Tilla had cried ever since they were told that Eunice, their second oldest daughter, wouldn’t survive her third pregnancy. She had kept vigil with Eunice and her husband for the past week. John had stopped by periodically to see his ailing daughter and to comfort Tilla.
The first week in October had brought sunny skies and mild temperatures to Mount Hope, and John worked as much as he could on the farm to ensure a nice harvest in anticipation of the annual Thanksgiving Day dinner he and Tilla hosted. A few roosters crowed, and Tilla opened her tired eyes. It was Sunday, a day different from the cycle of rising, fixing breakfast, and staying with Eunice until nightfall. Maggie and Pearl fixed dinner for John and took plenty to Tilla and others who were at Eunice’s bedside.
After a breakfast of grits, sausage, and biscuits, John and Tilla left home and walked three blocks to Eunice’s house. They were dressed for church. John was turned out in black wool pants, a matching jacket, a crisp white shirt, black Oxford shoes, and a black derby, one of his many hats he had collected over the years from his favorite milliner. Tilla’s attire was more colorful. She wore a dress Theo gave her last Christmas: a floral-patterned drop waist chiffon dress that had velvet appliqués and small beads near the hem. Her hair was coiled in a chignon and was covered by a red cloche that belonged to Maggie.
The front door was open and John and Tilla went inside. The body heat from the number of people inside deadened the air. People were scattered in the kitchen and living room. John removed his jacket, and he and Tilla walked upstairs and into the bedroom shared by Eunice and Ernest.
Two windows in the bedroom were wide open. But little air came in. Eunice depended on two or three people to fan her with newspaper or cardboard. Tilla descried a cloth next to a bowl of water. She dipped it in the water, twisted the cloth to wring out some of the water, and then tapped her daughter’s forehead with it. With some effort, Eunice opened her eyes as Tilla looked at Eunice’s ashen face. Eunice’s lips quivered as they moved; Tilla recognized the strain and put an upright left forefinger to her mouth to tell Eunice not to talk.
John tapped Tilla on the arm to tell her they needed to head to church. Tilla walked out of the bedroom followed by John. Tilla said, “I can’t leave my baby now. You see the way she looks.”
But Tilla quickly changed her mind. Reverend Owen’s son had been murdered, and John and Tilla needed to be there to support him. And if they found a way to ask for an intercessory prayer for Eunice, they’d ask.
John stuck his head in the doorway and fingered for Ernest to see him. “Tilla’s a wreck. Are you okay if we go on to church? We’ll be back soon.”
“Pops, come whenever you can.”
John wondered about the last doctor’s visit. “Did the doctor come yesterday?”
Ernest’s mother had worked for Dr. Fennell, cleaning his house. Ernest called in a favor, and Dr. Fennell agreed to see Eunice. “Yeah, he was here yesterday morning for a short time. He said Eunice’s got a pretty bad infection.” He paused, adding: “He said it don’t look good.”
“Ernest, let me talk to you in private,” John said.
They moved away from Tilla. John continued: “This may not be my place to say, … but I understand you have an opportunity to send your wife to the hospital.”
Ernest’s eyes clashed with John’s eyes. He needed to be polite to his father-in-law. “People are telling me she can get into the hospital because she can pass for white.” Pointing to his dark skin, he added, “What them folks at the hospital gonna say when a colored man go to visit his wife?” Ernest looked at John, daring him to say that he didn’t have to go. John knew the trap had been set; he just nodded and rubbed Ernest on the shoulder.
“We’ll be back, Ernest. Maggie and Pearl will bring dinner.”
Church service was over. Reverend Owen had talked about the wicked person who had killed his son. And he prayed for Eunice’s recovery. But Tilla didn’t feel much lifted by his sermon. Her heart remained sunken, and she began to feel lonely, the way she felt when Claude didn’t return home.
John and Tilla were next in line to shake Reverend Owen’s hand. As the congregant in front of them moved on, they took a step forward. Reverend Owen leaned forward and Tilla extended her left cheek. He shook John’s hand.
John spoke first. “We’re so sorry about your boy.”
Tilla interjected: “It’s a shame the way he died; a shot to the head and all.”
“Where was he found?” John asked.
“Sheriff said his body was found in the field near Moulton and Leaves. He also said he was involved in the numbers business; said something about how they had an eye on him.”
