Trouble's Child (3 page)

From a distance Martha watched the march begin, knowing she had plenty of time. Ocie and her family would take the long route to the church that passed many houses. Anyone unable to attend the ceremony could see the bride and wish her happiness.

The church was already crowded when Martha arrived. Titay was in a place right down front. With a magnolia blossom in her hair, she looked prouder than the parents. After all, she had delivered both Tee and Ocie, which gave her special claim. Martha was happy there was still a seat in the back pew.

Soon the bridal party arrived. Ocie walked through the church followed by all of her family. She no longer looked nervous. Now she was beaming. Smiling shyly at Tee as he waited with his family behind him, she leaned toward him and lost her balance. Tee caught her and hugged her close. There were sounds of appreciation for the beauty of the scene.

“Who gi'e this woman in marriage?” The preacher's voice boomed. The ceremony was underway.

There was a long silence. Ocie's father had tears in his eyes.
What he thinkin?
Ocie was his only daughter and she was young. Just fifteen.

When Ocie's father couldn't speak, her mother spoke up and said, “I do.”

Suddenly Martha could not hold back her tears. Who would answer for her?
I ain't got nobody but Titay. We can't even make a weddin party
. She swallowed again and again to stifle her sobs.

But weddings are for fun, and Ocie's was well planned for just that. Her father came alive as he and Ocie's brothers played never-ending music. There was loud talk and laughter as people enjoyed the many dishes. Just as Tee's father was the island's best fisherman, his mother was the finest cook. There were fresh shrimp, tubs of crawfish, lots of Gert's gumbo and rice and many delicious cakes, puddings and pies.

The celebration lasted far into the night with everyone dancing, including Titay. Martha, catching the rhythm of the drums, rocked the party with her movements. There were whispers: “She will take Titay's place, sho, and lead the festival.”

Martha woke drenched. Her little room seemed without air. She got out of bed and was surprised to find no sun. A heavy fog hung over the island. The quiet frightened her until she realized that it was already noon, dinnertime.

Titay was making her rounds visiting the sick. Martha went into the kitchen feeling drained by the heat. Titay had left a covered plate on the table. Curious, Martha lifted the cover. Cake! Leftovers from Ocie's wedding. She could not resist—one piece, then two. The cake made her thirsty.

She went outside to fill the water pail, but it was so hot, she sat under the pump letting the water stream over her. Then she drank and drank. It was a great effort to move. Before she had changed her dripping clothes, she was hot again. Feeling worn, she decided to go back to bed.

When she awoke, the fog had gone; the sinking sun left the sky aglow.

“What'd you do tday? You ain't even swept the flo, no?” Titay was preparing supper.

“It be too hot, Granma.” Martha got busy to help finish the meal. They ate in silence, and while Martha put food away and washed the dishes, Titay went to sit outside. Soon Martha smelled the smoke from rags set out to smolder and keep mosquitoes away. Voices of people who came for advice or just to talk briefly with Titay drifted to her.

Before she had finished the dishes, Titay called in the voice she always used to summon Martha for serious talk. “Mat, come heah.”

Martha stood in the doorway.

“C'mon, sit, girl.”

The smoke curled up and spread out, stinging Martha's eyes and nose. There was silence between them.

“Ocie had good weddin, yes?” Titay finally said.

“Eveybody had good time, yes. Know I did.”

“They liked yo dancin. They all say how good you look and what woman you is now. So I think tis time fo you t' start thinkin bout yo life work. I'm old, Mat. Done kept the way o' this island. I gather herbs, wait on the sick. Peoples look t' me fo midwifin. I hope yuh ready t' take m' place.”

The warm sticky sweat that had bothered Martha all day suddenly chilled. She shivered.

“You mus git ready fuh yo quiltin. I'll vite the whole island and show yo patten. They'll know yo hand's out fuh marryin.”

Martha felt the muscles tighten in her throat. She sucked in her breath, fighting the feeling of suffocation. Across the way in the dark, small houses stood in rows. The light of the stars was strong and bright. The night was filled with sounds, and with the smells of flowers, of the Gulf and of wet and dry things. Suddenly she felt a surge of love for this place.

