CHAPTER 24 Sons, Then Heirs

God did not show him favor.

Abbie had settled us in my room and the baby burned hotly in my arms. It had been two hours since his birth, and he still had not latched on for a feeding. I worried, and when he dozed off, I thought hard on what Mama would do. The Jailer pushed my door open and entered.

“Is it really a boy?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He moved to my bedside and carefully picked up the baby from my arms. Tears were in his eyes. He has cried over the birth of every one of our children. This time was no different.

“We will name him Rubin.”

I knew that I would not call my son Rubin, and settled on Bin for myself.

“Something is wrong. Didn’t you feel how hot he is? I think we need to send for the doctor,” I told him.

Concern crossed his face as he returned the baby and then left the room. It was not long before I heard an insistent rapping on my door. The gray-haired, hunchbacked doctor entered my bedroom carrying a big black leather bag, with a stethoscope around his neck.

“May I?” He took the baby from me and started unwrapping him from the blankets. After conducting a full examination of Bin, he lowered his eyes and declared that he had puerperal fever.

“He will only last a few more days. I am so sorry.”

The Jailer rubbed my cheek with his hand and then walked the doctor out. I wanted Mama. Most times to sense her was enough, but this was the first time in a while that I’d wanted her physically. There had to be a cure. I needed my diary with the recipes, so I gave Abbie the baby and made my way down the stairs. I could feel the blood gathering between my legs but I had to save my son. I crossed the courtyard and then reached for the tin container that hid my secrets. By the time I returned to my room, the blood had soaked all the way through my skirt.

The diary bulged in my hand, nearly full from all the girls’ stories I had collected over the years. In the front were Mama’s recipes, and I turned the pages until I found it. The tea was meant for adults but it was all I had. I tucked the diary under my pillow, called to Abbie, then rattled off a list of what I needed from the market.

While I waited for her to return, I tried to get the baby to suck. He would for a few seconds and then give up. I kneaded my nipple and tried to make the milk come down to make it easier for him. He took a swallow and then fell from my breast.

“Come on, Bin, just take a little bit for Mama,” I coaxed.

I knew I had no business getting out of bed again, it had so exhausted me the first time, but when Abbie returned with the ingredients, I made my way over to the kitchen house.

Elsie opened the door. “What you doin’ here, Miss Pheby? Should be restin’.”

“Doctor said the baby is not going to live long. I have got to try to save him.” I held up the bag with the ingredients.

“What you needin’ me to do?”

“Help me make this tea.” I sat down on the chair in the corner and gave Elsie the instructions on how to brew it. When she finished, she brought me a taste.

“Little more apple cider vinegar and I will be on my way.”

Elsie poured the tea into a pot and then helped me up from my seat. I thought she would just hand over the pot but she carried it to the house for me.

Abbie rocked Bin near the window. “Ain’t moved much since you gone.”

I eased back on the bed. His body still burned hot, and his skin looked grayish.

“Hey, sweet Bin,” I said. He opened his tiny slits of eyes and looked at me for the smallest second. I took it as we had an understanding. I, as his mama, was going to do everything to keep him alive. He was going to drink the tea and let me work a miracle.

I used a dropper to feed him the tea around the clock, every hour on the hour, but saw little improvement. Abbie prayed, Elsie sang, and July mostly kept the girls occupied.

By the third night of our around-the-clock vigil, Bin’s breathing had grown shallow. Abbie was sitting at the foot of my bed, Elsie in the chair in the corner when Bin started crying, loud and steady. I looked down at him in my arms. It was the first time I’d heard his voice. I tried to soothe him with my words. “It is okay, Bin. Mama’s right here.”

He gave a shudder and then a small sigh. Everything in him went still. An icy feeling traveled up my arms.

“Noooo,” I cried out, but Bin was gone. Even though the doctor had warned me, I sat in disbelief.

Elsie came for the baby. “Abbie, get her to sip from the brown jar. She in shock.”

Everything inside of me was shattered and thrashing all at the same time. I felt worse than I did when I was sold, when I had lost Essex, worse even than how I felt when mama died. This one pierced me down in a place deep, and the pain kept hemorrhaging.

“Come on, Miss Pheby.” Abbie tipped the jar to my mouth, and then everything went blank.

When I woke up, the sun had gone down and the curtains were drawn. The Jailer laid next to me. His arms wrapped around me like a cradle. When I turned toward his face, his cheeks were moist, and his eyes were red too.