Leaving Gee's Bend

by Irene Latham

  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.

  “Go on, now,” he said. “Before Daddy hears us.”

  “You reckon he’s gonna be mad?”

  “Don’t you worry none. I’ll talk to him. Besides, you’ll be back by suppertime. He won’t hardly have time to miss you.”

  It was settled, then. I was gonna cross the river for the very first time.

  Crossing the River

  I RAN TO THE OUTHOUSE FIRST, THEN BACK ACROSS the front yard. The rain had slowed to a sprinkle, but there was still enough nip in the air to send a shiver down my arms. Mud squished between my toes as I got to the clothesline where Mama’s apron sagged. Wasn’t no time better than now for me to get that little piece of sash I needed for Mama’s quilt.

  I set the eggs down on the ground so I could reach up and pick loose the threads that connected the sash to the rest of the apron. Had to pull a little as I picked with my fingernail, to help loosen the seam. Didn’t take but one good hard yank for it to come apart. As I stuffed the sash into my front pocket, I took off running for the footpath.

  I stopped short when Delilah started braying. I couldn’t just leave without giving her some breakfast.

  I poured in an extra scoop on account of the rain and gave her ears a scratch. “Don’t you worry, Delilah. I’ll be back before you know it.” As I gave her one last pat on the neck, I caught a flash of yellow from the corner of my eye.

  I looked the other way and started running.

  I don’t know why, but I didn’t want Etta Mae to know I was going. I just wanted to do it. Then, when I had the doctor beside me, that’s when I’d talk to Etta Mae.

  I reckon I was afraid if I stopped moving I might start thinking about all the reasons it was crazy for me to go to Camden. If I didn’t just keep putting one foot in front of the other, I might lose my courage.

  As soon as I passed the footpath that led to Aunt Doshie’s house, the rain stopped altogether. Up ahead I could see the whitewashed walls of Pleasant Grove Baptist Church. On the front steps I could just make out the tall thin shape of Reverend Irvin.

  Of all days to be sneaking off from Gee’s Bend, Sunday had to be the worst. Trouble was, the footpath went right in front of the church, so wasn’t no avoiding Reverend Irvin.

  I slowed to a walk and tried to think of what I might say to him. Soon as he spotted me, Reverend Irvin lifted his hand in a wave. “Morning, Ludelphia,” he said. “You sure early this morning.”

  The less I said, the better, so I just waved. But wasn’t no way I could get by without stopping. So soon as I got to the church steps, I gave him a smile. Would have been rude not to.

  Reverend Irvin put his hands together like he was praying and pressed ’em against his mouth and nose. “Your mama doing any better today?”

  “No, sir.” I reached up to straighten my eye patch. “Reckon it’s turned to pneumonia, like Aunt Doshie said.” I hated saying them words. But better to focus on Mama than what I was doing out so early in the rain. “Now she’s coughing up blood.”

  “Oh, Ludelphia.” Reverend Irvin shook his head. “That why you came, then? To get me?”

  I nodded, even though it wasn’t why I came at all. It just sounded good. With Reverend Irvin praying over Mama here in Gee’s Bend and me heading to Camden to get help, Mama just might make it. Besides, it wasn’t a lie exactly. I just wasn’t telling him everything I knew.

  Reverend Irvin started down the church steps. “I’m sorry to hear it, Ludelphia. Ain’t no finer lady than your mama. Not in Gee’s Bend or anyplace.”

  I about cried when he said that. Because Reverend Irvin knew lots of folks. He’d been lots of places too. If he said my mama was a fine lady, then I knew it was really true.

  “Run on, then,” he said. “Tell your Daddy I’ll be up there directly.”

  I nodded again. This time it felt like a lie through and through. Reckon Mama would wash my mouth out if she knew.

  As Reverend Irvin went back into the church, I turned like I was heading down the footpath toward home. Wasn’t right to fool him like this. But I could apologize later, after the doctor came and made Mama all better. By then it wouldn’t matter much.

  I waited a second more, then bolted into the woods so Reverend Irvin couldn’t see me going in the other direction. He’d find out soon enough from Ruben and Daddy where I was.

  By the time I got to the river, the sun was peeking through the clouds in places. But wasn’t the sky that held my attention. It was the river.

  The water was making some kind of racket, and it was flowing higher than I’d ever seen it. Why, it was a muddy mess, with all sorts of broken tree branches and dead leaves rushing past. I reckon it was on account of the storm, but that water was moving so fast the cable that held the ferry in place was groaning from the strain. I ain’t never seen the river like that.

  “Willie Joe! You there?” Usually he sat in a little lean-to that was built right on the bank of the river, and just as soon as anybody got close, he’d come out to greet them.

  “Willie Joe?” I said again as I got closer to the lean-to. The door was open, but wasn’t nobody inside. Wasn’t no sound except the roar of the river.

  Where was he? Wasn’t a time I’d come down to the
ferry when the ferry was there but Willie Joe wasn’t.

  “Willie Joe!” I hollered, throwing my head back. Up above, the clouds raced across the sky like they was in a contest with the river. They was in a hurry just like me.

  I made another circle around the lean-to. Still no Willie Joe.

  How on earth was I gonna get across now?

  I sat myself on the wet riverbank to think a minute. If only Ruben was here. He’d know what to do. Or Etta Mae. I reckon she’d have some ideas.

  What was it Mama always said? It takes a heap of licks to strike a nail in the dark. Wasn’t no use wandering around aimlessly. I just needed to sit till I got a clear plan in my head. Then I could tackle that river.

  Without even knowing it, I pulled my needle and cloth out of my pocket. Put in a whole row of stitches before I even knew I was doing it.

  When I was leaving, Ruben said for me to take the ferry straight over. Not to stop till I got to the doctor’s office. Like it was all so simple. He didn’t tell me nothing about what to do if Willie Joe wasn’t around or if I couldn’t find the doctor’s office. Wasn’t no map for me to look at and nobody for me to ask. All I had was my needle and some cloth and a bundle of six eggs.

  I jerked my chin up and patted the ground all around me. What had I done with them eggs?

  My face got hot with shame when I remembered I set them eggs down next to the clothesline. I’d run off without them.

  Now how was I gonna pay Doc Nelson?

  “Ain’t no use thinking about that now,” I said as I tucked away my stitching. Didn’t make no difference about whether or not I had eggs if I didn’t first get myself across that river.

  I stood then and walked closer to the river’s edge. Once I heard Teacher say the distance between Camden and Gee’s Bend was the longest hundred yards he’d ever crossed. I reckon he should know, on account he used the ferry twice a day whenever he came to teach. But I can’t say for sure because I ain’t never measured it. To me it looked about as wide as the distance between the chinaberry tree in our front yard and the outhouse in back.