by Irene Latham
I lifted my chin. Wasn’t no time to be silent. Besides, what worse could Mrs. Cobb do to me than just about break all the bones in my hand? “I’d like to speak to Mr. Cobb,” I said. “He’s the boss man, and my daddy would want me to speak to the boss.”
I held my breath as a look passed between Mrs. Cobb and the man flipping the pages of the book.
“You tell her, Mr. Miller,” Mrs. Cobb said, finally letting go of my hand and shoving me forward. I wiggled my sore fingers to make sure they still worked.
I stared at Mr. Miller as he rubbed the top of his nose and squeezed his eyes tight. When he opened ’em, he looked at me hard. “Mr. Cobb is dead. Put him in the ground a week ago. Same day our new president was elected, Mr. Franklin Delano Roosevelt. I reckon you’d have a better chance of talking to Mr. Roosevelt than Mr. Cobb.”
Mr. Cobb, dead? “How come we ain’t heard it in Gee’s Bend?” Something that important, Daddy surely would have talked about it if he knew.
“It’s not my job to tell folks,” Mr. Miller said. “That’s what newspapers are for.”
I scratched under my eye patch. That wasn’t how we got our news in Gee’s Bend. Now, why wasn’t Aunt Doshie gossiping about important things like Mr. Cobb dying instead of silly rumors about Etta Mae being a witch?
And poor Mrs. Cobb. No wonder she wasn’t acting right. Why, Mama would be about half crazy herself if Daddy up and died.
“Mrs. Cobb,” I said, turning toward her. What was it Mama always said at funerals? “I’m sorry for your loss. I ain’t never met Mr. Cobb, but my daddy said he was a real good boss man. Real good.” Mrs. Cobb didn’t say a word. Just kept holding herself stiff.
I wanted to ask what it was that killed him. He wasn’t coughing up blood, was he? They wasn’t calling it pneumonia? I wanted to know everything so I could tell Daddy just as soon as I got back to Gee’s Bend. But it wasn’t the right time. I didn’t need Mama there to tell me that. So I turned back to Mr. Miller.
“You the new boss man?” I asked him. “You the one Daddy will come to now for seed and fertilizer sacks?”
Mr. Miller shook his head and rubbed his chin. Like he was deciding what to say next. The whole time, Mrs. Cobb stayed real quiet.
“She got a name?” Mr. Miller said to Mrs. Cobb. Like I wasn’t even there. Why didn’t he just ask me?
“Ludelphia Bennett,” I said in a rush. Wasn’t no need for Mrs. Cobb to speak for me. And suddenly I wanted to tell Mr. Miller everything. If I could just make him understand I didn’t mean no harm.
“My mama’s real sick,” I said. “And I came to Camden to fetch Doc Nelson. Only the ferry broke loose from the cable and I ended up way downstream.” I looked over at Mrs. Cobb. She had both hands on the shotgun. I knew whatever I said next had to be just right.
“And Mrs. Cobb, she’s been so kind to me. Took me up to the big house for breakfast and a Coke to drink. Then she carried me over here in her motorcar. Can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
Mrs. Cobb banged the gun against the floor, making me jump. “Don’t you be fooled, Mr. Miller!” she said. “You see that eye patch?” She leaned toward him till there was only inches between their faces. “She’s one of them. I just know it!”
“Now, Mrs. Cobb.” His hands got fidgety and he backed away. “The girl just wants to get a doctor for her mama. No harm in that, now, is there?”
Mrs. Cobb’s face turned red, and it looked like she was about to explode. The blood rushed into my head, and I knew I had to get out of there. This could be my only chance.
Fast as I could, I turned on my heel and headed for the door.
Mrs. Cobb’s voice roared above the slap of my feet on the floor. “Ludelphia Bennett, you get back here! I’m not finished with you yet!”
Wasn’t no way I was stopping. Didn’t matter what Mrs. Cobb said.
“Stop her, Mr. Miller! You got to stop her!” Mrs. Cobb said, her voice snapping like a quilt on a clothesline.
“Now, Mrs. Cobb. That girl hasn’t done a thing to hurt you or nobody else. You just need to clear your head.”
