“Kinda late for you to be out here walking by yahself.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you always round watching me,” I say, putting my lunch pail down, and looking at ’im. Iain gone be forced to keep company with ’im.
He look around like he taking in the evening, like we got all the time in the world, or like he part of the wind.
Iain decided how long I’m gone stand for this. I’m tired and got a early morning tomorrow. So I say, “All the times you been round here the last few months, why you speaking today?”
“I want to see you in chuch Sunday.” He speak these words slow, testing the water. See if they light enough to ease the tension, or build a bridge.
I don’t say nothing to that. I step up on the porch, sit on the railing and look down feeling his words, and him in them. I’m looking for something, needing something more than a invitation to make me go back.
I’m starting to feel God ain’t gone be nowhere lies taught. Where white folks can hate us, hang us, and still get the same salvation as “turning the other cheek” negroes. I’m starting to think God ain’t found no where you got to bribe people to do right. I’m starting to think, maybe saying serve me or burn in hell ain’t loving at all. I’m starting to think being afraid to live, and living for dying don’t make sense. I wont to talk to somebody bout that. Start missing Miemay. Now I seen what death is, I wont to know bout life. Feel like Iain living here, just breathing and going through the motions.
“What happened ain’t nobody fault. Nobody blame you for Miemay giving you all them thangs. I did think, to be fair, you shoulda gave it over to Victor nem but Ion know nobody else woulda done that neither.”
I shift my weight on my feet offended, and tired of this conversation. Always feels like I got to defend myself these days, coming and going. So I say annoyed, “I promised ‘a on ‘a death bed, I wouldn’t never give away or let nobody take what’s mine. Iain have nothing then. Iain never wont nothing from ‘a, and Iain never thought this was what she was making me promise to keep.”
“Miemay was good for seeing to it thangs go ‘a way, even in death. Made me promise ‘a some thangs, too.” He laugh a little, and I smile a little too. It is kinda funny when you think about it, her getting me in trouble and ain’t even here. Then I get sad, she ain here to protect me, when he start again, “Miemay the only one treat me like something when nobody else would. Folks been calling me “black this” and “black that” all my life. Always been just Patrick to Miemay.”
Leaning his back against the house, still between me and my front door, he say, “When I was a young man, she told me one day, I was a handsome boy. Ain’t nobody never said nothing good about me, not even my own mama.
“My mama told me to marry light, and, I hate to speak ill of the dead, but she ain never could see ‘a own beauty. Was always looking at the other women round Zion with hazel, gray, green and sometime blue eyes. Then she’d say, ‘I got regla nigga eyes and regla nigga skin.’ Ask my daddy, ‘why you ain marry one a dem girls wit long hair, instead of a nappy headed pickananny?’ He’d frown, tell ‘a how beautiful she was, but she ain never believe him, it was so hard. She even felt like she was marrying up by gittin him, but soon as ‘a babies could cry, we be dark like her. She hated us.
“Then Miemay started coming by to git us and let us play. She loved on us, every part of us. She whup dem kids what called us black all the time. She the main reason I’m reverend here. Her vote here count for a lot. She always go against the grain. Otherwise ain nobody gone let no darky lead nothing. Humph! Maybe it’s good you got ‘a votes now, so ita be fair.”
I take a deep breath, study him.
Then he say, “You was always her favorite, so I understand why she done this, gave you all ‘a thangs.”
First time I ever hear anybody half way sincerely say how much they love Miemay, what they need ‘a for, maybe why they think she done this for me. Still, I don’t know bout Reverend Patrick, so I say, “Why you dig ‘a grave fore she died?”
“Cause she told me to.”
Fore I know it, I’m on my feet, cause I know that’s a lie. I’ll be alright in my spirit slamming the door in his face now. When I go to get my lunch pail, he follow my movements speaking fast as he can, holding his hat to his chest like it’s a lifeline.
“She told me whenever I cry to dig a hole and bury my tears.”
His words, Miemay’s words, in his mouth do stop me, dead in my tracks, so I look at ’im, in his eyes, at his spirit.
