Day Seventeen
"Joshua Peterson, mind your manners!"
"Yes, Granny." Woody seemed to enjoy me being chided. I didn't think it was funny one little bit. I also didn't really find his interest in my ghosts amusing at this particular moment for I knew what would follow. True to form, my ancient grandmother adjusted her blue cotton shawl, shifted aimlessly between her feet while looking for a place about my friend's magnificent dirty face to settle her gaze and, once finding it, his stone eyes no doubt, made up her mind to fill him in on just why she thought I could see ghosts.
"You have a strong character, boy, a unique aura about ya, like you can understand things," she said as her massively inflated behind found its seat. Woody sat in rapt attention. I, on the other hand, rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. It's a good thing my Granny didn't see this move, she was too focused on Woody's stone eyes to see much else.
"And it seems to me," she continued, "that my grandson more than trusts you, that he invests all of himself into that faith he has in you. Yes, I sense that very very strongly. And it's for that reason that I'm about to tell you this. "
There was a sudden stillness in the room, as if time stopped for a moment. The heat seemed to slowly creak from beneath the door frames, wispy fingers entering into our house, grabbing hold to the secrets that were to be revealed. I was not frightened, but I sensed that Woody suddenly began to feel it, that feeling that I had sensed my whole life, that feeling that we were not alone.
"Joshua stormed into this world something fierce!" She shook when she spoke as if reliving the memory, and the entire frame of the wood splintered table rattled with her. "A month before his time he showed up. His mother, my baby girl Dorothea, was the last of my surviving children. She had been having wicked dreams near the end. Said she saw death. Saw it like a man from the city with gold on his hands. She said when she dreamed she saw this man and he would come around, smiling that guile smile, showing his pearly whites, like was all good and clean. But my Dorothea knew better. I always told her, 'when you don't know no better, trust the dirt. You know that's real, that's of the earth. When you don't see nothing you recognize, run!' So she knew that this clean black man with pearly whites wasn't from around here, even in her dreams she knew this. With his tailored jacket and his shiny shoes, she knew he meant no good. She didn't know it was death at the times, until one night he came around in her dreams and instead of coming to her, she said it was something different. He'd always show up, smiling from here to Sunday, hat in his hand, and ask if he could come in. Being as he was something charming alright, and being as this was a dream, she really couldn't help herself none. Her legs trembled so much when he came in, she could barely stand. He'd put his big hot hand on the side of her face and look into her eyes real close, and that's when she would see it. His eyes would glaze over and become pure black and she could see the end of her life. But this night, this one dream, this last dream, it was different. He came in and her legs trembled, just like all those times before, she told me. He came in and he didn't put his hand on her face. He put his hand on her stomach. And she looked down and her belly was full and bleeding and his hand was pushing through her. And he laughed. She said he laughed so horribly it would make even the dead turn frigid. That's when I woke her up. See I was over there, down yonder," she pointed down the hall, "sleeping in my room when I heard her scream. I thought the end of the world had come and she had had a vision of it, she screamed so! Like there was shards of glass cutting her every vein, her screamed pierced me so! But when I shook her woke, she told me of her dream. I had to rock her for a mighty long time to calm her down some, cuz she knew then death meant to come for her unborn child. I had always told her it was a sin to have conceived that child, but Lord knows I would have done anything in this world to make sure that child was alright. I rocked her in my arms, my Dorothea, this last child of mine, and when she had finally calmed down some, she looked up at me and she said 'mama?' She said it so wearily. I said, 'yeah, baby?' And she looked at me real hard and then she said, 'it hurts!' I was holding her so tightly that I hadn't felt it, but something caused me to look down at that moment and I saw that blood was pouring all down her legs and I knew that was no good. I called the ambulance right away. When we got to the hospital, she was screaming louder than I'd ever heard anybody scream. The doctor and all the nurses could barely work around all that noise. They gave her some needles but she kept on screaming. The baby, they said, was breech. And it was coming. Whether it was his time or not, he was coming. They had to cut her open. They put her to sleep so that they could cut her open and rescue her dying child. They put her to sleep ... and she never woke up again. That's how Joshua came into this world, on the entrails of his mother's life. This child that came into the world so savagely, was so small, so small he fit in the palms of the doctors hands, so small and so gentle ... and so deathly quiet. They didn't think he would see the light of day. But this baby here? Oh no, he saw the light. Somehow, he saw the light and the dark."
