by Mary Monroe
“God’ll know. Satan’ll know. All Satan need is us to do some more backslidin so he can go to meddlin me and you again.”
Ruby let out her breath and looked up at the ceiling.
“I just want . . . I just want me a daughter,” she cried.
“Have mercy,” Othella whispered, watching Ruby’s tears slide down the sides of her face and onto her bosom.
“Let me name her and make out like she mine,” Ruby pleaded, looking in Othella’s eyes. Ruby held the baby against her and swayed from side to side. “Please, Othella.”
“Stop actin crazy, Ruby! Feed them kids of mine before you go back home. Hear me?”
“You goin to let me name this child. That clear?” Ruby said in a low voice, frightening Othella.
“I . . . I . . . don’t know. Um . . . Mama Ruby, please go in my kitchen and hunt around for somethin for them kids of mine to sop up. Some buttermilk and cornbread. Or some molasses and tea cakes. Grits’ll do.”
“Othella, I ain’t playin with you now . . . let me name this baby and make out like she was mine!”
“Lord, that’s just what you use to say when we was kids and you wanted my girl dolls. Just before you would maul my head with your fist . . . uh . . . uh . . . if it mean that much to you, you can name her, Ruby.”
Ruby’s eyes got wide and she smiled.
“I’m namin her for Miss Mo’reen,” Ruby said.
“I hope you happy. You write Miss Mo’reen a letter and tell her she got a dead baby named after her! Miss Mo’reen busy runnin her sportin house. You think she care about some dead baby named for her?”
“I don’t care if Miss Mo’reen care or not. I don’t care if nobody care. I can say I had me a baby girl I named Mo’reen,” Ruby said, dancing around the room, cradling the baby.
Othella shook her head and laughed.
“OK now. Time for you to stop actin the fool you is. Feed my kids and go home so I can get me some rest. Tell that boy Clyde to get you a shoe box out the chifforobe to bury that baby in.”
As soon as Ruby had set out food on the kitchen table and arranged the noisy children in an orderly fashion, she left Othella’s house.
It was dark outside. Lightning bugs led the way as Ruby returned to her shack through the bayou. She stopped and looked up at the glowing moon, the shoe box containing Maureen held against her bosom. She kissed the shoe box and thanked God for letting her get this close to having her own daughter.
Outside her house, Ruby spoke to Maureen.
“You is my very own little girl. I prayed to get you and I got you.”
Virgil appeared in the living room window and snatched it open.
“Mama Ruby, what you doin out there in the dark? What you mumblin about?” he asked.
Before Ruby could respond, Virgil came out on the porch holding a coal-oil lamp. Alice Mae followed behind him.
“What you got, Mama Ruby? Who you talkin to?” Virgil said, holding the lamp up high.
“Who me? Huh? Oh . . . I was talkin to these mangy coon dogs what’s blockin my way! Shoo! Shoo! Get out my front yard.” The two snoozing hounds ignored her.
Virgil looked at her suspiciously.
“You wasn’t talkin to no coon dogs a minute ago. . . .”
“I was talkin to myself,” Ruby lied, annoyed.
“Mama Ruby, Virgil went up side my head with a spoon cause I told you he let me play with your teeth,” Alice Mae complained. “I got a risin on my head already.”
“I’ll get him, Alice Mae,” Ruby said calmly, unlike her usual self. This made Virgil even more suspicious.
“Mama Ruby, what you got—aw damn!” he cursed. He held the lamp out toward Ruby and saw that she carried a shoe box. It meant only one thing. “Another dead baby I got to be up half the night diggin a grave for!”
6
“Is this here enough, Mama Ruby?” Virgil asked as he held out an armful of newspaper. They stood in Ruby’s cool, dimly lit kitchen over a table cluttered with plates and pots and pans. They had eaten the cabbage Virgil had finished cooking while Ruby was with Othella. Bread crumbs, empty plates, beer cans, and assorted bones lay scattered about the table.
“Yeah. Little as this child is, she won’t be needin that much paper to be wrapped up in,” Ruby replied. She took the paper from Virgil and looked at him, blinking her eyes rapidly. He looked up at her and bit his bottom lip.
“What’s the matter with you now? You standin here lookin at me like I’m somethin good to eat,” he murmured.
