The Sittin' Up (14 page)

A
n hour passed. Though everyone tried to comfort me, I was still worried. I was mainly upset that Cousin Babe wasn't with us to bring the baby into the world. She had birthed every colored baby in this town. Folk said Cousin Babe had a special gift from God for delivering. I wondered if Miss Lottie Pearl knew enough to help my ma.

Pole touched my knee.

“Don't worry, Bean. Ma and Mr. Stanbury ain't gonna let nothing happen to Miss Magnolia.”

“That's right, child, don't worry. Let's pray for the new baby and your mother,” Reverend Hornbuckle said. He started praying real loud so that we would drown out Ma's screams.

We sang some more as the sun got hotter. The mosquitoes were trying to pick us up and carry us away, but we kept right on singing. A whole hour passed.

“Here they come, Bean. Here they come,” Pole said, jumping for joy.

“‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away,'” Reverend Hornbuckle said.

Ma was barely sittin' up in the boat, but I was so glad to see her.

“It's a boy, Bean,” she said in a weak voice as I climbed out of the boat into theirs to get a better peep at my new little brother. He was a fine-looking little fellow and he was yellow like Ma. His eyes were wide-open like he had been around a long time. Poor baby boy. Ma had him all wrapped in that pink dead folk fabric that she gave me last night. Papa had a big smile on his face. I wasn't jealous or nothing, I just wondered if he was smiling the same way when I was born twelve years ago. I bet he was.

“Let's get out of these Low Meadows 'fore Ole River decide to come after us again,” Papa said. Reverend Hornbuckle gave Mr. Jabo his pocket knife so that he could cut the other boats from the trees. What the reverend doing with a knife was beyond me. Maybe he and Miss Florenza belonged together after all. She smoked and he carried a knife just like any other man.

“Miss Magnolia, what you gonna name the baby?” Pole asked.

“His name is Wiley. Wiley Stanbury Jones.”

“That's real nice, Ma,” I said, still trying to get a closer look at my new little brother. Holding Baby Wiley with one hand, Ma put her other hand on Mr. Bro. Wiley's casket. I wondered if Ma was planning to tell my little brother that he was born in a boat with a dead man.

“Hold the boats!” Papa said as he rowed in front of us to lead us down Low Meadows Lane.

My heart was hurting for the land and the animals that we left behind.

“T
hank you, God, for bringing us this far by faith,” the reverend said as he watched his coupe float towards the river.

“Amen,” Miss Moszella said, swatting the mosquito that had just bit her fat arm. Sara's laugh rang out like a little bird at the sight of Miss Moszella beating the poor insect to death. Her smile was pretty and her eyes twinkled.

“We safe, Ma,” she said to Miss Florenza.

“Not yet, but we will be soon. We almost out of here, baby.”

My eyes fell on the sad sight of the Low Meadows. The cows were floating like paper, and the chickens were so light they had washed down to Ole River. Most of the leaves had fallen from the oak trees. The willows appeared sadder looking with all the mud stuck to the leaves.

All was silent until we heard Mr. Christian yelling for help. I followed the sound until I saw him on top of his house.

“Don't leave me back here. Please don't leave me back here.”

“We coming to get you,” Mama said in a weak voice.

“Why we helping him, Ma? He don't care about us.”

“Oh, Bean, that ain't the way to act. We all God's children,” Miss Dora Mae said from the boat beside us.

Ma gave me that “I'm going to tear your tail up” look.

Mr. Jabo stopped paddling his boat so that he could pick up our neighbor. Mr. Christian's face was as white as a bed sheet and his eyes were filled with water.

“Get in-in,” Papa said to Mr. Christian.

“Thank you,” he said, holding on to a brown leather bag. His blond hair was stuck to his head and his expensive white-folk clothes were wet and dirty.

“What you doing still back here? Real Kill said you left last night,” Miss Lottie Pearl blurted out.