“That girl’s from Gee’s Bend!” Mrs. Cobb’s voice came out in a screech. “You heard her say it. Just look at her, Mr. Miller, you just look!”
All my muscles ached and strained as I started to run. Wasn’t no time to think. I had to get out of that store!
Just as I was reaching for the handle, the door swung open, pushing me back inside the store. Two ladies that was talking to each other came right inside. They wasn’t paying a bit of attention. Of course I don’t reckon they was expecting a little black girl to be making her escape at the exact time they was coming in the store to do their shopping.
If I could just get outside, I could find the doctor’s office. I aimed for the space between the ladies and the door frame. Just when I thought I had it, the lady in the cream-colored dress shifted. I tried to stop myself, but it was too late. I slammed right into her, then she slammed into the other lady, and next thing I knew we was all falling.
Soon as I hit the floor, I could taste blood in my mouth where I had bitten my tongue. As I worked to get my feet under me, I realized my hands was empty. The fall had caused me to lose my quilt top. It had landed just a few feet away.
When I reached for it, my backside bumped the rack that was holding all the cloth. One after the other, them bolts came crashing down like bales of hay tumbling off a wagon. I was being buried alive!
After the last one fell, I cracked open my eye. Mrs. Cobb was standing with her arms crossed, looking on as Mr. Miller ran toward me.
Mama always said talking about fire don’t boil the pot. If I was gonna get away, I needed to move now. So I pushed off the heavy bolts of denim, then I started to kick. Just like I was back in that river fighting for air. I reached and grabbed till one bolt of soft cotton shifted just enough for me to wiggle my hips. With one more big kick, the rest of them bolts slid right off me.
Just before Mr. Miller could get to me, I picked myself up off the floor and scooted past the two ladies, who was huddled together like they was scared for their lives. As I climbed over the mountain of stripes and calico and polka dots, I grinned because I was almost there. I was almost out of that store.
Wasn’t till I got outside that I saw my hands was empty. My heart just about stopped beating right then and there. I didn’t have my quilt top no more. But wasn’t no going back for it. Had to find Doc Nelson. Had to find him now.
The Angel
OUT ON THE SIDEWALK, I TURNED FIRST TO THE right. There was a door that said ATTORNEY AT LAW. Beside that was a second door with a window and a wooden sign painted DOCTOR.
“Doc Nelson!” I said, pushing open the door. Above my head a little bell rang, but seemed like I was the only one that heard it. The room buzzed with the voices of ladies standing together in small groups. They was so busy visiting they didn’t even notice me come in.
It was just like the cabin on Sunday afternoons when Mama would meet up with all the other ladies in Gee’s Bend to put a quilt up in a frame. Once all the pieces was stitched together on the quilt top, then everybody worked together to beat the cotton down and stuff it between the top and bottom layers. There might be ten different needles working on the same quilt, and there was always a bunch of laughing and talking. Mama let me help sometimes. But most times I just watched.
As I made my way into the doctor’s office, I spotted on the far wall a poster that had a lady on it like I ain’t never seen before. Her arms was spread wide, and she was dressed all in white with a little hat on her head that had a red cross on it. There was another sign just below it that said JOIN THE RED CROSS AND HELP THE DISTRESSED AND NEEDY. And below that was a small locked cabinet marked MEDICINE.
As my heartbeat slowed and the voices faded, it was like that lady was calling to me. Wasn’t I distressed and needy? It was like she was an angel, and I couldn’t help it, I was walking toward her. Didn’t have no idea how a poster could help me. But there
was something about it that made me all fluttery inside. And it made me think of Etta Mae. About all the times she took care of me.
Wasn’t nothing of the devil in Etta Mae. I was sure of it. All that witch business was just crazy talk. This here was where Etta Mae belonged. On a poster like this one.
“Darlin’?” a lady said as she touched my arm. She had a freckled face with round cheeks. “You sure you’re in the right place? This is a Red Cross drive.”
Red Cross? Just like on the poster. “But the door said doctor. I’m here to see Doc Nelson.”
“That right? Well, come on in. My name is Evelyn. I’m the doctor’s wife.” She took my hand and led me away from all them ladies through another door.
“Now,” she said once the door was closed and there wasn’t so much noise, “the doctor will be back in just a little while. He had to go check on the Patterson boy. Twelve years old and just put a nail right through the palm of his hand.”
