The Sisterhood of Blackberry Corner

by ANDREA SMITH

  “So what’s all this about,” Tilde asked impatiently.

  “During that second meetin’,” Bonnie went on, “I said that…maybe folks need a place to bring they babies—you know, when times get tough.”

  “We remember, we remember!” Tilde said.

  “Well, when I said that,” Bonnie stuttered, “somebody at that meetin’ must’ve heard me, ’cause ever since that time…ever since that meetin’—”

  “Bonnie been gettin’ babies left at her do’,” Thora blurted.

  The ladies turned to Thora.

  “What’s that s’posed to mean?” Miss Idella asked.

  “Young gals that cain’t care fo’ they kids, or won’t care fo’ ’em,” Thora went on, “been leaving ’em fo’ Bonnie. Sometimes in the middle of the night.”

  Tilde stared at Thora as if she were speaking a foreign language. “Look, I ain’t got time for none of these damn games and puzzles,” she said. “My children is out there on the ball field and—”

  “Look at me,” Thora said, standing beside Bonnie, “and hear me good! Bonnie has been gettin’ babies dumped at her do’!”

  “What kinda babies?” Tilde asked.

  “Babies!” Thora yelled. “Like what you were a hundred years ago.”

  “Where they come from?” Miss Idella asked.

  “We don’t know,” Thora replied. “But the mamas sho’ly think that Bonnie will find a good home fo’ their chile.”

  “We believe,” Bonnie cut in, “that one gal heard what I said at that meeting and…well, things jes’ snowballed.”

  “You mean to tell me,” Tilde started, “that a mama jes’ dropped her chile here?”

  “These gals think Bonnie’s house is some kinda safe place,” Thora said. “She got four babies over the last three months.”

  “Fo’ babies?!!” Tilde said in shock. Delphine gasped.

  Miss Idella said, “Wait, wait…hold the phone a second! Fo’ gals done come to this house—”

  “Three gals,” Bonnie replied. “I got a set of twins.”

  “Mercy me,” Delphine said.

  “And where these babies at now?” asked Tilde.

  “Ruby-Pearl took one,” Thora said.

  “I knew it!” Tilde exclaimed. “I knew there wadn’t no damn brother! I tole y’all. Didn’t I tell y’all there wadn’t no brother!”

  Bonnie watched the women try to absorb this news.

  “Baby Wynn.” Delphine smiled. “If that don’t beat the band!”

  “A woman live up in Hencil took in the twins,” Thora said.

  Miss Idella’s mouth dropped open.

  “What woman in Hencil?” Delphine asked.

  “A friend of Ruby-Pearl’s,” Thora put in.

  “And how y’all know she can take care a these kids?”

  “’Cause we met her ourselves,” Thora said.

  “And y’all jes’ know a good mama from a bad mama, huh?” Tilde asked sarcastically.

  Thora glared at the round woman. “We know a good person from a bad one,” Thora replied. “Ruby-Pearl been friends with these people fo’ years. She say the woman and her husband is fine folk, and that was good enough fo’ us.”

  Tilde thrust her chin out.

  “What Pine say ’bout all this?” Miss Idella asked.

  “We ain’t called him,” Thora answered.

  “Why?” Tilde questioned.

  Bonnie shifted in her chair. “’Cause he’d take the kids to the county home,” she replied. “And…the po’ things wouldn’t have a chance.”

  “That is the truth,” Miss Idella said.

  “You say there was fo’ babies?” Tilde said.

  Bonnie laced her fingers together and set them in her lap. “That’s why we decided to come to you all,” she said. “I never, ever thought that I’da gotten fo’ babies. And ever’ last one of ’em is a blessin’ to behold. I just got a lil’ gal come to me a few days ago. She in the back with Ruby-Pearl and Wynn.”

  Delphine’s face lit up. “Can we see her?”

  “Jes’ hold yo’ horses,” Thora said. “Let Bonnie finish.”

  “The reason that I called this meetin’,” Bonnie continued, “is ’cause I done run outta places to take these babies. I run outta ideas and I couldn’t think of what else to do.”

  “Bless yo’ sweet heart,” Miss Idella said.

  “Why ain’t you and Naz took one of these kids?” Tilde asked.

  “That’s Bonnie’s personal business,” Thora said quickly. “Let’s jes’ stick to the subject at hand.”

