“Yes. Name her whatever you like, but go on now and let me rest.”
I got the bassinette and carried it back downstairs in something like a dream. Me! Getting to name that little baby! I went right into the kitchen, where Buzzard had a whole lot of baby bottles lined up and ready to go into the boiling water and the baby cradled, sleeping, in the crook of her arm.
“Crystal says for me to name the baby!” I said. Buzzard stared at me for a long moment.
“She said you’re to name her?” she asked.
“That’s what she said.”
“Well then, I guess that’s what you’ll do.” Buzzard put the baby into the bassinette, covered her up with a soft blanket, and went back to working with the baby bottles. I thought for a long time, watching Buzzard and watching the baby, because getting her the perfectly right name was so important. Then I got an idea!
“What’s Miz Swan’s full name again?”
“What?” Buzzard asked.
“What’s Miz Swan’s name—other than Miz Swan, I mean.”
Buzzard hesitated before she said, “Mary Elizabeth . . . that’s her name.” And I was thinking of the beautiful MES initials on that fine stationery.
“I like it,” I said. And to be completely truthful, I was thinking about more than the way I had imagined the beautiful, young Miz Swan. I was also thinking that maybe, if we named the baby after her, she wouldn’t make us all leave, once she came home from France. If she ever came home from France.
I took a dinner tray up to Crystal at noontime, and Buzzard took one up for supper. But both those trays came back to the kitchen untouched. Buzzard didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was worried. So we spent our day taking care of Mary Elizabeth, who took to that bottled milk just fine. Molly and Little Ellis were good about staying indoors and taking their naps in Buzzard’s bed—because we didn’t want them to disturb Crystal. I read them five whole stories, because they had been so good.
That night, I put Molly and Little Ellis to sleep again on the floor of the little room, and Buzzard and I slept together in her big bed, with Mary Elizabeth’s bassinette right beside us, so we could hear her if she gave out with so much as a hiccup. We fed Mary Elizabeth two times during the night, and changed her diaper three times, and when I woke up the next morning, I suddenly remembered that it was Monday! I was supposed to go to school! But everything was so quiet, with Buzzard breathing deeply beside me, and Mary Elizabeth not making a single sound—like Molly and Little Ellis, who were obviously still asleep on the floor of the little room, snuggled down all safe and sound under their blankets. Why, I didn’t know what to do—how could I miss school? But how could I go to school? I stayed put and tried to think, and then I sort of settled back onto my pillow, listening to all that sweet quiet around me, and finally, I pulled the down-comforter up over my head and fell back asleep.
“You missed school!” Buzzard’s loud whisper and her hand shaking my shoulder. All around us, everything and everybody still quiet. “You missed school!” Buzzard repeated.
“I can miss one day,” I assured her, pulling the comforter off of my head, feeling the chilled air, and not even wanting to think about getting out from under that toasty-warm comforter.
“Well,” she finally growled. “I guess you can miss one day. I can write you a note. But tomorrow, you go back!”
“Yes’m,” I pulled the comforter over my head again and smiled where Buzzard couldn’t see me. Because I’d seen her write something before, and she always pulled her brows together and frowned heavily and stuck her pink tongue from between her lips. And to think that she would be writing to my teacher, I could imagine that she would have little clear-colored pearls of perspiration on her forehead as well!
Later—but I don’t know how much later, I heard talking coming down the hallway from the kitchen. I sat up and looked into the bassinette. It was empty. I threw back the comforter, went through the little room—being careful to step around Molly and Little Ellis, who were still asleep—and down the long hallway to the kitchen.
To my surprise, Crystal was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed for work and with a cup of hot tea in front of her. But her face was pasty white and her hair wasn’t done right. And when she tried to drink her tea, her hand was shaking so hard that the tea spilled over into the saucer. Buzzard was at the stove, putting a pan full of biscuits into the oven, and once again, with a sleeping Mary Elizabeth tucked securely into the crook of her arm.
