We had some goings-on at our house early this morning! Mama and Savannah were in the yard washing clothes when Mary Lee Washington come stumbling by on her way home from “an all-night drunk,” Mama said. She must have thought she was already home because she stumbled up on our front porch and sat down on the steps.
Mama went around to the steps and hollered at her to get off our porch and go on home. “You ought to be shame a yourself, Mary Lee. Drunk first thing in the mornin’. An’ you a new mother. You ought to be home nursin’ your baby!” Mama told her. When Mama said that, Mary Lee began to cry. I never saw anybody cry like that before, even when somebody died. It was like something broke loose deep down inside her and she was crying for the whole wide world.
Mama went and sat down beside her on the steps. “Mary Lee, I’m sorry. You know you shouldn’t be out here like this and you just had a newborn baby,” Mama said, and I could tell by the way Mama said it, she was real sorry. Mama put her arm around Mary Lee’s shoulder. She asked Mary Lee who was at home with her baby and Mary Lee said the baby was with her mama and papa. “But why you not home with her?” Mama kept wanting to know.
“Miss Lena, you seen my baby?” Mary Lee asked.
“Girl, you know I never saw your baby,” Mama answered. But Mama had heard about the baby, because people were whispering about it, saying it was malformed. Some said it had two heads and four arms. Some said it didn’t have any arms at all. Mary Lee had named her Anna Rose.
“Miss Lena, my poor baby is malformed. She shaped like a fish where she ought to have legs. But she got the sweetest face you ever did see,” Mary Lee said. Then she began to cry again.
“Why, Miss Lena? Why? Why this happen to my baby?” Mary Lee asked.
Mama was quiet for a minute, then said, “These things just happen sometimes, Mary Lee. I’m so sorry it had to happen to you.”
Mary Lee looked up at Mama. “I know why it happened, Miss Lena. I ain’t been wantin’ to say it out loud, but I know why this happened to me. The Lord, He punishin’ me.”
“No, Mary Lee, don’t say that.” Mama tried to hush her up.
“It’s true,” said Mary Lee. “The Lord punishin’ me for all them bad things I done. You know, Miss Lena, I started drinkin’ liquor and smokin’ cigarettes when I was just twelve years old. Started foolin’ ’round with boys and men when I was thirteen. Sassed my mama and papa when they tried to chastise me. Now all this done come back on my little baby.”
I heard Mama suck in her breath. “What you think the Lord is, Mary Lee? A great big ol’ bully, go ’round pickin’ on little babies? No, honey—things just go wrong sometimes. The Good Book say, ‘Chance happeneth to them all.’ Everybody have bad things happen to them sometimes.”
Later, when Mama came in the house, I told her I knew about some medicine that would make Mary Lee feel better. “How you know ’bout Mary Lee?” Mama asked, and I had to tell her that I was standing inside the screen door while they were talking and heard what they said.
“My baby, always just happen to be standin’ somewhere listenin’ in on grown folks’ conversations?” Mama laughed.
“Now, what’s this medicine you talkin’ about?” Mama asked.
“I learned about it this summer when I was helping Missy Violet catch babies. It’s called goldenseal, and I know what it looks like in the woods and everything, and I could get some for her and make her some tea. Missy Violet says it’s good to calm the nerves, and she gives it to her skittish patients.”
So the next day me and Mama went into the woods looking for goldenseal. It made me think about the times I went into the woods with Missy Violet, and I was proud I was able to show Mama what I had learned. I was so glad I had paid attention when Missy Violet was teaching me about the roots and herbs. She always made a little game out of it by teaching me the nicknames of the different plants. It’s easier to remember the nicknames, like skullcap or coltsfoot or skunk cabbage or shepherd’s purse or devil’s bones.
Mama and I kept walking in the woods. “There it is, Mama!” I hollered when I saw the plant. “See, the leaves have five sides. Three big sides and two little sides.” I spread the leaves out so Mama could see. “Now, we take only what we need and leave a bunch so it will grow back next year,” I said, trying to sound like Missy Violet, and grabbed two stems and yanked them out of the ground. I was so proud I could show Mama how to “gather.”
