The Kitchen House Part 6

IT WAS SAID THAT M MISS Martha's screams for her daughter were heard by the workers all the way out in the fields. Immediately after Mama gave her the terrible news, Miss Martha went into labor. Martha's screams for her daughter were heard by the workers all the way out in the fields. Immediately after Mama gave her the terrible news, Miss Martha went into labor.

f.a.n.n.y, sure that she was the cause of Sally's death, couldn't stop shaking and wouldn't let go of Beattie. Mama had Dory take them down to the kitchen to give f.a.n.n.y a drink of brandy, then to stay with her. Papa carried Miss Sally to the house, while the tutor took a stunned Marshall to his room. Uncle Jacob and Belle stayed with the child's lifeless body and waited while Ben rode out for the doctor. I was the only one left to help Mama when baby Campbell was born.

I stood back at the doorway, trembling, unsure if Miss Martha's agonized cries were for Sally or from the spasms that arched her swollen abdomen. Mama called me to her side, but when Miss Martha gave another ear-piercing scream, I froze, and my hands flew to my ears. Mama came to me and grabbed my arm. She whispered into my ear, "Miss Martha just lose one chil', you want her to lose this baby? You here to help, and you helpin' n.o.body when you actin' like this."

Mama's anger affected me more than the terror of Miss Martha's screams, so I accepted the damp cloth that Mama handed me. "Go dry her head, Abinia. Easy now, Miss Martha. Easy with the push, easy with the push, there we go."

From what I have since learned, it was a quick birth, but that afternoon Miss Martha's agony seemed to go on forever. Finally, the baby came.

"Abinia, give me the string, now take the scissor, cut here, don't worry, you not hurtin' him. All right, give me the blanket." My hands shook, but I was able to follow through.

The baby coughed and choked as Mama cleaned him, then he began to cry. Tears of relief and wonder rolled down my face, and helpless to stop them, I wiped them away with the back of my hand. Mama wrapped him in a blanket and took him to his mother. "It a boy, Miss Martha," she said, "it a big strong boy."

"No!" Miss Martha pushed away Mama and the crying baby. She turned her face and closed her eyes.

"Here, Abinia, you hold him." Mama nodded me toward a chair. I sniffed loudly, and she whispered urgently, "Abinia. This no time for cryin'. You got to hold this baby tight. Come. I needin' you here."

Again I sobered. Determined to win Mama's approval, I reached for the baby. "I can hold him, Mama," I said. Instinctively, I began to rock him back and forth until he quieted. While Mama cared for Miss Martha, I looked at my charge. As his hands moved in the air, I noted his tiny fingernails and watched their purple color turn pink. I couldn't quite believe his miniature features, and when his eyes opened, they focused on me. His little mouth worked as though trying to speak, and from deep within me, love took hold.

Mama tried again and again to get Miss Martha to take her child; each time she rejected him, I couldn't wait to have him back in my arms. Mama's relief was evident when the doctor's carriage arrived. He stopped first at the nursery to see Miss Sally, then he came, white-faced, to see Miss Martha. He examined her, though all the while she did not respond to his questions. After, the doctor took Mama aside. He pulled a brown bottle of dark liquid from his case and gave instructions. "You know how to use the drops, Mae," he said. "Give her enough to let her sleep until..." He nodded toward the nursery.

The baby began to fuss, and the doctor came over to where we sat. "You'll have to bring someone up from the quarters to feed him. Do you have anyone?" he asked Mama.

"My girl Dory got a new baby," said Mama quickly, "she feed this one, too."

The doctor examined the newborn; he rubbed the baby's fine blond hair, and I wondered if Miss Sally was going to think this baby was as pretty as Dory's. With a shock, I remembered that Miss Sally was dead.

"Masta Marshall needs lookin' at," Mama told the doctor. She led him across the hall and knocked until the tutor opened the door. Mr. Waters invited the doctor in but shut the door, leaving Mama Mae out. She returned, her face grim. A short while later, we heard both the doctor and tutor speaking as they went downstairs. When they closed the doors of the library behind them, Mama went across the hall to check on Marshall but came back to say that he was sleeping. Then she took the baby from me and sent me to get Dory.

I don't know why I didn't go out the back door but went out through the front. Perhaps because it stood open; certainly, I was disoriented from the day's trauma. I stopped for a minute on the front porch, surprised at the normalcy of a golden sunset. I walked down the front steps past the side of the house, then hung back, frightened to turn the corner. I knew the oak tree with the hanging swing waited there, and I didn't want to see it. I paused under the open window of the library. The boxwoods had grown high, and although no one inside could see me, I was able to clearly distinguish the voice of Mr. Waters.

