Wash (29 page)

It was hot and he was hotter and smelled. Sweating. With flies moving over him, adding stinging bites to the deep burning I knew he was already feeling. That fever ran high, trying to kill the sickness, and the two heats fought each other, sapping his strength.

There were a few folks in there with him but they weren’t doing much. Hovering just like the flies, seemed to me. I pointed towards the door with my eyes. Watching them filing out, I kissed Phoebe in heaven for giving me this medicine that made people listen to me.

Told Wash first thing we do is break that fever. I had two boys tote his pallet into the shade behind the springhouse. They jostled him hard and liked seeing him weak. They were just coming into manhood and I could tell what they thought of Wash. How they thought they would be so different from this. Lord help em is all I could think.

They set him down rough and I got them gone soon as I could. Told em to bring me one of those water troughs from where I saw it laying empty behind the barn. Clean it out good and bring it as full as you can carry it. It came back teetering but more than halfway full.

I used those same two boys to help me get Wash off the pallet and into the trough. I knew he didn’t like them touching him, but once he was laying inside that trough of cool water, with his arms hanging over the sides, his hands splayed on the grass and his head resting back, he felt better. Looked like Moses in the rushes but bigger.

I sent those two boys away and called over two others. One small and one bigger. Both nice and quiet. I gave my bucket to the little one and walked them around to the front of the springhouse. It was cool and dark inside. I lifted the containers of butter and milk and set them on the thin flat stones laid in real smooth around where the springwater wells up.

The little one’s eyes near about popped and I knew I’d cursed him by letting him see all that butter and cream. He’d be dreaming about it for a long time. I just hoped he wasn’t going to try to sneak some on his own and get his behind torn up. Sure enough, Emmaline sent Chatty to sit by the springhouse door making sure nothing snuck off while I was in and out of there. Fine, just leave me be.

I showed those boys how to dip the cool water. Tote it to the trough and pour it in real careful. Don’t let the lip of the bucket touch the water Wash was laying in. Pretty soon, I had cool springhouse water rising around him, hot water boiling for his tea and him chewing those rocket flowers. He heated that water faster than the boys could cool it, so I’d just pull the plug to drain it and start over. Each time we drained the trough, I could see some of his heat going with it. He was feeling better just being out of that cabin and having the flies off him.

My hands on him was helping too. Always seemed to. My hands felt good on a body. They stayed cool, no matter how warm I got. Sometimes I’d lay one on the small of my back and one on my belly. Calmed me right down.

After a long while, we stood Wash up and draped him across our shoulders to get him back in the cabin. He was real glad to be laying flat again. But I could tell it was hard on him being in the quarters. Looked like it hurt him to have folks so close, with him not able to get away. Sick as he was, he was always straining towards the door. And he wouldn’t look at me with his eyes open or slammed shut, either way. Acting just like a baby child does, thinking if they don’t look at you then you can’t see them. His eyes stayed hard on the ceiling, like he was waiting on it to do something.

Wash

Maybe I did like being a big man. I know I did. At first, I went after it like I was going to break through to some other side. And they did fall away. Most times, all those women fell away. Like they were veils between this world and the next and I stayed steady trying to break through. I knew where the hell I was headed and I kept trying to push past em. Never did get there though. Caught some glimpses, but I never did get there.

Each time I went after it, I felt it coming nearer and nearer to me, opening up and opening out, and I’d think I might make it across. But then that feeling good way down in my low belly would always bloom and there I’d be, like a fish flopping in my coming, with that whole other world I kept trying to reach fading away from me, drifting like leftover storm clouds.

It was only when I didn’t push and didn’t get out ahead of myself that I ever got anywhere. Pallas was the one who showed me. I guess I thought she was so thin and almost see through, maybe she’d be the one where I could finally make my way over to that other side. Even laying there sick as a dog with my parts on fire, I still thought about getting up on her. Like that was the only way I could see a woman.

But Pallas came and she sat by my bed. Laid that cool hand on my forehead, gave me some bitter tea to drink. Laid another hand on my belly, telling me I was getting better, even though all I felt was burning from my chest down to my legs with roots running up the small of my back.

But even then, even when I couldn’t picture getting up on her without it feeling like a heavy weight was falling on my bare foot, I wanted to grab her. Even then, I saw myself leaving marks on that pale thin arm from taking too tight a hold and her trying to pull away.

But I didn’t. Something about the way she looked at me told me I could reach right through her and she’d still be standing there staring at me. She wasn’t just some place to walk through to get from one side to another. She was a whole new place and her knowing mocked me.

Looked like she was telling me, fine, go ahead and grab at that if you think you need to, but you won’t never reach it. And meanwhile, there’s a whole world over here, passing you right by. But go on ahead, running after whatever you think it is you need and don’t worry about it none. Most people never see what’s right under their nose anyhow.

And smiling. Watching me wanting to reach right through her and then laughing at me. That’s when I thought maybe she has some knowing I don’t. By this time, I’m laying there looking at her, and she knows I’m seeing the way she’s reading me.

All I said was, maybe you might show me something sometime. And she just looked at me. Didn’t say yes, didn’t say no, so I knew she was at least considering it.

Pallas

I had to stay over at Richardson’s for a couple of days, seeing about Wash, which was fine by me. I liked staying with the old women and having children around me.

While I was over there, Richardson had me clear up all the other ailments. Some coughs and colds and worms but nothing too bad. It’s usually the little ones and I want to say give em more than that shirt to wear and they won’t stay so sick. Spend your money on clothes and shoes and you won’t have to spend it on me.