“I thought I heard somethin. Like somebody cryin,” Ruby replied in a whisper.
“Aw, you ain’t heard nothin.” Virgil waved his hand in her face. “And you hurry your slow self on here. You done had this dead baby layin around a whole hour.”
“Did you walk Alice Mae all the way home?”
“I walked her to the clearin,” Virgil answered.
“You was supposed to walk that child all the way home, boy! You want her to get snatched up by some maniac?”
“Mama Ruby, everybody say you the only maniac in Silo,” Virgil answered seriously, with his hands on his hips.
Ruby looked away and thought about what Virgil said. She turned to face him again and quickly slapped him alongside his face with the newspaper.
“Boy, I did hear somebody cryin. You go take a look-see out on that back porch and see if that girl Alice Mae is out there. That clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Virgil went to the kitchen door and opened it angrily, as Ruby stood looking at him. He leaned his head out and looked around quickly. Convinced that there was no one on the back porch, he slammed the door shut and returned to Ruby.
“Ain’t nobody out there. You must be hearin things, Mama Ruby.”
“I know doggone well I heard somethin. Moanin and groanin.”
Virgil gave Ruby a thoughtful look.
“It was probably your conscience,” he suggested. Ruby slapped his face with the newspaper again. He only laughed and made a face at her as she walked over to the kitchen counter where the baby lay.
Virgil followed behind Ruby, stepping on the back of her heels. She turned to swat him with the newspaper again, but he dropped to his knees and confused her by snatching the tail of her duster.
“Get up from that floor, boy! We got work to do.”
Virgil leaped up and stood next to Ruby as she bent over the counter.
“Where we goin to bury this one at, Mama Ruby?”
“Down in the bayou, I guess. Down there where we buried that ole meddlin government man what come snoopin around here last month axin questions about me and a stole income tax check. . . .”
“Oh. Mama Ruby, wonder how come nobody ever come lookin for that ole man.”
“Oh they come all right. Another peckerwood with a bad attitude. Axin me them same questions. Plus axin me about that one what come before him.”
“Hmmmm. I didn’t know another government man had come meddlin you.”
“Come tomorrow . . . I’ll show you where he’s buried. . . .” Ruby closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m out here in these swamps mindin my own business. Dedicatin my soul to the Lord. I don’t know why folks come out here to meddle me. I don’t mess with nobody . . . lest they mess with me. Nothin but the devil.” Ruby opened her eyes and looked at the baby.
“How come we ain’t puttin this baby where them other dead babies is buried? Othella’s other dead baby. Anna Simpson’s dead baby. All them other dead babies you done birthed.”
“Cause I want to get this took care of tonight. These dog days. We was to let this baby set out all night she liable to bust wide open. Remember that time me and Othella forgot we had that dead rabbit in the chicken coop last summer during dog days? You remember how it swole up from the heat and busted? I know you don’t want no busted baby to be cleanin up.” Ruby looked at Virgil and wiggled her nose.
“Good God no! Ain’t nothin worse than busted, rotted humans. Remember that time that man tried to rape Othel
la and we put him in the chicken coop?”
“Yeah. Just like that rabbit, we forgot he was in there. That sucker popped wide open. We couldn’t get the stink out of these woods for weeks. I thank God it was the season of flowers then. Lilacs, magnolias, dandelions, and lilies perfumin the air,” Ruby recalled.
“. . . Mama Ruby . . . you ever . . . I mean . . . well what I’m tryin to say is, you ever think about them folks we done chastized? I mean, sometime at night I be layin in the bed thinkin about it. I use to have dreams about dead folks comin to haunt us,” Virgil said.
Ruby shook her head and tapped her bare foot.
“Boy, I ain’t done nothin Jesus wouldn’t do.”
Virgil gasped and moved back.
“But Mama Ruby—”
“But what?” Ruby said, with her eyebrows arched.
“Nothin . . .”
“What you lookin at me so funny for now, boy?”
“I guess I don’t know all I need to know about Jesus, huh?”
“I guess you don’t. Let me tell you somethin, boy. I carry Jesus with me everywhere I go. I always have. On account of that was how I was raised. I know I ain’t perfect, wasn’t nobody perfect but Jesus, but I apply myself to the Bible to a T.”
