Amidst torrential rain and thunder, female screams could be heard from the Culpepper mansion. Mrs. Culpepper’s baby was about to be born and it seemed that with every thunderclap, the pain became worse. Orin stood in the doorway paralyzed with fear as he watched his father stand helplessly by. Other than the birth of an occasional calf or horse, human birth was something that Orin wasn’t used to especially with seeing his mother in so much suffering. He couldn’t understand why it was so difficult when the slaves on the plantation had their own children right in the Eubie rows with what seemed like nary a whimper. With each scream, the Colonel was convinced there was something wrong and that this would not be an easy birth. “Don’t stand there boy,” he said to Orin. “Go git some help.”
As raindrops fell, Beryl and Rosetta snuggled cozily next to the wood-burning stove. It was on nights like this that Beryl longed for the family to be together. To ease the pain in her heart, she savored every moment with Rosetta and tried not to think what life would be like without her husband and son. In between emptying the bucket that collected water from the leaky roof, Beryl told her daughter one of her favorite stories. Although she had no formal education, she remembered the many stories passed down from her grandmother. She particularly liked the one about the woman who had grown so ugly from her evil ways that no one in the village recognized her. Every time she told the tale, the woman’s unacceptable behavior brought on a myriad of unpleasant consequences. “Then what happened,” Rosetta asked wondering what would befall the woman next. Since Eubie’s disappearance, Rosetta tried not to be like the evil old woman. It was her hope that if she were extra-good, the reward would be that everything would be like it was before Eubie left. Rosetta held her breath to learn of the woman’s fate.
“When the old woman went back to her village, she was so ugly from her evil ways, nobody knew who she was. At that moment, there were several loud knocks at the door.
“Eubie!” Rosetta said jumping up. She stood on her tippy-toes to peer out the window only to find a rain-soaked Nehemiah standing there. Beryl opened the door.
“It’s Miz Culpepper,” he said wet and shivering. Beryl, without hesitation, ran with Rosetta in tow to be by Mrs. Culpepper’s side.
When they reached the mansion, Mrs. Culpepper was in a complete state of hysteria. She had been ill before the baby’s birth, so now the delivery was complicated. Beryl looked down at the pale, frightened woman and immediately felt a mother’s pain. She leaned over the bed as a wide-eyed Rosetta stood ready with several blankets that were warmed in the hearth. The woman’s contorted face was unnerving that Rosetta had to avert her eyes in order to stay calm.
As soon as the baby arrived, Orin peaked through the keyhole and saw his sister for the first time before she breathed her last. Mrs. Culpepper’s hysteria finally caught up with the moment when she realized hers was the only voice piercing the strange hush that had descended upon the house. “It ain’t cryin. Howcum it ain’t cryin’?” she asked before retreating into a world of her own. Orin was still dazed when Beryl and Rosetta ran past him with what appeared to be a bundle of soiled laundry.
The Culpeppercemetery was nearly a half mile away from the plantation, and slogging through the clay dirt made the gruesome task at hand all the more intolerable. The rain had stopped, but left in its wake rivulets of mud that somehow managed to finds their way in between Rosetta’s toes. She didn’t take to the idea of going to the graveyard at night because it was rumored that Slavers went there to talk to the dead to learn the whereabouts of runaway slaves. One hand held tightly to her mother’s skirt while the other squeezed Nehemiah’s fingers for extra reassurance.
As soon as Nehemiah finished digging the small hole, a huge owl hooted at the moon as if to herald the new soul. Rosetta shivered at the sound. According to superstition, the owl was the harbinger of death. During the awkward reverential moment of silence, she prayed silently for her father and brother’s safe return. Beryl managed to eke out a feeble amen before gently rolling the tiny, lifeless bundle into its resting place.