“Look!” I hollered when the fat yellow root popped out of the ground.
“It looks almost like a carrot,” Mama said.
“Only it’s golden, not orange,” I pointed out.
“Missy Violet would be so proud of you,” Mama said as she watched me wrap the goldenseal up in a kitchen towel we had brought. But when we got home and Mama was telling everybody how good I was at gathering roots and herbs, I remembered something that made me feel as dumb as a rock.
“Mama!” I whispered.
“What’s the matter?” Mama asked.
“I forgot something real important.”
“What?”
“The roots have to be dried and ground up.”
“All right,” Mama said.
“But it takes weeks for them dry,” I said, “and Mary Lee needs the medicine right away.”
“Oh, that is a fly in the buttermilk,” Mama said. “But you still know your beans, honey. You remembered that the roots have to be dried. That’s very good.”
“But what about Mary Lee?” I asked.
“Well, she’ll just have to wait. You meant well, baby.”
“I know,” I said. “I can go over to Missy Violet’s and go in her glass cabinet and get some goldenseal that’s already made into tea and take it to Mary Lee.”
“Now, you can’t go in Missy Violet’s house while she’s away,” Mama said.
“But Savannah or one of the boys goes down there every day to feed Duke and the cow.”
“I don’t care. You can’t go trespassin’ inside someone’s house while she’s away. Now, that’s that!” Mama pressed her lips together tight like the clasp on a change purse, and I knew she meant what she said.
That afternoon Charles asked if he could borrow one of my lead pencils so he could do his homework, and that gave me an idea. “Maybe I could borrow some goldenseal tea from one of Missy Violet’s nervous patients.” But who? Miss Roula? No, Miss Roula took boneset tonic for the tired blood. Miss Sarah Bright? No, Miss Bright took a little blackberry wine. Then it came to me like a bright ray of sunshine: Miss Petty! Miss Petty was a little sliver of a lady who played the piano at church. A spinster lady who fluttered like a hummingbird every time someone spoke to her. Missy Violet always took her skullcap and pennyroyal and goldenseal for her nerves. Maybe she still had some.
But Miss Petty kept to herself and didn’t like children. Especially since the time Missy Violet sent me over to her house with some tea and Charles followed me over there and acted the fool. He got up under Miss Petty’s window and made his voice go up real high and hollered, “Miz Pity, Miz Pity Pity!”
Miss Petty came to the window and looked out. When she saw Charles, her eyes got as big as saucers and she started to scream. Miss Petty is scared to death of men and boys. She didn’t even see me. I tried to tell her it was me with her tea, but Charles in his devilment kept squallin’, “Miz Pity, Miz Pity!” and the poor lady got so nervous and confused, she ran straight through the house and out the back door! So Missy Violet had to deliver the tea herself. Now when Miss Petty sees me or Charles at church, she starts to shake all over.
I don’t know how to ask Miss Petty for her tea now. How am I going to help poor Mary Lee?
I want to write and tell Missy Violet all about Mary Lee, but Mama would kill me. She’d say I was getting in grown folks’ business. I know Mama will tell Missy Violet all about it when she comes home.
Mama and Miss Petty
I told Arma Jean about Mary Lee. She said she would go with me to see Miss Petty. We didn’t let Charles k
now about our plan. But Mama found out about it and told Arma Jean and me, “Leave that poor soul alone!” She said the safe thing to do would be to let her ask Miss Petty. But will she listen to Mama?
Mama approached Miss Petty at church one Sunday. Arma Jean and I were watching as Mama walked up to the piano. Miss Petty flinched when she heard Mama behind her. “Good mornin’, Merlene. How you this fine Sunday mornin’?” Mama said in a real easy voice, and Miss Petty looked up at Mama over the top of her spectacles.
