Trouble's Child (10 page)

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Waves washed up in a spray now and the wind was no longer a roar. Martha lay next to Hal on the wet deck, exhausted.

He squeezed her hand and asked, “How did you get here?” Before she answered, he said, “Oh, I'm glad you're here. I'd have lost the
Marraine
without you.”

She told him how the squall had driven her on to the boat. Then she was quiet, glad that Hal was quiet too. She listened to the waves as they rocked the boat back and forth, up and down, and she felt a oneness with the boat, the brown Gulf and the sky. Aware of Hal beside her, she was filled with a quiet, peaceful joy. Her mind flashed to the day Cam's baby had been born, to the quiet of that day and the unexpected joy she had known with Titay and Cam.

Then she recalled the recent howl of the wind and roar of the Gulf. She looked at Hal. With his eyes closed, he seemed as relaxed as she felt. She placed her other hand over his and let it stay. Finally she said, “Mebbe a child bo'ned in a sto'm
could
be bo'ned t' trouble.”

“What?” He raised up to look at her.

“See, heah they say I'm bo'ned t' trouble cause I was bo'ned in a sto'm. I saw this birth and it was so quiet. Evey time I said somethin, Granma said,
Sh, sh
. I was thinkin yuh can't say
sh
t' a sto'm. So mebbe in noise like that I am bo'ned t' trouble, no?”

Hal chuckled as if embarrassed by her openness. “Could be. We're all born to some trouble, especially if we're different.”

“Yeah, like m' friend Tee. He was bo'ned t' drown, so people say. And he did.” She explained about the hole in Tee's ear.

An amazed look came over Hal's face and Martha was not sure he believed her, but when he spoke he was serious. “Oh, that. I've heard of that superstition. Strange, it's different in every area. In Texas, some people believe that little hole means you have extra senses, can predict the future. That little hole is a preauricle pit. It means nothing, Martha, but a little skin missing. Lots of people have it—it's quite common. Listen, what we believe is often what we get.”

“I git so scared cause these people round heah blieve so much I can't understand it all. Like m' granma …”

“But your grandmother knows so much, Martha. And she has a lot to teach anybody.”

“I know. And I like knowin all the things she say, yes. But I can't keep em all in m' head, no.”

“Write it down.”

“I tell yuh, I can't put all that stuff tgether. I wanna leave this place.”

Hal rolled over on his stomach to face her. “Why would you want to leave a place like this? It's so beautiful, quiet and peaceful. There's so much to learn here.”

Suddenly she knew she was talking too much and that she had been on this boat too long. She jumped up and moved to the bow and stood looking out toward the horizon. Happiness returned as she remembered that once before she had stood there and felt the wind and the rhythm of the waves. Then there was a sudden revelation:
Mebbe I'm bo'ned t' trouble, but I ain't evil
. The world came closer and she felt at ease, at peace with herself.

“Martha.” Hal came and stood behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her backward to him. Her heart beat so wildly that she hardly heard the whisper in her ear. “Did I upset you when I asked why you want to leave this place?”

“No.” She moved out of his embrace. She could not look up at him, nor could she say to him all that she wanted known about why she must leave.

He reached out and lifted her face so that she looked into his eyes. “Don't be upset with me.”

“I ain't. You see this place wid two eyes, so you see much that is good and beautiful. I see wid one eye. I have t' see mo'n this place 'fo I can know if it's what you say.”

He laughed and drew her to him. “Oh Martha, my serious Martha. I'll do all I can to help you go.…” He held her close. His firm tenderness frightened her and she stiffened. Then he softly kissed her forehead. His lips lightly touched her closed eyes. When he kissed her mouth, all the happiness in the world seemed centered in her heart. She wanted to hold onto him and that happiness forever. Then the fear returned and she broke away. “Please take the
Marraine
in closer, yes.”

Nearer the shore she knew she should leave the boat; still, she lingered. Again he held her face in his hands and moved to kiss her lips. Quickly she turned her head and his lips brushed her cheek. There was an invasion of yearning that she had not known, ever. Martha, pulling away, ran across the deck, down the ladder and swam to shore.