  “Look, I ain’t in favor of no kids goin’ to the county home,” Tilde continued, “but we don’t know nuthin’ ’bout placin’ no children.”

  “Seem to me,” Miss Idella said, “that if a child need a home, we can find ’em one. That is what you askin’ us to do, right, Bonnie?”

  “Yes,” Bonnie answered.

  “It ain’t no mo’ complicated than that,” Thora said.

  Tilde cut her eyes at Thora. “As usual, you don’t know what the hell you talkin’ ’bout, Thora Dean,” she snapped. “It ain’t fo’ us to play God.”

  “I ’spect not a soul in this room would ever mistake you fo’ God,” Thora shot back.

  “Ah, shut yo’ damn mouth!”

  “You shut yo’ mouth, Tilde—”

  “Would you two stop it,” Delphine shouted. “These is impo’ant affairs. This here is life and death business.”

  “And life and death should be left in God’s hands,” Tilde insisted, “not Bonnie’s!”

  The ladies sat in silence. Tilde’s eyes had become slits. Bonnie knew they had questions. Questions she wasn’t sure she could answer. After a moment the ladies had settled down, but a thick tension still loomed. Miss Idella and Delphine looked to Bonnie for more answers. Laretha seemed as resigned as Tilde. Olive appeared to be on the fence.

  “What ’bout the mamas?” Laretha asked. “What y’all know ’bout them?”

  “Most times we never saw the mamas,” Bonnie answered. “They leave these kids and run.”

  “Like thieves in the night,” Delphine put in.

  “These been healthy babies?” Miss Idella asked.

  “Looked fine to us,” Thora answered.

  “You a doctor too, Thora Dean?” Tilde shot back.

  The room fell quiet once again. Bonnie could feel their apprehension.

  “You gi’ one chile to Ruby-Pearl,” Tilde said, “and we know she a decent woman…though a lil’ strange,” she added. “And Ruby-Pearl could testify that her friend is befittin’, I s’pose. But we don’t know who all these new mamas could be.”

  “But if we gi’ the babies to folk we know,” Delphine said, “and folks of folks we know, then we can be sho’ theys good people.”

  Delphine and Miss Idella nodded their heads in agreement.

  “Did you all ever consider,” Tilde put in, “that this jes’ might be against the law!”

  “‘Therefore love is the fulfilling of the law’,” Miss Idella said.

  “What if the mamas come back fo’ they kids?” Tilde asked. “And s’pose these kids get sick and need blood or—”

  “S’pose, s’pose, s’pose,” Miss Idella hammered. “For goodness sake, Tilde, even when kids are adopted from the county, these things can happen. Ain’t nobody can do a dern thing ’bout it, even when it’s legal!”

  “This ain’t right,” Laretha said. “Don’t even smell right.”

  “It’s a different situation,” Miss Idella said. “But the Lord don’t give us no mo’ than we can bear.”

  “I think it gives gals permission to abandon they kids,” Tilde suggested.

  “Tilde ain’t wrong!” Laretha spoke up. “When my second chile, Tommy, was born,” she went on, “I was nineteen, confused and tired as all git-out. I do declare,” she said, raising her hand over her head, “if some lovely person like Bonnie woulda come along—no questions asked—and take that chile off my hands…”

/>   “I hear you, girl,” Tilde said. “Young women these days’ll leave they chile with they mama, they aunties or they grand-mamas. Heck, I knew one little fast girl who got herself knocked up and left her chile fo’ her daddy to raise.”

  “If a gal gon’ keep her baby, she gon’ keep it,” Delphine argued. “And if she gon’ give it up, she gon’ give it up—whether it’s to the county, to her family or maybe, dear God, even to the creek!”

  Bonnie watched the women bicker among themselves. She suddenly felt the enormity of the situation. The women had raised issues, some of which she hadn’t even considered. “Maybe I should go to Pine,” Bonnie said. “I mean, Naz say the same thing.”

  “’Cause he a sensible man,” Tilde said, gathering her purse.

  “Don’t listen to her, Bonnie,” Thora said.

  “I know yo’ heart is in the right place, Bonnie,” Tilde said, “but you gon’ let Thora Dean talk you right on into the jailhouse.”

