Descendants of Hagar

by Nik Nicholson

Soon as I catch the baby, I’m a little scared to slap ’im on the tail cause he so small. Grit bigger than she was with the other two, and them two was much bigger than this one. We been saying this one gone be ‘a biggest baby yet.

  Some folks say, this one gone be a big boy, cause she already got two girls. It is a boy, but he tiny, just a lil bigger than my hand. I already know he gone be called Granger, Jr. after his daddy.

  I hold ’im while tying two ties on the cord. I feel warm tears fall from my eyes as I wait, for the heart beat in the cord closest to ’im to stop, so I can cut him away from his mama. I hold him close, keep ’im warm. Seem like the whole world moving round me, and I see how God work. I see how life and death so close.

  Most dangerous thing a woman can do round here is work for a white man ain got no wife, and having a baby. Be a blessing when mama and baby both come out alright. Be another blessing when a baby makes it to five round here. There are so many things we pray pleading for, because so many people are lost to things, but this moment God be showing out.

  Finally, the cord closest die and I ask my new nephew, “Are you ready to be on your own in the world,” as I happily cut the cord. Then I wait for ’im to take a breath, but he silent. He so small and still in my hands, it make me nervous to do what I’m spose to if he don’t breathe. Still, I give ’im a good lick and he screams.

  “He got a big spirit, ain he.” Mama sigh relieved, and it seem like the whole room breathe easier and smile at his crying.

  The women smile approving, congratulating Grit, “You finally done gave Granger a boy.”

  Their words make me a little sad. We don’t marvel at just bringing life into the world. It ain’t enough to survive bringing a healthy baby in the world. You got to give yo husband a boy.

  I think about what we telling ourselves bout being women. I’m thinking about how we teach our girls bout they value. A man couldn’t do this. If it what’n for daughters being born wouldn’t be no mothers to have sons.

  Once I’m done, Mama take ’im, wash ’im and put ’im on Grit, skin to skin. While Grit holding him, me and Ella push on ‘a stomach to help get the sack out. The pressing help the sack get loose from ‘a stomach walls. It’s a lot in ‘a when we stop and leave the cord hanging.

  The baby so small and Grit stomach still so big for the baby to be done come. We all notice but don’t say nothing. I don’t cut the cord; I’m waiting til she get some more labor pains and give birth to the sack. I tie the cord close as I can to ‘a opening, so I know when some of it coming out. Some mothers be so caught up in they new baby, they barely notice giving birth to the sack.

  While waiting, we clean up the baby bath, as much as we can. We set out a new pad and wash basin to put the sack in, to be examined. If even a lil bit be left inside, it’ll make the new mama sick. It could kill ‘a. We clean Grit up some, and put ‘a on some clean pads, but we still waiting. I’m glad it’s almost over and won’t be long til it is.

  ***

  I hear the roosters start to crow. I smell breakfast. I hear laughter and loud talking, and heavy footsteps down stairs. Then I realize I done fell asleep in the sitting chair, and that sack still ain’t came.

  “Grit,” I call, and startle her out of sleep. “You hurting?”

  “Nah, I ain’t.” She sit up, and the baby lay peaceful on ‘a chest.

  “He did the crawl yet?” Mozelle come in.

  “Nah, he ain’t.” Grit ease back down. “But I’m ready to git up and do something. I feels good.”

  “She ain gave birth to the sack yet, has she?” Mama come in behind Mozelle with hot water.

  I shake my head, “No.” We all a lil concerned but we act like it ain’t nothing, even though too much time done passed. I get up, wash my hands, then check Grit. Grit hole done closed, and the cord still alive. I can feel the heart beating in the end before the knot. Still, I move like it ain’t nothing, and everything is as it should be.

  My heart feel like someone got they hand wrapped round it, squeezing. Mama watch close, but she don’t say nothing. I don’t know if she know something wrong, and just don’t want to upset Grit.

  I clean Grit up again, cause on top of the heart beating in the cord, she bleeding bad. Since the cord ain’t died, every heart beat pushing a lil blood out. I am scared.

  I tie another cord in the same place, tight as I can this time. I notice the first one ain moved. Then I tie another two more on there, cause what’s already on there slowing the blood but not completely stopping it.

  “That’s why you shoulda went and got that midwife,” Mama fuss.

