Miss Noni walked past Knot and straight to the kitchen, where she set the basket on the table. The table wobbled under the basket’s weight. Then she turned to Knot and quipped, “Or is Otis Lee and Pep the only two that’s ’lowed to visit?” She began unwrapping herself, and talking.
While Miss Noni talked about the weather and how she had made sure that she and Rose had plenty of firewood, Knot concentrated on keeping the pillow in front of her large belly.
“I see you got enough firewood,” Miss Noni said. She pointed to the corner of the kitchen. “You drinkin’ plenty water, Knot? And milk? Drink plenty milk. Hear?” Now Miss Noni was moving around the kitchen and talking. Have mercy.
Knot didn’t know Miss Noni’s exact age, though she was sure the woman had to be at least eighty-eight or ninety. But she looked much younger; her skin shone. Were there wrinkles on Miss Noni’s brown face? Yes. But they were shallow. And she gets ’round like she’s my age. And what was that nice smell coming off Miss Noni? Smell like limes, or maybe lemons.
“I got ya some lemons, sweetie,” Miss Noni said, echoing Knot’s guess. “I done cut ’em for ya, honey.”
Using both her hands, she unpacked the basket, which held a lot more than lemons. There was bread, a jar of preserves, and eggs that Miss Noni had probably taken from Otis Lee’s coop while he was at work. Or she may have gotten them while Pep was up-bridge at the general store and Otis Lee was in the front yard talking to a neighbor. Miss Noni set some things on the table; others, she took to the pantry.
“Lemons for what, Miss Noni?” Knot already knew the answer. The older woman told Knot to suck on the lemon to soothe her sour stomach if that was still a problem. She unwrapped the white cloth filled with lemon wedges and handed one to Knot.
“Take this,” Miss Noni commanded. Knot took the whole bundle from the older woman’s hand and set it on the table. “Pep ain’t tell you ’bout the lemons?” Knot didn’t get a chance to answer the question, because Miss Noni had gone back to talking about other things. “When I was a just a lil thang, the ol’ woman who looked after us when our mamas was in the fields, her place used to be just ’bout in the same spot as this house you livin’ in.”
Knot sighed. “I know, Miss Noni.”
“I told you ’bout her?”
“Yeah.”
And in unison Knot and Miss Noni said, “Aunt Buddy.”
“Aunt Buddy lived to see me have my own first child,” Miss Noni went on. “And she was ’bout ninety-five then.” She counted her fingers, clapped her hands and said, “Six years older’n I is right now! Ain’t that somethin’, Knot?”
Knot sucked her teeth. It was at that moment she figured she might as well move the pillow she had been holding. All this damn talk about babies.
After tossing the pillow against the closest wall, she sat at the table, which was half covered with food. She must have had a look on her face to go along with the mad feeling she had.
“What’s the matter, love?” Miss Noni asked.
“They promised me they wouldn’t tell,” Knot grumbled. She was now craving a drink—her first craving for anything in a couple of days.
“Nobody tol’ me nothin’, puddin’,” Miss Noni said. “Well, just that you got the pox. That’s what y’all young folk call it nowadays?” This time Knot didn’t try to answer the question. She wouldn’t have been able to, because Miss Noni was talking about her own pregnancies.
Knot watched Miss Noni as she went to the icebox and put the lemons in next to the block of ice. She then revealed to Knot that she had seen Otis Lee and Pep’s comings and goings at Knot’s house.
“They was even walkin’ like they got secrets,” Miss Noni said. Knot would have loved to know how Miss Noni had been able to see all of what she’d just described from far back in Otis Lee’s yard. But Knot didn’t want to know right then. She’d had enough of Miss Noni’s talking already.
Miss Noni’s visit lasted just under two hours. She cleaned a little and changed the linens. Over and over, Knot said that she appreciated the help but that she was able to do those chores herself. Miss Noni looked around the rooms, shook her head, and continued her work.
Knot thought of ways to get a sip of liquor while Miss Noni was there in the house. She believed that if she could get just one swallow, she might be able to handle the old woman until she got tired. And when’s that gon’ be? She look like she might go home and clean her own house when she get through with mine.