Martha hurried along, following the Gulf trail that would take her home. Gray clouds rolled swiftly. She watched her shadow appear, disappear with the sun. She could not remember ever being so happy. Hal would help her go away! Then the church bell tolled, calling the people together. Had something happened to Titay? Martha's step quickened with fear, and she moved as fast as she could along the trail.

As she neared the village she heard voices.

“Heah's er basket she hid in the woods,” Cora said.

“Why'd she hide er basket?” Titay asked, alarmed.

“I tell y'all she was headin tward that Gulf, deep in the wood.”

“Where there ain't almost no shore?” one of the men asked.

“Where women that spects our way never go lone,” Cora said.

The women raised their voices in disbelief.

Cora had been in the woods. Did she see Martha go near the
Marraine
? Did Cora know Martha was on that boat? Noise rose from the crowd and Martha knew the women were again divided between Cora and Titay. For the first time since leaving the
Marraine
, she felt guilty.

When the crowd saw her there was a great hush. Children looked at her and moved closer to their mothers. Suddenly she was painfully aware of her bleeding hands. Her clothes were dirty and dripping. Her body ached and the scratches on her arms and legs still stung from the salt of the Gulf. She touched her head scarf. It too was wet and half undone.

Everyone stared at her as if she were a stranger. How could she tell she had gone on the boat to save her life? She looked at Titay. Titay seemed so old and frightened. She looked at Martha, but Martha felt that Titay neither saw nor recognized her.

“Look at er,” Cora shouted as she approached Martha and faced the crowd. “Where she be in all that wind and rain? If she be clectin herbs like the old lady say, she could reach home befo the squall. Would she clect herbs thout a basket? Ask er—where she be?”

The crowd mumbled nervously and Titay lowered her head. Cora looked at Martha and shouted, “Let er tell us where she be so we can judge ourselfs if she be not the brazen one we blieves er t' be.”

The people waited. Martha wanted to run to Titay and tell her not be ashamed, but she could not move.

Then Cora said, “She got a ready tongue t' say we stupid cause we know the power of mirrors. So let er speak now.”

Martha remembered that day. She knew the trouble Cora had caused with the women about her wanting to go away. She trembled. She wanted to tell the women what had happened. She wanted to say how she had helped Hal save the boat, wanted them to know what she had felt: a moment of joy in a quiet place, and a oneness with a boat, water and sky. She thought of that moment and could not hold back the smile.

“Look at er,” Cora shouted. “She's a brazen, connivin one in league wid the devil.”

Martha turned toward Cora with tears in her voice. “I'm not brazen, no,” she cried. “I had to go on that boat.”

Titay, moving toward Martha, said, “Mat, quiet yuhself.”

“Un-hunh! She be on that boat. She connived t' be lone wid that man. There's mo t' this heah girl n meets the eye,” Cora shouted.

Titay faced Cora and said, “Fiah on the tongue can make blind the eye. Le's cool down now.”

“Yeah,” Gert said. “Mat's safe and that's good. Where she be is fuh Titay t' handle. Le's go t' our houses.”

Martha entered her house very much afraid. Titay had listened to Cora's accusations. Martha did not know what to expect.

“Go clean yuhself,” Titay said.

Martha bathed and Titay helped bandage her hands. “You rest and I bring yuh warm tea,” Titay said.

Titay came into the room and stood while Martha sipped the warm liquid. Finally Titay said, “Now I want yuh t' tell me, what was you doin on that boat?”

“I woulda drowned, Granma.”

“Who you think blieve that? You dare go n be lone wid that stranger …”

“I done no harm.”

“You poke fun at our way, callin people stupid. You fused t' have yo quiltin, and now yuh go gainst the island.”

“I tole yuh, I woulda drowned.”

“What yuh doin way down there by that Gulf when you oughta be clectin herbs, anyway?”

Martha did not answer.

“Say somethin, woman. Why's you at that boat?”

The “woman” frightened Martha. She felt she was being abandoned. “I didn't plan it, Granma, no.”