  “She was already delivering another baby,” Ella remind Mama, who I can feel is looking for some way to blame this on me.

  I blame myself, even though I don’t know what I coulda done different. Seem like a normal birth, ain have no problems, ‘cept the false start and even that’s kinda normal. I feel anchored there, til Ella touch me and say, “Go eat something.”

  I smile at Grit, but feel sadness creeping up on me. When I turn to walk out, I see where somebody done brought Grit a tray upstairs with a lil of everything.

  When I get down stairs, the house full of women. I put on some water for cleaning. Then I wash my hands, eat a few bites of food, speak to cousins and auntees. I wonder where they got all this meat from, cause I don’t never have this much meat in my smoke house.

  I step out on the back porch and see the home garden been weeded. I can tell by looking in the coup the chickens been fed. I’m bout to walk around and do the other morning chores, when I hear Jenny call down to us, “He crawling! He crawling!”

  We all go running up to watch the new baby crawl up Grit body, and find ‘a nipple. Cain’t just put yo nipple in a new baby’s mouth, gotta let the baby’s instincts kick in and let ’em find they way to they mama to nurse. Otherwise feeding be painful to the mama, and it be hard to ever get the baby to nurse. Least that’s what people say.

  When he latch on to Grit’s breast and start nursing, we all laugh and slap each others’ arms. Then we know he gone be alright even though he ain but this big.

  “Alright! Alright! I’m here now!” the midwife, Mrs. Jessamine, shout, coming in smiling and cheerful. The sun done start spilling in the room, and here come Ella with more water. The midwife a heavy set older woman, with grandchildren of ‘a own. Her hair pulled back and she look tired. I know she done had a long night, and probly ain’t been to sleep.

  “She ain’t had the cord yet,” Ella tell ‘a.

  “How longit’s been since she had the baby?” Mrs. Jessamine ask over ‘a shoulder.

  “Been a long while,” Mama answer.

  “I need some space to look afta ‘a,” Mrs. Jessamine command, turning round and looking at everybody in the room.

  Women start to leave, and here come Mozelle with more towels. The midwife clean ‘a hands without ever looking at ’em. She looking at Grit, frowning. “Alright honey,” she say, shaking off ‘a hands and walking over to the bed.

  Easing down on the bed, Mrs. Jessamine moan, tired and then pull the covers back. “Umph,” she say, leaning one way, and then another, moving ‘a hands around Grit.

  I take slow long breaths.

  “Why it’s so many ties on here, and all this blood?” She examining my work and I’m feeling like I need to explain. I’m afraid Iain do something right.

  Clearing my throat, I step up closer. “I put another one, ma’am. She was bleeding something awful. The heart was still beating when I checked.”

  “I see dat,” she say, frowning at the space tween Grits legs. Everybody else done went back downstairs. It’s just me, Mama and Ella in the room. “The hole done closed tight like she done, and the cord ain’t die or nothing.” The midwife announce shaking ‘a head worried.

  Grit starts to cry, cupping ‘a baby head and kissing him like she protecting him from hearing the news.

  Ella grab my hand as she walk closer to the bed. Ella swallow hard, and I feel like stone.
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  “I don’t know how we gone git it out. We cain’t pull it, don’t wont the sack to tare. And I’m gone haveta put another tie on here, cause she bleeding through these ones on here,” Mrs. Jessamine say, more to ‘aself than to us.

  “Say it plain,” Mama sit down on the bed and look at Grit with ‘a.

  “Well, we see what happen. I done heard they cut women open in the hospital when this happen.”

  Grit cry out. Then say, “I rather die than be cut open!”

  “Don’t speak death over yo life, girl. Need to be praying for help and time. Ain’t no hospital seeing niggas for miles.”

  Ella legs fail ‘a and I catch ‘a, then pull ‘a up next to me. Hold ‘a close til she solid. We look at Grit, sorry, silent, sad.

  “She cain’t have this up in ‘a.” Mama reach like she might snatch the cord. Mrs. Jessamine close Grit’s legs and guard it, looking at Mama like she crazy.

  “You cain’t cut it no moe, til the heart stop beating in it. It ain even stop bleeding. Iain never seen this much blood this long after the baby come. Then she ain even got a piece of the sack, she got the whole thang in ‘nere. All we can do is wait. I cain’t even git my hand in there.”

