Rapture of Canaan (25 page)

But I left. I walked back to the house, slowly, my back feeling like somebody was pinching it from the inside, squeezing it so hard it made me grit my teeth.

When I came inside, Nanna was waiting for me and she helped me get to my bed.

“It’s coming, ain’t it?” Nanna asked me, not happy a bit, not the way I wanted her.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I think so.”

And when I went to sit down on the edge of the bed, that’s when it started pouring out of me, all the water, pouring steady and hard, slippery down my legs, and for a second, I worried that I was having a fish, not a baby.

I soiled the floor and my clothes and the blankets, and I just stood there looking down at it. I tried to stop it, like pee, but it didn’t work. My legs would not go back together. I couldn’t even slow it down.

“It’s all right,” Nanna said. “It’s expected.”

“Uh-oh,” I kept saying.

“It’s all right,” she reassured.

Nanna left me for a while, and when she came back, she brought me something to drink. I think it was alcohol, though I don’t know where she got it, and I knew that drinking was a sin, but it seemed like I’d sinned so much already that a little more couldn’t hurt.

Then I remembered Ben Harback and the grave, and I said, “Nanna, I don’t want to sleep in a grave. Don’t give me nothing that will get me in trouble.”

But she said, “Hush, child, and drink it.”

So I did. I knew that Grandpa called it Satan’s own sweet piss, but it wasn’t sweet at all. It scalded at my throat and made me feel like if I tried to say something, it’d come out demonic and coughing.

As soon as I finished one cup, she got me another one. But by then, I was having a pain, a real one, worse than barbed wire in my skin, and I said, “Nanna, you gotta tell me a story.”

But she said, “Shhhh,” and gave me a piece of rubber that came off the back of the washing machine to bite down on.

I was sure I was going to bite that thing in two.

Then it let up for a minute, and I could feel the sweat on me, just like I’d been in a tobacco field in the middle of summer except it was winter and different.

“Uh-oh,” I kept saying. “Uh-oh.”

“You’ll make it through this,” Nanna promised. “Most everybody does.”

But I was thinking about James’ mamma, who had died doing just what I was doing. I was thinking about Dot, the horse, who bled everywhere. I knew I couldn’t die because then that baby would be stuck good, and if nobody killed it, it would have to live at Fire and Brimstone forever and wouldn’t have me there to whisper in its little ear that rapture or no rapture, it wouldn’t be left behind.

I wondered if the rapture happened at just that moment, if the pains would stop, and I almost prayed for it.

But then I got another pain. A bigger one that hurt so much I messed myself without even knowing I was doing it.

“Tell me a
story,
” I begged.

“I can’t right now,” Nanna said. “I got to clean you up.”

And I was sorry, in a way, embarrassed in a way, but mostly I just didn’t care because I was caught in a wave of hurting that wouldn’t break.

Nanna left with the dirty towels and came back with another drink for me. That time I chugged it just to have something to swallow.

The next time when I cried out, Nanna said, “Bite that rubber,” so I put it back in my mouth. And I didn’t even have to ask for a story because she started telling it on her own.

“When Herman’s pappa died, he inherited a lot of land. More land than one man can handle, I reckon. We were living right here in this house, but not another thing was on this property. It was fields as far as you could see.

“You breathing too fast, Baby. Slow it down. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

I hoped that I wouldn’t choke on that piece of rubber. Usually I was adult enough not to choke, but it seemed like I’d lost control of most everything.

“Anyhow, Herman worked all the time, sun-up until sun-down. And even though he was right here with me, I felt lonelier than I’d ever felt before. My people was all the way over the swamp, and I didn’t hardly ever see them except for on Sundays and Wednesday nights at church.”

“It’s coming again, Nanna,” I panted. “Stop it.”

“Here, get you a piece of ice,” and she picked up a thick sliver and stuck it in my mouth.

“I had little Ernest already, but having a child ain’t always as much company as you think.”

“Uh-oh,” I muttered through my mouth blocked off with the piece of washing machine and my tongue hanging onto that ice for all it was worth.

“Don’t fight it,” Nanna said. “Fighting it won’t do no good. You might as well dive on in.”