Titay moved to stand over Martha, who sat on the bed with her eyes cast down. Martha had forgotten how intimidating her grandmother's strength could be. Now Titay's voice rang clear. “You denied our way. Yuh done shamed evey girl and woman on this island. Yo punishment'll be sufficient.” Titay started toward the door.

“Granma,” Martha cried, “don't leave me.”

Titay looked at Martha. Martha saw the anger in her eyes. Titay said firmly, “I got no mo words wid you. Yuh on yo own. The island'll deal wid you.”

Martha paced her small room. Without Titay's support she had spoiled her chance of going away with the islanders' blessings. She had done what she had to do and what she had done now weighed heavily upon her. She felt all alone. But she was accustomed to being alone. Hadn't Titay set her apart?

The stillness in her house was more than she could stand. She felt trapped in her grandmother's silence.

If only she had made friends with someone. Had not been so busy and neglected Ocie. What would the women think if they knew she had been on that boat before? She thought of Hal.… What if they ran him away from the island because of her?

She lay on her bed, restless, remembering the ugly confrontation with Cora. “But I did what I had t' do,” she said aloud. Suddenly she felt a calming sense of peace and fell asleep.

She awoke when Titay knocked on her door. “Dress yuhself and come heah,” Titay said.

Evening had come. Martha was surprised to see Hal sitting with Titay in the front of the house. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. How long had he been there? What had he told Titay?

Suddenly she wanted to flee—never to see him again. She buried her face in her hands and shook with sobs.

“Martha,” Hal cried, moving toward her.

Titay stepped between them. “Yuh done done nuff harm.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Hal said.

“You been heah long nuff t' know our way. We don't go t' the well less we ready t' drink.”

Martha burned with shame and Hal said, “We did nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You was lone on that boat. In the eyes o' our people that's nuff.” Titay looked at Hal and her voice sizzled in almost a whisper. “You done shamed the Dumas name. Disgraced us on this island. Now you be a decent man. Marry er n save her honor.

Hal sighed, jammed his hands deep into his pockets, lowered his head and hunched his shoulders. “I care for Martha. But I had assumed all along that she was at least nineteen. Martha's considered a kid where I come from. I'm a bit old for Martha. When Martha was born, I was already seven.”

“I don't care!” Titay said. “When she be twenty-five and you be thirty-two, won't make no diffunce.”

“Well, I guess we can get married.”

“No!” Martha screamed. “No, no, I'll not marry im; I ain't marryin nobody. I'm leavin this place.” Again she broke into tears.

Titay took Martha in her arms. “Hush,” she said. “Hush up and come t' yo senses.”

TWELVE

The Island was divided. Each eye and each ear was an antenna that picked up every gesture, every word. Rumors raced back and forth between those who supported Cora and those who supported Titay. There was agreement on only one thing: Martha had denied their way.

The church bell sounded for the evening services. Martha did not want to go, yet she dared not stay away. When she and Titay arrived at the church, the people had already gathered. The women greeted Titay, but none greeted Martha. Ocie, now only weeks away from labor, barely nodded to Titay before she and her mother joined Cora.

Martha and Titay sat together. Titay joined in the singing and clapping while Martha sat subdued, her bandaged hands in her lap.

Finally it was time for the testimonials and prayers for the sinful. One by one women and men rose to ask for prayers for forgiveness and for strength so that they would sin no more. Martha was there in body, but her mind was far away.

“There is a sister in our midst tnight who's sinned,” the prayer leader said. “Her sin can be fogived. She can be cleansed in the blood and made white as driven snow. She need only come, confess, repent and cast erself on the altar.”

Martha sat still with the amens and hallelujahs all around her. Suddenly she knew it was she who was being asked to repent. She stiffened, the rising anger trying to find space inside her.

“She know who she is. Come, come, sister buke the devil and deem yuhself.”

Martha felt crowded with guilt and shame, and for a moment she wanted to stand and cry aloud for forgiveness.
But fuh what
? Her shame and guilt turned to anger. She stared straight ahead as if contracted, petrified. Voices, pleading and condemning, flowed over her. She sensed Titay trembling beside her and knew tears were flowing down her grandmother's cheeks. Still she could not bring herself to move or speak.