  “I wish you hadn’t left,” Mama say just above a whisper, staring at Grit like it’s the last time she gone see ‘a, tears streaming down ‘a face.

  Chapter Fifteen

  UNDER ONE ROOF

  Ella ain’t asleep. Even though it’s been years since all us was sleeping under the same roof, and even longer since me and Ella shared a bed, I still know her. Funny how so much change, and then so much stay the same. The rhythm of ‘a breathing the same as when we was kids. I still know the difference between ‘a being quiet, and being sound asleep. Maybe if she went to sleep, I woulda got tired of listening to ‘a deep breathing and fell off myself.

  That’s the way it always was when we was kids, I’d fall asleep to ‘a breathing. Wake up when the bed got cold, after she’d gone to help Mama with morning chores. If she stayed til the roosters’ crowed, I wouldn’t even wake up for them.

  Been years since Ella got married, left me behind, to save myself from Mama. Soon as she left things changed. I don’t know how long she had been gone when she pulled me aside at church one Sunday, smiling and hopeful, asking how was everything at the house. What she was really asking was, how I was getting along with Mama since she left.

  What’n nothing to say to ‘a. What could she do then, living with ‘a husband and expecting they first child? I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ella, how Mama ain speak to me less she had something bad to say.

  So I answered, “Same ol same,” smiling. While the place under both my arms hurt something awful whenever I laughed, or even breathed too deep. I didn’t scream or cry when Ella hugged me tight, even though it took all of me to keep quiet, and force a smile. I didn’t tell ‘a how much I missed ‘a, or how lonely I was now that she was gone.

  Ella what’n like a lot of other women. Ella made sure she married who she wanted to. She told any man thinking bout coming for ‘a hand and anybody else listening, she was waiting for Prentice to make them a way. Mama worried she’d never marry. Some folks still say she married old, but Ella married ‘a sweetheart. So she was really happy, and pregnant.

  Ella was a worrier, and Iain wont to upset ‘a. Plus I was ashamed. I felt like I had to be doing something wrong or something was wrong with me. I didn’t want the only person that loved me to think I was bad, too. Specially since I knew, soon as Grit got old enough to know the difference between right and wrong she probly be with Mama and Jenny nem, against me.

  So Iain tell Ella, Mama told Daddy I was getting too old to be trailing him all over town. Said I was becoming a woman, and she needed to teach me how to be a wife. Guess that’s why Mama had me watching Grit all the time. Iain mind Grit. I just couldn’t never do nothing right according to Mama.

  When Ella was around, she would show me how Mama liked things. Ella would take the blame for things, watch me, and would be patient while I learned.

  Mama never taught me nothing, but held me accountable for knowing. That’s how Jenny came to be the smart one, while I was pegged the stupid one always working Mama’s nerves.

  There was a time, when Iain go two days without Mama slapping me, and not a week without her or Daddy beating me for something. It was like she hated looking at me. She’d frown as she watched me walk in and out of a rooms, like I what’n even hers. Wouldn’t comb my hair, or keep my clothes up.

  Whenever I got a good licking, Mama would keep me in the house. She be telling people, I think I’m a boy and always getting myself hurt some kinda way. She told people I was wild, whenever they asked how come I was always bruised, or what happened to my lip and eye.

  Mama made so many excuses bout my bruises, even Daddy believed. Daddy started to feel like it was his fault I was always getting myself hurt. He felt so guilty bout my wild-boy ways, soon as he’d get home he’d be on me.

  Then Mama ain beat me with no belt or switch like she did everybody else, even the boys. When she whup me, she used ‘a hands, she used ‘a fists. Sometimes I would walk around the house, just waiting for it.

  No matter what I did, how I did, I was still wrong. If I tried to explain, it be like I’m talking back. My words be used against me, turned around, and I be thinking I’m crazy. Cause I be done thought about what I’m saying a hundred times fore I say it. Especially after my words been turned around so many times.

  So, one day, after too many “stupid cows, slow mules, or worthless cusses,” I just stopped, just stopped trying to please Mama. Started doing the best I could, whatever I know how and just waited. Didn’t matter no how, one way or the other, I was wrong.