“Uh-oh,” I said again, in a voice so high that it must not have been mine, the whole world fading to purple, slowly, so that I thought I was going to knot up so tight I strangled myself trying to get little enough to fit through the circle of light. But then it let go.

“Have you another drink,” Nanna said, and I did.

“He’d come in nights, and I’d already have the baby asleep, and I’d be missing him so bad, wanting him to lay down with me for a while—because sometimes when you’re lonely enough, you feel like there ain’t no way out except having a little bit of another person fill you up—but Herman’d eat and fall right asleep,” she told me.

I was trying to listen. I really was. And I wasn’t hurting just then. But I was tensing up to get ready for the next round.

“Then in the morning, after all my sweet dreams when I’d been imagining things different, at the time of day when I felt full enough already, he’d wake me up feeling lonely, I reckon. I always figured we must be exact opposites. Cause just when I’d be content, he’d have a need.

“Privately, I hoped there’d be another war. So he’d go off again, and I could take Ernest and go back to my people. I ain’t never told nobody that,” she added. “Don’t you repeat it.”

“Uh-oh,” I huffed. “Nanna?”

“Breathe,” she coached. “In through your nose. Deep. That’s good,” and paused. “And out through your mouth.”

“Nanna?” I called.

“It’s okay,” she said, and she rubbed me with oil to help my skin get ready to give.

“Tell me a
story,
” I hollered.

“Shhhh,” she begged. “Bite down.”

“So when Herman got the idea for the church, I weren’t that disappointed at all. In fact, I was happy. Course I feel guilty about it now, because I didn’t care nothing about the religion exactly. I just wanted to have people close by.”

It was all I could do not to holler out. The room was reeling and Nanna was veiled by the anguish of it all. I kept imagining what it must feel like to die—on a cross or in a pond either one.

“Not that story! Tell me about your mamma,” I cried, and then coughed, and Nanna gave me another piece of ice.

But then the pain left me. Nanna poured me another drink. We sat there quiet and she rubbed at my stomach and between my legs, and I didn’t even care, cause it was Nanna. She ran out for a minute to wet me a cloth to put on my head and to get more ice. But it took her too long, and when she got back I was halfway through my next pain, feeling like I was being torn wide open and leaving my teeth marks in the side of my arm because I’d dropped the piece of rubber and couldn’t lean over to get it.

When Nanna saw me, she rushed over and sat beside me on the bed and wiped at my face, glancing occasionally at the clock on the night table.

“Tell me about your
mamma,”
I raved.

“She was pretty,” Nanna said quickly. “And she loved being that way. She’d sit in front of her vanity and brush her hair until I was sure it would all come out in her comb.”

“No,” I moaned, swirling off so far I needed to say something just to make sure I still could. “Tell me about Weston Ward.”

“He had hairy arms,” Nanna fell in. “And you can tell how good they’ll be at loving just by the hair on their arms. My pappa didn’t have much, but Weston’s arms were like a bear, so he was that much closer to nature, and that much closer to being able to ...”

“Uh-oh,” I interrupted as it peaked. “Uh-oh, uh-oh.”

“Breathe,” she said, and I imagined her wiping her face though my own eyes were closed by then. “Breathe deep.”

When that one was over, I was crying, more tears than I’d ever had maybe, and I wished James was there so he could see me hurting that way, because I hated him for leaving me to deal with it all alone. But only for a second. Then I wished Jesus could see me too, hurting so much, but he wasn’t there either. Nobody was.

Or so I thought. Then I glanced at the window and saw that it was still daytime, though I thought it had to be the middle of the night. And I saw Pammy’s little red face, her blue eyes big as plums and peeking in.

I started to holler out and tell her to leave, but then Nanna gave me another drink, and I forgot or just didn’t care.

“What was Weston like?” I asked Nanna desperately when I felt the surge begin again.

“He was a sweet man,” Nanna said. “And I believe he loved Pappa almost as much as Mamma, except he loved her in another way. It was Pappa he wanted to please though. Helping him out in the store and all. Mamma just latched onto him because he was around.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I hollered.