  “She ain’t gon’ talk me into the jailhouse,” Laretha said, following Tilde to the front door. Bonnie walked with them.

  “I sho’ly hope you take that baby to Pine,” Tilde said.

  Bonnie felt her head beginning to pound. “I’m sho’ I’ll do that,” she said. “But until then, I wanna ask that you and Laretha keep this quiet.”

  “My name is Bess and I’m outta this mess!” Tilda assured her.

  “You and me both,” Laretha added.

  “Thank you,” Bonnie said. “I jes’ need some time to sort this all out.”

  “I understand,” Tilde said. “This ain’t no small happenin’…but you smart and you’ll do the right thing.” Tilde gave Bonnie a quick hug, then she and Laretha left.

  Bonnie walked back into the living room, feeling as confused as she did before she invited the Harvest ladies over. She wondered if anything had been accomplished other than putting her business in the street. Miss Idella, Olive and Delphine were quiet. They seemed as perplexed about the situation as Bonnie.

  “I ’spect I will take this baby to Pine,” Bonnie said, falling into her chair. “I won’t mention the other three kids but…Tilde is right.”

  Miss Idella looked at Bonnie thoughtfully. “You know what I think, honey?” she asked.

  Bonnie kneaded her temples. “What?”

  “I think,” Miss Idella started, “that the onliest thing bigger than Tilde Monroe’s mouth is her fat ass.”

  “Miss Idella,” Bonnie gasped.

  Thora laughed so hard that she nearly fell from the chair.

  “Come on, now,” Miss Idella said, “ever’body know it’s true.”

  “She ain’t lyin’,” Olive laughed.

  The older woman’s expression grew serious. “All’s I’m sayin’, sweetie,” she went on, “is that the Lord picks His helpers. He picked you, and I’m so glad you picked me. And as long as we do things from our heart, cain’t much go wrong.”

  “I agree,” Delphine chimed in.

  “Me too,” Olive added.

  “Plus, Tilde jes’ plain jealous,” Miss Idella said. “Jealous ’cause these kids ain’t come to her. Jealous ’cause she ain’t the boss of things.”

  “And what about Laretha?” Bonnie asked.

  The women all groaned at once. “Lil’ lapdog!” Olive yelled out. “Godfrey got mo’ of a mind than she do. Sniff after Tilde like the woman got roses growin’ outta her butt.” The ladies laughed. “I say good riddance to both!”

  Thora flashed Bonnie a look that said everything would be fine.

  “There’s this woman I know,” Delphine said. “She live down in Tucker and would do anythin’ to get hold of one of these children.”

  “And my cousin Chester and his wife,” Miss Idella said excitedly, “they stay in Georgia and got two kids but they’d take a chile in need. They sho’ly take in every dog and cat that come they way.”

  Bonnie had never seen the women this engaged. And it had to do with more than decorating cupcakes and tacking bric-a-brac on the hems of skirts. And equal to their desire to help was their need to do something important. Something big.

  “We got to keep this thing quiet, ya’ll,” Thora said.

  “How we gon’ explain these babies when they come along?” Delphine asked.

  “If any more come along,” Bonnie said. “This might’ve jes’ been a fluke…all fo’ of ’em.”

  “A blessing,” Miss Idella said.

  “Seem to me,” Olive said, “that we got to keep the whole thing outta sight.”

  “Not even yo’ husbands can know,” Thora added.

  “Clebert don’t notice nuthin’ that don’t come on that damn TV,” Miss Idella said.

  “Same with Wally,” Olive agreed.

  “And if a chile come again…” Bonnie started.

  “When,” Miss Idella corrected.

  “When they come,” Bonnie said, “we gotta figure a way to move these kids.”

  “Quiet and fast,” Thora said.

  “We all live along the creek,” Delphine went on. “We can use that path. Most ever’where we go gon’ be ’cross the water.”

  “Sometimes we can take the long way down Highway 19, past Old Ginger Run, ’round where I live,” Miss Idella said.

  Bonnie suddenly recalled Daddy Wilbur’s stories about the footpath behind Blackberry Corner. Maybe it really was part of the Underground Railroad. And, if so, perhaps it could be used again. Bonnie watched the women plan. She hadn’t realized how very clever they were. In the past, their planning had to do with church socials, school projects, menus and seating at dinner parties. Bonnie’s own life had been consumed with similar purposes.

