It took a month to go from Monroe County to Montgomery, Alabama. By the time they made it to Montgomery, Louella could go no farther. Pain doubled her over as it shot through her belly again and again. “It’s not time yet.”
Mama Sue told William, “It’s time when the babe say it’s time.”
She was a little over seven months pregnant. She needed to carry this baby at least another month. But no matter how much she protested, Louella could do nothing but succumb to the natural course of things.
They found an abandoned barn that smelled of death and decay and made camp. The men pulled a dead cow out of the barn, and then Louella was brought in and laid on a pile of hay.
William paced outside the barn, and Louella yelled and screamed bloody murder. “I’m dying! I swear ’fore God, I’m dying!” The baby ripped her apart with each and every push.
Mama Sue fussed, “This child gotta come out. You been pushing too long.”
“What’s wrong? Why won’t it come out?” Abigail asked.
Mama Sue and Abigail were tending to her. Abigail wiped the sweat from Louella’s forehead, but neither of them gave response to her query.
“Push, Louella,” was all Mama Sue said.
But there was something in her grandmother’s eyes. A foreboding that Louella had never seen before. Louella pushed, but the baby had stopped kicking.
Mama Sue and Abigail grabbed hold of the child’s head and shouted, “Push!” again.
Louella bore down with all her might and shouted, “Argh!” as she gave a push so strong that the baby gushed out from her body. Louella’s head flapped back against the straw. It was done. She wanted to rejoice, but she hadn’t heard the cry yet.
Exhaustion claimed Louella. She couldn’t lift her head from the straw she was lying against. She rolled her head to the right. Mama Sue had the baby in her arm, pouring water on it and wiping fluids away. Drifting . . . eyelids heavy. “What did I have?”
Abigail gave her a woeful smile. “A little girl.”
“A girl? Bring her to me.” Louella lifted her arms, but Mama Sue backed away.
Her grandmother told Abigail, “Go get Reverend William.”
“What’s going on . . . What’s the matter?” Louella squirmed against the hay, wanting to get up, but her body betrayed her.
When William stepped into the barn, Mama Sue whispered something to him, and then he came to sit with Louella. But Louella’s eyes weren’t on William. Mama Sue backed out of the barn with the baby close to her bosom.
“Bring her to me. I want to hold her.”
As the barn door closed, William’s shoulders rolled forward. “Thing is,” he began. His voice cracked and he sniffed. “Th-the baby . . . didn’t make it.”
Her eyes squinted as she tried to make sense of what he’d said. “Huh?”
He repeated those foul words. “The baby didn’t make it.”
Her breath caught in her throat as if she’d been punched. She sobbed. Squirming, she tried to get up, but William held her down.
“Don’t do too much moving. You lost a lot of blood and need to rest.”
“Where’s my baby?”
“I’m so sorry, beloved. Our precious little girl is with God. We can take heart that we’ll see her again someday.”
A guttural explosion of pain and why-me clawed its way up her throat and spilled out. She didn’t want to wait to see her child in the sweet by-and-by. She wanted to wrap her in her bosom and love her like she deserved. God was always making mistakes when it came to the things that mattered to her. Through clenched teeth she moaned, “I. Want. My. Baby.”
“It’s best to let them bury her.”
Louella’s eyes went wild. “No! No! You can’t do that. You can’t put my baby in the ground without letting me hold her—like she doesn’t matter.” Tears blurred her sight. She touched her heart. “Like she meant nothing to us.”
The barn door opened again. Louella wiped the tears from her face as Mama Sue brought her baby back in. Tears ran down her grandmother’s face as she put the babe on Louella’s chest. “I’m sorry, my sweet Louella.”
“Take the baby back. It’ll be better if she doesn’t see her,” William said.
But Mama Sue shook her head. “I know my granddaughter. Louella needs this.”
Her little brown baby’s eyes were closed, her lips turning purple, but she was still beautiful to Louella. This baby thoroughly possessed her heart . . . and broke it. A fresh tear dropped on the baby’s face. Louella wiped it away, but there was plenty more to come.
William kissed the back of her neck as sorrow filled her soul. “I know it hurts. I’m hurting too. But we’re going to get through this together.”
“How?” The question eked out of her as clouds of sadness descended, drenching her in loss. Then rain beat down on the barn as if the sky was crying with her.
William took the baby from her.
“No! Give her back.”
Taking a moment to look at his baby, William said, “I’m going to miss you, little one.”
“She needs a name. You can’t just dismiss her without a name.”
“Of course she needs a name.” He bit down on his lip. “It needs to be something beautiful. Something . . .”
“Lily. Her name is Lily,” Louella told him.
He stood, handed the baby back to Mama Sue. “Thank you for letting us spend some time with our sweet Lily.”
Mama Sue closed her eyes real tight for a moment, then backed out of the barn, breaking Louella’s heart all over again.
* * *
Louella hadn’t eaten in the last three days. Mama Sue and William kept trying to feed her, but all she wanted to do was lie in the barn and sprinkle pity and sorrow on herself.
“Your food is getting cold,” William told her.
