by Ginny Dye
Rose didn’t bother to deny the pervasive weariness that gripped her body. Unconsciously, she laid her hand on her swollen belly. She knew she had to take care of herself for the sake of the little one waiting to be ushered into the world, but the demands were never ending. How long before their child was born? She longed to have Moses with her, but she knew it was impossible.
“I’ll get us some breakfast,” June offered. Just then the wail of her little boy, Simon, split the morning air. “After I give him some,” she smiled.
Rose stared after her sister-in-law thoughtfully and reproached herself inwardly. Here she was pining for Moses, but at least she had seen him five months earlier and received letters from him on almost a weekly basis. June’s husband, Simon, had been called to work on the fortifications surrounding Richmond two years ago. June had not heard from him since, yet she talked to her little son about his father constantly and prayed for him every night. She held onto the hope that one day they would be a family.
Rose took another deep breath of the fresh morning air before she turned to enter the cabin. She had a full day ahead of her. Just then the baby in her womb erupted with a mighty kick. Rose gasped, reached for the railing to steady herself, and smiled tenderly. “I have a feeling you’re a boy, little one,” she murmured. “You already have the strength of your daddy.” As if in agreement, her baby gave another strong kick before settling down.
Rose swung back around to stare east. “I think our child will be born soon, Moses,” she whispered, her eyes welling with tears of both joy and sorrow. “I promise to love it enough for both of us until you come home.” Behind her a wail burst from the cabin. Rose frowned and hurried inside.
June stared up at her from where she was huddled next to baby Simon’s tiny bed. “He’s got the fever,” she said in a choked voice. “My baby boy done got the fever.”
Rose stiffened and moved over to put her hand on the ten-month-old boy’s forehead. The glistening skin was frightfully hot. Rose managed to contain her groan. There was no reason to add to June’s fear - a fear that was justified. Dozens of babies had died during the long winter months when disease had swept through the crowded camp. Hope had risen with the warm winds blowing in from the south. The long days of summer still loomed ahead, but a collective sigh of relief had greeted the moderate days of spring.
Rose met June’s frightened eyes squarely. “Simon is strong. He’ll make it,” she said confidently, praying she was right. For a moment she longed for the abundant supply of ice they had always had at Cromwell Plantation; then she tightened her lips. They may not have ice, but the thousands of blacks who had fled here had their freedom. “I’ll be back in a minute with fresh water,” she said.
Rose grabbed a bucket and hurried outside. In the few minutes it took her to return, baby Simon was even more feverish. His pitiful wails made her heart ache. June had already pulled all the covers away from him and had gathered a pile of rags. She dipped one into the bucket as soon as Rose set it down, wrung it out carefully, and placed it on the tiny body. Rose imitated her actions, handing her a fresh one, just as June removed the already hot rag.
Rose felt a sick dread grip her heart but pushed aside the paralyzing fear. She needed to channel all of her energy into action.
“He’s awfully hot,” June whispered fearfully. “Did you hear Pearl’s baby died last week from the fever?”
“I won’t hear any talk like that,” Rose said firmly. “It won’t help to imagine the worst. We just have to deal with what is.” She cast in her mind for a way to help June. “Sing to him,” she said suddenly.
“What?” June asked in a startled voice.
“Sing to him,” Rose repeated. “The music will help calm him.”
June swallowed hard; then she began to sing in a quavering soprano.
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low
Sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home.
Rose joined in, her soft voice crooning the words that had carried her and Moses to safety during their escape. As always, the words gave her renewed strength.
I looked over Jordan
And what did I see
Coming for to carry me home
A band of angels coming after me
Coming for to carry me home.
The words faded away, but Simon’s cries had lessened, and the stark fear was gone from June’s eyes. “Thank you,” June said quietly. She said no more but continued to hum soothingly as she battled to bring Simon’s fever down.