Miss Noni went in the bedroom to sweep. That was Knot’s chance to tiptoe to the pantry, and she took it. She counted four swallows before closing the jar of moonshine. Those four swallows helped Knot ask a question that had been worrying her mind from the time she had let Miss Noni see her belly.
“I ain’t gon’ tell nobody ’bout yo’ pox, sweetie,” Miss Noni said. “You think I’d do that?”
Knot didn’t know what to say, but she wasn’t going to apologize.
“I don’t mean no harm by it. Just need to know,” Knot explained.
Miss Noni told Knot there was no need to worry. “Just ’cause I talk ’til I’m tired don’t mean I can’t hold a secret. I got secrets in here”—she pointed to her left temple—“that’ll make folk hate me if they got out. My own flesh and blood. Hear?” She went into the pantry and began straightening things. Knot thought that part of their conversation had ended. “But you know somethin’, Knot? Sometimes it’s best to keep ’em locked inside. Secrets. Best for everybody sometimes.”
You mean secrets like you really Otis Lee’s great-grandmamma, not his grandmamma? Knot just shook her head and said, “Yeah.”
When Miss Noni was done with all the cleaning, and done with all the storytelling about her days as a young wife and mother, she rewrapped herself in all those garments, kissed Knot on the cheek, and told her to take good care of herself.
“Lots of water!” Miss Noni shouted on her way out the door. “And milk! Hear?”
Later that week, Otis Lee and Pep came to check on her. Miss Noni had gone to their house and told them she knew everything. Pep said Miss Noni cursed them for not having trusted her with Knot’s secret. Knot didn’t care to hear any of that.
“The Waters ain’t changed they minds, have they?” Knot asked.
“Naw,” Otis Lee replied. “Don’t worry ’bout that.” He reminded her of how many years the couple had been praying for a child of their own. “They figure the Lord must not want it to go that way. But like I say, I know they got plenty love to give to anybody, ’specially a child.”
When Knot had first told Otis Lee that she was expecting, and asked him for help finding adoptive parents, she had assumed that he would ask the Mannings first. He’d told her that even though he knew they had the same love to give, plus more, he also knew their business—the general store—was like a child to them.
While Otis Lee spoke about what a good choice Phillip and Lady were to raise the soon-to-come baby, he picked his teeth with a sewing needle. Knot wondered why Pep sat there and let him do that in front of people. When he finished picking, he set the needle down on the plate Knot had just served him bread pudding. He’d done this many times before, but now that Knot was pregnant, it annoyed her. And Pep had a habit of rubbing one hand with the other. That irritated Knot even more. She didn’t understand why these things bothered her so, but they did. And as if those things weren’t enough, her feet and legs ached. She tried her best to reach down and rub them, but her stomach would no longer allow it.
Pep moved her chair in front of Knot’s, and then, to Knot’s surprise, one of her own legs was on Pep’s lap, being rubbed and squeezed. It was the best thing Knot had experienced in days.
“You worryin’ ’bout Lady and Phil changin’ they minds,” Pep said, “but it’s liable to be yo mind that gets changed when that baby come.”
Knot slid her foot off Pep’s lap and replied, “No, my mind ain’t gon’ get changed. And I wish you’d let up ’bout that, Pep.”
&nbs
p; Knot and Pep rolled their eyes at each other. Pep motioned for Knot to put her swollen foot back on her lap and went back to rubbing and squeezing.
It was on a Saturday afternoon in July of ’42 when dull pains forced Knot to pace two rooms of the little house. A shot of the clear elixir only helped her a bit. Knot, being as no-nonsense as she was, knew she had a long day (or longer) ahead of her—a long day of pain. She would not allow herself to be fooled into believing otherwise. She had seen her older sisters, Mary and Iris, giving birth. They had cursed and screamed as though Satan were standing next to their beds. The rooms had smelled as though someone were cleaning fresh game. Mary, Knot’s oldest sister, had asked the midwife to end her misery.
“I can’t take another fuckin’ minute of it!” Mary had screamed. And after they had pulled the second round of shit-and-blood-covered rags from under her, she said to her mother, “I’m dying. Y’all might as well smother me and get it over with.”
Knot remembered having to turn away from Mary because she herself was about to die—from laughing.