“Mamma?” a voice called from the other room, and I knew it was my own mamma, but I didn’t care.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Nanna hollered back. “Stay out there.”

And right in the middle of another pain, she gave me a final swig. I couldn’t hardly swallow, and I told Nanna that, but she said, “Drink it. You can’t have no more,” and so I did.

“Bite that rubber,” she instructed. She’d picked it up sometime and washed it off and put it back beside me, but I hadn’t even noticed.

“Don’t leave me,” I begged her.

“You’ll be fine,” Nanna swore, and kept talking. “It wasn’t until I was older that I figured out that Pappa wasn’t able to satisfy Mamma anymore, if you know what I mean. And even though she loved my pappa, she had needs that were bigger than that love. I reckon she was just lonely as could be—not having many woman friends and then not knowing how to talk to them about anything except the curtains or what she was making for dinner.”

I saw Nanna look over at the window and spot Pammy, who ducked back down as soon as Nanna turned her way.

I was woozy and throbbing all over, but I said, “Let her stay.”

Before the next pain happened, Nanna went out to talk with Mamma, and when Nanna came back, she had Mamma and Bethany and Wanda and Laura and Aunt Kate and Great-Aunt Imogene with her too. They didn’t all come into the bedroom, but they sat in the sitting room and kept sticking their heads in the door to tell me to hold on.

Then I thought I was screaming, even though I tried not to, but it was just the teakettle from the next room.

Then the pains came again, but I don’t remember them. I kept looking at Pammy’s big eyes in the window and thinking, “I’ll help you feed the chickens tomorrow,” because I knew I’d be flat by then.

And then Laura was sitting beside me, dabbing at my face with a cloth and dropping ice into my mouth, and Mamma was sitting next to my belly, her hand on it low and saying, “It’s okay, Ninah. You’ll be all right.” And I didn’t know where Nanna was, until I saw her blurry between my legs, and I thought I might pass out, but she said, “Push,” so I did, and the whole rainbow fell down over me, all those colors blazing into each other, slow, and she said, “Push,” and I did, and I saw flowers, big azaleas coming at me, and all I wanted to do was bury my head in their middles and swim in like a bee, but she said, “Push,” and so I did, and I saw a wooden boat on dark water, and I wanted to get in and float away until the boat turned into James, and she said, “Push,” and I did, and I saw James kissing the wound in Jesus’ side, and I felt the snip, snip, snip of toenail scissors between my legs, but it didn’t even hurt noticeably. It was all so huge by then. And she said, “Push,” and I saw the ninety-year-old baby whipping James and Jesus with a wet rope, but neither of them cared, and I didn’t either, except that Laura was pushing the hair out of my face, and I said, “No!” and someone cried, someone else, and I don’t remember another thing.

 

 

 

I
slept off and on for a long time. I kept waking up, and
Nanna would be there, and I’d say, “Is it okay?”

“I already told you, Baby.” Nanna smiled. “He’s fine.”

“A boy?”

“Yes, child. Rest.”

So I’d go back to sleep, dreaming wildly things I couldn’t remember when I woke back up.

And then Grandpa Herman came in, and he was grinning, patting me on the head, and he said, “You did it, girl. You gave us the New Messiah,” and I thought I must have been dreaming, but it seemed so real.

Later, when I woke up again, Mamma brought me some grits and fed them to me. “He’s just beautiful, Ninah,” she said somberly.

But I thought I must not be awake really, because my baby was born from sin, so he couldn’t possibly be beautiful, and I didn’t know what to say.

Wanda came in and brought me a rubber glove filled with ice, and she put it between my legs, and then sat on the bed beside me.

“How you feeling?” she asked me.

“Okay, I reckon. Where’s my baby?”

Mamma looked at Wanda, and Wanda looked back at her, and then Mamma reached down and started stroking my face.

“The community decided that it would be best if David and Laura took him to raise. They’ve been wanting a baby so bad, you know. And you need to get back to school and do things with the other children. So we decided that if David and Laura raised him, you’d be his aunt. And you’d get to see him as much as you wanted and tend him every day. But he’d have two parents, like every child should have.”

“Where is he?” I whispered.