Trouble's Child Read Free Page B

a weddin party . She swallowed again and again to stifle her sobs.
    But weddings are for fun, and Ocie’s was well planned for just that. Her father came alive as he and Ocie’s brothers played never-ending music. There was loud talk and laughter as people enjoyed the many dishes. Just as Tee’s father was the island’s best fisherman, his mother was the finest cook. There were fresh shrimp, tubs of crawfish, lots of Gert’s gumbo and rice and many delicious cakes, puddings and pies.
    The celebration lasted far into the night with everyone dancing, including Titay. Martha, catching the rhythm of the drums, rocked the party with her movements. There were whispers: “She will take Titay’s place, sho, and lead the festival.”
    Martha woke drenched. Her little room seemed without air. She got out of bed and was surprised to find no sun. A heavy fog hung over the island. The quiet frightened her until she realized that it was already noon, dinnertime.
    Titay was making her rounds visiting the sick. Martha went into the kitchen feeling drained by the heat. Titay had left a covered plate on the table. Curious, Martha lifted the cover. Cake! Leftovers from Ocie’s wedding. She could not resist—one piece, then two. The cake made her thirsty.
    She went outside to fill the water pail, but it was so hot, she sat under the pump letting the water stream over her. Then she drank and drank. It was a great effort to move. Before she had changed her dripping clothes, she was hot again. Feeling worn, she decided to go back to bed.
    When she awoke, the fog had gone; the sinking sun left the sky aglow.
    â€œWhat’d you do tday? You ain’t even swept the flo, no?” Titay was preparing supper.
    â€œIt be too hot, Granma.” Martha got busy to help finish the meal. They ate in silence, and while Martha put food away and washed the dishes, Titay went to sit outside. Soon Martha smelled the smoke from rags set out to smolder and keep mosquitoes away. Voices of people who came for advice or just to talk briefly with Titay drifted to her.
    Before she had finished the dishes, Titay called in the voice she always used to summon Martha for serious talk. “Mat, come heah.”
    Martha stood in the doorway.
    â€œC’mon, sit, girl.”
    The smoke curled up and spread out, stinging Martha’s eyes and nose. There was silence between them.
    â€œOcie had good weddin, yes?” Titay finally said.
    â€œEveybody had good time, yes. Know I did.”
    â€œThey liked yo dancin. They all say how good you look and what woman you is now. So I think tis time fo you t’ start thinkin bout yo life work. I’m old, Mat. Done kept the way o’ this island. I gather herbs, wait on the sick. Peoples look t’ me fo midwifin. I hope yuh ready t’ take m’ place.”
    The warm sticky sweat that had bothered Martha all day suddenly chilled. She shivered.
    â€œYou mus git ready fuh yo quiltin. I’ll vite the whole island and show yo patten. They’ll know yo hand’s out fuh marryin.”
    Martha felt the muscles tighten in her throat. She sucked in her breath, fighting the feeling of suffocation. Across the way in the dark, small houses stood in rows. The light of the stars was strong and bright. The night was filled with sounds, and with the smells of flowers, of the Gulf and of wet and dry things. Suddenly she felt a surge of love for this place.
    She longed to tell her grandmother that she didn’t want to be married, not now. There was no one on Blue Isle she wanted as a husband. But how could she say she would not have quilting parties, would not marry? She knew of no one who had not.
    Titay went on. “You’ll like yo patten. I dreamed this one befo you’s bo’ned. I see this plain piece wid five rings in the cener locked t’ one nother, making a design in the middle o’ the rings. Twas so clear that I knowed it would make a