Rose watched for a few minutes and then picked up the bucket to go fetch fresh water. As she hurried down the street, now alive with throngs of people, she nodded and smiled at the many people who spoke to her but didn’t slow her pace. Her bucket full, she made her way back toward the cabin. She wished she could bring a doctor back to treat the sick baby. The government had finally provided one doctor for the thousands of people in the camps, but he was woefully overworked, and medicine was scarce. Only the most desperate cases warranted his attention, and by then it was usually too late. Rose ground her teeth in frustration. How long would her people have to continue to pay the ultimate price in their quest for freedom and equality?
Rose could hear Simon’s wails as she approached the cabin. For a moment she thought longingly of Aunt Abby’s luxurious home in Philadelphia - of the sumptuous bedroom she and Moses had shared after they had escaped Cromwell Plantation. Aunt Abby had begged her to return to Philadelphia to have her baby, but Rose had refused, believing her place was here in the camps. Had she made a mistake? Was she bringing sickness and death on her unborn child? Her steps faltered for a moment but then strengthened. Her place was here - with her people. She would just have to deal with what came.
Rose and June worked over Simon all morning. Finally, just before lunch, his fever abated and his cries diminished to a weak whimper. Rose breathed a sigh of relief, but she knew the battle was far from over. “I wish I’d listened to my mama more,” she said wistfully.
“You mean about all them herbs she used?”
Rose nodded. “I used to look down my nose at them, convinced white medicine was more effective. Carrie, however, learned all she could. I’d give anything to know all the secret things my mama used to bring down fevers and take care of illness.”
June shrugged. “Ain’t no use wishing for what you can’t have.” She paused, stroking Simon’s forehead. “I don’t reckon there’s any of us that wouldn’t change a lot of things about our life if we had the chance. I guess all we can do is go on, trying not to make the same mistakes and soaking up all we can from each day.”
“You’re a wise woman,” Rose smiled. “You sound just like my mama.”
“From all you’ve told me, I got a long ways to go to be like your mama.”
Rose didn’t contradict her. Her mama, Old Sarah, had been the wisest, most loving woman she had ever known. Not a day had passed since discovering she was pregnant that she hadn’t wished for her mama to be alive. Rose longed for her baby to know her mama. She longed for her strength and comfort.
“You need to be getting on to the school,” June said suddenly.
Rose knew it was almost time for the afternoon session of school to begin. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Bring me in a fresh bucket of water. If Simon’s fever starts to grip him again, I’ll be ready. I’ll just sit here with him while he sleeps.” June gazed into her baby’s face. “I think I’ll just be here and talk to God about my little baby for a while. I reckon that’s about all I can do.
Rose struggled to ignore the heavy fatigue pressing her down as she walked slowly toward the little white school in the center of the camp. She gazed around to take her mind off it. Newly planted gardens had just begun to sprout green life from their sandy soil. Laundry flapped in the breeze while women, holding infants under one arm, washed clothes with the other. The camp was mostly women and chi
ldren. The majority of the men served in the army now that it had been opened to blacks. Those working at the nearby fort put in long days; they left at sun-up and didn’t return till after sundown. No one complained. A war was going on to guarantee their freedom. They would do whatever had to be done.
“Miss Rose! Miss Rose!”
Rose smiled and knelt down to wrap her arms around the little girl snuggling up to her side. “Hello, Carla. How are you today?”
“I be doin’ just fine, Miss Rose.” Carla drew herself up proudly, her black eyes burning intensely. “I made me a decision last night, Miss Rose.”
“And what would that decision be?” Rose asked seriously. It was easy to love the little girl with long pigtails and light skin. Her mother and father had helped Moses make it to the camps with June and baby Simon, who had been born in the woods during the escape. All of them had become fast friends.
Carla took a deep breath, allowing the suspense to build. Finally she spoke. “I done decided I’m going to be a teacher like you, Miss Rose.”
“I thought you wanted to be a doctor?” Rose asked in surprise.
