Read Online Trouble's Child by Mildred Pitts; Walter - Free Book Online

“Yeah, I gotta.”
    She slipped into the house and went to her room. Now she was angry at herself for not being smarter. Maybe, if she had just listened Ocie would have talked.
    In her small room she looked at the walls that were neither papered nor painted. Dots of resin oozing from the pine boards looked like wild honey. Two box crates sat under the little window. One served as a chair and the other was covered with a red cloth. There were seashells and a tiny ebony wood elephant on top of it. The elephant, though old, was still black and shiny. Titay said it was a gift from a man who had come on a boat from the faraway Indian Ocean. Martha looked at these things without seeing them. She was too concerned with herself and what she had to do and with what she wanted to do.
    What were her choices? Maybe she could help Miss Boudreaux. Or she could make and mend fishing lines. She could join Beau and his family picking moss. She did not trust herself to prepare remedies from roots, leaves and herbs. She had too much fear and too many doubts.
    She lay still and remembered being on the boat. Then she imagined the boat moving slowly, slowly over waves way out into the Gulf. For a moment she forgot the fear, guilt and the misery of her responsibility. Somehow she knew she would leave this place. She would find a way. She would! She went to work on her math problems.
    Finishing that assignment made her happy. She went to find Titay. “Granma,” she called, “lemme know when yuh ready t’ make the rounds.”
    Each day now, Martha gathered the herbs and made the rounds with Titay. As she bandaged wounds, sponged feverish bodies and learned to treat measles and whooping cough, none of the women would have guessed she worked with doubt of her capabilities.
    There was always so much to do. Even now, as she walked to the commissary for kerosene, she felt rushed. The day was special when Ovide brought in new bolts of cloth and thread. Often on that day he gave a necklace, earrings or some other trinket to the first woman who made up her mind to buy a piece of cloth.
    Today was one of those days. The women were already waiting outside the commissary when Martha came along. They were all talking at once. But when Martha appeared, the chatter ceased.
    â€œMornin,” Martha said, to break the silence. “Mr. Ovide must bring many surprises tday, yes? He be late.” Ovide came by pirogue, from the same little town where Miss Boudreaux lived, bringing mail and other commodities each day. He went home the same way each night.
    The women laughed in anticipation and Ocie said, “You pick yo dress t’ wear t’ nounce yo quiltin, ahn?”
    Martha sensed meanness. That’s all they think bout — me gittin married .
    â€œOh, she’ll be makin a fine one, eh, Mat?” Gert said.
    â€œAnd that she deserves,” Alicia said, “with all the fellows waitin t’ scramble fuh her hand.”
    There was laughter, but Martha said nothing. She wished she had waited until later to come for the kerosene. She had too much on her mind for chatter about cloth, thread, quilting and dress patterns. She was about to go home when she saw Hal walking down the path from the Gulf.
    He wore his shirt open at the neck and held a long stem of grass between his teeth. Martha had forgotten how tall he was. Now his glowing ebony complexion underlined his well-being. He seemed in no hurry and though he was too far to hear the sighs and stifled giggles of the women, he walked as though he knew he was being watched.
    Martha pretended she was not even aware of Hal’s coming. But she quaked inside with the secret she and Hal shared. The women must never know she had been on his boat.
    â€œOh, that stranger. Ain’t he fine?” Alicia said, and winked. Even though Hal was now accepted by all, they still called him “the stranger.”
    â€œA fine ketch if ever I seed one,” Gert