Trouble's Child (7 page)

Martha relaxed a little, and Harold showed her how the boat could be driven by sails as well as by motor. He showed her how to operate the halyard, giving her a quick lesson in lowering sails. She handled the boom and the mast, as he showed her how the tiller controlled the rudder, which directed the boat. Martha was surprised that his boat had two anchors. She had only seen one in operation. One line attached to the front of Hal's boat had an anchor in place.

“Now come below to see my home on water,” Harold said.

“No, no,” Martha said. “I best go.”

Harold, seeing the fear she had shown at first, helped her over the side onto the ladder.

Martha paused and looked up into his face. “M' granma call yuh Hal. You be Hal, yes?”

He laughed and said, “Yes, I'll be Hal.”

Martha swam quickly back to shore.

EIGHT

The New Year would soon begin. The sun seemed far away in a high sky, and the air was shivering cold. Martha followed Titay on the trail that carried them deep into the woods. She felt no enthusiasm for this excursion. Her mind was on all the schoolwork Miss Boudreaux had planned for her.

She looked back toward the Gulf, and through the trees she could see Hal's boat. The
Marraine
had become a part of the island. Even though the people did not visit Hal's boat, or invite him into their homes, the women greeted him warmly, and the men welcomed him into their circle of talk. Her pulse quickened when she thought of how he, like others, sometimes stopped to talk briefly to Titay.

Presently they came to a wide opening near the marshland where the earth was soft. The trees on the edge of this place grew tall and strong, with moss-covered branches that hid the sun. The place was dark, cold and damp. Martha had never gone this deep into the woods to gather herbs and roots. She felt that this day in this new place marked the beginning of a ritual—an offering of a gift of some great knowledge. Martha felt uneasy about being the receiver.

Titay stopped at a strange bush. “See this?” she asked, pointing. “Look good now. Then come heah and see this one.”

“They like.”

“Yuh sho?”

“Look alike t' me.”

Titay broke off twigs with leaves from the two bushes. “Now look,” she said.

“Oh, they not alike, no!”

“You mus be keen. One's medicine; one's poison. You's gonna have t' know, never guess.”

Martha's doubts surfaced and she felt uneasy. “Granma, do I have t' keep all this in m' head? Can't we write it down?”

“T' do this work, girl, take mo'n knowin. Take bein gifted. Tis a way o' livin. Yuh can't do this work wid jus yo hands n mind. You mus have the spirit. If it's writ down then anybody that read could think they know it. This is meant only fuh a few and you one o' em. I'll teach yuh and yo good works'll tract the nex one fuh the mantle t' fall on. You special, Mat.”

Martha wanted to cry out,
What yuh mean, special?
She could not keep all that Titay knew in her head. She had learned a lot from her grandmother, but there was just too much to store in her mind.

Her thoughts kept wandering back to her work at home and to Hal. Would he continue to live on the edge of the island, or would he leave soon? He wasn't like them at all, with his strange clothes, his talk so different and his odd ways, moving up and down shore with his nets, bottles and papers. People wondered, but Martha was not about to explain what he was doing.

As she chopped roots and gathered leaves, she daydreamed about the time she had gone on the boat. There were so many things she should have asked then.… Did women where he came from marry at fifteen?

“Mat, girl, where yo mind?” Titay asked. “Fill yo basket.”

With the basket filled at last, Martha walked ahead of Titay down the trail back toward home.

Near the chinaberry tree Ocie was enjoying the sun on that cool day. She waited for the younger girls to come to her to take their lessons: to learn to plait hair, to make pillows from moss and to protect themselves and smaller ones from poisonous snakes and plants. Ocie would soon be ready to replace Gert, who had supervised Ocie's training.

“Hey, Mat,” Ocie called, “got a minute?”

“I'm busy.”

“Gimme the basket and go see er,” Titay said.

As Martha walked over to Ocie she churned inside with worry. Seeing Ocie sharpened Martha's guilt for wanting to leave the island. Ocie was satisfied here and the island was at ease with Ocie. And why not? Hadn't she quilted, and married soon after? Hadn't she, as had many women, made her gift to the Gulf?