"It was that Ben fellow from the barns," he said. "He has no business with the children, but there is no one, it seems, who can control him. He has the run of the place, and more times than not, he is sitting behind that woodpile, sleeping. I don't know why he took it upon himself to put that little girl on the swing and push her like that. I don't suppose he meant to kill her, but the way he was pus.h.i.+ng that swing, I don't know what he was trying to do."

I ran then to the kitchen, wanting to tell Dory about the tutor's conversation with the doctor, but when I arrived, Dory, still in shock from Sally's death, was in such a state that she told me to shush. I remembered my original purpose. "Dory, Mama wants you," I said urgently. Dory was trying to prepare the evening meal while her own baby, Sukey, was fussing to be fed. "What!" she asked. "What she wantin'? She know I got enough to do, tryin' to keep up down here!" me to shush. I remembered my original purpose. "Dory, Mama wants you," I said urgently. Dory was trying to prepare the evening meal while her own baby, Sukey, was fussing to be fed. "What!" she asked. "What she wantin'? She know I got enough to do, tryin' to keep up down here!"

I insisted that Mama needed her up in the big house to feed the new baby. Dory glared at me, slammed down a bowl, then picked up her own baby and left for the big house with me following close behind.

The cry of Miss Martha's newborn greeted us. Mama had him in her arms when she met us in the blue sitting room directly off the mistress's bedroom. There, at Mama's instruction, Dory reluctantly put Miss Martha's baby to her breast. I went over, anxious to see him fed. As he eagerly suckled, Sukey began to fuss in Mama's arms.

"Mama," Dory said, "how this can be? My Henry gone, lil Sally gone, and now this one." She looked over at her own child, crying in her mother's arms. Angrily, she looked down at the nursing infant. "He nursin' like this his right." She began to sob. "I don't wanna do this, Mama."

Mama pulled her chair close. She spoke quietly but firmly. "Come on, chil'. Don't you forget, this all workin' for you. It keep them needin' you up in this house. Stop your cryin' now. He got a right to live, same as you and me. A baby don't need you cryin' when you feeds him. You don't want n.o.body sayin' that your milk no good. Next thing you know, they get somebody else in here. You sing to him. That make the milk settle good." Mama rocked Sukey until she quieted. "You feed this new baby first, he need the milk. Then you feed your own sweet chil'," she said, hugging Dory's baby. "You got plenty to give the two of them. All you got to do is eat more."

Dory sniffed hard. "I try, Mama," she said.

I could scarcely wait for Dory to finish so I could hold Miss Martha's baby again.

MAMA M MAE PRAISED ME FOR my help and said that I had done very well for my age. I reminded her that I was already eight years old. She shook her head and wondered out loud how she could have forgotten that. She said I was so good with the new baby that she thought maybe I could stay with him the next day. Eagerly, I rea.s.sured her that I could, and I held the baby in my arms with great care as she set up a nursery in the blue room. my help and said that I had done very well for my age. I reminded her that I was already eight years old. She shook her head and wondered out loud how she could have forgotten that. She said I was so good with the new baby that she thought maybe I could stay with him the next day. Eagerly, I rea.s.sured her that I could, and I held the baby in my arms with great care as she set up a nursery in the blue room.

The overseer wrote Ben a pa.s.s, and he left on horseback to take word of Sally's death to the captain. Early the next morning a minister arrived, and a few neighbors came in carriages and in wagons. They brought food, and Mama was kept busy running back and forth to the kitchen, then back up to check on Miss Martha. Finally, Mama asked if I thought I could give the mistress her medicine when she awoke. Although apprehensive about this new request, I was eager to continue winning praise from Mama, so I agreed. Mama measured the dose and left it with careful instruction, a.s.suring me that I would not be alone for long, as Dory was coming soon to feed the baby.

The baby was sleeping in his crib, so I looked into the bedroom. When I saw Miss Martha stir, then open her eyes, I did not hesitate and carried the drink to her. She seemed to know what I offered and drank eagerly.

Then she rested her head back on the pillows and, with a sigh, dropped her arms on either side of her thin body. Her wrists lay exposed, and blue veins pulsed under her white skin. At that moment she looked as fragile as her newborn. She did not wear a nightcap, and her thick red hair framed her delicate face. Her eyes, green as gra.s.s, settled on me.

"Isabelle?" she asked. She reached for my hand, and I let her touch me. When her eyes closed and I moved to leave, she called me back. "Isabelle."

"I'm Lavinia," I said.

"Don't go," she said.

Recognizing her helplessness, I was no longer afraid and stayed to hold her hot dry hand. She did not address me again but stared past me until her eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep.

