Read Online A Parchment of Leaves by Silas House - Free Book Online

all was quiet for a long moment before people started clapping. While they did, I got up and went straight to her. I wanted to know somebody who could do something so beautiful.
    Serena was setting on the big rock that rose up out of our yard near the front steps. Saul had wanted to dig it out, but I wouldn’t let him. I liked the look of it, and when you ran your hand over it, there was always sand stuck to your palm.
    â€œThat give me an awful chill,” I said by way of announcing myself.
    â€œIt is scary,” she said, but she didn’t meet my eyes.
    â€œNo, I mean your voice. I never heard nothing so pretty.”
    She looked at me. “You a Indian, ain’t you?”
    â€œThat’s what they tell me. Cherokee.” I couldn’t tell if she was disgusted or happy by the look on her face.
    â€œI never knowed no Cherokee before. I’m happy to, though.”
    â€œYou’re Whistle-Dick Sizemore’s woman, ain’t you?”
    â€œNo. Whistle-Dick is my man,” she said, and laughed. Her laugh was the opposite of her singing: low and thick. “That man can’t drink nothing without passing out slicker than a ribbon.”
    â€œHe drunk a big lot of that homemade wine, I’ll tell you.”
    She waved a hand in front of her nose. “By the smell of your breath, I’d say you did, too.”
    â€œTonight’s the first time I’ve ever even tasted it,” I said. “I guess everybody here will think I’m a sight.”
    â€œHell, it ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve been known to take a sup or two.”
    I laughed and throwed my head back and realized that I was still a little bit drunk. And I never had heard a woman talk in such a way.
    â€œI’ve drunk with these old boys before. They’ll tell you—I could put Whistle-Dick under the table any day of the week. My daddy was real bad to drink, and he used to slip it to me when I was little. I guess I got a taste for it.” Serena smiled at me then, seeing my shock, but she didn’t comment on it. She ran her hand over her belly in a wide circle. “Them days is over, though.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œCan’t you tell I’m big?” I couldn’t even see a knot there to tip me off that she was pregnant. She had a deep curve of hip and a wide waist, but her stomach was flat as a plate. “I’d be afraid to drink anything and me carrying a baby. I know some midwives that say to take a sup ever now and then, but it can’t be good. It sure ain’t hindered Whistle-Dick none, though.” She nodded her chin toward her husband, who seemed to be sliding out of his chair and onto the floor of the porch. A crew of men setting on the yard laughed at him.
    â€œWell, if Betty Lester can’t get here in time, I might could help when the child comes. My mama is the midwife on Redbud Creek.”
    â€œOh no, honey,” Serena said. “I’m the midwife round these parts. Betty Lester won’t come all the way up in here. She taught me and has give this whole big creek to me.”
    â€œWell, you can’t deliver this baby yourself. She’ll have to come.”
    â€œI reckon you’ll do fine.”
    I laughed too loud again. “You’d trust me, just like that?”
    â€œYou’ve got the hands for it,” she said. She took one of my hands and flattened it out onto her palm, feeling of my fingers as if she was feeling for knots in my skin. She ground her thumb into the center of my palm. My hands were bigger than hers. For a minute I thought she might be a palm reader, the way she was studying it. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I believe you’ll do the best ever was.”
    â€œWell, I’ll sure be glad to help,” I said. “I hate that I ain’t been up to see you since you got back. I heard tell about your mommy dying. I sure do hate to hear