashing and wild thrashing that followed another gurgled cry. “I can't swim! Help me!”

Trying to find the source of the scream, Stella raced around the bank of the pond, then stumbled to her knees. She looked to see what she'd tripped over. A pair of girl's shoes. Out a few feet, a pale arm extended from the water, reaching for the sky. A head bobbed up, momentarily, and just as quickly disappeared.

Stella didn't pause to think; she ripped off her jacket and plunged into the water, gasping as the cold grabbed her, soaking through her hair, a feeling she hated.
Mama's gonna kill me for messing up my hair,
she thought insanely, wondering at the same time why such a ridiculous thought had come into her head.

She swam hard toward where she'd seen the person go down. Stella could swim, but she preferred not to. Most colored girls she knew felt the same way—they didn't swim because it took a whole Saturday afternoon to get your hair pressed and braided, and it was just too much trouble to mess it up on purpose. White girls wouldn't understand.

The water was deeper than she expected, and oh, so very, very cold. Still, Stella swung her arms through the water, searching, searching. Her fingers were growing numb. Still she searched. Her feet felt like
stones. She searched until she couldn't bear it—she had to get out or she'd die too. She propelled herself under one last time. And she hit something. Stella grasped at it—an arm! She pulled. The person dug their fingers into Stella's shoulder. Stella twisted away but held on to that arm. She kept pulling until a head—a girl's—popped above the surface, gasping and choking. The girl clamped onto Stella, grabbing at her, dragging them both down, thrashing, under the waters of Kilkenny Pond. Stella kicked and kicked, forcing them back up to the surface.

“Stop!” Stella cried when their heads broke the surface once more. “Stop or you'll kill us both!”

Sputtering and choking, the girl kept pulling at Stella's arms, hair, anything she could grab. “Can't swim!” she gasped.

“But I can! Stay still. Don't move! We're nearly to the shore.” At this point, feeling more angry than frightened, Stella, with strong, sure strokes, slowly made her way to the bank of the pond. The girl clung to her desperately, but she stopped flailing while Stella made sure the girl's head stayed above water.

When her feet could feel the bottom, Stella heaved
the girl onto the bank. She was surprisingly heavy.

When at last Stella had her safely up in the grass, the girl's eyelids fluttered open. She looked around in alarm, then rolled over and threw up, water splashing everywhere. Stella helped her sit up, and, finding her own coat, wrapped it around the girl's thin shoulders. Her long blond hair was a tangled mess, and her blue eyes looked wild. It was Paulette Packard.

Stella stared. Dr. Packard's daughter! “Are you all right?” Stella finally asked. When Paulette nodded, teeth chattering, Stella asked, “What in blazes were you doing in the pond in the middle of the night?”

Paulette looked around in a daze, then buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

Stella, mystified, let her cry, until she, too, was shaking with cold. “So, you decided to go for a midnight swim?” she finally pressed.

Paulette wiped tears against Stella's coat sleeve. “No,” she said at last. “It's pretty obvious I'm not much of a swimmer.”

“That's for sure.”

Paulette pulled Stella's jacket tight. “You—you—saved my life!” she suddenly exclaimed, as though
stunned by this realization. “Oh my goodness, you saved my life! Thank you. Oh, thank you!”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Stella said, her teeth now chattering. “Look, we have to get to my house,” she added, “or we'll catch pneumonia or something.”

Paulette hesitated.

“It's just down that path,” Stella explained. She started to stand.

“Wait,” Paulette said. “I need to explain.”

Stella waited. Fatigue was quickly replacing the adrenaline. Her skin felt frozen. She wanted to go home. But she asked again, “So why were you in the water?”

“I like the pond at night,” Paulette replied. “My daddy would tan me if he knew—it's a good piece from my house—but lots of times I just come to sit and think.”