Swan Place (36 page)

I got the coffee poured into the cups, quietly put the sugar bowl and cream pitcher on the table, and then I placed steaming mugs of good coffee close to each sister. But not a one of them even looked up. And they stayed just like that for what seemed like hours. Then the strangest thing happened: All of a sudden, I could
feel
their prayers! Like that whole big kitchen was full of invisible butterflies, just flitting around and heading upward! That lasted for a long time, and when I stopped feeling all those butterfly-prayers, I looked and saw that Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb had fallen asleep with her head on her hands and her hands on the Bible.

When it was time for Molly and Little Ellis to have their supper, I made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in that room full of prayers, and Molly and Little Ellis ate them in front of the television. Then I got two spare quilts out of the closet and spread them out on the floor of the little room where the television was and put them to bed in their clothes. For pillows, I found some bath towels and rolled them up to go under their heads.

“Now, as a special treat, I’ll let you fall asleep watching television,” I said to them. So I turned on the television and turned it up loud enough that maybe they wouldn’t hear so much of what was coming from upstairs. I sat down in Buzzard’s chair, and finally, I must have fallen asleep because suddenly there was a new sound coming from upstairs. A baby crying! And from the kitchen, loud choruses of “Thank you, Jesus!” From all the way upstairs, I could hear Buzzard and Miss Rebecca laughing, and that was a precious thing to hear. From Crystal, I heard not a single word.

When I went into the kitchen, the Sisters of the Circle of Jesus were all putting on their coats and getting ready to leave. Their faces were a wonder to behold! They were all covered in sweat and smiles.

“Can I fix you all something to eat?” I asked. Seemed rude to send them out without anything, after all the hard work they’d done.

“No, thank you,” one of them answered. “We’ll be going home now.”

After they all got their coats on and buttoned them up good and tight, they woke up Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb and got her into her child-sized coat, and all the while, she was saying, “Jesus come while I was asleep?” Then two of the sisters lifted her into their arms and carried her out of the house.

After they left, I cleaned up the still-full cups of cold coffee and put on a fresh pot. Buzzard and Miss Rebecca came down just as the coffee was done, and I gave a steaming mug to each one.

“Whoo-eee!” Miss Rebecca said as she slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. “That was a
big
baby sure enough! I’ve seen three-month-olds that aren’t that big. And she just didn’t want to come out into this world!”

“She?” I asked, and Buzzard and Miss Rebecca looked at each other and smiled.

“Nice, healthy little girl,” Buzzard said. “Or I should say—a nice, healthy,
big
girl!”

A girl! Another sister for me! Well, a half-sister, anyway.

“
Circle of Jesus folks did some powerful praying, Buzzard,” I said.

“Yes, Lord,” Buzzard whispered happily. “When those sisters get to praying
hard
, we can sure come into some miracles!” They had both drained their cups, so Buzzard said, “Come on, Miss Rebecca, and I’ll drive you home. You must be pretty wore out.”

I sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Buzzard to come back. I sat so still, but I didn’t really know why. Just that everything felt all fragile and maybe ready to fall apart. When I heard Buzzard pulling Miz Swan’s big car around back, I poured yet another cup of coffee.

“Getting awful cold out there,” Buzzard said as she came into the kitchen, took off her coat, and shivered a little. “I better sleep in your bed tonight, so I’ll be near to Crystal and the baby. Make sure they stay toasty warm.”

“Is Crystal gonna be okay?” I asked, still hearing those screams in my ears.

“Oh, sure. She’ll be just fine. That’s just what a woman has to go through to bring a child into this world. ‘Specially one that big. Where are Molly and Little Ellis?”

“They’re asleep on the floor in the little room,” I answered.

Then I asked, “Buzzard, do you think it’s possible to
feel
prayers?”

“Sure,” she answered easily. “I can always tell when somebody’s praying.”

“I mean more than that,” I ventured. “I mean
feel
them kind of fluttering around a room. Like tiny little butterflies that you can’t see, but you can feel their wings.”

Buzzard studied me for a moment. “Did that happen to you while the sisters were praying?”

“It did.”

“Well, I told you they pray some powerful prayers, Dove. So yes, I suppose it’s possible to feel them. ‘Specially when they’re so filled with love.”

And the next words that fell out of my mouth were as big a surprise to me as they were to Buzzard. “I don’t want to become a woman,” I said.

“Don’t want to become a woman? What kind of talk is that?”

“I just don’t, that’s all. I don’t want to have a baby.”

“Well, maybe you won’t,” she said so simply. “I never did.”

“Why?”

“Never wanted to mess around with men. Besides, my life has been sweet and wonderful with Mr. and Mrs. Swan.” She put her mug down a little hard on the top of the table, and I took that to mean I’d asked enough questions for one night.

“Dove, I gotta go to bed. Why don’t you get another quilt and sleep in the reclining chair tonight. It’s real comfortable. Sometimes—before you all came—I’d fall asleep in it and stay there all night long.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “Tell Crystal I said I’m happy the baby’s here.”

“You can tell her yourself
 . . .
tomorrow.”

The next morning,
I was still sound asleep when Buzzard tiptoed into the little room and touched my shoulder. “You wanta see the baby?” she whispered, so as not to wake up Molly and Little Ellis.

“Oh! Yes!”