Knot’s mother, speaking most eloquently, had whispered, “Quiet, now, Mary. Every woman feels like she’s dying when there’s a whole other person coming out of her. It’ll be over before you know it. Breathe.” Now Knot knew Mary’s pain.
At least two hours passed before Knot felt something warm moving slowly down her leg. When it slid from her ankle onto the wooden floor, she bent over to examine it. It looked like snot. And when she stood back up, what seemed like a river of pee fell from between her thighs. She felt the weight inside of her move lower.
“Breezy!” Knot yelled from her bedroom window. “Come here a minute.”
The boy came running and grinning, just as he did when Otis Lee or Pep sent him to tell or take Knot one thing or the other. He was holding two kittens. He held them tenderly, one in each arm, as if they were babies. Damn if he ain’t got to have two of everything.
“Is Pep home?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Breezy answered.
“What you hollerin’ for? I’m right in front of ya.”
Breezy shrugged and stood still. Knot realized even her own voice sounded too loud.
“Well, take them cats back to they mama, and run tell yours that my time’s come. Tell her just like that. Hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered this time. But when he ran from her window, it seemed as though the sound of his shoes hitting against the dirt was too loud, too. Everything was so loud. And everything was aggravating. The sun was shining too bright, the wind was blowing too hard, the sweat on her lips was too salty.
Knot kept pacing until Pep, Otis Lee, and Miss Noni all arrived with their arms full of this and that. Knot wondered who had gone and gotten Miss Noni.
“Why in the hell y’all got Noni wit’ y’all?” she exclaimed when Miss Noni went to the bedroom to do God knew what. “Do I look like I got patience for her right now? Shit, I ain’t even got patience for me right now.”
Knot sat on a kitchen chair, and Pep rushed to her. Pep told Otis Lee to put his bundle of supplies on the table and get out.
“You in good hands,” Otis Lee said to Knot on his way out. He smiled. “Pep’s gotcha.” Once he was gone, Pep told Knot to slide to the edge of the chair.
“You doin’ good, Knot,” Pep reported after lifting Knot’s slip and looking between her legs. “Things is goin’ just like they s’pose to. Get on back up and walk a lil more. That’ll help ya later on.”
As Knot expected, the pains became much fiercer. Some of the sounds and words that came from her own mouth frightened her. And there was the sound of Miss Noni’s mouth running.
“Well, you lucky you still young,” Miss Noni said. “I was a young girl when I had Gertrude. But that Rose snuck up on us. I was over forty when I got big wit’ her. And I tell you, honey, that was a hard day. I—”
“Miss Noni,” Knot cut in. She was lying on her side.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“You know I love you, don’t ya?” Knot said.
“I know it, sugar.”
“Good,” Knot replied. “Now, will you please hush all that goddamn talkin’?”
Miss Noni laughed, clapped her hands, and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
For a moment Knot worried that something might be going wrong: the pains had slowed. But Pep assured her that it was normal for the body to take breaks. And Knot trusted her words. Pep had delivered many babies, colored and white. She came from a long line of midwives. Pep had given birth to her own son with no help at all. Knot had listened to Otis Lee tell the story at least a hundred times. Otis Lee had helped Pep to the bed so that she would be comfortable while he’d be away getting help. But before he could get his boots laced up, Pep had Breezy in her arms, clearing his mouth with her finger. Then the boy had let out the loudest cry either of them claimed they had ever heard from a newborn. “It all happen quick as a breeze, Knot,” Otis Lee’d said. Knot hoped she would have the same luck Pep had.
Knot wanted to ask Pep if Otis Lee was nearby. As much of a meddler as she believed him to be, he was also the most peaceful person she knew on Albemarle Lane. If he could just sit out in the kitchen while she labored, she might feel even safer than Pep and Miss Noni already made her feel.
“Pop,” Knot heard Breezy say outside of her bedroom window, “what my mama and Ma Noni doin’ with Knot?”
“Knot ain’t feelin’ so good right now,” Knot heard Otis Lee say. “They gon’ sit with her a while, ’til she feel better. She’ll be all right. You go on and play with yo’ buddies. Go on. Leave them cats alone, ’fore that mama cat scratch yo’ face up.”
