NINE

Martha got out of bed noiselessly. She carefully turned the wooden latch to lock her door. When she stooped to pick up her mirror she waited a moment. The silence told her she was right; Titay was still asleep. Quickly she removed the mirror and turned it to different angles so that the reflected sunlight played around the room.

In the light from the window, her dark skin glowed with tints of deep brown and red. She thought of Hal and how he had looked into her eyes. A warmth from deep inside sent a smile spreading over her face. What if Titay saw her smiling like that? Carefully she stored the mirror in its hiding place.

Dressing slowly, she heard voices from the front of the house. Titay said, “I come, right away.” Then she walked quickly to Martha’s door and knocked. “Git ready, Mat, that baby’s on its way heah tday.”

For the last few weeks they had spent lots of time with Cam. Only last week they had readied bedding for the birth. Sheets had been washed, boiled in a lye solution, ironed and carefully wrapped to keep them sterilized.

Martha’s hand trembled as she buttoned her blouse, and she had trouble tying her head scarf. She was anxious, excited, uncertain with feelings of joy, then fear. What if things did not go right for Cam? Should she tell Titay about the mirror? Titay might not let her go if she knew.

“Hurry, girl,” Titay called.

Cam was waiting. She had already put the carefully wrapped bedding in the oven to make sure it was still sterilized. Martha got busy helping the father feed the children before they started out to his sister’s house. On Blue Isle, the mystery of birth was for the eyes of women only.

The bed was made ready for Cam. Water was heated. Cotton and wool to wrap the baby in and the sterilized goose grease were put in place. Titay sat in the room with Cam while Martha finished a few housekeeping chores. Then Martha waited in the kitchen, reading for a history test.

Suddenly she realized how still the house was. No sounds came from the room. She thought of the mirror. Had something gone wrong? Things could go wrong, that she knew. Martha remembered the story she had been told of how her mother had died when she was born on that stormy night. Titay had been forced to make a terrible decision: would it be Martha or Martha’s mother who lived?

Martha trembled, charged with happiness that she was alive. That feeling changed to guilt and then to deep sorrow that she had never known her mother. She scolded herself for thinking things could go wrong. Cam was healthy. Titay had watched over her diet, her exercise and knew every stage of the unborn baby’s development. Yet Martha prayed that all would go well.

She tried to concentrate on her assignment, but her mind wandered with worry.

At last Titay came for her. “Come, hep me now. That lil one’s on its journey, so be quiet and still.”

The curtains were drawn and the room was lighted by a lamp at the foot of the bed. Martha saw Cam’s face drawn in pain, but no sound came from her lips.

Titay whispered, “Hep yo chile, chile’ll hep you.”

Cam’s breathing and Titay’s whispers became one rhythm. The room was very quiet. Martha heard her heart beat as she watched the two women. Cam grabbed Titay’s hand and held on. Titay gave of her strength.

Soon Titay whispered, “Now.” Martha saw that the baby’s head and shoulders were coming. Titay placed a finger under each little arm and lifted the baby up.

The baby let out a cry and Martha said, “It’s a boy.”

“Sh, sh!” Titay whispered as she clamped the cord and carefully placed the baby face down, his arms and legs folded, on the mother’s belly. He rested there.

The baby was so quiet Martha felt something was wrong. She held her breath. She wanted to say, “Do something, Titay,” but Titay just waited.

Cam’s hands touched her baby lightly. Martha watched Cam caress the small dark body against her flesh and thought of the waves of the Gulf touching the shore. The mother’s breathing was the only sound heard in the room. Suddenly the baby moved. First an arm, then a foot, then he quivered; he breathed! Titay smiled. Her face in the lamplight brightened and she looked young.

The strange quiet, the baby’s movement, the mother’s breathing, Titay’s smile—all these things touched Martha. She stood still, her eyes unable to turn away. A slow rising surge of joy passed through her. It stayed for only a second. She had never known such joy and was saddened that it could not last.

With swift precision Titay cut the cord that connected the baby to its mother. Until now Martha hadn’t really seen Titay’s hands. What beautiful hands, wrinkled with age, but soft and sure. How gently they touched that baby as she cleaned him and wrapped him in the layers of cotton and wool to keep him warm. Then she sent Martha for Cam’s husband.

When they left the happy mother and son, Titay said to the father, “Leave em lone awhile t’ git quainted and t’ rest.”

In the twilight of day, Martha looked at her grandmother. She was an old woman now, tired after her day’s work. But as if she knew what Martha was thinking, Titay said, “Tis joy, Mat, t’ bring one o’ them lil ones safe through that dark t’ light and life.”