“Well, I reckon I did,” Carla replied, pursing her lips in deep thought. “But then something just wonderful happened,” she said excitedly.
Rose hid her smile. “And what would that be?” She knew Carla was about to burst with whatever she was holding inside.
“I done taught my little brother Andrew to read last night!” she cried, breaking into a glad little dance. Rose settled back in astonishment. Carla just laughed and nodded her head vigorously. “I did - sure enough!”
“How in the world did you do that?” Rose asked, fascinated.
“Why, I just showed him how you showed us at school. Andrew has been wanting to learn all winter, but he done been too sick to go to school. I decided to bring school to him,” Carla explained as if there were nothing spectacular about what she had done.
Rose just stared at her. At eight years old, Carla had taught her six-year-old brother how to read. She shook her head in amazement. “I’m so proud of you,” she finally murmured. She wished all the people who thought blacks were inferior to whites could meet the little girl cavorting in front of her.
Carla stopped dancing and snuggled up to her again. “You think I’ll make a good teacher, Miss Rose? You think I’ll be as good as you?”
Rose hugged her warmly. “I’ll think you’ll be incredible at whatever you decide to do, Carla.” A sudden thought struck her. “I have an idea.” She smiled at the expectant look on the girl’s face. “How about if you help me with the younger children? Sometimes there just aren’t enough teachers to go around. You could help them the same way you helped Andrew.”
“Really?” Carla breathed in disbelief. She drew her slender frame up importantly and spoke quickly. “I’d be most obliged to help you, Miss Rose.”
Just then a call from the porch of the school drew Rose’s attention. She stood awkwardly, swaying a little as another wave of fatigue washed over her.
“You okay, Miss Rose?” Carla asked anxiously. Her little face grew serious. “My mama said last night that she reckoned you would be having your baby anytime. You reckon your baby is coming?”
Rose took a deep breath, trying to fight off the dizziness sweeping through her. She had over a hundred women and children waiting in the school house for her. As close as she could tell, she still had two weeks before her baby was due. “I’m okay, Carla,” she replied weakly.
“You want me to get my mama?” Carla persisted. “You’re looking real sick, Miss Rose.”
Rose shook her head, straightened, and began to walk toward the schoolhouse. A sharp pain ripped through her body. She doubled over, gasping in agony.
“Miss Rose!” Carla cried. “Miss Rose!”
“Get your mama,” Rose managed to whisper.
Then she collapsed.
The sun was sinking low on the horizon when Rose regained consciousness and fought her way through the dark cloud enveloping her.
“Take it easy, Rose.”
Rose turned her head toward the soothing voice. “Diedre... What happened...?”
Diedre squeezed her hand reassuringly. “My little Carla came runnin’ to get me as soon as you done collapsed on that road. I sent her to the fort to get some men to carry you here. We been waitin’ a right long time for you to come to.”
Rose studied her face. Diedre’s eyes betrayed the calm way she was speaking. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I’d say you done wore yourself right out, young lady,” Diedre said sharply. “I done been tellin’ you for months that you needs to take care of yourself better, but you didn’t heed nothing I said.”
“So much to do,” Rose murmured tiredly.
“Ain’t nothing gonna get done if you kill yourself in the doin’,” Diedre rejoined sharply. Then her voice softened. “Everybody in this here camp knows you’d give the very last drop of yourself. That don’t mean you have to do it.”
“My baby?” Rose whispered anxiously. “Will my baby be all right?” Diedre hesitated, obviously not knowing how to respond. Rose’s heart tightened in agony. “What’s wrong with my baby?”
“I don’t know that there be anything wrong with your baby,” Diedre protested. “But it ain’t good for a woman to let herself get in such a state as this. When was the last time you felt your little one kick?”
“This morning,” Rose replied. Her voice tightened. “And then maybe once - right before I fell.”
Diedre peered at her sharply. “What do you mean, maybe?”