“Merlene? She don’t look like a Merlene,” Arma Jean whispered.
“I think that’s a nice name,” I whispered back to Arma Jean.
“Yeah, but Merlene? She look more like a Lula or an Oola or somethin’,” Arma Jean said a little loud, and Mama turned around and gave us a hard look.
“How do!” Miss Petty answered, and snatched a handkerchief out of her pocketbook and started polishing the piano keys.
“Merlene,” Mama went on, “I’m startin’ a quilt and I’d like for somebody to work on it with me. I thought about you because I hear you do some of the finest stitchin’ in town. Would you be good enough to work on it with me? I’m startin’ it tomorrow afternoon.”
Miss Petty kept her head down, but when she looked up her eyes had water in them and said, “I’d be much obliged, Lena.”
Miss Petty and Mama sewed up a storm that Monday afternoon, and by the time I got home from school, Mama had the goldenseal tea for Mary Lee. Good work, Mama!
Not only that, but Mama said Miss Petty was one of the best sewers she’s ever seen. “Stitches straight as arrows just like a sewin’ machine. Sixteen stitches to the inch!” Mama said. And coming from Mama that’s a good word, because Mama is one of the best seamstresses in the county. Mama said when she asked Miss Petty about the tea, she said she’d be “more than happy to share with Mary Lee.”
Mama said Charles came home from school while Miss Petty was still at the house. Mama and I both believe he meant to get home early so he could frighten Miss Petty. That’s why he didn’t wait to walk home from school with the rest of us. Mama said Charles came in with an impish look on his face. She said poor Miss Petty’s hands began to shake as soon as Charles walked through the door.
Mama fixed Charles good, though. She said she did her finger for Charles to come over to her and she whispered in his ear, “If you upset Miss Petty, I’ll break you down into five dollars’ worth of change!” And Charles skulked on out of the room with a long face. Good for Mama! I think Mama will be a nice friend for Miss Petty.
Mama and I went by to see Mary Lee every day for a week, and sure enough, she began to feel better after drinking the tea. I was real proud of myself. This was the second time I had looked after somebody while Missy Violet was away. Maybe someday I could make a good midwife.
Mama Gets a Letter from Missy Violet
November 7, 1929
Dear Lena,
I hope this letter finds you all in the Lord’s care. Brother is improving every day and we are grateful for God’s mercy. How is James’s foot? Be sure to give him my regards and tell him I appreciate him and the children looking after Duke and the cow for me. If Brother keeps improving, I hope to be home by New Year’s.
How is that sweet baby Cleo? I’m working on a sweater dress for her while I’m here in Florida. Brother usually goes to bed early and I sit and knit while he sleeps.
How is Savannah? Is she keeping company yet? My heart goes out to you and James. I know you have your hands full with so many children in the flower of their youth. I keep you in my prayers always.
Lena, I want you to do something for me. Please go visit little Maggie Dockery and see if she is doing her hand calisthenics. Take Viney with you—she will know what to do. And if you can, please go by and see little Bennie Sattifield and his mother. Let me know how they are coming along.
I will be much obliged if you will see to this for me. And if you happen to see Miss Roula, give her a hug for me. Give everybody at church my regards and give Viney and Charles a hug and a kiss. They are my two sugar lumps. May God bless you and yours.
In Christian love,
Viola McCrae
November 16, 1929
Dear Missy Violet,
So good to hear from you. Things are not the same with you away. James and the children are fine. His foot finally got better. For a while I thought my husband was going to be crippled for life. Thank the Lord you sent word for him to stay off it and he listened. And for Viney doing all the things you had taught her.
Don’t worry, I will do what you asked. Viney and I will go see little Maggie Dockery and little Bennie Sattifield. I saw little Bennie in town with Miss Mintzy, that old lady who takes care of him while his mother and father go to work. When anybody talks to her she holds on to that little sack she wears tied around her neck. It’s just some grass and twigs tied up in some muslin, but she think its got some kind of magic in it.
