Still House Pond (13 page)

It wasn't the pain that had Copper fretting for Adie. It was the frailty of her tissue-thin lungs and her toiling heart.

With a kitchen tong, Copper fished a pair of scissors from the kettle and laid them on an ironed cloth beside a pair of antiseptic ligatures. Remy made her ligatures using six strands of sewing thread, eight inches long, knotted together at either end. They worked flawlessly for tying off the navel string.

Adie took a coughing fit. Copper eased her into a sitting position and offered her a sip of cold water. Adie was on fire with fever.

“I wish it was winter.” Adie spit out words and phlegm. “I wish I could go to the pond and lay out on the ice.”

“I'll need a pan of warm water,” Copper told Remy, “and the bottle of alcohol.”

Adie's head fell back over Copper's arm like a weary child's as Copper bathed her face and shoulders. “Tell me about the pond. Do you skate on the ice when it freezes over?”

Adie rallied. “The young'uns do. It puts you in mind of a fairyland all sparkly and bright. Betimes I'll chip a piece and let it melt against my tongue.”

Copper bathed Adie's arms and dried them with a soft flannel. A pain overtook Adie, and her body shook from its fierceness.

Copper murmured comfort as she wiped her patient's thin but shapely feet. The scent of rubbing alcohol and freshly ironed linen mingled, giving an air of industry to the room.

Adie turned eyes like live coals on Copper. “Did ye ever eat snow cream?”

“Do you make yours with sugar and vanilla?” Copper asked, nudging Adie onto her left side so she could check her progress.

“Ye should try it with a drib of molasses,” Adie said between gritted teeth. “Oh, I wish I could go lay flat out on the frozen pond.”

Copper smoothed strands of hair from Adie's forehead. “It won't be long now. Try to rest.”

Thunder boomed. Remy peered out the window. “It's a-striking now,” she said of the lightning. “I hope Foxy is in out of it.”

Copper smiled as she worked. Remy had had a series of adopted foxes, all named Foxy. “She should have stayed under the shed.”

“She had to move to protect her young'uns,” Remy said. “She's got a lair up under the cliff by the springhouse.”

“Well, she didn't go far, did she?” Copper said.

Remy chuckled. “No, I reckon not. She's got too used to the soft life what with Lilly feeding her eggs.”

“Wonder who taught Lilly to do that.”

“That child's a natural with animals. I never seen the like.”

Copper emptied the dirty water into a slop bucket. “She takes after you. I hope it doesn't get her into trouble someday.”

Remy tipped the teapot and poured boiling water into the wash pan. She rinsed the pan, filled it halfway, and let it sit. “Lilly will always land on her feet, Purty. Don't you worry about that.”

Copper tested Adie's forehead with the back of her hand. “Much cooler and she's dozing.”

“That's good, for she ain't nothing but skin and bones with a hank of hair. I'll be right surprised iffen she's got enough gumption left to push.”

“This baby will be small, so maybe it won't take more effort than she can give, but I've got forceps in the kettle if need be.”

Remy made two cups of tea and added a teaspoon of honey to each. “I should have made coffee.”

“This is just right,” Copper said, taking a seat at the table. “I'm jittery enough without coffee.”

Copper looked across the table at her friend. Remy poured tea into her saucer and blew on it before taking a long slurp. “Remy, you are such a good friend to me. Thank you for your help.”

“Where else would I druther be?” Remy asked. “What else would I want to be doing?”

“You know I feel the same way. It's like God led us to this very moment in time.” Copper stirred her tea with a bent spoon. She took it out of the cup and laid it aside. John could heat it up and straighten it. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“To bless us, I reckon.” Remy left her tea to add a chunk of wood to the potbellied stove. She jabbed deep into the fire with the poker, then latched the stove door. Holding her hands toward the heat, she rubbed them together. “That storm's put a right chill in the air.”

“Is your rheumatism acting up?”

“Aye, ain't it always when the weather changes?”

The windowpanes rattled from the wind and the thunder. Copper's cup clanked in the saucer.

Remy went to the window again. “It's sure enough a frog strangler out there. Cain't see a blessed thing.”

A knock at the door startled them both. Remy answered it.