John turned around and saw a few people waiting in line. He inched forward, but Reverend Owen moved to block his path. He had one more thing to say. Looking at both John and Tilla with a wide smile, he said, “I remember the day I married you. It was on a Wednesday; January 10, 1894, as I recall.” Tilla showed a glint of a warming emotion by smiling. She was always amazed at how well Reverend Owen could recall dates. “I just want to say thank you Deacon John and Sister Tilla. I’m going to continue to ask the good Lord to take care of Eunice. And I ask you to pray for me.”
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Maggie sat on the front Porch in John’s rocking chair, reading a magazine. “Hi, baby,” Tilla said as she and John walked up the porch steps.
“That’s my girl, always reading something,” John said.
“Ma, Pa, I’ve been thinking. There’s this lady they call the Medicine Woman from Birmingham; she delivers babies. She was featured in the paper a while back. She’s supposed to be real good. I say call on her; nothing to lose at this point.”
After discussing it with Ernest, he agreed to allow Minnie Pearl Walker, a well-known midwife that some called the Medicine Woman, to attend to his ailing wife. She needed help, and he wasn’t going to turn it down. She was at Eunice’s bedside within thirty-six hours after receiving the telegram.
Eunice’s health continued to decline. Bedsores now bothered her. While she slept, she gained a reprieve from the pain in her back. The window was open to provide ventilation.
Tilla and Ernest gave Minnie Pearl a run-down of Eunice’s health. Minnie Pearl nodded and felt her forehead. “A bit warm.”
Minnie Pearl reached into her worn valise and pulled out knit bone. She placed a poultice of it under Eunice as Ernest and Tilla rolled her over.
“What’s that for?” Ernest asked.
“It will help reduce her back pain and help with the bedsores,” Minnie Pearl said.
The knit bone seemed to work. Eunice had stopped wincing and moving in bed.
Eunice awoke an hour before dawn. Minnie Pearl remained at Eunice’s side, sitting in a rocking chair. “Ernest. Ernest, you there?” Eunice said.
“Your husband is sleeping on the couch,” Minnie Pearl said.
Eunice turned her head to follow the direction of the unfamiliar voice. “Who are you?”
“Minnie Pearl Walker’s my name.”
Eunice heard the answer but saw no one. She struggled to sit up in bed to turn on the light on the nightstand.
Minnie Pearl leaped up and moved toward the light. “Let me do that.”
Eunice looked at Minnie Pearl standing over her. She wore a blue boudoir cap that covered her hair. Her dress was a drab gray and fell to the floor. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate. Two of her bottom teeth were missing. Her eyes were soft and gentle.
Minnie Pearl saw the puzzled look on Eunice’s face. “It’s okay, dear. Your husband said it’s okay. I’m going to deliver your baby.”
“Where’re you from?” Eunice asked.
Minnie Pearl was happy that Eunice was talking, perhaps a sign that she was gaining strength. “Birmingham, I live in Birmingham.” Minnie Pearl felt Eunice’s forehead. She felt satisfied and nodded.
Eunice felt the life inside her move. She touched her stomach. A few seconds later, a parturient pang came along, and Eunice laid her hands on her stomach again.
Minnie Pearl continued to talk to Eunice to gauge her strength. Eunice’s face was no longer ashen. Minnie Pearl felt hopeful. She lifted the cover and looked between Eunice’s legs. Eunice winced. The contractions were starting.
Minnie Pearl offered an optimistic note: “When this baby’s born, you take care of him. Watch over all your children.” Eunice grimaced as though she had just hit her thumb with a hammer while pounding a nail.
Eunice managed a slight smile.
Time dragged on. It was six-thirty, and the house was still quiet except for the conversation in Eunice’s bedroom. Eunice grimaced and moaned with more birthing pangs. “I’m here, darling,” Minnie Pearl said as she held Eunice’s hand.
Ten seconds later, Eunice said, “I think the baby’s coming,” with labored breath, ready for the baby to be pushed out into the world. Minnie Pearl lifted Eunice’s blanket, observed what she had seen countless times when birth was near. She timed the contractions. They were ninety seconds apart. She reached in her medicine bag and pulled out several pieces of trillium. The roots had been boiled in milk.
“Open your mouth,” Minnie Pearl said. She placed the trillium on the right side of Eunice’s mouth.
“Don’t bite or chew it,” Minnie Pearl said.
“What’s it supposed to do?” Eunice mumbled.
“It’s going to help with your childbirth,” Minnie Pearl said. Eunice spit out the trillium and let out a loud scream, waking Ernest. Ernest ran to Eunice where he saw Minnie Pearl caressing Eunice’s left hand.
“Is she okay?” Ernest asked.