“I came back to get a few more things, but the car engine flooded. I tried to make it to Stanbury's house, but it was too late.”

“What's in the bag?” Miss Lottie Pearl asked.

“For God's sake, stay out that man's business,” Mr. Jabo told his nosy wife.

I know it was killing Miss Lottie Pearl not to say anything else, but she shut up as we headed out of the Low Meadows. Her eyes were glued to the tree branches, plows, and animals all floating in the water. The menfolk had to row hard to keep the boats headed away from the river, where all the animals had floated.

“Look!” Pole screamed and pointed towards Mr. Luther's store. A body was floating towards us. Ole River done killed somebody.

“Jabo, stop for the body, but let the other boats keep going,” Papa yelled. That suited me just fine. Don't reckon I wanted to see another dead person, but I peeped anyway.

“That's Real Kill,” Ralph shouted.

He was right because I could see Real Kill's boots that Papa gave him last year when all the sharecroppers got a new pair. Mr. Thomas had fired Real Kill because he stayed drunk all the time, so Papa gave him his boots. Like most folks Mr. Thomas felt sorry for the town drunk, so he let him stay in the house but never let him work again.

“I wonder where in the world Luther is,” Ma said to Papa as Mr. Jabo and Deacon Ward put poor Real Kill in the boat and covered him with the dead folk fabric.

“Wherever he-he is, he's alive. He know-know how to survive. No, sir, Ole River didn't kill Luther,” Papa said, looking around.

“Over there,” Mr. Jabo said, pointing at the store. Mr. Luther was sitting on the roof, not even calling out for help. He was just crying like a baby. Mr. Jabo rowed his boat to the store and helped Mr. Luther get in. Mr. Luther wiped his tears with the end of Ma's dead folk fabric, then he started pulling food out of his bag.

“Here, Pole, pass out these crackers,” Mr. Luther said as he reached over and gave her the bag. Pole gave us four crackers each. She was some kind of proud to be helping Mr. Luther.

“How did he die, Luther?” Miss Lottie Pearl finally asked.

“Died just like he lived. He kept that liquor bottle to his mouth all the way to the store. By the time we got here, he was drunk as a skunk. After I gathered the food and we were outside, Real Kill went back in the store for more liquor. I told him to stay with me but he went back anyway. When Real Kill came out, the water was really high. That boy ain't never known how to swim. Next thing I knew he was crying for help. I tried to save him. God knows I did. I told him to take my hand and hold on while I pull him on the roof. He was too drunk. He wasn't listening.”

Mr. Luther put his white-haired head down and cried like I ain't never seen a grown man cry before. I knew it hurt him not to be able to save a man's life. That sho' would have hurt me.

We kept on going down Low Meadows Lane in the water that Ole River left behind. It wasn't long before I heard a noise that sounded like a car, but it was too loud to be a car. There was no way anybody could drive in all that water. The noise got louder and louder. That's when we saw it! The biggest boat I had ever seen in my life.

COAST GUARD
was written on the front and along the side.

“A boat! They coming to help us!” Pole yelled out. All the men were white except one.

“A colored man! Mr. Creecy! Our hope!”

“Hey, Mr. Creecy,” we all shouted, his tall frame towering over the other men.

“Good morning!” he said as the boat slowed down, splashing water all over us.

“Stanbury, anyone else back there?” Mr. Creecy asked.

“I think we got everybody, but it wouldn't hurt to double check,” Papa told him.

“What about the animals? Where is Mule Bennett?” he asked my papa. Mr. Creecy knew how much we thought of our mule.

“He on Stony Hill with the four cows that survived.”

“Go on into town. They got water and food for everyone. I can't bring Mule Bennett out on this boat, but we'll leave some food for him and the cows.”

“I sho' thank you-you,” Papa told him.

“Bye, Mr. Creecy!” we all shouted.

“You was right, Papa.”

“Right about what, child?”

“Mr. Creecy is our hope,” I said.