"And that's why he can see the ghosts? Because he was born in death?" Woody asked suddenly, scratching the timbre of the record my grandmother's voice had become.
"Yes, child. I knew you would understand. But there's more to the story!" And this was the part that made me cringe. "You see, our family has always been cursed."
"Cursed?" Woody asked, intrigued. "Cursed by who?"
"My grandfather worked for a man, a white man, tending to his fields. Right here in Mississippi in fact. See, these were newly free times back then and my grandfather was a free man. He got paid a wage to tend those fields and it was a respectable work for him to be doing. The white man of that plantation, he had himself a real nice family. Lovely wife and five beautiful children. But he also had a secret. There was a rumor among the workers that he had a mistress too, a black mistress, which in those times was something that happened rather regular, but it was not something you wanted known. He had four children by her, and they was rumored to be living on the grounds and working for him. Now this was the workers rumors mind you. They were all rather light complected negro children, so most of the free men found these rumors could be true. Well, one night my grandfather and his friends, after a long hot day of working in the sun for this white man, had themselves a good ole time at the workers' house. The lady of the house, her name was Esthra, she was so beautiful that all the men wanted her. But none of them could have her. She was never seen with any of those men and it was largely believed it was because she was the white man's property. Now, son, you're too young to hear all the details of what went on that night, I don't want your mind to be filled with such things. But in the end, the house burned down to the ground. Everybody got out alright - my grandfather, his friends and Esthra who had passed out. They were so drunk it was all they could do to stumble out of their alive themselves. When Esthra came around, she was in my grandfathers arms. She saw the ashes of her house and turned to my granddaddy and asked him where her children were. Where were her babies, her four babies who had been asleep in the upper room.
"Yes, Granny." Woody seemed to enjoy me being chided. I didn't think it was funny one little bit. I also didn't really find his interest in my ghosts amusing at this particular moment for I knew what would follow. True to form, my ancient grandmother adjusted her blue cotton shawl, shifted aimlessly between her feet while looking for a place about my friend's magnificent dirty face to settle her gaze and, once finding it, his stone eyes no doubt, made up her mind to fill him in on just why she thought I could see ghosts.
"You have a strong character, boy, a unique aura about ya, like you can understand things," she said as her massively inflated behind found its seat. Woody sat in rapt attention. I, on the other hand, rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. It's a good thing my Granny didn't see this move, she was too focused on Woody's stone eyes to see much else.
"And it seems to me," she continued, "that my grandson more than trusts you, that he invests all of himself into that faith he has in you. Yes, I sense that very very strongly. And it's for that reason that I'm about to tell you this. "
There was a sudden stillness in the room, as if time stopped for a moment. The heat seemed to slowly creak from beneath the door frames, wispy fingers entering into our house, grabbing hold to the secrets that were to be revealed. I was not frightened, but I sensed that Woody suddenly began to feel it, that feeling that I had sensed my whole life, that feeling that we were not alone.
