Jonah's Gourd Vine (11 page)

“Uh prayer went up tuhday,” Deacon Moss exulted to Deacon Turl. “Dat boy got plenty fire in 'im and he got uh good strainin' voice. Les' make 'im pray uh lot.”

Deacon Turl agreed and went on home to his chicken dumplings.

John never made a balk at a prayer. Some new figure, some new praise-giving name for God, every time he knelt in church. He rolled his African drum up to the altar, and called his Congo Gods by Christian names. One night at the altar-call he cried out his barbaric poetry to his “Wonder-workin” God so effectively that three converts came thru religion under the sound of his voice.

“He done more'n de pastor,” Moss observed. “Dat boy is called tuh preach and don't know it. Ahm gwine tell him so.”

But Moss never did. Lucy's time was drawing nigh and a woman named Delphine drifted into town from Opelika. John was away from both home and church almost continually in the next month.

Alf went to see Lucy.

“Lucy Ann, where's that husband of yours?”

“He's out 'round de barn somewheres, ain't he, Mist' Alf?” Lucy asked. She knew he was not there. She knew that Alf Pearson knew he was not there and that Alf Pearson knew that she knew he was not there, but he respected her reticence.

“Lucy, you oughta take a green club and flail John good. No matter what I put in his way to help him along, he flings it away on some slut. You take a plow-line and half kill him.”

When Alf was gone Lucy looked drearily up the path for her husband and saw her oldest brother coming with his double team.

“Lawd a mussy!” she groaned and dropped into a chair. A heavy knocking at the door.

“Who dat?”

“Iss me, Bud. Lemme come in right now. Ahm in uh big hurry.”

Lucy opened the door feebly and Bud's stumpy figure thrust itself inside aggressively as if it said in gestures, “Who you tryin' tuh keep out?”

“Lucy, Ah come tuh git dat three dollars you borried offa me.”

“Well, Bud, tuh tell yuh de truth, Ah ain't got it right dis minute. Mah husband ain't here, but he'll be here pretty soon, then he'll pay yuh sho, Bud.”

“Who don't know he ain't here? How he gointer be here, and layin' all 'round de jook behind de cotton gin wid Delphine?”

“You better come back, Bud, when he's here and tell 'im all dat tuh his face.”

“And whut it takes tuh tell 'im, Ah got it! He ain't nothin' but uh stinkin' coward or he wouldn't always be dodgin' back uh yuh. Ah'll tell 'im all right. 'Tain't no fight in him.”

“G'wan home, Bud. If papa wuzn't dead you wouldn't come heah lak dis—and me in mah condition.”

“Ah know you done wished many's de time you had married Artie Mimms.”

“Naw. Not nary time.”

“Gimme mah money and lemme go 'fo' Ah git mad agin.”

“Ah tole you Ah ain't got no money and won't have none till John come.”

“You ain't gonna git none den—dat is if he ever come. Some folks say he done quit you fuh dat Delphine. She strowin' it herself all over Macon County and laffin' at yuh. You jes' dumb tuh de fact.”

“You can't pay no 'tention tuh talk. Dey's talkin' everywhere. De folks is talkin' in Georgy and dey's talkin' in Italy. Ah don't pay dese talkers no mind.”

“Gimme de money, Lucy, and lemme go.”

“Done tole yuh Ah ain't got no money. Come back heah when John is home.”

“Naw, Ah ain't gonna do nothin' lak dat. Ah come heah wid de determination tuh git mah money uh satisfaction, one.”

“But, don't you see Ah ain't in no fix tuh be fretted all up this uh way? G'wan leave me uh lone.”

Bud looked around him contemptuously. “Humph! Here mah sister is cooped up wid three li'l' chillun in uh place ain't big uhnough tuh cuss uh cat in 'thout gittin yo' mouf full uh hair.”

“G'wan way from me, Bud. Ahm too sick tuh be worried.”

“Naw, Ah means tuh have something fuh mah money. Gimme dat bed.”

“Dat big one wid de knobs on it?”

“Yep. Who you reckon want de tother one dat dem chillun done wet in? Move! Don't you git in mah way. Move! If you wuz married tuh anybody you wouldn't be in no sich uh fix.”

The bed was down in a twinkling, the feather mattress and bolster heaped upon the floor, while Bud dragged out the head and foot pieces. Lucy sank down upon the mattress and fought the lump in her throat. When her brother returned for the rails and slats, Lucy was crumpled in a little dark ball in the center of the deep mound of feathers.

“Bud, you ought'n tuh take dat bed. Mist' Alf give it tuh us. Dat's our weddin' bed.”