I sank down to the floor. I came all this way and Doc Nelson wasn’t even here?
“Now, now,” Mrs. Nelson said. “The doctor will be back in no time. Don’t you worry about a thing.” She patted the top of my head like I was a puppy, then stepped toward the counter that was in the corner of the room. “Can I offer you a piece of pound cake while you wait?” She held in her hands a tarnished silver tray. “Come on, now. It’s fresh made.”
I wiped my nose against my sleeve, then looked up at her. Mama always said it was rude to stare, but I ain’t never seen so many freckles. They covered her nose and forehead and neck. And they was almost the exact same shade as her reddish-brown hair.
“Well, I’ll just have myself a piece while you’re deciding,” Mrs. Nelson said as she picked up a piece of cake. “Mmm,” she said, closing her eyes. “I mean, that’s good.” She swallowed and wiped the crumbs from her bosom. “Now, why don’t you tell me who you are.” She looked at me expectantly as she folded her hands in her lap. Even her hands had freckles on ’em.
“Ludelphia Bennett,” I said, putting my hands in my lap the same way she did hers. “From Gee’s Bend. My mama’s real sick, so I came to fetch the doctor.”
“That right?” She picked up another piece of cake with her fingers and pushed it toward me. I wasn’t a bit hungry, but I took it from her anyway and placed it on my tongue.
That cake fell to pieces in my mouth. I ain’t never had a slice of pound cake so light and fluffy. I worked it around slowly in my mouth, tasting each flavor. First lemon, then vanilla, then a hint of cinnamon. Then I reached for the other piece.
Mrs. Nelson didn’t say nothing else till I had eaten the last crumb. Just sat there watching.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said as I wiped the corner of my mouth. “That’s some mighty fine pound cake.”
Mrs. Nelson nodded. “Now, what’s this about your mama?”
I patted the place where my pocket used to be. Then I remembered. I’d stitched the pocket into my quilt top when I was drying out after my ride down the river. And now my quilt top was lying on the floor of Camden Mercantile.
I slapped the chair bottom. How was I gonna get it back? And how was I gonna tell Mrs. Nelson my story without stitching? It was like I needed the rhythm of that needle going in and out to calm myself enough to talk.
I thought of the blood coming out of Mama’s mouth. Wasn’t no choice, really. I just had to start talking. I just had to set my mind to it and tell Mrs. Nelson the whole story.
So that’s what I did. I told Mrs. Nelson about the devil’s lye and baby Rose being born and Etta Mae helping. I told her about the blood and about Aunt Doshie coming but not being able to help. I told her about the ferry and the river and barn and Patrick and Mrs. Cobb and the witches of Gee’s Bend. It was like that pound cake let my tongue loose.
All the while, Mrs. Nelson’s eyes never left me. When I finally finished, she took a deep breath and let it out real slow.
“Ludelphia, I’m sorry to have to tell you this.” She shot her eyes down at her lap, then back at me. “But there’s not a thing in this world Doc Nelson can do for your mama.”
What do you mean? is what I wanted to say. Doc Nelson can’t help Mama? But he’s a doctor! He’s the one Etta Mae told me to come get.
But wasn’t no time for me to get the word out before there was a knocking at the door. Then a white-haired lady poked her head in.
“Evelyn, we need you in here. It’s just about time for the drawing. And Mrs. Cobb is here. Said she wants to give a big donation!”
I jerked my head up. Mrs. Cobb? Dear Lord, after what I done to her store, she’d kill me for sure.
“Is that so?” Mrs. Nelson said, giving me a quick look and placing her hand on my shoulder. “Well, bless her heart. After all that’s happened.” She shook her head. “You tell her I’ll be right out. And the Red Cross thanks her!”
Soon as the door was shut, Mrs. Nelson grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Don’t you worry, darlin’. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You just stay right here, and I’ll go out and talk to Mrs. Cobb. Surely she won’t hold a little mess in her store against you. That could’ve happened to anybody!”
“But, Mrs. Nelson, she’s got a gun. And she thinks I’m a witch! I ain’t never seen somebody so mad, not in my whole life!”