At least Richardson saw this. He kept his people fed and clothed so there wasn’t too much else for me to do at his place except some odds and ends. But he always wanted to know what I was doing and why. Lord that man could lurk. He’d step so quiet and stand in the doorway while I was seeing about somebody, but I felt his eyes on me from the beginning.

Sometimes he’d just stand there. Other times, he’d come real close and peer over my shoulder. Whenever I was at his place, I had to remember to close my satchel and keep it between my feet or else he’d be poking into it. Reaching in, picking up my medicine, looking at it, smelling it. Asking me what was this root and that one. Most times I’d make up a word, except for the real easy to find plants. Call me selfish, but I didn’t feel like giving him my every little thing.

I stayed at Richardson’s for several days, pulling Wash into the clear. I hoped Elsie’s baby might come while I was there and save me a trip back but she kept swelling with that baby not even thinking about coming.

But it was just as well since I needed to do some collecting. Wash turned out to be a bigger man than I remembered and thick. The dose Phoebe had said to use on somebody his size didn’t do nothing. I kept having to add more and more till I’d used most of my stores.

I was glad to get out of those quarters and I hoped their woods might have some medicine that was hard for me to find at home. Went to ask some of the women where was a south facing hill sloping to some water and most of them looked at me with their eyes wide like they were scared to go off the place. I kissed Phoebe in my mind’s eye again for making sure I didn’t end up like that. Afraid to go anywhere or even be alone.

I went in to see what Wash knew about plants and where to find them. I sat by him and laid my hand on his forehead. Lifted his cover to look and laid it back down. His fever had broken with his sores drying to crusty. Told him most times, the worse it looks, the better it’s getting.

We hadn’t talked much except for me telling him, I’m laying this on you now. Letting him know where to expect a touch and what kind. Hot or cold, sharp or smooth. I figured a surprise was not what he needed. He never said anything but he had started looking at me. Once he took his eyes off the ceiling, he’d watch my hands first, then he’d watch my face.

Sometimes when I’d be sitting by him, staring out the window, waiting for him to wake up, I’d feel something on me and I’d realize he wasn’t asleep after all. He’d been watching me. But it was hard to catch him looking at you even when you felt it.

And there he was, even as sick as he was, still looking at me like I was a piece of something. Right from when I walked through the door. Almost made me glad to see him baking in that fever.

But I’d learned to keep myself wrapped clear around myself, just like those bloodroot leaves wrap around that flower standing so straight. And I remember doing just like that, standing way back inside myself, watching him trying to look at me.

And sure enough, after a while, he started to shift and soften, just as sure as if he was cooking. Pot gone to bubbling on the stove, and he’s sinking down into that boiling water, softening like a big bunch of stiff squeaky greens. Not all at once but in bits and snatches.

I’d catch him looking at me and I’d hold his eyes with mine till I felt the air between us buckle and waver and I felt him starting to see me. And maybe I did know something after all. Made me smile. That big man staying so sure he was all alone in the world and ain’t nobody ever thought his thoughts. And then there I was. I think I drew him up short for once. I did.

And Wash knew where to find the roots I needed. Seemed like he found some relief in thinking there was something he could tell me I didn’t already know. Told me exactly where I’d find a good big patch of goldenseal under some sweet gum trees, high on a southwest facing slope where the river bends. He never said that same patch of goldenseal was growing right up from his mamma’s grave. Took him till much later to tell me that.

I said thank you very much and was there anything else he needed. He asked me could I check on that new foal. Make sure he’s coming along all right. Said the bay mare was maiden and she had shut her first baby out, whirling to kick whenever the little man tried to nurse. Wash had been going to the barn every day and holding that skittery mare against the wall where the foal could get at her. But then he fell sick and didn’t know whether Ben was handling it or not. He asked me to see if she’d taken her foal on good and was he getting enough milk.

I walked through the barn on my way to the river and I found the mare soon enough. Young and fine, bright blood bay going to black on her dish face. No white anywhere. My eye was drawn right to her because she was so jittery, bobbing and weaving in her stall, pacing around then sticking her head out over the door and ducking it in again. Like she was waiting on something but didn’t know what. I figured with all that pacing she was doing, there was no new foal laying on the floor asleep the way he should have been. I walked to her stall door and looked in. All I saw was straw.

I went on out knowing I wasn’t going to tell him. Got what I needed and came back. I tried to leave my news about the foal outside the cabin. Tried to keep it from him till he was better and could sit with the mare to ease her.

I came in and kept my back to him, acting like I thought he was asleep while I went to fixing the root for him, but he knew before I told him and I felt him tearing down the middle. When I turned to check, he looked straight at me but it was like he was looking into a well. All I could do was pull the rocker close and sit by him, laying my hand on his heart while he tried to stretch himself out to make room for this new loss. So I did. Kept my hand on his chest and just sat there.

After a long time of his heart burning right along with the end of his fever, I felt him start to burn clearer, his spirit opening a little, laying itself out under my hand. I wasn’t taking on his hurt but I wasn’t shirking it neither. I just let it drift off through me somehow.

Wasn’t until I lifted my palm a long while later when he turned and looked at me. I drew my hand into my lap and we sat there looking at each other. Not pushing, not pulling, not doing anything. Just looking.

Next thing I know, I’m lifting my head up off the back of that rocker. Late afternoon light coming cross the room and I’m waking from another dream about flying low and close over some wide shimmery water. Except this time, the water was his dark brown chest stretching as far as I can see and the light kept moving on it so pretty.

I looked over at him and I could tell he was dreaming real sleep dreams instead of those tossing around fever dreams that hold you trapped between asleep and awake. I knew he was through the worst of it and I started gathering my things together. I left some root for him to chew and I walked past the barn asking Ben please get my horse ready as I headed up to the house for that banknote to carry to Miller. I got home right along with full dark.