“God is our-our real hope, child. He will always send his angels. Always.”

We were on our way again when I saw some folk in a tiny fishing boat.

“I believe that's Sue and her boy,” Ma said as she tried her best to sit up in the boat. They were alone like always in a little old fishing boat. Miss Sue's two-timing husband, Michael, ran off with Miss Lottie Pearl's sister, Lita, two springs earlier. To make matters worse, Miss Lottie Pearl and Miss Lita were Miss Sue's first cousins on their ma's side. Miss Lottie Pearl did some talking about other folk, but she didn't ever mention her sister taking her own cousin's husband. No one said so, but I knew because Miss Lita had come home from Philadelphia that spring. When she left, Michael Flowers left too. Grown folk acted like he was dead and ain't mentioned him since then. He ain't dead because there was no sittin' up.

After Mr. Flowers left, Miss Sue kept on doing what she had to do for herself and Grady. I believe she was sick of that man anyhow. He was courting every woman that he could find. I heard Miss Lottie Pearl say he wouldn't hit a lick at a black snake. That's just how lazy he was.

I looked at Grady and his mama out there in the water with nobody to help them. Mr. Flowers should be ashamed of himself. Uncle Goat took a rope from his boat and tied Miss Sue's little fishing boat to ours and we continued on to town.

“Thank you for helping us, Stanbury. We could hear that coast guard boat, but when we got round front of my house they were gone. We slept in this boat all night,” Miss Sue said.

“You-you safe now,” Papa told her.

Grady smiled at Pole.

Wasn't no need for him to even look at Pole. If she ever went to the dance with anybody from the Low Meadows, it would surely be me.

Everyone headed towards town where the white folk were. The farther we got, the lower the water got. Some folk were wading in the waist-deep water. Some folk were riding in their boats.

“Papa, there go Cousin Braxton and Cousin Babe. And he got Cousin Mer and Pattie Mae,” I said, glad that they'd made it safely to us.

“Barb Jean and Coy with them too,” Ralph said. He was glad to see Coy because he was a good boxer. Ralph liked him a lot.

“Hey, y'all,” I said.

“Hey, Pattie Mae,” Pole said. Pole looked like she was some kind of glad to see Pattie Mae. She was older than Pattie Mae, but they loved to play together when she came to the Low Meadows.

“Hey, everybody,” Pattie Mae said.

Cousin Braxton pulled his boat up beside Papa's.

“Y'all all right?”

“We fine. You folks all right?” Papa asked.

“We're fine, Stanbury. I'm sorry we didn't make it to the sittin' up last night. Babe made some coconut pies, but the clouds looked so bad I thought we best stay on Rehoboth Road.”

“You-you did the right thing,” Papa told Cousin Braxton. “We would have been-been in trouble sho' 'nuf if more than-than Low Meadows folk had been at the sittin' up. We wouldn't have had-had enough boats.” Papa was quiet for a minute before saying, “We lost Real Kill.”

“Lord, have mercy,” Cousin Mer said.

Baby Wiley let out a cry. He sounded like a little cat. I don't believe Cousin Mer or Cousin Babe had noticed the new baby before he cried.

“Gal, you done had that baby?” Cousin Babe said as her face lit up.

“Yes, ma'am. I had him this morning. Lottie Pearl remembered everything you showed her from when Bessie's girl was born last fall.”

“I helped,” Miss Florenza said with a big grin on her face. Miss Babe didn't even look at Miss Florenza. I heard her tell Ma last year that she was gonna tell Miss Florenza a piece of her mind if she ever came on Rehoboth Road carrying on with the menfolk the way she do down in the Low Meadows.

“Hand him to me,” Cousin Babe said, still ignoring poor Miss Florenza. Cousin Braxton struggled to get his boat close to us so his wife could get Baby Wiley.

“He is one fine baby,” she said. Then she sang “Jesus Loves Me” to my new little brother.