He staring back, clenching his hat, biting his lip and frowning like he gone cry right there. Then he go on and say, “I buried ‘a on top of my tears. I dug that hole so I could wrap my mind round ‘a dying. For some reason, don’t feel like I buried some distant relative five months ago, feel like I buried my own mama.
“Use to come every day cause I love to hear ‘a fuss. And I knew she wouldn’t be round long. I was just, yah know, giving Miemay a hard time bout the Bible cause I didn’t know how else to say…” his voice break and he sniffing and wiping his eyes.
“Broke my heart when I found out she knew I done it. I tried to lay dat to rest with ‘a, but I’ll probly carry that to my grave. Iain do it to harm ‘a. I dug the first parts of that grave with my bare hands.” He speaking to God more than me, more than to be heard, but because he got to say it out loud.
I stare off into the sky, up over the crops to give him privacy to compose himself. The sun almost gone now, and the sky turning dark blue mixed with a muddy brown. When his breathing easy, and the silence waiting, calmly I ask, “Why you ain just tell ‘a that?”
“Cause she the one dying. Ain’t my place to tell the person dying, I dug they grave cause I cain’t deal with them dying.” He ease back to the bench, feeling for it with one hand in a trance, staring at ‘a cabin cross the yard.
“It’s over nah,” I exhaust, looking at Miemay’s cabin, too, for a while. Wishing he’da just told ‘a fore she went. Knowing she ain never been one to hold a grudge. Knowing she woulda understood. Still, I know she ain’ nowhere mad or upset with ’im either. “Wont some tea?” I offer, getting my keys outta my skirt pocket and opening the front door.
When he come in behind me, I say, “She ain gimme all this cause I’m her favorite. She gave it to me so I won’t be no slave.” I keep on to the kitchen to make us some hot tea. He don’t respond; it’s quiet in the living room. I see the lamp by the couch come on from the kitchen. I get the milk from the electric icebox, then pour him and me some in the bottom of our tea cups.
When I go in to give him the tea, I ask, “What you ate?”
“Iain hungry. What you mean so you won’t be no slave?”
“A woman always a slave to somebody, her parents, her husband and her children. She always got to do what somebody else say, or base all her decisions on the welfare of ‘a children. Now, Iain got to be in my father’s house forever.”
“You ain gone never git married?” he ask, sitting up in his chair in disbelief.
“Cain’t imagine it.”
“Wait a minute.” He move his lips like he tasting the truth asit’s registering. “That ain’t natural, less you… what they call them women?” He talking to hisself now, then he say to me, “A nun or something?”
“Iain no nun neither.” I laugh a little, first time I done told anybody cept Miemay. He take it better than I spect my daddy would. Hunching my shoulders, I admit plainly, “Ain’t got no desire to be married.”
“That’s what all this about,” he say more to himself than me.
Sipping my tea, I say looking at him, “What?”
“She made me promise to watch after you. I cain’t think why yo daddy cain’t, or yo man won’t one day.”
We both sit in silence for a minute, let that marinate. Then he say, “You ever tell Miemay you ain wont to git married?”
“Yes. And one time she told me I would never get married,” I answer looking at ’im to gage how he taking all o
f this. I won’t never tell him what else she say, cause I don’t know what she talking bout. Then again, I never do.
I don’t know how long we sitting in silence when he say, “You know, I started reading the Bible with Miemay when I was a boy.”
Cause he offering another subject taking a sip of his tea, I think he satisfied with me never getting married. I’m glad he don’t wont to mill it into dust. So I sip my tea some too, waiting and welcoming the change of tune.
He go on, “Soon as you read it, make you wont to ask questions.” Then he laugh a little by hisself, recounting the memory. “Did me that way anyhow. My mama, and daddy nem could barely read. So they told Miemay she couldn’t have me readin it til I could understand it for myself. We hadn’t got to it too good then. I expect she always wanted me to come back to it, but I never did, just always had a fascination with it. Guess that’s another way she made me be Zion’s reverend.
“Sometimes I thank, maybe I let ‘a down cause Iain never read it all the way. Sometimes I use to be jealous of you being able to read it to ‘a, and learn bout it. Sometimes the thangs she’d tell me, Iain know if she was crazy, or if she didn’t understand the Bible, or maybe I don’t,” he say thoughtfully, then seem to get lost in his own thoughts.