She longed to tell her grandmother that she didn't want to be married, not now. There was no one on Blue Isle she wanted as a husband. But how could she say she would not have quilting parties, would not marry? She knew of no one who had not.

Titay went on. “You'll like yo patten. I dreamed this one befo you's bo'ned. I see this plain piece wid five rings in the cener locked t' one nother, making a design in the middle o' the rings. Twas so clear that I knowed it would make a beautiful quilt patten. And I prayed fuh a girl chile t' come in this family. God blessed me only wid sons. And they all been gift t' the Gulf. Oh Mat, tis you that keep me goin. I'll teach you so you can take m' place and keep the way.”

“But Granma … can't we wait awhile?”

“Why wait, girl?”

“Cause, Granma. I thought … well, I'm thinkin … I wanna go way.”

“Go way where?” Titay snapped.

“T' high school, mebbe.”

“You done finish school. Now you learn from me. We gather herbs and seaweed. We make the rounds, visit the sick. I'll learn yuh all you need know.”

A voice came out of the darkness. “Titay, we smell yo smoke way yonder, and we yearn fuh yo talk.” It was Alicia.

“Can we sit wid y'all?” Gert asked.

“Welcome,” Titay said.

“Cora by yo house, yes?” Gert asked.

“Cora LaRue?” Titay was surprised. “No, not heah, no.”

“We jus seen er, yes. She move quick thout sayin the time o' day t' us,” Gert said.

“Not heah, no. Passin, mebbe. Come, sit.” Titay seemed glad that they had come.

Martha
was
glad. They gave her time. As soon as the women started talking about children, eggs and chickens, she excused herself.

She went to her small room and lay on her bed, and her grandmother's words disturbed her more and more.
Yo hand's out for marryin … I'll teach yuh
…
we make the rounds
…
keep the way of the island
.

No, no, no
, Martha thought. She had to get away. But to where? She had never been off the island and she had no one but Titay. She had known that Titay depended upon her to become the midwife long before the words were spoken, but now Titay's hopes were stated and could not be ignored. If she didn't become the midwife, Cora would.

Slowly Martha undressed in the darkness and got into bed. The sound of the Gulf in the distance did not soothe her.

FOUR

“Mat, le's git a early start,” Titay called.

Martha got up and opened the wooden shutter to her small window. It was just before dawn. The morning star, big and bright, seemed to hang close to earth, far from the sky. The urge to lie down again tugged at her, but she sat on the bed and slowly put on her clothes.

“We gather seaweed tday,” Titay said, handing Martha a basket and small rakes.

At the Gulf, Martha walked close to Titay along the shore with the basket on her head. She took Titay's arm to give support and suddenly felt as if she had become the woman and Titay the girl. For a moment, a love for her grandmother filled her. Then Titay's words came to her again:
Take m' place and keep the way
, and Martha felt afraid.

Martha wondered how she could ever take her grandmother's place in the hearts of the people. Titay was wise and knew so much. Martha longed to open up and tell Titay about her doubts, about the pain she felt when people said that she was born to trouble. She wanted to say that she could never be like Alicia and Gert. Not like Ocie. Not even like Titay. Words rushed around in her head as she raked in silence, filling her basket, carefully avoiding dead and decaying weeds.

The sun burned through the fog. Waves caught the light, rushing to the shore with caps of white foam. Still raking carefully, Martha thought of the fishing festival, just a month away. She looked at her grandmother, who was raking with great energy, and shouted over the sound of the Gulf, “Granma, yuh think they meant it when they say I make good leader fuh the festival?”

Titay smiled. “They know good dancer when they see one.”

Joy sounded in Martha's voice when she said, “So yuh think so, ahn?”

“I think so, yes.”

When the basket was filled, they started back. People were now up and about. Beau and other Spanish moss pickers with long poles and gunny sacks moved on the trail that led deep into the woods. Smoke rose from many chimneys. Breakfast was over, and now the women were beginning preparations for the noonday meal.