You should see Bennie. He is a great big strong baby. Twice as big as Cleo. I don’t know how Miss Mintzy handles him—she’s all bent over and got the rheumatis in her hands. I’m surprised Bennie hasn’t snatched that amulet from around her neck.
Yes, ma’am, Savannah is keeping company. She is seeing Solomon Trueheart. You know, that part-Indian boy. They will be graduating in May. James don’t like it, though—he favors Lorendo Smith. He and Lorendo fixed it so Savannah would catch Solomon with that fast gal, Windrella Rodgers. Savannah nearly died when she saw the two of them together—I had to step in and tell her about James and Lorendo’s little trick. James don’t know I told. He doesn’t even know I know. Now he just thinks it’s the Lord’s will that Savannah and Solomon got together.
The boys are fine, except for Claude Thomas. You know he’s my peculiar child. I have not told anybody about this, but I may have to send him away. He says he’s going to kill one of the Klan. Lord have mercy! I think what set him off was what happened to Charles and Viney a little while ago when they went fishing up on the river.
Even after the children told him about the little white boy who saved them, he still felt the same way. He says he’s going to get a shotgun and kill the first white person he sees, and you know, Missy Violet, he’s always going off by himself. Half the time I don’t know where he is. I’m so worried about him.
One day, Antonio Rose said to me, “Mama, you know, I been thinkin’. Claude Thomas ain’t doin nothin’ down in the woods but drawin’ pictures of animals and birds and things.” And, Missy Violet, he can draw a picture of anything. The boy really is gifted in that way.
But he doesn’t have any friends—not one. Everybody should have at least one friend. Antonio Rose says the pictures are his friends. You know Antonio Rose, always figuring things out. And I do declare, Missy Violet, what Antonio Rose said did set my mind at ease for a while.
Pray for us. Pray for our boy to have patience to wait on the Lord to make things right for the colored people. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems, I know you have your own worries. But the Bible says, “The fervent prayer of the righteous availeth much.”
Faithfully yours,
Lena Windbush
Little Bennie and Little Maggie
November 19, 1929
Dear Missy Violet,
I am writing this letter for Mama. She wanted to write it herself, but I begged her to let me write it for her so I could get to use my new green writing paper I won in the essay contest. She wants you to know that the last time Papa and the boys went down to your house to lay down straw for the cow and to feed the dog, Mama and I went by Miss Roula’s house. But her daughter had already closed up the house and taken Miss Roula up north. So we went to see little Bennie Sattifield and his mama.
Little Bennie is special because he is the first baby I helped bring into the world. He is all plump and rosy now—not like the first time I saw him. Back then he was all wrinkly and red and squalling his head off! Now he laughs and coos and tries to catch things in the air with
his little dimpled hands. I asked Missus Sattifield if I could hold him and she sat him on my lap. He was so heavy. I think he is heavier than my baby sister, Cleo, though Cleo is older.
It felt good holding little Bennie, and that big wide grin that hides inside of me came out and spread across my face. Little Bennie kept looking up at me with his pretty round eyes. I wondered if he remembered me. I wondered if he was grateful that I had held him after he was born. Then he hauled off and clocked me in the nose! I could taste blood in my mouth. Missus Sattifield rushed over and took little Bennie, and Mama gave me a handkerchief to wipe my nose with. It felt like my two front teeth were loose.
Miss Sattifield said, “I’m so sorry, child. He a little slaphappy.” Then she said to the baby, “Little Bennie, that wasn’t nice. Why you hit Viney? She’s your friend.” But little Bennie just said, “Gugh!”
By the time we got to Missus Dockery’s house the bleeding had stopped and my two front teeth were not loose. Little Maggie was in the yard playing when we walked up. When she saw us she ran into the house. Her mama came through the screen door and invited us to sit down on the porch. Mama and Missus Dockery chitchatted for a while. Then Mama told Missus Dockery about your letter, that you were concerned about Maggie’s hands.
Letters to Missy Violet Page 6