We went so quietly up the stairs, and at the top, Buzzard looked at me and put her fingers over her lips. Then she slowly opened the door to mine and Crystal’s room. The only light was coming from the bathroom, and all I could see of Crystal was a lump under the covers. Buzzard led me to a bassinette that was standing close to the bathroom door and stood there beaming. I looked—and in that sweet almost-darkness was a little face. A sleeping face. A baby girl with blond hair just like Crystal’s and tiny, ruby-red lips. And while I stood there looking at her, the lips pursed and made a sucking sound for a few moments before they relaxed again. I looked at Buzzard and nodded. She grinned as big as if she was the mama of that little baby. Then we tiptoed back out of the room.

“Where’d you get the bassinette?” I asked when we got into the kitchen.

“Out of the attic,” she answered. “Sure did take some good cleaning, though, I tell you. Thirty years’ worth of dust is an awful lot.”

“Whose bassinette was it?” I wondered out loud.

“It’s an awful sad story—you sure you want to hear it?”

“I
 . . .
I guess so,” I said.

“There was a time when Miz Swan was expecting a little baby, and she had gotten together all kinds of the nicest things you could ever imagine—that bassinette and clothes and toys and blankets, and maybe a hundred diapers!” Buzzard raised her eyebrows, a signal to me to show appreciation for all that expensive stuff.

“Goodness!” I said.

Buzzard nodded and went on: “But that little baby came way too early. Tiniest little thing you could imagine. No bigger than a doll. A little boy it was, and he didn’t live.”

“He didn’t?”

Buzzard closed her eyes and shook her head. “Like to have broken Miz Swan’s heart. And she never wanted to try to have another one.”

“That was going to be his bassinette?”

“Yes. And I’ve been washing a few of the diapers and clothes a little at a time. They were all put into a trunk and it never opened, from that very day. Until I found out Crystal was going to have a baby that could use those things.”

“That certainly is a sad story,” I said, wondering how things like that could happen. That beautiful Mr. and Mrs. Swan, and them so much in love. Things like that shouldn’t happen. They just shouldn’t, that’s all. Buzzard set about making the breakfast biscuits, and I sat at the table, watching her and wondering about that poor little baby that was born too soon.

Around midmorning, we heard the baby starting to fuss, and then it started crying, sure enough. Buzzard went up the stairs and stayed for a very long time. But the baby never stopped crying. Not a single time. Finally, Buzzard came down the stairs with the baby nestled in the crook of her arm. It was all beet-red and making such loud cries, you wouldn’t think a little baby could have that much noise in her.

Buzzard looked at me with strangely hollow eyes. “She won’t feed it, Dove,” she said, above the crying. “I never heard of such a thing! A mama who won’t feed her own child? I’ve got to call Miss Rebecca.” And before I knew what was happening, Buzzard just
plunked
that little baby right into my arms! Why, I was so surprised, I couldn’t say a word. I just held her and started kind of rocking back and forth with her and all of a sudden, she got to studying my face, and she stopped crying. Molly and Little Ellis were watching me, so I sort of leaned down just a little so they could see the baby. But I kept rocking back and forth.

Buzzard was on the phone, and when all that wailing stopped, she turned around and studied me real close.

“Yes, I can hear you now,” she said. “Wait and let me get a pencil.” She fumbled around in the drawer and pulled out a stub of a pencil and started writing on the back of an envelope. “That’s the doctor’s name? Okay. I’ll call him right now. Yes, I do understand her milk won’t come in at all, unless she lets the baby nurse. But she just won’t!”

“How’d you get her to stop crying?” Buzzard asked, dialing the phone again.

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I just sort of rocked her a little and she stopped.”

“Well thank the good Lord for that!” Buzzard exclaimed. “This here’s gonna be a doctor can tell us what kind of canned milk to get for this poor little thing.” Then someone in the doctor’s office must have answered, and Buzzard started telling them that we had a baby less than one day old whose mama “couldn’t feed it.” I knew why she changed the “wouldn’t” to “couldn’t.” She was embarrassed.

“Uh-huh
 . . .
uh-huh,” she grunted into the phone, all the while writing something down on the envelope. “Thank you so much. Yes, I’ll bring the baby in if she doesn’t hold the milk down.” She hung up the phone and studied the envelope.

“Listen, Dove, I gotta go to the store and get some canned milk for this little thing.” My heart absolutely skipped a beat! Was she going to leave me all alone with that tiny little girl and her hungry?

“It’ll be okay,” Buzzard assured me. “If she gets to crying again, you just put your little finger in her mouth and let her suck on it. I’ll hurry as fast as I can.” And before I could think another thought, she had thrown on her coat and headed toward the garage, running. So there we were: me and Molly and Little Ellis and this baby. And Crystal.

“Now you all come on and sit down,” I directed, heading for the little room and the big recliner that would make me feel lots safer about holding the baby. Molly and Little Ellis sat down on their quilts on the floor, but they stayed turned toward me and the baby, while cartoons played on, without any sense to them, seemed to me. The baby had fallen asleep again, and I was awful glad. I just didn’t know what I’d do if she kept screaming the whole time! I held her so still and easy and watched her. Under her paper-thin eyelids, I could see her eyes moving back and forth, and she kind of fluttered in her sleep a little. And that tiny mouth would lift up on one side in a crooked grin, showing all her pink gums. I fell in love with her, right then and there. So all my vows about never loving anybody again went right out the window, once again.