“He oughta give 'im mo'. Git up offa dat air mattress!”

“Ah ain't, and if you don't git offa dis place Ah'll call Mist' Alf. Ah bet you'll leave here then.”

“Aw Ah ain't skeered uh no white man. Ah been free ever since Grant took Richmond.”

But in a few moments Bud was gone and Lucy was shivering and weeping upon the feather mattress.

“Hezekiah,” she called to her oldest boy, “run down tuh de quarters lak uh li'l' man and tell An' Pheemy tuh come quick. Run on, son. Youse five years ole now, youse uh great big boy. Hurry up.”

“Mama, Ahm hungry.”

“Mama know it too. Run on now. Run fast, Hezekiah! Show mama how fas' you kin run. Oh Gawd have mussy on me! Have mussy in uh mos' puhticular manner. Have mussy on mah ever-dyin' soul!”

Before midnight Lucy in awful agony upon her pallet on the floor had given birth to her first daughter.

The odor of airless childbirth hung over the stuffy room. Pheemy with the help of Old Edy and Della performed the ancient rites.

Edy and Della sweetened the mother and put a clean meal-sack sheet beneath Lucy, but only Pheemy could handle the after-birth in the proper way, so that no harm could come to Lucy. That is she buried it shoulder deep to the east of the house beneath a tree, then she returned and attended to the navel string of the baby and adjusted the belly-band.

“Della, you and Edy kin go 'long now. Ah kin see after Lucy.”

They went reluctantly. As soon as the sound of their feet died away Pheemy asked, “How you feelin' inside, honey?”

“Lawd, An' Pheemy, Ah got somethin' in mah heart ain't got no name. Ah layin' here right now tryin' tuh find some words for feelin's. Look lak mah right heart ain't beatin' no mo'.”

“Neb mine, Lucy, 'bout de words. You needs sleep and rest and some chicken gruel. Ah gwine bring yuh some. Ahm gwine find some sheep pills so de baby kin have some sheep shadney.”

That night Pheemy fell asleep in a chair before the fire. The children full of corn pone and buttermilk had been asleep since early night. Lucy alone saw John when he crept in towards morning. She shut her eyes and pretended sleep. John stood looking down upon her for a long time. Lucy, later, thru the crack of her eye saw him examining the new-born baby, and felt him timidly tucking the covers under her feet, and heard him stretching himself on the floor beside the mattress; heard the deep breathing of his sleep. She raised herself upon her elbows and looked at him hard. She looked at the flicker
ing fire, the rude dingy walls and everything in the room and knew that she'd never lose the picture as long as she lived. She stretched out her hand nearest her husband and rested the fingers on his tousled head. With her other arm she cuddled her baby close, and fell into a deep, healthful sleep.

When Lucy woke up, old Hannah was riding high. The light was strong in her face. She looked about and asked Pheemy, “Where John?”

“He at de barn—done chopped up uh tree for wood. Oughter be 'bout through wid his work by now. You better suckle dat chile.”

John crept in and stood before Lucy while her fat daughter searched hungrily for the nipple.

“Lucy, whut you doin' sleepin' on de floor?”

“Dat's all Ah got tuh sleep on, John Buddy.”

“Where de weddin' bed at?”

“Bud come took it fuh dat li'l' change us owe 'im fuhm las' year.”

“When he come got it?”

“Yistiddy.”

He hung his head a moment.

“Lucy, kin Ah see de baby?”

“She nussin' now, John. Soon's she git through.”

“Dat ain't no trouble.” He stooped and picked up mother and child and sat with them in his lap. “Lucy, Ahm sho proud uh dis li'l' girl chile you done had. Dat's jus' whut Ah wanted—uh girl so us could have it fuh uh doll-baby. An' Pheemy, don't Lucy have de biggest babies? Dis chile it almost big as her. She so little Ah hafta shake de sheets tuh find her in de bed.”

She slapped him feebly.

“Ain't you got no better sense dan tuh set in uh man's lap and box his jaws? He's liable tuh let yuh fall thru his legs.” He stopped laughing abruptly. “An' Pheemy you fed mah wife and slopped mah three li'l' pigs?”

“Look in de meal-barrel and see.”

John didn't look. Pheemy's words told him. He laid Lucy
again upon the pallet and left. As he stepped thru the wire fence gap at Bud's place he saw Bud riding up the path behind him on his mule, his huge bull whip coiled upon his saddle-horn.

“Gid up dere, Sooky!” Bud Potts held his eyes stubbornly before him. John Pearson's hand flung out, grasped the mule's bridle close to the bit, and shoved the animal back upon its haunches.

