CHAPTER 12
Red maple trees started to bud and spotted salamanders sneaked from their burrows in the pond bank by the end of February. I managed to get the plant bed ready for sowing tobacco seeds by burning off weeds to get some ash into the soil. March sunshine coaxed the smell of moist dirt from the ground as winter’s grip started to relax. April would be on us soon, and the real work of farming would begin.
On the last Sunday in March, I got back from morning chores expecting breakfast, but Grandma wasn’t up. She should have been getting dressed for church by now. I called through her bedroom door. “Grandma, you okay?”
“Be out in a minute.” Her voice sounded sort of weak and feeble. When she came into the living room she was wearing a heavy housecoat. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to skip church this morning. I ain’t feeling too good.” Her face was pale, and her blue eyes looked watery.
“What’s the matter?”
“Must be a touch of a cold coming on, didn’t sleep much and everything aches.” She gave me a look. “Thought I heard you up sort of late.”
I’d been with Fancy. “Had a bit of an upset stomach, probably all them collards I ate for supper.”
“Mix some vinegar and water if you need it.”
“Just a passing thing. Want me to cook you some eggs?”
“Do for yourself. I’m going to lay back down, probably feel better after a while.” I watched at the door while she got in bed. “Will you bring me another cover?” I got one of the homemade quilts from the closet. I’d seen her with cut hands, hurt knees, and her back so bad she could hardly walk, but I’d never seen her sick. She slept through the morning.
I was on the porch enjoying the early afternoon sunshine when I glanced toward the road and saw Fancy riding her bicycle. I stepped out to the yard. She had on a pair of bib overalls cut off at the knees. The bike slid to a stop in front of me. “Told you I might come see you one of these days. Got home from church and decided to ride over.”
“That’s a mighty nice bicycle.” Roy had given it a coat of shiny red paint and used a clothespin to attach a playing card in the spokes to make a chatter.
She hopped off. “Want to ride?”
“I’ll try.” It was hard getting the thing to go straight at first, but I soon got the idea and rode up and down the dirt road. I tried to make a sliding stop the way Fancy had and fell off. “Man, that’s fun.”
“Keeps a person from having to walk. How was church?” She straddled the bike while we talked.
I squatted, pulled a new grass sprout, and twirled it in my mouth. “Grandma was feeling bad so we stayed home. She ain’t got up all day, said she might be getting a cold.”
“Does she have a fever?”
“Don’t know, but she sure don’t feel good.”
Fancy pushed the kickstand down. “Can I go see? I can tell.”
I knocked on the bedroom door. “Grandma, Fancy’s come by to show me her bicycle, and wants to check if you got a fever. Is that all right?”
“Bring her in.” Her voice sounded weak.
Fancy went ahead of me. “Junebug says you ain’t feeling good, Miz Hurley.” She gently laid her palm on Grandma’s head, then the back of her hand to her temple and neck. “Seems real warm to me. You keep anything for a cold?”
“There’s some liniment in a green bottle in the kitchen cupboard. Show her, Junebug.”
We found the medicine. Grandma had a coughing spell, dry-heaving a little. “Junebug, go out for a minute so Fancy can rub it on my chest real good.”
Fancy came out and closed the door behind her. She didn’t say anything, but concern showed on her face. “I’m going to fix some soup so your grandma can eat something. She needs to keep her strength. Show me the canned vegetables and pots and such, and I’ll fix enough for supper while I’m doing.” We found jars of tomatoes, okra, butter beans, and got a little piece of salt pork from the refrigerator.
“You sure know your way around a stove.”
“Shoot, Momma’s been showing me how to cook since I could walk.” She stirred the soup, tasting before adding salt, pepper, and butter. “We need to let the flavors melt for a few minutes.” We sat while the pot boiled. “You keep an eye on her, Junebug. She’s got some fever and I don’t like the sound of that cough.” Fancy stirred and tasted one more time, then held up a big spoon to me. “What do you think?”
“Taste good to me.” She filled a small bowl and let it cool.
Fancy fixed the pillows so Grandma could sit up, and managed to get her to eat about half of it. “That hit the spot, Fancy. Your momma taught you good.” She pulled the quilt back around her neck.
“Oh, wasn’t no trouble. Plenty left in that pot for you and Junebug to have for supper. Be glad to come tomorrow and rub on more of that medicine?”
Grandma squeezed Fancy’s hand. “I appreciate it, but expect I’ll be better by then. Your folks probably got other things for you to do.”
“If you don’t feel better, send Junebug and I’ll bring some of the potions my momma keeps for sickness. They work real good.”
Out in the yard, Fancy cautioned, “Come and get me if you need to.”