“There was a sharp pain right before I fell. I don’t remember anything but that.”
Diedre’s lips tightened. “You ain’t takin’ another step, Rose. Not until this baby be born.”
“I can’t just lie here,” Rose protested.
“That’s exactly what you gonna do!” Diedre snapped, her kind eyes filled with anxiety. “I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you, or to that fine baby you be carryin’. You done pushed yourself way past what you can do. I got half a mind to put you on a boat to Philadelphia.” She snorted. “I would if I thought you’d have any chance of makin’ it. You don’t,” she stated firmly, “so that means I got to take care of you myself.” She stood and put her hands on her hips. “For once you’re gonna listen to what people tell you. I don’t care if you be some fancy teacher. I be the one that’s been a midwife longer than you done been alive. I ain’t gonna have you arguing with me. You got that?” she finished threateningly.
Rose opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, and nodded meekly. “I have to admit, it sounds pretty nice, Diedre. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
Diedre stared at her for a minute; then obviously satisfied Rose would follow orders for once, she turned to where June sat watching from a corner chair. “I told you I could do it,” she grinned.
June laughed, shifting Simon in her arms. “I haven’t never seen anyone handle Rose like that. I’m impressed. She won’t listen to a word I say.”
Diedre just snorted. “Even a hard-headed young thing like her knows when someone is talking sense. Especially someone as old as me.”
Rose watched the exchange with tenderness filling her heart for these two women who loved her. “Simon?” she asked weakly. “How is he?”
June smiled. “I reckon he knew there could be only one sick person in this house at a time. His fever done broke a couple hours ago. Now I’m just trying to satisfy his appetite.” She shifted her weight and glanced down at him lovingly. “My boy done drifted off to sleep.”
Diedre swung back to the bed. “When was the last time you ate somethin’, missy?”
Rose shrugged and then admitted. “Early this morning. There just wasn’t time before I went to school.”
Diedre shook her head knowingly, proceeded toward the door, and stuck her head out. “Carla. Get yourself in here.” Seconds later with anxiety etched on her face, Carla appeared in the doorway. “Go get
your teacher some food. I done baked up some sweet potatoes this morning, and there be a passel of cornbread on the table. Bring a pitcher of water, too. Both her and that baby need somethin’ in them.”
It was night when Rose woke again. She glanced around the darkened room, lit only with a candle, and saw Diedre rocking contentedly. For a moment she reveled in the luxury of being cared for. It was almost like seeing her mama rocking in the chair though Diedre’s ample bulk bore no resemblance to her mama’s silver-haired petiteness.
“I reckon that sleep be the first good one you done had in a while,” Diedre stated quietly.
“I feel that I could sleep forever,” Rose said with a smile, content to continue lying back against her pillow. “You don’t have to stay here, you know.”
Diedre nodded contentedly. “I don’t plan on movin’ in, but I intends to make sure you don’t go gettin’ stupid on me and try to get up. I done promised Moses before he left that I’s gonna take care of you. Don’t figure I wants to face him if you and that baby of yours ain’t fine when he gets here. I reckon I should’ve done this a while back, but I’d hoped someone as smart as you had some common sense, too. I reckon I been wrong.”
Rose heaved a sigh of contentment. “You’re just like my mama,” she said fondly.
Diedre chuckled; then deep silence fell on the room. Rose felt her body relax again, and her eyes drooped down tiredly. A sudden thought caused them to fly back open.
“What’s on your mind, girl?” Diedre asked instantly.
Rose hesitated then decided to ask. “Do you mind being mulatto?”
Diedre peered at her closely. “What you asking a question like that for?”
Rose was wide awake now. “My baby might be. I was just wondering - just wondering what it was like.”
Diedre rose and walked over to settle onto the bed. “How come you talk that way, girl? You and Moses both be black. How you figure you gonna get a mulatto baby out of that?”