“Gid down, Bud. You might kin beat me, but if you do, eve'ybody goin tuh know you been in uh fight. So good uh man, so good uh man.”

“Whut you mean, John, comin' here pickin' uh fuss lak dat?”

“Ah ain't come tuh pick no fuss, Ahm come tuh fight. God bein' mah helper Ah means tuh teach yuh how tuh go proagin' 'round takin' folkses weddin' beds when dey ain't home and flinging dey wives on de floor. Gid down!”

“If you wuz any kind uh man, all dis wouldn't come tuh pass. De white folks and eve'ybody is sick and tiahed uh de way you keerin' on. Nohow you can't beat
me.
Ahm uh
man.
”

“Maybe Ah can't, but Ahm so goin' tuh give it uh common trial. Hit de ground! If Ah don't beat yuh, you kin go and tell de word Ah give it uh po' man's trial.”

Bud tried to ride off, but he was snatched scuffling to the ground and hammered to his knees time and time again. When he swore no more, when he begged for mercy no more, John picked him up and heaved him across the rump of the mule and recrossed the branch.

Almost home he remembered the empty meal-barrel and swerved off into the Weens' wood lot where droves of piney wood rooters nosed for ground nuts. John laid a shoat by the heels and stuck it expertly before it had squealed more than three or four times. Looking all about to see if he was seen, he swung the hog over his shoulder and took the back way home.

By that time the sun was washing herself in the bloody sea and splashing her bedclothes in red and purple. John built a
fire under the washpot, and dressed his meat before he came inside the house. When Lucy opened her eyes from a nap, crude slabs of pork steak were sizzling in the skillets.

“Where you git all dat fresh meat from, John?”

“Neb' mind where Ah got de meat from. You jes' eat 'til you git plenty. Ah'll get out and throw uh natural fuh you any time. You got uh
man
tuh fend fuh yuh.”

“Lawd knows Ah do needs one. Me and mah po' li'l' chillun been singin' mighty low 'round here.”

“Now, Lucy, don't start dat talk 'bout breakin' up and quittin' 'cause Ah ain't goin' tuh hear dat. Youse mah wife and all Ah want you tuh do is gimme uh chance tuh show mah spunk.”

“Good Lawd, John, dat's all justice been beggin' righteous tuh do—be uh
man.
Cover de ground you stand on. Jump at de sun and eben if yuh miss it, yuh can't help grabbin' holt uh de moon.”

“Li'l' Bit, please don't tongue lash me,” there was a short pause, “'cause Ah done beat Bud nelly tuh death, and dat's plenty tuh think uhbout—by rights Ah oughta kilt 'im.” He rubbed his swollen knuckles.

“Oh mah Gawd! When?”

“Dis evenin'—jus' 'fo' Ah come home, Lucy. Ah wouldn't be no man atall tuh let yo' brother uh nobody else snatch uh bed out from under you, mo' special in yo' condition.”

“John dat's goin' tuh cause trouble and double, Bud hate you and now you done hit 'im he ain't goin' tuh let his shirt-tail touch 'im till he tell it tuh de white folks. Lawd, me and mah po' chilluns. If dey ever git yuh on dat chain-gang Ah never speck tuh see you live no mo'.”

“Ah ain't goin' tuh no chain-gang. If dey ever git in behind me, Ah'll tip on 'cross de good Lawd's green. Ah'll give mah case tuh Miss Bush and let Mother Green stand mah bond.”

“Dey liable tuh grab yuh, 'fo' yuh know it.”

“Aw les' squat dat rabbit and jump uh 'nother one. You ack lak you done cut loose.”

“Naw, Ah ain't cut loose but look lak wese tied tuhgether
by uh long cord string and youse at one end and Ahm at de other. Way off.”

“You kin take in some de slack.”

“Don't look lak it.”

“Aw, lemme see de caboose uh dat. Less eat dis hog meat and hoe-cake. Jes' 'cause women folks ain't got no big muscled arm and fistes lak jugs, folks claims they's weak vessels, but dass uh lie. Dat piece uh red flannel she got hung 'tween her jaws is equal tuh all de fistes God ever made and man ever seen. Jes' take and ruin a man wid dey tongue, and den dey kin hold it still and bruise 'im up jes' ez bad.”

“Say whut yuh will or may, you tryin' tuh loud talk me, but, John, you gives mah folks too much tuh go on. Ah wants mah husband tuh be uh great big man and look over 'em all so's Ah kin make 'em eat up dey talk. Ah wants tuh uphold yuh in eve'ything, but yuh know John, nobody can't fight war wid uh brick.”