“Remember that time we was comin back from Miami and that spic gave us a ride?”
“The one what got to my house and sucked up all my beer then had a notion to rape me?”
“Rape you? I didn’t know he’d a notion to rape you! Did he try to rape you, sho nuff, Mama Ruby?”
“No—but he wanted to. Why else would we carry him to the swamp? Me and you and Othella and Clyde.”
“Oh. I didn’t know no more than what you told me. You just made me and Clyde empty his pockets and dig a hole. Seem like we could have sent him on back to Miami. Him bein so drunk and all. I kind of liked that spic. He was all right by me. Give me a whole quarter. He give Clyde one too.” Virgil dropped his head and stared at the floor. “Sometime, Mama Ruby, I go to thinkin. What if—what’s wrong, sugar?” Virgil was interrupted by Ruby’s frantic sobs. “What you cryin for?”
Ruby removed a handkerchief from the pocket of her duster and began to cry harder, wiping her eyes and nose vigorously.
“I’ve done all I could to be a Christian mama. I never dreamed my own son would question my ways. Boy, I do what the Lord tells me to do. I ain’t never tetched nobody what ain’t had it comin. That spic, he was better off dead. Couldn’t speak no more English than a year-old baby. Now you tell me . . . what good was he to anybody?”
“Well, them other spics, they speak spic. I seen em do it. Plus the man said he had a woman and some kids somewhere. It don’t seem right him gettin hisself kilt like he done. What all he do anyway?”
“He was a rapist for one thing,” Ruby snapped. “What else reason did we need?”
“Oh . . . let’s change the subject, Mama Ruby. I get a chill when we talk about the folks we done chastized.”
Ruby returned her handkerchief to her pocket and cleared her throat.
“You know somethin, Mama Ruby, too bad we live so far from town. It would be nice to get this baby embalmed or somethin.” Virgil touched the baby.
“We ain’t got no time for all that red tape. You think we white folks or somethin? We fixin to bury this baby soon as I get her wrapped up. Poor little ole thing. Cutest little drink of water I ever seen.”
“Sho nuff is. I noticed that right off when you opened that shoe box.”
Ruby wrapped the baby as she hummed a spiritual. Once wrapped, the package resembled a small loaf of bread. As Ruby placed the package on the kitchen table, a colorful newspaper advertisement displaying kites caught Virgil’s eye.
Ruby waddled across the floor to her ice box, where she removed a can of beer. She stomped and ground a roach on the floor with so much wrath the loose planks rose and fell awkwardly back into place.
“Where is my can opener, Virgil?” she bellowed.
“I don’t know. You the only one what uses it; you ought to make it your business to know all the time.” Virgil spoke without looking up from the newspaper. “Mama Ruby, can I have a dime so I can get me one of these here kites?” He lifted the neatly wrapped package as Ruby searched for her can opener. To read the advertisement better, Virgil began to unwrap the newspaper that contained the infant.
“What in the world is you doin, boy?!” Ruby shouted. She rushed back across the floor and thumped Virgil’s head with her fingers.
“YOWWWW!” he screamed.
“What you call yourself doin to that baby?”
“I’m goin to wrap her back up! I was just tryin to see these kites better! Don’t you go up side my head no more, Mama Ruby! Shoot! I got so many risins on my head from you maulin it! You do it again, I’m goin to learn you a lesson you won’t forget!”
Ruby attacked the boy’s head with both hands this time.
“YOWWWWW!” he cried, trembling and waving his arms about. “I declare! I ain’t goin to sass you no more, Mama Ruby! Stop maulin my head!”
Ruby turned her attention from Virgil back to the baby. She quietly began rewrapping. Suddenly, she froze, her eyes bugged out, and her mouth fell open.
“What’s the matter, Mama Ruby?!”
“VIRGIL, THAT BABY MOVED JUST NOW! SHE AIN’T DEAD!”
7
“Somebody comin, Mama Ruby. Somebody comin up the walkway!”
“Shet up, Virgil!” Ruby hissed.
Outside, the wind was blowing hard. The branches of the pecan tree in front of Ruby’s house scraped against the side of the old building.
