THREE

The Gulf was calm, and the murmur of the waves seemed to be whispering a blessing on the day of Ocie’s wedding. Martha slept late. When she awoke, the sun was hot in a cloudless sky.

She lay in bed wondering how she would fill her days now. She wouldn’t have Ocie. With Tee in her life, Ocie would have much more in common with the married women.

Oh, if only she could leave this place. She wished she had talked more to the teacher, had tried to create some plans. But going to high school would mean being away from home for months. Suddenly she recalled that snake sliding off into the brush. Who’d look after Granma? Wish I had a big family.

Martha had never known her mother. Her father, Titay’s youngest son, had drowned in the Gulf before she was five years old. He was now only a faint memory. Then she thought, There’s Beau and gittin married. But she quickly put that out of her mind.

If only there was someone who understood her. She was only fourteen, and her life was already over. Silly! There was still a lot to do. There was the fishing festival only two months away. Who’s gon lead em dancin down t’ the sea? Titay, probly. Hard t’ blieve Granma so old. She’s led that dancin since I can member.

The church bell rang.

Martha was still in bed when Titay called, “You ready in there?”

“I’m comin, but you go on, Granma.” She was glad now that she had decided to wear the pale blue voile dress that had belonged to her mother. Though the sheer cotton was more than fourteen years old, it was still lovely and fitted her just right. She wished she had a wide, soft straw hat like the one the teacher wore in the sun. Titay’s parasol would have to do.

The green of the trees was deep and solid and shining under the brilliant silver sky. Stepping lively on the trail, Martha admired her tall lean shadow, sheltered by the small parasol. As she walked along enjoying the sounds and fervor of her island, she forgot that moments before she had thought her life over.

Near Ocie’s house Martha’s excitement increased. All of Ocie’s family were getting in line for the wedding march to the church. Suddenly Martha wished she had gone earlier to see if her friend needed anything: something borrowed, maybe. Then she saw Ocie with her father. Ocie looked nervous, but pretty.

From a distance Martha watched the march begin, knowing she had plenty of time. Ocie and her family would take the long route to the church that passed many houses. Anyone unable to attend the ceremony could see the bride and wish her happiness.

The church was already crowded when Martha arrived. Titay was in a place right down front. With a magnolia blossom in her hair, she looked prouder than the parents. After all, she had delivered both Tee and Ocie, which gave her special claim. Martha was happy there was still a seat in the back pew.

Soon the bridal party arrived. Ocie walked through the church followed by all of her family. She no longer looked nervous. Now she was beaming. Smiling shyly at Tee as he waited with his family behind him, she leaned toward him and lost her balance. Tee caught her and hugged her close. There were sounds of appreciation for the beauty of the scene.

“Who gi’e this woman in marriage?” The preacher’s voice boomed. The ceremony was underway.

There was a long silence. Ocie’s father had tears in his eyes. What he thinkin? Ocie was his only daughter and she was young. Just fifteen.

When Ocie’s father couldn’t speak, her mother spoke up and said, “I do.”

Suddenly Martha could not hold back her tears. Who would answer for her? I ain’t got nobody but Titay. We can’t even make a weddin party. She swallowed again and again to stifle her sobs.

But weddings are for fun, and Ocie’s was well planned for just that. Her father came alive as he and Ocie’s brothers played never-ending music. There was loud talk and laughter as people enjoyed the many dishes. Just as Tee’s father was the island’s best fisherman, his mother was the finest cook. There were fresh shrimp, tubs of crawfish, lots of Gert’s gumbo and rice and many delicious cakes, puddings and pies.

The celebration lasted far into the night with everyone dancing, including Titay. Martha, catching the rhythm of the drums, rocked the party with her movements. There were whispers: “She will take Titay’s place, sho, and lead the festival.”

Martha woke drenched. Her little room seemed without air. She got out of bed and was surprised to find no sun. A heavy fog hung over the island. The quiet frightened her until she realized that it was already noon, dinnertime.

Titay was making her rounds visiting the sick. Martha went into the kitchen feeling drained by the heat. Titay had left a covered plate on the table. Curious, Martha lifted the cover. Cake! Leftovers from Ocie’s wedding. She could not resist—one piece, then two. The cake made her thirsty.