Mrs. Nelson crushed me against her and rested her chin on the top of my head. “Don’t you worry, Ludelphia. You just wait here.”
As the door shut behind her, everything quieted. All them voices died down, and Mrs. Nelson began to speak.
“Welcome, everyone, to the Red Cross drive. As many of you know, 1932 is our centennial year here in Camden. And with the depression going on, it’s been a hard year for lots of folks. The Red Cross needs your donations now more than ever. With your cash donation here today, not only do you get to feel the pleasure of providing food and clothing and medicine to the distressed and needy, your name will be entered in a drawing for this lovely fur coat!”
A fur coat! You could win a fur coat in a drawing?
There was a chorus of oohs and aahs coming from the other room. If there was ever a drawing in Gee’s Bend, it was for pie or a ripe watermelon. Not a coat.
Oh, Mama. If Doc Nelson can’t help you, what am I gonna do? If only I had my needle so I’d have something to do with my hands.
I laced my fingers together, then unlaced ’em. What was it Etta Mae said the day they came to take away the church piano after Reverend Irvin sold it for new church seats? “Don’t matter none,” she said. “I’ll just play it in my head.”
And that’s just what she did. There was times when we was together that Etta Mae would close her eyes and start to swaying. Didn’t need nobody to tell me she was playing that piano.
Ain’t nobody in the world can stop you from doing what you want to in your head. Ain’t nobody can take hold of your thoughts, no matter what’s happened. So while Mrs. Nelson talked and all them ladies listened, I closed my eyes and started stitching.
In my mind I picked up the quilt top from the floor of Camden Mercantile and held up the pieces I’d done stitched together. I turned it around and over till I had a clear picture of just how it looked so far.
My eye popped open. It wasn’t right. Something about the quilt top just wasn’t right. No matter which way I turned it, it just didn’t look the way I wanted it to.
I leaned my head back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. It was a flat white ceiling, just like at Mrs. Cobb’s house. Not a trace of color on it. I squeezed my eyes shut and what came to me was the river. The brown water and orange dirt and blue sky. I held my breath till my chest ached same as it had when I was still underwater.
Mama always said it wasn’t never too late to start over when you was piecing a quilt. When the colors was off and the seams didn’t quite match up, wasn’t nobody to stop you from taking it apart and starting over. The important thing was to do it right.
I couldn’t think of but one thing
to do. If it was true that Doc Nelson couldn’t help my mama, then I had to get my quilting things back. I just had to. So I could pull them stitches out and start over again.
Dear Lord, I’m begging you! Please help me get Mama’s quilt back. Help me get it right.
I knew now that the pieces from Mama’s apron was meant to go in the middle. It all started with Mama and would work itself out from there.
In my mind, I stitched. Worked that needle in and out, in and out. I stitched and waited and tried to forget what Mrs. Nelson said about Doc Nelson not being able to help. Tried to rearrange the words till they meant what I wanted ’em to mean. Paid attention only to the picture in my head and stitched like I ain’t never stitched before.
Blue Handkerchief
NEXT THING I KNEW, THERE CAME A KNOCKING on the door that sent all them stitches right out of my head. What if it was Mrs. Cobb? What if she wasn’t coming to give a donation but was coming after me?
As the door opened, I scrambled to my feet. I’d outrun her once, and I’d do it again if I had to.
“Evelyn said you needed a doctor?” My mouth dropped open. It wasn’t Mrs. Cobb. It was a man with thick brown hair that was shot all through with silver. And he was wearing a white coat. It had to be Doc Nelson!
My heart pounded as he strode through the doorway, his black shoes coming down firm and heavy. This here was the reason I had come such a long way. This man.
With Mrs. Nelson right behind him, the doctor squatted down and smiled just enough to show a dimple in his left cheek. “Is it your eye?” Wasn’t no shock in his face at all as he studied my eye patch. Just matter-of-factness.
Tears gathered in my throat. “Nossir. It’s worse than that.” Then my nose started to run.
He pulled from his coat pocket a small blue handkerchief and pressed it into my palm. “Take this.”
As tears slipped down my face, I curled my fingers around that thin scrap of cloth. It wasn’t my quilt top, but it was something warm and solid. And smooth as a dogwood petal, like he’d been carrying it in that coat for years.