“Maybe she was right, maybe I do need to read it all. I think when she was dying, I was trying to git ‘a to come back to church, not even to save ‘a soul, but, cause Iain sure bout how to save mine, I guess.” His voice trail off, and he looking in the tea like it’s in there. “Wish, I could, ya know, talk with ‘a bout thangs. I done started reading it, and, ain’t nobody else know it like she did, cept maybe you now.” He look at me like that last statement more of a proposition.
“We could talk about it,” I smile, accepting, cause I been wanting to discuss it with somebody, too.
“Be nice if you’d come for dinner sometimes, too. You know Mrs. Harper would love to fuss over you. She always wanted a daughter, and you was always the closest thing to one.” He smile.
I soften at the idea of sitting with her, fussing over me, feeding me. Specially since Miemay gone now, and I been feeling so lonely. It’d be nice to have anybody fuss at me or over me, don’t even matter bout what. I’d even entertain more lessons from Mrs. Harper on how to be a lady for company.
We sit in silence, listening to the night come. The crickets sing and the wind makes the trees harps. I think about Uncle Lucius and wonder when he gone have another party. I want to get out more. I think about how the piano done saved me from the silence. I’m lost in my thoughts when Reverend Patrick sip the last bit of his tea, then stand. Part of me sad to see ’im go, but I don’t let on.
I start to put on like I got more important things to do, standing too, then walking over to the front door. I’m moving so fast, it’s like, I’m kinda rushing him out. “Well, it was good of you to stop by.” Feel like I should hug him, or shake his hand fore he leave.
“I need to tell you something fore I go.” He look at the ground like he done something wrong.
“What is that?” I breathe deep and easy.
“I need a favor. Iain wont to do it like this, but it’s the only way it happen.”
Now I’m folding my arms for the news and really looking at ’im. He finna make me wish Iain never invite ’im in.
“New teacher coming to town. She a woman, no family and I thought,” he stop, closing his eyes, like he searching for strength, and I’m already knowing where this going, but I wait. “Let me start again, cause we not gone do this no more. I promised Miemay I’d look after you, and I’m gone do that. And you ain gone make it easy if ya don’t trust me.”
He clear his throat, straightening up his posture and looking me in my eyes. Then he says, “I want the teacher to stay here. Ain never thought to put ‘a nowhere else. I come round here every night to check on you, fore I go home. I know you can handle anything, got ya rifles and all, but I’ll just sleep better knowing you ain’t out here by yahself.”
I lean on the back of the door, unfolding my arms. For the first time, I think, I respect him. Feels like I’m seeing who he really is. The quiet of the night, and the silence of this house still overwhelming sometimes, but I’m too proud to ever ask somebody to stay.
Truth is, I be glad he be checking on me. I don’t go to sleep til I hear his automobile go by every night. So, I take a deep breath then let it out and say, “That a be fine.”
“Fine.” He smile, nod his head “good night,” then put his hat on and go.
Chapter Twelve
THE PERFECT WIFE
“Granger still outside?” Mama ask anybody who hear or know the answer, while she heavy hoofing down the stairs with purpose.
“I’m sure he left, cause he said to send word when the baby come,” Mozelle answers, Mozelle is my baby sister’s best friend.
Having a baby in Zion a community event. All the women in the immediate family, sisters, aunts, cousins and maybe best friends, get involved to welcome the new baby and to help the new mother. It’s like a little party that ends when the guest of honor arrives. I have a full house of women moving round.
Two days ago, you couldn’t pay nobody to come out to my house. Cain’t help but think Grit planned it like this. Even though she say she just wanted to be in a house where there was running water, and where she didn’t have to use no outhouse while she was giving birth.
“Linny!” Mama yell like I’m outside.
“Ma’am?” I answer softly, hoping to bring Mama voice down.
“Start gittin ya thangs tagetha. You gone have to go out after the midwife.”
“It’s middle of the night. She a woman. Cain’t go by ‘aself,” Ella protest.
“I’ll go with ‘a,” Mozelle offer, coming in the hall.
“Still ain safe,” Ella stand firm on ‘a word.
