7

After the master became a justice in the common court of pleas he was often away, and when he was at home, people who had problems came to the house to talk to him and to get his help. I’d never seen so many strange-looking people. Mostly poor. They had problems with landowners making them pay high rents just to farm the land. The master took time to talk to them, but the mistress looked at them in a way that made most of them twist their hats in their hands and leave the room to wait in the yard until the master called them.

During this time of year the men on the place were always busy calving and lambing. After our morning chores, Bett and I were sent into the fields to help prepare the soil for planting. We worked several hours hoeing and raking, then went back to the house to help prepare meals for the workers who had been hired to do the planting.

On Monday mornings we built a fire under the iron pot in which we boiled the bedclothes, work clothes, and linen. Then we put them in a pounding barrel and pounded them with sticks until all the dirt was out. When they were finally clean, we took them down to the stream and rinsed them. Even with Bett’s strong arms to help, it took a lot out of me to get the wringing done.

At sundown, when our work was finished, I ached all over. My hands burned with blisters from the hoe and rake, my back was stiff, my legs sore. I knew Bett was tired and aching, too, for we fell asleep right away without talking. In spite of the hard work, I liked being outside. In a deeply blue sky, sun-filled, snow white clouds floated. Ever-welcome birds flitted about giving their music without being asked, and the wind, being contrary, scattered our piles of straw at the end of rows. The spring air was warm and soothing.

On days when it rained we stayed inside cleaning lamp chimneys and fireplaces and mopping floors—all the chores that had been left undone while we worked in the fields. It rained often, cold drizzling rain that filled the streams and soaked the earth. One night we huddled together, frightened by slithering lightning and sharp blasts of thunder. There was a loud knock on the door. The master was away for a few days, so we didn’t answer. Then a voice called, “Bett, wake up.” It was Nance.

Bett finally opened the door. There were two women with Nance, both soaking wet. The eldest said, “You must please come. My daughter is in labor for two days now. Our midwife can’t bring the baby. She said you can help if you’ll come.”

“Where is the mother?” Bett asked.

“Near Great Barrington.”

“As far as that? How will we get there in the storm?”

“We have a horse and chair.”

“But it is late. My mistress does not allow me to do this kind of work.”

“And my daughter will die if you don’t.”

I looked at the women and remembered them from the party. The daughter had been there, too, her belly round like a calabash bowl. She was very thin and looked tired and weary then. I wanted to shout at Bett, Forget the mistress. Go! But I said nothing.

“Please,” the woman said.

Bett decided to go. I wanted to go with her, but Nance said no, firmly. She and I could hide Bett’s whereabouts and maybe the mistress would never know.

It was still raining and cool enough for lighted fires in some of the rooms. With the rain, and the master being away, the mistress ordered her breakfast in bed. Nance decided to serve her favorite breakfast of fruit, warm bread and butter, broiled fresh fish, and tea with cream.

After all this time, the mistress, too, was pregnant and happily expecting her baby in July, several months away. She slept late, went for long walks, and often went for long rides on her favorite horse. Her friends and the master disapproved of the riding and warned her that it could hurt the baby, but the mistress paid them no mind. She made many demands during the day and sometimes in the night.

One could hardly tell that a baby was coming for the mistress had always been plump, with broad hips like the ladies in a painting on her bedroom wall that she proudly said was a work of a Dutch master. She also had a round face with rosy lips and cheeks. Her light hair, piled high on her head, often escaped in little wisps that fell around her face, giving her a soft look. Bett said she was pretty, but somehow I always brought out the worst in her, which was not at all pretty to me.

At ten o’clock the mistress had not come downstairs and Bett had not returned. Twelve o’clock came and the mistress was sleeping. At two o’clock, wearing a large, soft wrap over a warm nightgown, she came into the kitchen with her long hair down. “Nance,” she said yawning, “I’m starving.”

“Oh, Mistis Anna, Ah’ll give yuh uh good lunch. Why don’ cha go back upstairs and wait?”

“It’s cold today and the kitchen is warm, inviting. Where is Bett? I would like for her to do my hair.”

I dared not speak. I looked at Nance. Nance seemed to take forever to answer.

“I sent her tuh git fresh milk. She oughta be back heah in a li’l while.”

“You should not send Bett out in the rain. Lizzie could have gone.” She turned to me. “Why didn’t you go?”

“I was scrubbing the hearth and scouring pans.”

Nance, busy preparing lunch, was silent, and the ever-present tension between the mistress and me forced the mistress back upstairs. She had her lunch there and we were left alone. If only the rain would let up. Maybe she would go for a walk or visit a friend. But no. Around three o’clock, Bett still had not returned. We were worried. What if the mistress called for her again? But worse, what if something had happened to Bett?

Just as we heard the mistress stirring upstairs, Bett walked in the back door with a bouquet of lovely spring flowers. Nance rushed to her. “What took yuh so long?”

“The gods chose not to breathe life into the little one. And we almost lost the mother. I could not leave right away.”

Bett was hardly out of her cloak when the mistress entered the kitchen. “Bett, where have you been?”

“To gather your favorite flowers to cheer you up in this bad weather.” Smiling, Bett gave the mistress the flowers.

“Lizzie.” The mistress turned to me. “You see how thoughtful Bett is. Kindness goes a long way. After dinner, Bett, you can do my hair.”

I was in bed when Bett finally came from the mistress. I knew she was exhausted, so I pretended to be asleep. Without getting undressed, Bett lay down next to me and I felt her shake as silent sobs racked her body.