“No ma’am!” Buzzard was fuming in whispers—probably so as not to wake up the baby. “You are not going to work today! Have you completely lost your mind?” Buzzard’s fury filled the whole kitchen with a different kind of warmth, and I backed away from the door and listened.
“You just had yourself a baby, for Heaven’s sake!” Buzzard went on. “You’re going to have you some good breakfast and then you’re going right back to bed!”
Crystal’s voice was thin and whiny-sounding: “But I got children depending on me! I gotta go to work!”
“You don’t gotta do nothing of the kind!” Buzzard whispered back viciously. “First thing you gotta do . . . at the very least . . . is take this little baby of yours into your arms!” I peeked through the doorway. Buzzard had bumped right up against Crystal and simply but gently rolled Mary Elizabeth right into Crystal’s arms. Mary Elizabeth frowned a little and made some unhappy-sounding grunts, but then she went right back to sleep. Crystal looked down at the sleeping face, like she couldn’t imagine what this was all about.
“Don’t you even want to know her name?” Buzzard fumed. And when Crystal didn’t answer, Buzzard whispered hoarsely, “It’s Mary Elizabeth. She’s Mary Elizabeth and she’s your very own child!” With that, Buzzard turned back to the stove. I watched Crystal sitting there holding the baby, looking at her—but Crystal’s face was like a blank blackboard in my classroom. A thing that was waiting for somebody to fill it up with words that had some meaning. Then a terrible silence in that kitchen. More terrible, even, than the one when I’d heard Crystal telling Buzzard there was a baby coming. Finally, Buzzard sat down at the table with Crystal, who was still staring at the baby as if she didn’t know how on earth a baby had come into this world.
“Crystal, listen to me and listen good,” Buzzard started out. “I came into some money . . . quite a lot of money. Now don’t ask me anything about it because I’m not gonna tell you. But it’s a gracious plenty for us all. And there’s more coming.”
“She is kind of pretty, isn’t she?” Crystal asked.
“She sure is,” Buzzard agreed. “I’m glad you’re taking a little bit of interest in her. You’ve had me worried.”
“She’s got my mama’s ears,” Crystal said.
“And looks like she’s got your hair,” Buzzard added. “Now did you hear me about the money? Did you hear me?”
“Let’s put her in the bassinette, Buzzard,” Crystal said. “I think you’re right about me going back to bed.”
“Eat you some good breakfast first,” Buzzard insisted, lifting Mary Elizabeth out of Crystal’s arms. “You can’t get your strength back unless you eat something.”
“Not right now,” Crystal said, and without another word, she got up and went back upstairs. I came into the kitchen to see if I could help.
“Dove, get the bassinette for me, and we’ll keep Mary Elizabeth right here in this good, warm kitchen with us.” But as Buzzard spoke, her eyes were on the staircase, and there was a deep frown between her eyes. When I went to get the bassinette, Molly and Little Ellis were getting awake, so I put out their clothes for them to get into while I took the bassinette back into the kitchen. Buzzard was on the phone.
“Yessir, that’ll be fine,” she was saying. “Around about four this afternoon. Yes. Thank you.”
“What’s happening around about four?” I asked.
“Miz Swan’s doctor is going to make a house call. Check on Crystal for us.”
“Is she really sick? Di
d having the baby make her sick?”
Just as I asked, Buzzard put Mary Elizabeth into the bassinette, and when I looked at the sweet little baby, I thought it would be a real shame if her coming into the world had made her mama sick. She was so beautiful.
“I don’t know,” Buzzard said. “But her not eating and not really paying much attention to the baby is something we need to see about.”
That afternoon, Miz Swan’s doctor made his house call. He was a very tall, slender man with white hair and a tiny little beard that wasn’t like most beards at all. This one sat right on the point of his chin and nowhere else. Buzzard took him upstairs, and they were gone for a long time. Mary Elizabeth woke up and I changed her diaper and warmed a bottle of milk for her. But I guess I wasn’t quick enough to suit her, because she really got in a few long, loud yelps before it was ready. Just as I was feeding her, Buzzard and the doctor came back downstairs.