“Just checking to see if you needed more wood,” John said.

Copper took the slicker from the peg behind the door and stepped out onto the porch. “John, you needn't come out in this.”

“You should have told me when you left the bed. I don't like to wake up and find your side empty.”

She nuzzled up against him. “I'm sorry, but you were sleeping so good.”

He pulled the slicker tightly around her, then wrapped her in his arms. It felt so good to be wrapped up in his love. “That last big bolt took out the cherry tree.”

“Oh no. No cherry pie this summer. Did you check on the kids?”

“No need. They're all piled up in our bed.”

“Even Lilly?”

“Even Lilly. Jack was first with his cold feet in the small of my back—then here came the girls. Lilly says, ‘Somebody scoot over.'” Copper could feel his smile. “I figured this was where you were.”

John was so good, so steady. She didn't have to be so strong when she was in his arms. “I'm afraid for Adie,” she said against his chest. “If it wasn't storming, I'd send you for her husband.”

“I'd be three times a fool to go on that man's property in the middle of the night,” John said. “He'd shoot me and throw me in that pond of his before I said hello.”

Copper leaned back, but it was too dark to see John's face. “He can't be that bad. He knows Adie was due anytime.”

“Do you think he cares? Would she be so beat down if her husband loved her?”

“That's so sad.”

The door opened a crack behind them. “We're getting down to business,” Remy said, handing John an empty water bucket. “If ye don't mind.”

Adie didn't put up a fight once her baby was safely delivered to Copper's waiting hands. “Is it a boy?” she whispered through cracked lips.

“It is. You did a good job. He's a handsome one.”

“Lorne Lee. . . . Tell Isa.”

Tears streamed down Copper's cheeks. “I'll tell him. Lorne Lee is a good, strong name.”

Copper laid the baby boy on Adie's chest and covered them both with the warmed blanket Remy handed her.

The blue gray of Adie's face pinked up for a moment. “I want to touch him.”

Copper lifted Adie's hand and laid it on the baby's back. Remy stuck a pillow under Adie's elbow. Adie gasped for breath as she fumbled with the buttons on her flannel gown.

“Let me help,” Copper said, positioning the baby to nurse.

He was a strong little fellow despite how he must have struggled in the womb just to stay alive. Copper guessed him at least five pounds.

Copper wanted to crawl right up in the bed beside Adie and wrap her in her arms. Instead she knelt beside the bed and prayed for God to send His mercy and His love. When she finished, she stayed there watching.

Adie's lips lifted in a smile. “Well, would ye lookee who's come?” Her words an effort between wheezes and gasps. “Granny's a-standing by the garden gate. She's a-holding out her hand.”

Adie slipped away as dawn broke over the cabin in the woods. Her baby boy lay quiet in her arms. The storm was over.

Copper sat back on her heels. It was a privilege to be with someone as she passed over. But it was hard to rejoice just now. She'd have to get past her guilt and sorrow before she could be happy for Adie. She had wanted so badly to save her. Wearily, she stood and began to remove the soiled bed linens. There was no need to soak them in cold water—everything would be burned.

“She give her all for him,” Remy said as she took the baby boy and carried him to a chair she had pulled up close to the stove. “Don't seem fair.” On the floor she had put a footbath full of warm water. She laid the naked infant across her lap, attending first to his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Finished with that, she generously applied Vaseline to all the folds and tiny creases where vernix had collected.

Copper watched from the bed, where she ministered to Adie with her own soft flannels and a pan of water, her clean starched sheets and one flat pillow. She and Remy didn't agree on all matters of infant care. Copper would have used olive oil in the folds instead of Vaseline. But that was a small thing. Besides, trying to change Remy's ways was like trying to turn a train.

As Copper bathed the still body of the mother, Remy soaped the squirming baby, then bent over the footbath and rinsed him clean. While Remy wrapped the baby in a warm towel, Copper pulled a clean nightgown over Adie's head and dressed her feet and legs in cotton stockings. As Remy held a square of old linen to the fire for a minute before slipping it over the raw navel stump, Copper closed Adie's eyes with silver coins. After Remy diapered and dressed tiny Lorne Lee, Copper crossed his mother's hands upon her chest. The babe slept unaware, safe and warm in Remy's care.