“The baby’s coming soon,” Minnie Pearl said.
Eunice’s face was twisted with pain, but he was happy to see her face had life in it.
As the time for delivery drew nigh, Minnie Pearl gave instructions to Eunice. “If you feel the need to push, resist it. Your contractions are still a bit too far apart for you to push. Save your energy for now. Look at me.” Eunice turned her head and looked. “I want you to pant like a dog, like this,” Minnie Pearl said demonstrating. “Do it.” Eunice did it and Minnie Pearl said, “Good girl.” After a few seconds, Minnie Pearl told her she could stop panting. “Now take deep breaths.”
Minnie Pearl returned to the rocking chair, and Ernest sat on the edge of the bed, holding his wife’s hand.
It was the loudest scream yet. “Okay, honey, do you feel the need to push?”
“Yes, real bad.”
“I’m going to start counting to time your contractions; each count represents one second,” Minnie Pearl said.
After a count of eighty, Eunice screamed again. “Do you feel like pushing?” Minnie Pearl asked.
“Yes!”
“Don’t. I’m going to start counting again.” The next scream came after twenty-five seconds. Minnie Pearl walked to the foot of the bed and lifted Eunice’s blanket and looked for signs that delivery was near.
“Keep your legs apart. Breathe slowly. Okay, now push. Give it all you got.”
Minnie Pearl saw the crown of the baby’s head. She placed her hand under the baby’s head, careful not to pull it, but to support the neck. “You’re doing good. Keep pushing.” The baby’s right shoulder came out next. Minnie Pearl continued to support the baby’s neck. The baby then turned left, allowing the left shoulder to come out. The baby slid out effortlessly and began crying immediately. She stroked the baby’s nose downward several times to remove mucous and amniotic fluid. She then wrapped the baby in a towel and placed the baby on Eunice’s chest, hoping the baby would begin to breastfeed.
The baby boy did not show an interest in breastfeeding. Minnie Pearl reached into her gripsack and retrieved a set of shoestrings. As she grasped the umbilical cord, the placenta flushed out. She then used a shoestring to tie the umbilical cord at four inches from the baby’s navel. She used another shoestring to tie the umbilical cord at eight inches from the baby’s navel. After an hour, she cut the cord with a sterile knife.
And after about another hour, the baby latched onto a nipple.
“I’m gonna stay here a little longer; make sure the baby and mother will be okay.” She handed Ernest a few sassafras leaves. “I want you to put these in boiling water. She’ll need this to drink.”
“What’s it for?”
Minnie Pearl had used it many times as a midwife and believed it helped. “It will help with her recover and keep bad things away.”
John and Tilla arrived within a couple of hours after the baby was born. Both lent effusive praise of gratitude to the medicine woman Maggie had recommended. “I don’t know what you did, but you worked a miracle,” Tilla said.
“Ah, thank the man up high,” Minnie Pearl said.
By one o’clock, the house began to fill with well-wishers. Minnie Pearl was satisfied that mother and baby would survive. She had to return to her children in Birmingham.
John, Tilla, and Minnie Pearl sat on the porch as they waited on her ride to the train station to take her home. John handed Minnie Pearl an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“It’s for your services.”
“Ernest already paid me.” She extended the envelope to John.
“No, you take this,” Tilla demanded. “You saved our daughter’s life.”
John stood up and shook his left leg to wring out the soreness in his knee. He went inside the house.
Minnie Pearl reached in her gripsack and retrieved knit bone. She handed it to Tilla and said, “Give this to John. It should help his knee feel better. Just use it to make tea.”
Tilla was curious about the contents of the gripsack. “What else is in there?”
“Oh, a bunch of things.” She pulled out a small jar.
Looking at the jar, Tilla said, “What’s that?”
“Mucuna leaves.”“What do they do?” Before Minnie Pearl could answer, Tilla said, “Let me guess; make tea with it.”
Minnie Pearl smiled and nodded.
“But what’s it for?”
“If you having a problem in bed, you and your husband drink it two hours before going to bed. Your husband may not fall asleep before he drops on the bed.” Tilla guffawed.
“Excuse me,” Minnie Pearl said. She stood up and walked off the porch.
“Where’re you going?”
“To look for Kirby.”
“Who is Kirby?”
Minnie Pearl told Tilla about Kirby’s disappearance when he was ten. Tilla’s eyes moistened. She told Minnie Pearl about Claude.
While waiting on Minnie Pearl’s ride, they walked a mile, calling the names of their lost boys.