“Seems as if this one is healthy,” the doctor said. “But as long as I’m here, let me check her over.” I started trying to pull the nipple out of her mouth, but it was hard to get it away from her. When I finally did, she went into a flurry of crying and jerking. The doctor smiled and took her out of my arms.
“Would you put a towel or blanket on the table for me?” he asked Buzzard. We had a dryer full of clean blankets that were still warm, and Buzzard folded one and put it on the table so the doctor could give Mary Elizabeth a quick examination. But she never hushed crying the whole time he gently felt her stomach and looked in her ears. He had a little light he shined into her open mouth so he could see her throat, and then he felt around her belly button.
“Baby’s fine,” he said in a voice loud enough to rise above her crying. “Better give her back that bottle.” He wrapped her in the blanket and handed her back to me.
“Make sure Crystal keeps taking those prenatal vitamins, and if her appetite doesn’t come back soon, call my office and make an appointment. Right now, I’d say it’s just a bad case of baby blues. But let me know if anything changes,” he said to Buzzard.
“What are baby blues?” I asked when Buzzard came back from seeing the doctor to the door.
“Some women just get real sad right after they’ve had a baby,” Buzzard said. “Don’t know why.”
“Will she get over it?”
“I think so.” But there was a worried sound in Buzzard’s voice that sent shivers down my spine.
“Well, let’s get us some supper ready,” Buzzard said. “And make me remember to write you a note for school tomorrow. You can ride the bus, since Crystal won’t be going in to work yet.”
“Can you manage everything without me?” I asked, and as soon as I heard the words, I knew that I wanted her to say “No. No, Dove, I can’t manage without you.”
“We’ll be okay,” she said instead.
So the next morning, I started walking down the long driveway and saw the school bus go by, going in the direction of Sharon’s house. When I reached the road, I waited on the opposite side from the mailbox for the bus to come back. And that school day felt like it would never end. Most of the time, all I could do was wonder what was happening at home. Was Mary Elizabeth taking her bottle? Were Molly and Little Ellis behaving themselves? Was Crystal going to be able to eat a little bite of her dinner?
That afternoon, I ran the whole length of the driveway and when I got in the door, I could smell something delicious cooking in the kitchen. Buzzard was at the stove, lifting a lid and looking into a boiling pot. Molly and Little Ellis were polishing silver at the kitchen table, and Mary Elizabeth was asleep in her bassinette. It was such a peaceful scene, and it gladdened my heart.
“What’re you cooking?” I asked, drawn to the stove by the delicious smell.
“My grandmama’s chicken and dumplings,” Buzzard said proudly. “I figured that if there was anything in this world that would chirk up Crystal’s appetite, this is it.”
Sure enough, at suppertime, Crystal came downstairs and ate with us. Well, she didn’t eat much, but she sat with us. When Mary Elizabeth started squeaking for her bottle, Crystal seemed not to even hear her. Buzzard watched Crystal closely, and I started to get up and tend to the baby. But Buzzard stopped me. “You sit down, Dove,” she said in a low voice. “That’s Crystal’s baby, and she ought to be the one to tend to her.” To Crystal she said, “Don’t you hear your baby fussing over there? Aren’t you going to tend to her?”
Crystal looked up a little surprised and heaved a deep sigh. “Yes,” she said.
But we had to help her after all, because she didn’t know how to put on a diaper, and she also didn’t know where we kept the pot for warming the bottle. And when we got her all set to feed the baby, she didn’t even know to hold the bottle at an angle. We showed her all these things, and at last, she was feeding the baby, who stared at her with great, round eyes. We were all quiet. Buzzard was nodding her head very slowly up and down. And I guess I’m the only one that saw a tear slide down Crystal’s face and drip off her chin.
Chapter Twenty
That night, I woke up hearing the wind howling outside and something that sounded like sand being thrown against the windows of Buzzard’s room. We were all still sleeping downstairs so Crystal could get plenty of rest. When I got out of bed and went toward the window, I could see that Buzzard wasn’t in the bed at all. I pulled back the curtains and saw that sleet and rain were coming down hard and fast, already coating the branches of trees outside. But where was Buzzard?