Copper felt a hundred years old as she lit a fire behind the quarantine cabin. Every fiber of her being ached from work and worry. She wanted to get everything cleaned up before the children rose.

She struck a sulphur match and held the flare to the corner of a sheet. Smoke billowed up. The ground was so wet it might take a while. How could she possibly explain to Lilly what had happened during the night? She didn't want to frighten her, but it was never right to tiptoe around the truth. It would help that Lilly had never come to know Adie and that she wouldn't see the baby. Remy would keep him in the cabin until Isa Still came.

There—a spark took hold. She fed more linen to the flame. The rooster crowed. At a distance, she saw a light come on in her kitchen. John stepped out the door and sat on the steps as he always did to put on his shoes. He would do the milking. The children would sleep late after being disturbed in the night by the storm. When they waked, they would feast on bacon and eggs and blackberry jam on Manda's baking powder biscuits. They would drink warm milk brought in straight from the cow. What would Adie's children be eating this morning?

A knot formed in Copper's throat. With a long stick she thrust a feather pillow into the fire. In seconds it burst open. Hundreds of flicks of burning feathers shot into the damp air and quickly flamed out. Charred bits of gray ash swirled around Copper's head and shoulders as if it were snowing sorrow.

She needed to hurry and get the linens taken care of. Hurry and wash up—add her clothes and Remy's to the bonfire. Hurry to straighten the sick house. Hurry to boil some sugar water before Remy commenced feeding the infant water in which bread had been soaked. Hurry so the baby wouldn't get the grippe from Remy's gruel. Hurry to make some onion tea in case it already had.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. It came away streaked with ash. She was bone-weary but glad of it. The weariness brought a certain kind of peace. It took energy to grieve. That would come later.

13

Lilly had firm instructions from Mama. “Entertain your brother and sisters and keep them away from the windows. And don't bother Manda. She's busy.”

The whole day had been strange. Manda cooked and baked things they were not allowed to eat. Mama scurried around as if the missionary ladies were coming to lunch. Daddy rode off early and didn't come back for hours. Aunt Remy never showed up at all. Lilly had planned to beg Mama to let her ride Chessie over to see Kate, but it was not a good time to ask for any favors. That was easy to see.

Finally, after Lilly was about to die from curiosity, Mama took her aside and told her what had happened during the night. Lilly was shocked. How could it be that Mama didn't know how to fix poor Adie? And if Mama couldn't, why didn't Aunt Remy? This was a new thing to think about.

Now Lilly shooed the twins and Jack into the back bedroom. She had a pair of scissors, a shoe box, some shirt board, a jar of mucilage, and last year's Roebuck catalog. They would make paper dolls. She could do the cutting, the girls could pick out the pictures, and Jack could do the pasting. She had tried jacks, but Molly kept flinging the jacks all over the room, and Jack bounced the ball so hard he nearly broke a lamp. Paper dolls were a good activity. It should keep them busy—and quiet.

The girls weren't very good at picking out models to turn into dolls, so Lilly got her watercolor set and let them paint the shoe box where the paper dolls would live. They weren't very good at that either, but they liked doing it.

“Here,” she said, handing Jack a figure she had carefully cut out, “paste this on the shirt board.”

Jack pounded the brown nipple of the upended mucilage bottle against the back of the doll. “This thing won't work.”

Lilly took it from him and broke the glue seal. She pumped it a few times on the front of the catalog, then handed it back. “Try again. Just a dab—not the whole bottle.”

She could hear a wagon roll into the yard and Daddy John's voice. She couldn't tell what he was saying. Someone answered, but she couldn't understand him either.

Lilly went to the window. Out of sight behind the curtain, she chanced to peek out. Mama had said to keep the kids away from the window. She didn't say Lilly couldn't look.

A man sat on the wagon seat. He had a long beard and longish dark hair. A woman sat beside him. She had on a high-necked rusty black dress and an old-lady bonnet that hid her face. When Daddy John pointed, the stranger flicked the reins. The wagon slowly rolled out of Lilly's sight. Aggravation! She would have stomped her feet, but that would set off the kids. Then they'd flock to the window.