Hearing her bossy friend’s voice gave Knot more comfort. Then she thought about how her pa would be worried crazy if he were there. Mad and worried.
An hour later, Pep tried to lay the plump, angry, minute-old girl onto Knot’s chest. “Lay her in the other room, Pep,” Knot ordered. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the newest person in the room, so she turned her face away from them all.
“She got to be fed, sugar,” Miss Noni protested.
“Not right this minute,” Knot said. She felt an exhaustion she’d never known was possible.
The baby made those sweet sounds that caused people to want to hold and kiss them. Even Knot had been tempted by those sounds when her nephews were born.
“Please take her away!” Knot yelled. She wished she had pulled the sheet, or one of the pillows, over her own face, because before Pep was all the way out of the room, Knot looked up and caught a glimpse of the child’s face. Her eyes were wide open, taking in the world. It was the prettiest, and most dangerous, glimpse Knot had ever taken in her life.
Knot heard Pep ask Otis Lee to go and tell Mr. and Mrs. Waters that the baby had arrived and that it was a healthy girl. “And tell ’em to get they bottles and milk ready,” she heard Pep say. And although Otis Lee didn’t say anything in return, she knew he must have been disappointed in her.
With the going down of the sun came Lady and Phillip Waters. Knot hadn’t seen so much smiling in her life. They came to her bedroom doorway to wish her good health and to thank her for what Lady referred to over and over as a gift. Secretly, Knot was happy to see their joy.
Lady was dressed entirely in white, like a nurse. And her eyes were spilling tears. To Knot, she looked as though she wanted to take the baby and fly away. And Phillip, he looked like he was ready to fly off behind his wife and new child. If Heaven’s a real place, Knot thought to herself, them two is surely goin’.
From her bed, Knot watched Miss Noni wrap the baby carefully. Then she passed the bundle to Lady, who headed for the door, cooing and thanking God, her arms filled with baby. But before Lady and Phillip were off the porch, Knot called up all her strength and called out, “Mr. and Mrs. Waters!” They stepped back into the house. “I just want to know one thing.” And she held up one finger.
“Yes, ma’am,” Phillip said. “Anything.”
“Who
se baby is that y’all got there?” Knot asked.
Lady squared her shoulders. She looked as though she were going to give a speech to soldiers.
“I got a niece over in Moyock,” Lady answered, “and this here’s her baby.”
Phillip put his hand on Lady’s shoulder.
“See,” Phillip said, “Lady’s niece ain’t ready to raise a child just yet. She ain’t much more’n a child herself, ya know. So me and Lady decide we gon’ raise her baby.”
“We’ll love her just like she’s our own,” Lady reassured everyone. “We already do.”
Knot rested her head on the pillow and dozed off.
Later that evening, Knot was awakened by the smell of fresh-baked biscuits, and she heard something thick being mixed in a bowl with a wooden spoon. She lifted the sheet to peek at her stomach. It looked the same as it had earlier that day. But when Knot shifted herself around to sit upright on the bed, she could feel the difference she couldn’t see. The truth was, Knot missed the extra weight. She missed that seven or eight pounds that had gone out the door in Lady’s arms.
“Hey, in there,” Knot half shouted, as loud as her tired body would allow. Pep came into the room beating cake batter. She asked Knot how she was feeling. “Thirsty.”
“I’ll bring a glass of fresh water in just a minute.”
“I don’t want no more damn water. Look in my pantry and bring—’’
“It’s gone,” Pep said. She told Knot that the corn liquor had been knocked over. “On accident.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.” Knot wanted to be angry, but that required energy. Pep kept her eyes on the bowl she was holding, still beating the batter. Then Knot asked, “Where’s Otis Lee? I know he’s got a lil bit at y’all’s house. Please go get it, Pep.”
Knot begged, and Pep refused.
“You crazy?” Pep shot back. “I give you that and you sure to bleed to death right where you layin’.” Pep left the room and Knot slid back down in the bed. Just like a small child who had been sent from the dinner table for misbehaving, she began to cry.
Knot wasn’t sure if she was crying because Pep wouldn’t allow her to have her favorite thing, or because of the aches that were left over from all her body had gone through that day, or because she had sent a baby—her baby with those wide eyes—across the lane to stay forever.
In West Mills Page 4