Louella turned her face to the wall. Children were running around outside; she let the sound of their laughter linger in her ears while anguish streamed down her face, turning her cheeks into cascades of unbearable grief.
“Talk to me.”
But she couldn’t, wouldn’t turn to him . . . couldn’t share this pain.
“You won’t talk to me, huh? Well, I know who you’ll talk to.” William left the barn, and within a few seconds, Mama Sue entered.
She put a hand on Louella’s forehead. “Praise the good Lord . . . no fever.”
“I’m not sick.”
“I know, dearest. You’re sad . . . and sometimes that’s worse than sick. I been where you are, so I know.”
Sighing deeply, she asked, “How did you go on?”
“Some days I wonder if I did go on, or if I’m still trapped in the horror of all that happened to us.”
Louella turned to face her grandmother. Her eyebrow lifted. “But you’re always so strong. I never even saw you cry when Mama was taken from us.”
Mama Sue nodded. “I had to be strong for you and your brother. I couldn’t fall apart when y’all needed me.” She put a hand on Louella’s shoulder. “I know you’d lay here forever if you could, but the people need you. You’ve made us believe that things will be better for us on the other side of this journey. But they’re losing hope as this journey becomes more difficult.”
“Let William talk to them. I want to lay here, Mama Sue. I need to be still. Can’t you understand that?”
“I do, dearest. I do.”
Wallowing in pity was her due. She wanted Lily—wanted to be a mother. But later that day as the people gathered outside the barn, she heard someone say, “We’re running out of food.”
Another said, “Louella losing that baby and us running out of food might be a bad omen.”
“What you talking ’bout?”
“Talking ’bout going back to the Montgomery Plantation and seeing if they’ll let me do some sharecropping.”
As far as Louella was concerned, that was crazy. She would never turn back to her captors. How could they even think about going back to what God had brought them out of? The fact that she might be the cause of them thinking such foolery was beyond her.
Then she heard a voice that she recognized to be Robert’s say, “I might be tempted to head back to my farm if a few men would come and help me with the land.”
Later, when William came to sit with her, he brought a bowl of potato soup. Louella slowly raised herself up and leaned her back against the wall of the barn. She took the soup from her husband. “I heard someone say we’re running low on food.”
“We had a few complications. The hunting hasn’t been good in this location, but we did find some potatoes.” He pointed to her bowl, encouraging her to eat.
Louella ate a spoonful.
“A new family joined our camp today. They said a lot of freed men and women are going hungry in these parts.”
“They’re coming with us?” Louella asked as she sipped her soup.
William nodded.
“Do they have a useful trade?”
William’s lips tightened.
“What’s wrong with my query?”
“I told you the family’s going hungry. They don’t want to join with us; they need to join with us.”
Louella put her bowl down and placed a hand on William’s thigh. “I’m not coming against your decision to allow them to travel with us, but I believe so much in this idea of a society where everyone pitches in and everyone is rewarded for their efforts.”
“So do I,” William retorted.
Louella lifted a hand. “If we’re going to build the type of society your mother told you about, then we’ll all need to be in accord. And everybody needs to have a skill that can benefit our community. That’s all I’m saying.”
“What makes you think we’re not in accord?”
She pointed toward the interior barn walls. “These walls are thin.”
William lowered his head, averted his eyes. “Some bandits broke into the camp last night. They stole some of our food and supplies.”
“Why didn’t you or Mama Sue tell me about that?”
“You have enough worries.”
Louella held out her hands to him. “Help me up.”
William stood. “You need to rest. I’ll go and see about the grumbling.”
“No, William. I need to go out there with you. The people are grumbling against me.” She wanted to tell him that she heard his brother trying to get some of the people to go work on his farm, but the last time she said something about Robert, William had become cross with her.
When William didn’t reach for her hands but stood there looking as if he was ready to put his foot down and command her to lie back down, Louella said, “Do you want the group to split up?”
William’s forehead crinkled. “No, of course not.”
“Well, someone out there”—she jutted her thumb backward—“is encouraging people to leave and go back where we came from.”
“That doesn’t make sense. What could I have done to make them want to go back to bondage?”
Still holding her hands out, she told him, “You’ve done no wrong, William. The people say I’m a jinx. I heard it with my own ears.” She pointed at the walls again. “I’ve laid around too long. It’s clear to me that it’s time for us to move on.”
“But you’re not healed yet.” His eyes held concern. “We can take grumbling bellies a few more days.”
Her heart warmed all over, knowing the things William would endure for her. But she had never doubted his love. It was the Judas in the camp talking bad about her that got her blood to boiling. She reached out her hands again to William. “Help me up. We should talk to them together.”
He took her hands and lifted her from the ground. A pull at the bottom of her stomach sent her mind on a journey of misery. Her hand touched the emptiness of what once possessed her baby girl, Lily. That was who she would always be to Louella. Her precious little Lily in the valley.
“Are you okay?”
Putting a hand on William’s shoulder, she gave him a lopsided grin. “Right as rain.” But the truth was, Louella doubted she’d ever be okay again. “Let me lean on your big, strong arm.”