When I got out into the hallway, I could see that the kitchen light was on, and I followed the spill of yellow light until I came into the kitchen and saw Buzzard sitting in the rocking chair, rocking Mary Elizabeth.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, because there was something or other in the slope of Buzzard’s shoulders that I hadn’t seen before. Buzzard sighed and lifted her chin, but she didn’t say anything. I went around and stood in front of her, studying her face.
“Something is wrong,” I said. “And I think I know what it is—Miz Swan is coming home.”
“Miz Swan . . . ?” Buzzard seemed confused. “No. That’s not it.”
“What is it, then?” I urged her, because whatever was wrong, I had to start thinking how to get it right again. I had to!
“Dove, there’s no easy way to tell you this,” she started out, and I held my breath.
“Crystal’s gone.”
“Gone? She died?”
“No! She didn’t die. She left.”
“Left for where? And in this kind of weather?”
Buzzard pointed to the kitchen table, where there was a folded piece of paper with my name on it.
“What’s this?”
“Crystal was sitting here at the kitchen table, writing this letter to you, when Mary Elizabeth started fussing and I came in here to get her bottles.”
I got the note and unfolded it, but my hands were shaking so hard, I could hardly read it:
Dear Dove,
I’m so sorry. I tried. I really tried. I just can’t do this. Everybody will be better off if I go away. I tried to do right, but I got myself into more than I know how to handle. Please forgive me. I wish you all the best and I will love you forever.
—Love, Crystal
P.S. Please take good care of my baby.
Buzzard stood up and deposited a sleeping Mary Elizabeth into the bassinette. She came and sat down at the kitchen table, and I sat down across from her. We sat there for a long, long time. My head was whirling with all kinds of thoughts: How was I going to be able to take care of Molly and Little Ellis and Mary Elizabeth? Should we go home to Aunt Bett? Should we stay until Miz. Swan came back? Should I ask Buzzard to let us stay until we knew better that Molly wouldn’t get taken away from us? And when we went back home, how would I find the money to rent us a place to stay? We couldn’t ask Aunt Bett to take us in! What was going to become of us?
“I tried to stop her,” Buzzard mumbled. “I did everything a body could
do to try and stop her. I said that if she walked out on her own child, she didn’t even deserve to be called a human being! What a hurtful thing to say to somebody!”
“You had to try,” I offered, with most of my mind still wondering what on earth was going to happen to us.
Then we sat again for a long time, in the warm kitchen with all that sleet slapping against the windows and all the children safe and warm. How would I be able to keep them safe and warm?
Chapter Twenty-One
Buzzard’s voice came through all the fog in my head. “I’m sorry, Dove,” she finally said. “I hated for you to know this.”
But I was all caught up in imagining that Molly and Little Ellis and Mary Elizabeth and I were out in all that sleet and freezing rain, walking along a long, lonely road with nothing to eat or no place to go. I could really feel my feet going numb and hear Molly whimpering. And in that terrible imagining, I looked down at Mary Elizabeth and saw that she was blue and still. All of a sudden, something in me exploded.
“How could she?” I didn’t even know that’s what I was going to say. “How could she?” I repeated, and I started feeling like maybe I was a volcano and something terrible and red and evil was rumbling through me and getting ready to come flying out.
“It isn’t fair!” I fairly yelled. “It isn’t fair!”
“I know you’re hurt, and I don’t blame you one little bit,” Buzzard said. “But Molly and Little Ellis don’t know about this, and we don’t want to upset them.”
“Upset them?” I tried to lower my voice. “What about me? Somebody just tell me that! How could Crystal go off and leave Mary Elizabeth for me to raise? How could she do that to me?” I was very close to the most furious tears anybody could ever imagine.
“Maybe because she knows how strong you are,” Buzzard answered. And that completely surprised me.
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