“She thank she a man anyhow,” Jenny spit, going up the steps.
“Iain goin no how.” I’m shaking my head ‘no,’ ending the debate reaching for the barn lantern. “Come on, Mozelle.” I start towards the front door. Mozelle follow me out into the night.
“Well, where you going then?” Mama call after me.
“Miemay’s, to get ‘a midwife tools.”
“I’m scared.” Mozelle stop dead in our tracks, staring down at the old cabin, whose dark windows look like the closed eyes of a sleeping person that don’t wanna be roused.
I don’t care about waking the dead. All I can think about is Grit laying upstairs getting ready to push a baby out, and Iain got no good scissors to cut the cord, or no orange stick to scrub under our nails. In case we got to reach in there and pull that baby out. I take long strides, my heart kinda racing from the idea of it all.
“I’m coming too!” I hear Ella call after me, each word tell me she getting closer.
I never look back. When I open the front door of Miemay’s cabin the light disturb the quiet darkness. I ignore the coolness, that’s more than the night breeze passing through. It’s the absence of Miemay, and almost a year of no hot meals or fires in the fire place. The cold done settled in ‘a cabin.
I step in the patient room. “Ella, come hold this light.”
She don’t speak as she takes it and follows me quietly around. We moving so fast. I’m stacking things on the vestibule. I grab Miemay’s bag and put it up there. Ella put the things I put out inside the bag, while I get extra wash cloths, newspaper for more padding and extra linens. Miemay patient room stocked like somebody coming any day now to have a baby.
I take the midwife bag back from Ella, and she lift the light while I go through it, to make sure it’s got medicine for wiping the baby’s eyes, and the other medicine that goes on the cord after you cut it. I make sure it’s some cord ties in there, too.
When we get back, I go to put on some hot water to clean the tools, but Ella fan me away to go check on our baby sister Ingrid, who we call Grit.
Easing down on the bed, I look Grit in the eyes and speak slow, gent
le, even and firm. “The midwife on another delivery, ain no tellin when she be back, if she be back. So, if that baby decide to come fore she do, we gone have to do this ourselves.”
“You crazy!” Virginia, who we call Jenny, the sister tween me and Ella, jump to ‘a feet protesting. “Linny ‘on know nothing bout birthin no babies! Ain’t even got no kids of ‘a own.” She fold ‘a arms like a soldier ready to go to war. Iain never paid Jenny no attention, so I won’t start now.
“You had a enema yet?” I ask staring in Grit eyes, trying to keep ‘a mind off Jenny.
“Midwife give me one fore she left.”
“Shouldn't've never left,” Jenny add.
“I’m gone shave you and get you cleaned up, and ready to bring this baby in the world.” I smile, trying to appear calm, and make ‘a feel assured.
Grit nod ‘a head yes, smiling, but ‘a eyes full of worry. Then she pull the cover back and open ‘a legs trustingly. We both know Mama ain had ‘a say yet.
“I’m sorry for this,” Grit say when I start examining ‘a. I don’t touch ‘a yet, waiting til Ella come with that water so I can get washed up first.
“Don’t be sorry, you ain’t did nothing wrong. Baby acted like it was coming and then got cold feet.” We both grin a little at this.
“Been here for two days,” she say all sorry.
“Be that way sometimes. You ain’t the first woman to have pain days before it’s time. Matter fact, Miemay use to say them the easiest births. Seeing as how that baby been getting ready since the other day, should shoot right on out.” I smile.
Then I hear Jenny pacing like a yard dog behind a fence, and watch Grit watching ‘a. I know Grit feel it’s something she shoulda done different. I know she always worried bout how she affecting other people, she considerate like that. So I say, “This God’s work in God’s time, and ain’t nobody blaming you for how God work.”
Grit eyes stop moving like the pendulum in a grandfather clock, and she stare right through me when she say, “Seem like a woman ain’t got no say when it come to ‘a own body. Ain’t got no say on who she marry. Ain’t got no say on when she git pregnant, when the baby come, how many babies come, or how much ‘a man touch ‘a.” She start to heave, working ‘aself up, and the tears fall. “Linny you knew, you always knew and understood didn’t you? You the smart one.”
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