Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(101)

“Get outta here,” I write, then slap at him to get him movin’. I hear him cryin’ when he goes out, but now I can get my business done.

I bite down. Push, push. Don’t make no noise! Pain, push, pain, push. Huuuh! I feel it come. It plops out. Lil arms, feet, pushing out. I feel it moving!

My head throws itself back and forth. I’m fighting with myself, not letting my hands reach for it. But then it cries.

I grab down, bring it up, and push it against me to stop it from breathing. The little mouth is working for air. I push in harder. I grunt and bite down hard on the stick, but this time the stick snaps, and that’s when the mama in me takes over. She spits out the wood pieces, grabs at the bloody cord, bites through it, frees the child, then gives it my breast. When the child latches on, I look down and see it’s a girl, and all that’s left of me howls for mercy.

“Don’t cry, Sukey! Don’t cry!” The boy is back. “I’m gonna help you out!” he says, and I reach to kiss his sweet hand.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE


1830


James


PANIC LIT A fire in me. When I passed Pan, I grasped his arm and shouted for him to run. When he fought me, I struggled to keep hold of him.

“We’ve got to go!” I called out, holding tight. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“What about Sukey?” he cried, pulling away. “She’s by herself, having a baby.”

“We can’t stay!” I looked around wildly, sure I heard our pursuers. “Come! We’ve got to go!” It did not occur to me that the heavy panting I heard was my own breath. Believing that we were to be killed, I began to shout in terror. “Come! Come!” I pulled roughly at his arm, but he freed himself and backed away.

“Mr. Burton!” Pan called out. “You not thinking right!”

I left him then and ran. Pan’s call long faded and still I ran, the sound of my own rasping breath fueling me. My terror had broken free, and escape was all I knew. Perspiration dripped into my good eye, and near blind, I was in the water, stumbling over cypress roots, then back on dry land, tearing through thickets of juniper and green briar.

It was the appearance of the bear that brought me back to my senses. The black bear that had been wounded earlier in the day emerged from the green and roared his protest as I struggled onto his small dry island.

On first sight, I addressed him as though he were human, but as my reason returned, I stopped my muttering and slowly backed into the water. Something long slithered around my leg, and I stood frozen, waiting for the snake to kill me first.

The bear moved forward, his hackles up. Slowly, he swayed toward me. Foam frothed and flew from his clacking teeth and when he charged, trapped in a tangle of cypress roots, I waited for death. Then, unbelievably, not twenty feet from me, he splashed down. My legs gave way and I slid into the brown water as death tremors shook the bear’s body. When my strength returned, I crawled back up onto the island to sit, stunned. I was alive! Somehow I had survived.

I looked about, disbelieving. What had I done? I had abandoned Pan, but worse, I had left Sukey while she was birthing a child. What kind of man was I? When I thought of them alone, and of the animals that might approach the cave, I got to my feet. I must go back.

Still dazed, I set off, but night was falling and I soon found myself lost. My only hope was to wait until morning, so I found a dry spot where I waited out the night.

I awoke with the morning’s light. My head felt clear, and after I had drunk my fill of the tannic water, I set out once again. I remained lost, circling for hours, until I remembered a technique that Henry had taught me to find my way back to his shelter. I set up triangles of long sticks on the edges of dry land, and by late morning, I had found my way back to the small island.

Pan sat alone outside the cave under a pine, and a more forlorn-looking child I had never seen. When he noticed me, his eyes lit up, first in relief and then in fury.

“Did she have the baby?” I asked.

He looked away, refusing to give an answer.

I went to the cave and held my breath as I pulled back the entrance covering. “Sukey,” I whispered, and a small mewling noise answered me. Sukey raised her head, then with a sigh, let it fall back again. An overpowering stench filled the cave, but I was drawn in, first by remorse and then by astonishment when I saw something suckling at Sukey’s breast. “Forgive me—” I began, but Sukey’s hot hand grasped my palm. “Water,” she scratched, and when she scratched it again, I realized the urgency. I couldn’t think of what to use for a receptacle until I remembered my leather slippers. Though wet and worn, they were largely intact.

Pan looked up as I exited the cave. “She needs water,” I said.

“I’ve been trying, but it don’t stay in my fingers. All night I was looking for something to put the water in.” He leaned his head on his knees and began to cry.

“I’m going to try to use my shoe,” I said. He didn’t follow me down to the water, but watched from his sitting position as I rinsed out my slipper as well as I could and then hurried back while cradling water in the awkward container.

When I lifted her head, Sukey’s skin felt hot and dry. Though a good deal of the water spilled down her neck, she drank thirstily, and I went back for more. When she was sated, I attempted to take the baby from her, but she shook her head and clung to it tightly.