He smiled at that, then settled her close to him while putting a hand under her arm. They then walked out of the barn. Three days of lying on that straw, digesting the fact that she had lost her baby and finding the will to face each new day, was enough.
“He’s a wood carver.”
Louella’s eyebrow jutted up. “Huh? Who’s a wood carver?”
“The new guy. His wife does housekeeping.”
A grin spread across Louella’s face. How they could use a wood carver was beyond her, but the fact that William provided the information meant everything.
“Gather ’round, everyone,” William said as they all came together around the wood-burning firepit.
The nights were colder now that winter had swept in. Blankets were being used at night and thrown back into the wagon during the warmth of daylight. Louella didn’t know how many more seasons they would journey through or what else might be lost on their journey, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet.
William squeezed her hand as he said, “These last few months have been more than a notion. But we ask for your patience as we allow God to lead us to the place He has prepared.”
“How much longer?” one of the men yelled from the back. “My family can’t take much more. At least we had a roof over our heads on the Montgomery Plantation.”
“A roof that leaked.” Louella wagged her finger as she said, “When y’all start reminiscing about the good old days of servitude, remember that I served with y’all, so I know it wasn’t sweet.”
“But we aren’t making any money. How we gon’ replace the food those bandits stole?”
Louella looked over at William. He shrugged as if he was fresh out of ideas. She then saw Robert. He was chewing on a piece of straw as he made his way toward them. She wasn’t going to allow that man to act like the savior-come-down-from-the-cross, so she said, “We can sell my liniment. There has to be some cities nearby where we can peddle a few tins.”
Eyes full of desperation looked back at her. She wouldn’t let them down. “I need a few ladies to help me get the mixture together, then we’ll be back in business in no time.”
Abigail raised her hand and stepped forward. “I’ll help.”
Clara did the same, along with Mama Sue and Mirabel.
William clasped his hands together. “We’ll let them work on the liniment, and . . .”
Larry lifted a basket full of fish. “I could use a few hands to clean the fish we caught today.”
William said, “Okay, now we need a group on fish-cleaning duty, and I need another group to start loading up these wagons. We’re heading out in the morning.”
Shouts of “Hurray!” and “Hallelujah!” went up to the heavens.
Femi stepped forward. Standing next to Abigail, he took off his hat, cleared his throat, and puffed out his big broad chest. “Reverend William, Abigail and I love each other dearly, and we’d be right proud if you’d marry us.”
Louella lifted her hands in praise. “Finally, some good news around here.”
Robert took the straw stick out of his mouth. Threw it to the ground and then stalked off.
William said, “I’d be happy to marry the two of you.”
“Thank you kindly, sir.” Femi then pulled Abigail into his arms and gave her a kiss that showed he was ready to claim his husbandly benefits.
William grinned at the display of affection. “Hold on, young man. We need to take care of our chores before we can get to the ceremony, so save all of that for later.”
The group laughed. Then everyone went about doing the work that had been assigned. Abigail came into the barn with Louella, Mama Sue, Mirabel, and Clara. As they worked on the mixture for the rheumatoid liniment, Louella noticed that Abigail’s hands were shaking.
“You ain’t said nary a word since Femi told us y’all was getting wed.” Louella kept an eye on the girl.
Abigail twisted her lips as she looked away from them. “Just nervous is all. After my first owner forced himself on me so many times, I don’t know if I can join with another man without cringing inside.”
Mirabel turned Abigail to face her. “Now you listen here. What your former owner did to you wasn’t no kind of love. That’s why you felt shame ’bout being with him. But the shame belongs to the man who done stole what wasn’t his.”
Mama Sue said, “If you truly love Tommy—”
“Femi. He wants to be called Femi,” Louella corrected.
Mama Sue waved that off. “Whatever.” She continued, “If you truly love what’s-his-new-name, then you’ll love being in his arms.”
Tears were in Abigail’s eyes. She wiped them away. “I do love Femi. I tried my hardest not to love him. Honestly, I never thought I could love a man because of all the hate I felt for my first owner, but Femi won my heart.”
Louella knew firsthand how hate could fester and spread like wildfire. William promised to show her how to love, but that was too great a weight to put on his shoulders. No man could give what she must get from God.
Louella put a hand over Abigail’s, her eyes filled with compassion. “If you love him, then let that guide you. But don’t expect him to heal all your wounds. Give those to God.”
Abigail wrapped her arms around Louella and hugged her tight. “Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t thank me. Live your life, and don’t look back.” Louella exhaled as she tried to take her own advice.
“I’m sorry about the baby,” Abigail said.
“Me too.” Louella closed her eyes, blocking out the pain that wanted to swallow her whole. She would be leaving a part of her heart in Montgomery, Alabama. A tear rolled down her face, but when she reopened her eyes, her mind was set on looking forward. “Let’s go get you married.”
After the wedding, William lay on the straw bed next to Louella and held her tight while she cried. His strong arms had always brought her comfort. These last few days had been filled with pain. His love and concern melted away some of the pain. The sadness would be with her, but on their last night in Montgomery, the smallest light broke through the darkness of her heart.