"Joshua stormed into this world something fierce!" She shook when she spoke as if reliving the memory, and the entire frame of the wood splintered table rattled with her. "A month before his time he showed up. His mother, my baby girl Dorothea, was the last of my surviving children. She had been having wicked dreams near the end. Said she saw death. Saw it like a man from the city with gold on his hands. She said when she dreamed she saw this man and he would come around, smiling that guile smile, showing his pearly whites, like was all good and clean. But my Dorothea knew better. I always told her, 'when you don't know no better, trust the dirt. You know that's real, that's of the earth. When you don't see nothing you recognize, run!' So she knew that this clean black man with pearly whites wasn't from around here, even in her dreams she knew this. With his tailored jacket and his shiny shoes, she knew he meant no good. She didn't know it was death at the times, until one night he came around in her dreams and instead of coming to her, she said it was something different. He'd always show up, smiling from here to Sunday, hat in his hand, and ask if he could come in. Being as he was something charming alright, and being as this was a dream, she really couldn't help herself none. Her legs trembled so much when he came in, she could barely stand. He'd put his big hot hand on the side of her face and look into her eyes real close, and that's when she would see it. His eyes would glaze over and become pure black and she could see the end of her life. But this night, this one dream, this last dream, it was different. He came in and her legs trembled, just like all those times before, she told me. He came in and he didn't put his hand on her face. He put his hand on her stomach. And she looked down and her belly was full and bleeding and his hand was pushing through her. And he laughed. She said he laughed so horribly it would make even the dead turn frigid. That's when I woke her up. See I was over there, down yonder," she pointed down the hall, "sleeping in my room when I heard her scream. I thought the end of the world had come and she had had a vision of it, she screamed so! Like there was shards of glass cutting her every vein, her screamed pierced me so! But when I shook her woke, she told me of her dream. I had to rock her for a mighty long time to calm her down some, cuz she knew then death meant to come for her unborn child. I had always told her it was a sin to have conceived that child, but Lord knows I would have done anything in this world to make sure that child was alright. I rocked her in my arms, my Dorothea, this last child of mine, and when she had finally calmed down some, she looked up at me and she said 'mama?' She said it so wearily. I said, 'yeah, baby?' And she looked at me real hard and then she said, 'it hurts!' I was holding her so tightly that I hadn't felt it, but something caused me to look down at that moment and I saw that blood was pouring all down her legs and I knew that was no good. I called the ambulance right away. When we got to the hospital, she was screaming louder than I'd ever heard anybody scream. The doctor and all the nurses could barely work around all that noise. They gave her some needles but she kept on screaming. The baby, they said, was breech. And it was coming. Whether it was his time or not, he was coming. They had to cut her open. They put her to sleep so that they could cut her open and rescue her dying child. They put her to sleep ... and she never woke up again. That's how Joshua came into this world, on the entrails of his mother's life. This child that came into the world so savagely, was so small, so small he fit in the palms of the doctors hands, so small and so gentle ... and so deathly quiet. They didn't think he would see the light of day. But this baby here? Oh no, he saw the light. Somehow, he saw the light and the dark."
"And that's why he can see the ghosts? Because he was born in death?" Woody asked suddenly, scratching the timbre of the record my grandmother's voice had become.
"Yes, child. I knew you would understand. But there's more to the story!" And this was the part that made me cringe. "You see, our family has always been cursed."
"Cursed?" Woody asked, intrigued. "Cursed by who?"
"My grandfather worked for a man, a white man, tending to his fields. Right here in Mississippi in fact. See, these were newly free times back then and my grandfather was a free man. He got paid a wage to tend those fields and it was a respectable work for him to be doing. The white man of that plantation, he had himself a real nice family. Lovely wife and five beautiful children. But he also had a secret. There was a rumor among the workers that he had a mistress too, a black mistress, which in those times was something that happened rather regular, but it was not something you wanted known. He had four children by her, and they was rumored to be living on the grounds and working for him. Now this was the workers rumors mind you. They were all rather light complected negro children, so most of the free men found these rumors could be true. Well, one night my grandfather and his friends, after a long hot day of working in the sun for this white man, had themselves a good ole time at the workers' house. The lady of the house, her name was Esthra, she was so beautiful that all the men wanted her. But none of them could have her. She was never seen with any of those men and it was largely believed it was because she was the white man's property. Now, son, you're too young to hear all the details of what went on that night, I don't want your mind to be filled with such things. But in the end, the house burned down to the ground. Everybody got out alright - my grandfather, his friends and Esthra who had passed out. They were so drunk it was all they could do to stumble out of their alive themselves. When Esthra came around, she was in my grandfathers arms. She saw the ashes of her house and turned to my granddaddy and asked him where her children were. Where were her babies, her four babies who had been asleep in the upper room.
posted by Saturn at 5:08 PM
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