“Girl, guess what's happenin?” Ocie asked.

“What?” Martha found a warm spot on the grass.

“That stranger gonna stay on. Mebee fish.”

“The men won't fish with im,” Martha said drily, as though she hadn't given it a thought.

“They will, yes,” Ocie said with authority. “They might be usin his boat.”

“Who say sich?”

“Oh, tis round.”

“That's no proof he's stayin, no.”

“The men visit im evey day.”

Martha showed no sign of the excitement she felt.

Ocie went on. “The women all say he make a fine ketch of a husband. Mebbe Titay speak t' im fuh you, yes?”

Martha looked up and the frown on her face and the look of anger in her eyes made Ocie say, “But yo hand's out soon, yes?”

“I ain't thinkin bout no gittin married,” Martha said quickly. She picked at the grass.

“You will after yuh show yo quiltin patten.”

Martha sensed that Ocie wanted to talk, to be friendly. And Martha wanted to talk too, if only to find out what the people thought about Hal. Did they know she had been on his boat? There were so many things she wanted to know, yet she was afraid to ask questions. She might reveal more than she wanted known.

Finally she said, “I gotta go.” She didn't look at Ocie as she got up from the grass.

“Wait, you don't,” Ocie pleaded.

Martha was tempted to stay awhile longer, but the thought of gossip frightened her. “Yeah, I gotta.”

She slipped into the house and went to her room. Now she was angry at herself for not being smarter. Maybe, if she had just listened Ocie would have talked.

In her small room she looked at the walls that were neither papered nor painted. Dots of resin oozing from the pine boards looked like wild honey. Two box crates sat under the little window. One served as a chair and the other was covered with a red cloth. There were seashells and a tiny ebony wood elephant on top of it. The elephant, though old, was still black and shiny. Titay said it was a gift from a man who had come on a boat from the faraway Indian Ocean. Martha looked at these things without seeing them. She was too concerned with herself and what she had to do and with what she wanted to do.

What were her choices? Maybe she could help Miss Boudreaux. Or she could make and mend fishing lines. She could join Beau and his family picking moss. She did not trust herself to prepare remedies from roots, leaves and herbs. She had too much fear and too many doubts.

She lay still and remembered being on the boat. Then she imagined the boat moving slowly, slowly over waves way out into the Gulf. For a moment she forgot the fear, guilt and the misery of her responsibility. Somehow she knew she would leave this place. She would find a way. She would! She went to work on her math problems.

Finishing that assignment made her happy. She went to find Titay. “Granma,” she called, “lemme know when yuh ready t' make the rounds.”

Each day now, Martha gathered the herbs and made the rounds with Titay. As she bandaged wounds, sponged feverish bodies and learned to treat measles and whooping cough, none of the women would have guessed she worked with doubt of her capabilities.

There was always so much to do. Even now, as she walked to the commissary for kerosene, she felt rushed. The day was special when Ovide brought in new bolts of cloth and thread. Often on that day he gave a necklace, earrings or some other trinket to the first woman who made up her mind to buy a piece of cloth.

Today was one of those days. The women were already waiting outside the commissary when Martha came along. They were all talking at once. But when Martha appeared, the chatter ceased.

“Mornin,” Martha said, to break the silence. “Mr. Ovide must bring many surprises tday, yes? He be late.” Ovide came by pirogue, from the same little town where Miss Boudreaux lived, bringing mail and other commodities each day. He went home the same way each night.

The women laughed in anticipation and Ocie said, “You pick yo dress t' wear t' nounce yo quiltin, ahn?”

Martha sensed meanness.
That's all they think bout
—
me gittin married
.

“Oh, she'll be makin a fine one, eh, Mat?” Gert said.

“And that she deserves,” Alicia said, “with all the fellows waitin t' scramble fuh her hand.”

There was laughter, but Martha said nothing. She wished she had waited until later to come for the kerosene. She had too much on her mind for chatter about cloth, thread, quilting and dress patterns. She was about to go home when she saw Hal walking down the path from the Gulf.