She went outside to fill the water pail, but it was so hot, she sat under the pump letting the water stream over her. Then she drank and drank. It was a great effort to move. Before she had changed her dripping clothes, she was hot again. Feeling worn, she decided to go back to bed.

When she awoke, the fog had gone; the sinking sun left the sky aglow.

“What’d you do tday? You ain’t even swept the flo, no?” Titay was preparing supper.

“It be too hot, Granma.” Martha got busy to help finish the meal. They ate in silence, and while Martha put food away and washed the dishes, Titay went to sit outside. Soon Martha smelled the smoke from rags set out to smolder and keep mosquitoes away. Voices of people who came for advice or just to talk briefly with Titay drifted to her.

Before she had finished the dishes, Titay called in the voice she always used to summon Martha for serious talk. “Mat, come heah.”

Martha stood in the doorway.

“C’mon, sit, girl.”

The smoke curled up and spread out, stinging Martha’s eyes and nose. There was silence between them.

“Ocie had good weddin, yes?” Titay finally said.

“Eveybody had good time, yes. Know I did.”

“They liked yo dancin. They all say how good you look and what woman you is now. So I think tis time fo you t’ start thinkin bout yo life work. I’m old, Mat. Done kept the way o’ this island. I gather herbs, wait on the sick. Peoples look t’ me fo midwifin. I hope yuh ready t’ take m’ place.”

The warm sticky sweat that had bothered Martha all day suddenly chilled. She shivered.

“You mus git ready fuh yo quiltin. I’ll vite the whole island and show yo patten. They’ll know yo hand’s out fuh marryin.”

Martha felt the muscles tighten in her throat. She sucked in her breath, fighting the feeling of suffocation. Across the way in the dark, small houses stood in rows. The light of the stars was strong and bright. The night was filled with sounds, and with the smells of flowers, of the Gulf and of wet and dry things. Suddenly she felt a surge of love for this place.

She longed to tell her grandmother that she didn’t want to be married, not now. There was no one on Blue Isle she wanted as a husband. But how could she say she would not have quilting parties, would not marry? She knew of no one who had not.

Titay went on. “You’ll like yo patten. I dreamed this one befo you’s bo’ned. I see this plain piece wid five rings in the cener locked t’ one nother, making a design in the middle o’ the rings. Twas so clear that I knowed it would make a beautiful quilt patten. And I prayed fuh a girl chile t’ come in this family. God blessed me only wid sons. And they all been gift t’ the Gulf. Oh Mat, tis you that keep me goin. I’ll teach you so you can take m’ place and keep the way.”

“But Granma … can’t we wait awhile?”

“Why wait, girl?”

“Cause, Granma. I thought … well, I’m thinkin … I wanna go way.”

“Go way where?” Titay snapped.

“T’ high school, mebbe.”

“You done finish school. Now you learn from me. We gather herbs and seaweed. We make the rounds, visit the sick. I’ll learn yuh all you need know.”

A voice came out of the darkness. “Titay, we smell yo smoke way yonder, and we yearn fuh yo talk.” It was Alicia.

“Can we sit wid y’all?” Gert asked.

“Welcome,” Titay said.

“Cora by yo house, yes?” Gert asked.

“Cora LaRue?” Titay was surprised. “No, not heah, no.”

“We jus seen er, yes. She move quick thout sayin the time o’ day t’ us,” Gert said.

“Not heah, no. Passin, mebbe. Come, sit.” Titay seemed glad that they had come.

Martha was glad. They gave her time. As soon as the women started talking about children, eggs and chickens, she excused herself.

She went to her small room and lay on her bed, and her grandmother’s words disturbed her more and more. Yo hand’s out for marryin … I’ll teach yuh … we make the rounds … keep the way of the island.

No, no, no, Martha thought. She had to get away. But to where? She had never been off the island and she had no one but Titay. She had known that Titay depended upon her to become the midwife long before the words were spoken, but now Titay’s hopes were stated and could not be ignored. If she didn’t become the midwife, Cora would.

Slowly Martha undressed in the darkness and got into bed. The sound of the Gulf in the distance did not soothe her.