  I would never say anything. Wouldn’t never sass Mama, and then that behavior give them reason to say I’m bad, wild. Start Daddy to do more than yell at me all night, he start beating me, too.

  Fore Ella left, Mama was on me so much he didn’t never bother me much. Plus, I be with him all day, so whatever trouble everybody else done found, Iain in. After Ella left, and I stopped trying to please Mama, it be like I had gone crazy or something. Mama have a bad day, or for any reason she be on me. Then for some reason, Jenny be always telling ‘a things, and pointing out my mistakes.

  Miemay ain go to church, so I don’t know how long it was fore she seen me. When she finally did, I musta look something awful, cause it took ‘a breath away. Made ‘a eyes so thick with tears, she grabbed the back of Mama’s kitchen chair, and buried ‘a head in the bend of ‘a arm to hide ‘a face from me.

  It was the first time, I’d seen ‘a cry since a hanging years before, she say, “Lawd Jesus!” Every time she look at me, her voice crack, and she cry like a child, “Jesus!” Then she say, “Gitcho thangs.” Then she walked round our house shouting at Mama saying, “You oughta be shame!” Then to me, “Gitcho thangs!” No one protested, and it seemed like Miemay was looking for a fight but Mama watched silently as Jenny helped me pack.

  Since I couldn’t hardly lift my arms and my sides was hurting, Miemay took me to see a real doctor. That’s when we found out my ribs was cracked. After that, I what’n at home much no more. It be like I’m staying with Miemay most times.

  Miemay be asking where I’m at all the time when I start spending the night at ‘a house. She say, “Come sit out here on dis poche wit me.”

  I had got so use to hiding, and being invisible at home, I be afraid of the sun it seem.

  But Miemay be telling me how smart I am, and letting me help ‘a with things grown women do. And Miemay ain never hit me. She always talk to me, ask me why I did a thing, and tell me why I shouldn’t. She expected me to know things, and treated me like I had already been here before. Cause she expected me, I arrived.

  Then one day Miemay say, “You relly tryin ta keep up, ainchu?”

  Another day she say smiling, “Guess ya ain’t dat wild and crazy afta all.” Then she explained how people always call c
razy what they don’t understand, and wild what they cain’t control. I think about how they called ‘a crazy, but she was one of the most rational folks I knew. Didn’t mince ‘a words, but she’d give you the shirt off ‘a back.

  Miemay. When I think about Miemay, coming back to get Grit, I know Grit be okay. I know death ain the worse thing, I already been there. Thinking bout Miemay, I go from being overwhelmed with sadness, to worrying if Miemay can get Grit out of ‘a body fore the pain start, and ‘a body start to shut down.

  Some other part of me, I’m ashamed to say, is content having all my sisters at my house under one roof, and Ella laying next to me. I wont to tell Ella bout Miemay, cause I know she up, but I know better than to say that out loud. People don’t see death the way I do, the way Miemay did, and the way Miemay showed me.

  Ella wouldn’t understand if I told ‘a how even though Grit may die, these last few days of Grit life been some of the best days of my life. Being able to be with them all, bringing Grit’s baby in the world make me think God hear me sometimes. I feel guilty Iain sadder. I’m worried but Grit ain gone yet. I wont to enjoy these last days if they be ‘a last days.

  Smell of sausage, bacon and biscuits make it safe to move, stirring Ella in the darkness. Maybe she know Iain sleep either. I lay silent looking at the ceiling thinking bout Grit dying.

  Don’t seem right, or fair, or possible. Think about other mothers who died as I was growing up. I remember the faces of children I met at church and played with who ain make it to five. Too many to name, too many to remember. Death seem to be just a thing that happen.

  I’m remembering going with Miemay to deliver herbs to folks with fevers, and flus, and aches. I’m thinking bout folks being quarantined, and whole houses dying from one thing or another. I’m thinking bout the midwife curse, and people blaming midwives for they babies dying. Or being afraid cause a baby died, that the midwife bad luck. I’m thinking bout folks fasting and praying for people to be saved, and still burying them.

  Mostly, I’m thinking bout after all these years, how much I missed my sister. Being in this house alone and having Ella here, now, laying next to me make everything feel like it’s gone be alright. A peace come over me, and something tell me Grit ain gone die at all.