I WAS NOT A PART WAS NOT A PART of the services they had for Miss Sally, and I did not witness the burial, though sometime later, Belle took me to the small cemetery. It was located a short distance from the house, on the other side of the orchard. We pa.s.sed through a black iron gate set in a stone wall and sat together on a wooden bench inside the enclosure. I was surprised at how peaceful it was. "Why didn't they put baby Henry here?" I wanted to know, finding comfort in the idea of the two innocents resting together. of the services they had for Miss Sally, and I did not witness the burial, though sometime later, Belle took me to the small cemetery. It was located a short distance from the house, on the other side of the orchard. We pa.s.sed through a black iron gate set in a stone wall and sat together on a wooden bench inside the enclosure. I was surprised at how peaceful it was. "Why didn't they put baby Henry here?" I wanted to know, finding comfort in the idea of the two innocents resting together.

"This place is only for the people of the big house," Belle explained. "My grandma's here." She went over to a very large headstone. She rubbed her hand along the side of it.

"Where is your mama?" I asked.

"She's down same place as baby Henry," she said.

"Will you go here when you die?" I asked Belle.

"No," she said sharply, "I told you, only the people from the big house go here." She added, as though to soften her words, "I don't know what they'll do with me, Lavinia. Maybe just put me under the kitchen house." She leaned down to look at Miss Sally's headstone.

"What does it say?" I asked, confused and eager to change the subject.

"'Sally Pyke,'" Belle began, and as she traced the letters with her fingers, tears rolled down her face. "'Sally Pyke, Beloved Daughter of James and Martha Pyke.'"

OVER THE NEXT DAYS, THE doctor visited Miss Martha again and gave instructions for the opium to be continued until the captain's return. "Let her sleep," the doctor advised Mama Mae. doctor visited Miss Martha again and gave instructions for the opium to be continued until the captain's return. "Let her sleep," the doctor advised Mama Mae.

"This drink mix her up in the head," Mama told him.

"That will sort out," the doctor rea.s.sured her. "Continue to give it to her."

After Miss Martha drank the mixture, it often took a while before she slept again. When awake, she regressed to childhood, and for her, I took on the persona of her young sister Isabelle. As the medication took effect, it wasn't unusual for Miss Martha to have me sit beside her on the edge of her bed. She would undo my braids and nervously untangle my hair, smoothing it until she soothed herself to sleep.

Dory fed the baby and kept him clean, but I was the one who loved him. I held him at every opportunity, and when alone with him, I hugged him and nuzzled my nose in his soft neck to breathe in his sweet fragrance.

The day after the funeral, I was sitting alone in the blue room, holding him. He was awake and gazing at me when, with a sudden sharp memory, I remembered a baby brother of mine, one born in Ireland. One who had died.

"I'm going to call you Campbell," I whispered as memories washed over me. "Campbell," I repeated. He grasped my finger and clung to it. "You are my pretty boy," I cooed. I jumped when a voice interrupted.

"I need to see my mother." Marshall stood at the open door.

"She's sleeping," I said. I hadn't seen Marshall since Sally fell off the swing. His pale face showed his deep misery, and I felt pity for him. "Come see the baby," I said. To my surprise, he came. "See how fat he is?" I pushed back the covers to show his healthy arms and legs.

In spite of his reticence, Marshall knelt beside the chair. "What's his name?" he asked.

"Campbell," I said, trying it out. I held up one of the baby's feet. "Look at his little toes."

Marshall took the baby's foot gently in his hand.

"You can kiss it," I said.

"No!" As though touched by a hot poker, he pulled his hand back. His head dropped, and I thought he was about to cry.

"Marshall, you didn't mean to hurt Sally," I said, wanting to comfort him.

His shoulders slumped, and he looked up at me helplessly. He was about to speak when his mother called from her bedroom. "Isabelle. Isabelle."

Marshall leaped up. "Who is she calling for?" he asked.

"For me," I said.

"Is that your name?"

"No," I said, "I'm Lavinia, but your mother believes I'm Isabelle. Mama Mae thinks that's her sister."

Although I wouldn't have thought it possible, his face lost even more color. "It is," he said, but added with disgust, "She's dead!" He left and slammed the door behind him.

THE CAPTAIN ARRIVED THE NEXT afternoon. Dory was in the blue room, feeding the baby, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Miss Martha. She was near sleep, and I sat with her hand in my lap. afternoon. Dory was in the blue room, feeding the baby, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Miss Martha. She was near sleep, and I sat with her hand in my lap.

"Martha," the captain said, standing in the doorway.

His powerful presence frightened me, and I felt I could not leave fast enough, but Miss Martha gripped my hand.

"Martha," he said again, his voice catching, and I pulled away as he strode toward us. He smelled strongly of grime and horses, but when he sat and gathered her to him, she burrowed her face into his neck.

"James," she whispered, and the anguish seemed fresh when she began to call out her daughter's name. My own throat stinging with tears, I left as he tried to soothe her.