“Shhhhh. It’s just the wind, boy.” Ruby hoped it was just the wind. She sat in her living room in semidarkness, holding the pitiful infant she had wrapped in a freshly laundered flour sack. The only light in the room was provided by three large candles that sat on a crate in front of her.
“I swear to God, it sounded like somebody was comin this way, just itchin to catch us!” Virgil exclaimed, listening and looking around nervously.
“Wouldn’t nobody but a stranger be foolin around my house this time of night. Or a fool. But just in case, go put your ear to the door. Let’s be on the safe side. Go on now, listen at the door,” Ruby instructed.
“OK, Mama Ruby.” Virgil leaped from the sofa where he had been sprawling and went to the living room door. He placed his ear against it and held his breath.
“Hear anything?” Ruby asked, holding Maureen against her bosom.
“Naw.” Virgil moved cautiously away from the door and stood in front of Ruby.
“You think anybody suspicion anything?” he asked.
Ruby shrugged.
“Like what? We ain’t done nothin. Lately.”
“We ain’t opened the curtains none today. Folks been comin to the house and we ain’t answered the door. And I know folks know we in here. Othella was expectin me and Clyde to catch her some crabs to make crab soup this evenin. You know how she is about crab soup right after she done birthed a baby, Mama Ruby.”
“Yeah. I know how Othella is. . . .” Ruby let out her breath and gently lowered Maureen down across her lap.
“Run get me some more goat milk, boy.”
“You want some more meal too?”
“Yeah.”
Virgil left the room quietly and returned shortly holding a soup bowl containing goat’s milk with yellow cornmeal.
“Hand it here so I can feed her some more.” Ruby reached for the bowl, almost dropping it on the baby. “Boy, you make me drop this bowl on Mo’reen and kill her and the next hole we dig in the swamp’ll be for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Virgil watched as Ruby dipped the tail of her duster in the bowl, then squeezed it in the baby’s mouth. The baby sucked hungrily. But after a few drops, the child slipped back into oblivion.
“She dead again and I ain’t had nothin to do with it!” Virgil yelled, leaping about the floor. “Lay hands on her, Mama Ruby. You the one what raised
her from dead in the first place when you fetched her with your healin hands. Lay hands on Mo’reen again!”
“Shhhhh! Somebody might walk up on us. The law come down on us, they’ll be blamin everything but the last war on us!”
“But the baby dead again!”
Ruby reached up and slapped Virgil’s face, then quickly returned her attention to the baby.
“Mo’reen, please don’t up and die sho nuff on me. I need you. Please don’t up and die,” Ruby begged. She squeezed the baby’s cheeks and the baby started crying. “Now,” Ruby sighed triumphantly.
Someone walked up on the front porch. Loud footsteps, then heavy, frantic knocking made Virgil and Ruby gasp simultaneously. Ruby snatched the switchblade from her bosom. Popping out, the loud click that the blade made aroused the baby further and she cried louder. Virgil pulled a straight razor from his pants’ pocket and turned to look toward the door. Whoever it was outside continued knocking. The baby suddenly stopped crying.
“Want me to bring em to you, Mama Ruby?” Virgil said in a low, flat voice.
She ignored him for a moment; leaning forward, she listened toward the door.
“I wonder if it’s the law, sho nuff?”
“What if it is? What we goin to tell em about this baby and how come we got her?”
“We won’t tell em nothin about this baby. The law ain’t got nothin to do with us gettin us a baby. This ain’t nobody’s business but our own. Shoot. We can’t help it if we been blessed with a baby. I don’t question the Lord’s doins.” Ruby started to hum another spiritual.
The knocking ceased and the footsteps walked off the porch, back out into the darkness.
“You in here callin yourself hummin them ole hymns with folks still on the porch—you want to get us hung?”
“Boy, who you think bold enough in this part of the world’ll even make like he want to hang me?”
“Oh. I’m sho nuff sorry, Mama Ruby. I should have seen your glory by now. Othella say you got glory what outshine new money.”
Ruby smiled and lifted Maureen to her bosom again. Virgil looked at her with approval.
“When you goin to tell Othella bout her baby bein live and all, Mama Ruby?” His voice was firm and low. He put his blade back in his pocket.