  “Y’all know I’m good with a needle and thread,” Olive said, “so we ain’t got to buy no baby clothes.”

  “And I could use my nursin’ skills,” Miss Idella put in. “Wadn’t never no registered nurse but I can sho’ly check temperatures and stuff.”

  Bonnie suddenly felt so hopeful. Like maybe this all could work. At the very least she felt like she wasn’t completely alone.

  “And what we gon’ call ourselves,” Miss Idella asked.

  “I’ll call you Miss Idella and you call me Thora,” Thora replied.

  “Y’all know what I mean,” she retorted. “Doin’ somethin’ this…impo’tant…”

  “And dangerous,” Olive put in. “We needs to have ourselves a name.”

  Bonnie flashed Thora a look that warned her not to laugh. She understood the risk these ladies were taking. Equally, she understood their need to have their own identity.

  “What’s wrong with keeping the Ladies of the Blessed Harvest?” Delphine asked.

  “That’s old,” Miss Idella shot back.

  “And tired!” Olive added.

  “And Tilde,” Thora said.

  Bonnie said, “How ’bout the Ladies of the—”

  “Naw…no Ladies of nuthin’!” Thora said. “Ever club in this damn town is the Ladies of this and the Ladies of that…Lord, them Ladies is wearing me out!”

  “The men calls themselves the Brethren of Good Faith,” Bonnie said. “Why don’t we jes’ be the Sistren or the Sisters?” Bonnie suddenly thought of her and Thora, working their way to the bottom of a bottle of blackberry wine.

  “I’m gon’ tell Naz how the Ladies of the Blackberry Wine been at it again,” Horace had laughed.

  “How ’bout the Sisters of…” Olive paused when she couldn’t think of anything to complete the name.

  “Sisterhood, sisterhood!” Miss Idella insisted.

  “The Sisterhood of Blackberry Corner,” Thora said.

  The women were quiet.

  Then Miss Idella said, “Well, that’s right impressive!”

  “Sound like we fixin’ to take care some business wit’ a name like that,” Delphine insisted.

  Bonnie could feel her body start to relax. She finally felt good about this. When Ruby-Pearl came out of the back room with the new baby in one arm and Wynn dangling from the other, it all
just seemed to make sense to the ladies. Two days later, they had brought diapers to Bonnie’s house, plus bottles, clothes and food that they had purchased from the change that jingled in the bottom of old purses and saved in flour tins for rainy days. The women’s excitement never dimmed. It thrust them into an undertaking as clandestine as it was blessed.

  PART III

  NINE

  Canaan Creek, 1986

  “Mrs. Wilder?” The bass in his voice seemed to make the phone receiver vibrate. “Bonnie Wilder?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Joseph Randall, ma’am. Augusta, my wife, wrote you a letter a few weeks back.”

  Bonnie sat in the seat beside the window. It had been a month since she had heard from Augusta. Bonnie had hoped that the girl had abandoned her search and moved on with her life.

  “Yes,” Bonnie said. “Has she…have the two of you had yo’ baby yet?”

  “She’s only in the second trimester,” he replied.

  “I see,” Bonnie said. “What can I do fo’ you, young man?”

  Joseph Randall sighed. In the static that crackled on the line, Bonnie could feel his frustration. She had heard it in Naz more than a few times: the frustration of trying to live with a determined woman.

  “When Gussie contacted you a few weeks back…”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t tell you the…courage it took for her to actually call you. And she’s as tenacious as most…” Joseph Randall sounded like a man who kept his head in books—big, brown, musty books that made no sense to most folks. “I adore my wife,” he went on, “but since I first met her, back in college, there’s always been a piece missing from her life. Not a large piece, and, to me, not an essential one,” he quickly added, “but as the years go on, it just grows bigger and bigger. And I know it has everything to do with her mother.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “She’s strong, Mrs. Wilder,” he said. “But just like anything else, not knowing is worse than finding out something she might not like.”

  Bonnie looked out of the window toward the woods. She noticed that the blackberry bushes were bare and the bramble filled with tiny thorns.

  “Did you hear me, Mrs. Wilder?” Joseph Randall asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Ma’am, if you know anything about her birth mother, please tell her. I’d love for Gussie to be a full and confident mother to our child…please.”