THE NEXT EVENING M MARSHALL JOINED his parents in the bedroom for a light supper. Miss Martha remained in bed but was propped up to eat. Mama served the meal while Dory and I cared for the baby in the adjoining room. Uncle Jacob was setting a fire in the fireplace when Belle burst into the blue room. his parents in the bedroom for a light supper. Miss Martha remained in bed but was propped up to eat. Mama served the meal while Dory and I cared for the baby in the adjoining room. Uncle Jacob was setting a fire in the fireplace when Belle burst into the blue room.

"Mama," she called, "Mama, they have Ben! Get the cap'n!"

Mama came running with the captain and Marshall following behind.

"Belle," the captain said. "Quiet! Please! Martha's been-"

"They have Ben!" she said.

"What?" The captain looked back protectively toward his wife's bedroom.

"They took Ben," Belle cried. "Rankin and the patrollers are with him. They're all drinking. They're saying that Ben killed Sally."

Stunned, Mama sat down on the blue silk chair.

"They tied him up to take him," Belle said. "You got to go get him! They're gonna kill him!"

"Calm down, Belle," the captain said. "What are you saying? Why would they think that Ben-"

Marshall stepped back when the tutor appeared in the doorway. Belle swung toward Mr. Waters. "You!" she said. "They're saying you told them that Ben killed Sally."

The tutor frowned disbelievingly.

"What's this about? Someone tell me what this is about!" the captain shouted.

The tutor addressed Belle. "I spoke to no one about your lover. I was not even witness to the accident. I can only repeat what Master Marshall has told me, and he informed me that Ben pushed Miss Sally off the swing."

We all looked to Marshall. They were going to hurt Ben! I knew the tutor was lying. Why didn't Marshall speak up?

"Marshall?" his father roared.

Marshall's panicked stare went from his father to the tutor.

"Just tell the truth, Marshall," Mr. Waters said.

Marshall's eyes remained fixed on the tutor.

"They'll kill Ben!" Belle was frantic. "Marshall, please. Tell the cap'n! Tell him you pushed Sally."

Belle's terror for Ben became my own.

"Who was pus.h.i.+ng the swing?" the captain bellowed.

"Marshall was," I blurted out. "We all saw him. But he wasn't trying to hurt her." I ran to Mama.

"Belle?" the captain asked her. "Belle?"

"It was Marshall!" she said. "Please! Go! They'll kill him."

Her words propelled the captain into action. We watched as he swung from the room and ran downstairs to the library, where he unlocked the gun case. After he handed Papa George one of the rifles, they galloped off, the night lit blue from another full moon.

IT WAS ALMOST DAWN WHEN the captain returned to his sleeping wife. He woke me as he pa.s.sed through the blue room, where I slept alongside Campbell's crib. I wanted to follow him and ask about Ben, but I dared not. Instead, I watched as he went to the head of the tall post bed, its blue and white curtains pulled back. He leaned to kiss Miss Martha, then gently shook her arm, but she slept an opium sleep. When she didn't respond, he straightened up. He gazed down at her for a long time before he went to the dressing table. There he lifted up the gla.s.s bottle, shook it, then sighed deeply and sat on the small chair beside the dressing table. He set the bottle down, but when I heard his sharp intake of breath, I guessed at what he next saw. On the day of Sally's funeral, while the mistress slept, Uncle had carefully placed the piece the captain now reached for. It was the porcelain miniature of her father that someone had untied from the little girl's wrist. the captain returned to his sleeping wife. He woke me as he pa.s.sed through the blue room, where I slept alongside Campbell's crib. I wanted to follow him and ask about Ben, but I dared not. Instead, I watched as he went to the head of the tall post bed, its blue and white curtains pulled back. He leaned to kiss Miss Martha, then gently shook her arm, but she slept an opium sleep. When she didn't respond, he straightened up. He gazed down at her for a long time before he went to the dressing table. There he lifted up the gla.s.s bottle, shook it, then sighed deeply and sat on the small chair beside the dressing table. He set the bottle down, but when I heard his sharp intake of breath, I guessed at what he next saw. On the day of Sally's funeral, while the mistress slept, Uncle had carefully placed the piece the captain now reached for. It was the porcelain miniature of her father that someone had untied from the little girl's wrist.

The captain drew the bracelet to his chest. As though the pink ribbon pierced his heart, he moaned and leaned over. When he straightened again, he brought the piece to his lips.

Campbell stirred and began to cry. I picked him up and walked with him until he quieted. When I looked up, the captain was standing in the doorway.

"Is Ben all right?" I couldn't hold back the question any longer.

The captain looked at me as though surprised at my interest. "He'll recover," he said. He came forward and awkwardly took the baby from me. "Who's feeding him?" he asked.