On the way back Martha and Titay saw Ocie and Tee. They had a three-room house like most on the island: one room followed the other from front to back. Tee was sitting on the steps of the high porch while Ocie stood in the door talking to him.

“Hey, cha,” Ocie called to Martha. “C'mon, you n Titay.”

“I'm weary, but Mat'll come,” Titay said.

Martha felt ashamed that she had not visited her friends since they had settled. Each day had given her a new excuse. She placed the basket near the front steps and plopped down near Tee, but one step lower. Ocie joined them and sat beside her husband.

“Long time no see you, no. Why ain't yuh come, cha?”

“Busy. Titay be workin me hard, yes.”

“I hear yuh mebbe leavin, no?” Ocie asked.

Martha looked up, surprised. “Who say so?”

“Tis round. They say you won't lead the fishin festival cause you gon go way.”

“I don't know who tole yuh that.”

“Aw, come on. You always thought you better'n us.”

Martha, stunned, could not speak.

“Why you say that, Cie?” Tee asked. “She never done that round me.”

“She put on airs round teacher, specially when she take teacher's place, yes.”

Martha looked at Ocie, surprised at the attack. Was Ocie just guessing that she wanted to go away?
Sholy I ain't tole er that and fogot it. No
, Martha thought. She had never told anyone except Titay. Who did Titay tell? Finally she said to Ocie, “I don't know what you mean, better'n y'all.” She picked up her basket and started to leave.

“Don't go, cha. I was only kiddin, honest. But I did heah you gon go way, though.”

“Don't bring gossip less you name the sender. Good day, y'all.”

“Wait, I'll carry yo basket,” Tee said.

They walked along in silence, Martha trying to control the feeling of betrayal. Who could be saying that she would leave before the festival?
And Ocie, callin erself m' friend and spreadin mess
.

Finally Tee said, “Don't be shamed if you wanna leave this place. I did one time too. I yearn now, but no use fuh me. Fuh you, yes.”

“But who say sich: I think mahself better?”

“Women talk. But pay no mind t' that. You mebbe too good fuh heah, no? I think, mebbe, yes. And if you git a chance, go. It make you no better, no worse'n us, no.”

Martha fought back the tears. She was grateful that someone understood, but she didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.

When they arrived at her house Tee set the basket inside. He looked at her with a broad grin, then left. She knew he understood her silence, and for that her gratitude expanded.

FIVE

Summer moved toward fall. Martha kept her thoughts to herself and joined Titay on the rounds to visit the sick and to gather herbs. Each morning she promised herself to speak to Titay about the rumor that she was leaving, but each night she could not find the courage to do so.

Finally one morning before they started on their rounds, Martha said, “Granma, I wanna talk t' yuh.”

“Tis bout time. You gotta cide on a dress fuh the festival. You leadin the dance, yes?”

“Granma, I don't think they really want me.”

“Who say sich?”

Surely her grandmother had heard the gossip. Why was she pretending not to know what was going on? Martha wanted to cry out, You tole that I wanna go way, but she couldn't bring herself to say that to her grandmother. “I'll think bout a dress,” she said.

As they made the rounds, Martha listened. Although the women never said anything in her presence, Martha felt that they watched her suspiciously. In silence she went about her work. She prepared cayenne leaves to burn slowly in fetid rooms to fumigate and purify the air; she concocted tea for colicky babies; she watched the ritual of preparing bodies for burial. She went her way as though unaware of the gossip of the women.

Three days before the fishing festival Titay called to Martha in a firm voice, “Come heah!”

Before Martha could ask why, Titay shouted, “How come yuh say you won't lead festival cause you gon go way?”

Martha, surprised by the tone, could not answer.

“Why?”

Martha stared at the floor.

“Heah I am blievin you's a good woman, ready t' take m' place cause yo work been good. I see in yuh the makin o' a strong midwife, n bhind m' back you go n say yuh leavin, yes?”

Martha looked at her grandmother in disbelief. “I didn't say that, no, Granma.”

“Then who did? Why yuh lie, Mat?”

“Please, Granma, I didn't.”

“Then
who
?” Titay shouted.

“I don't know, less it be you!”

“You dare call me liar?”