He wore his shirt open at the neck and held a long stem of grass between his teeth. Martha had forgotten how tall he was. Now his glowing ebony complexion underlined his well-being. He seemed in no hurry and though he was too far to hear the sighs and stifled giggles of the women, he walked as though he knew he was being watched.

Martha pretended she was not even aware of Hal's coming. But she quaked inside with the secret she and Hal shared. The women must never know she had been on his boat.

“Oh, that stranger. Ain't he fine?” Alicia said, and winked. Even though Hal was now accepted by all, they still called him “the stranger.”

“A fine ketch if ever I seed one,” Gert said.

“Lucky fuh Martha she could have the season's first quiltin.” Ocie teased.

“He'll ask fuh her hand, yes,” Alicia said, and all the women laughed.

Hal came toward them and greeted them in his deep voice, which still sounded foreign. “How are things this morning?”

The women giggled and answered together. “Fine mornin.”

Then to Martha, Hal said, “And is your grandmother well?”

Martha dared not look at him when she answered, “She well.”

Just then Ovide came to open the commissary and the women rushed inside.

Ovide had brought three bolts of new cotton to choose from and, for the one who chose first, a small mirror, but Martha was not surprised when no one rushed to buy.

“A lil mirror like that in
my
house, never!” Alicia said. “Too easy t' break. And when it breaks that's seben yeas bad luck.”

“Good Lord, seben!” Ocie cried.

“Yuh better cover a mirror when it storm, and when somebody die too. If yuh don't they soul'll be trapped in that mirror and the mirror'll sho turn dark,” Cora said.

“Too much trouble. No mirror fuh me,” Alicia cried.

The women's talk upset Martha, but she was more irritated by the twinkle in Ovide's eye and the satisfaction he was getting out of the women's talk.
I'd gladly take that mirror. But mebbe breakin it might bring bad luck. But how?
She remembered Titay covering their mirror when it stormed.
How can a mirror do all that? Mirrors don't do nothin but reflec
.

The women's fear and the smirk on Ovide's face humiliated her. That humiliation turned to anger and before Martha knew it she shouted, “Tis stupid t' think that bout a lil ole lookin glass.”

The women gasped and Ocie said angrily, “Miss Know-It-All …”

“Pay er no mind,” Cora said. “She blieves that. She can't be hexed by nothin, that girl. She already been hexed through and through, bein bo'ned in a stom.”

The other women said nothing, but the hostility on their faces was frightening. They turned, almost as one, and left the commissary.

The mirror was still lying on the counter when Martha went to pay for her kerosene. But before she paid, Hal walked into the store and Ovide went to get his mail.

“I'm glad you're still here,” Hal said. “I want to give you something. You and your grandmother. I owe you two my life, you know.”

Martha was still frightened.

“What about a nice head scarf for your grandmother, and what would you like?”

“Oh, I don't know,” she said, still visibly upset.

“What's the matter?”

Had he heard her and the women? She looked at him. Believing he had not, she said, “Oh, nothin.”

“Would you like that mirror?”

Regaining control, she said, “Yeah, but Granma …”

He grinned affectionately, “Does she think, maybe, you'd spend too much time looking at yourself, is that it?”

Martha did not answer and he said, “I know I enjoy watching every move you make. Do you know how beautiful you are?” He smiled and looked into her eyes.

Martha's face burned and her scalp tingled. She averted her eyes from his smile and intense gaze. Without looking at him, she said, quietly, “It might bring us bad luck.”

“Where I come from we call that superstition. You're not superstitious, are you?”

She looked up at him. “Mebbe.”

“Here, take it. It won't bring bad luck, I promise.”

“But Granma …”

“She doesn't have to know. If you don't tell, I won't.” He whispered, “Don't fear the mirror, fear
fear
of the mirror.”

“Say what?”

Hal repeated what he had said and they both laughed. Then he took his mail from Ovide, paid for the head scarf and the mirror and gave them to Martha. “Tell your grandmother to wear this in good health, and you take care now.” He left to join the men outside the commissary.

Martha covered the mirror with the head scarf so no one would notice. She glared at Ovide as if to say, “I'll show yuh, I ain't scared o' no mirror.”