A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton - Michael R. Phillips [72]
Two or three minutes later I found myself sitting in a corner of the ice house listening to the sound of a lock as the door closed above me, leaving me in near total darkness.
And that’s the way it stayed all night, though I could hardly tell when darkness came outside. Nobody came back to give me anything to eat or even a drink of water. But I was in so much agony I couldn’t have eaten anyway and would only have thrown up. And if I got thirsty enough, I suppose I could have licked at the ice. But the exhaustion of the pain left me so weak I became sleepy and somehow managed to sleep on and off through the night. I had nightmares that everything with Katie had been a dream and that William McSimmons had killed my family, and then he’d found me and brought me here and after whipping me some more was going to rape me and then kill me with all the rest.
Never had the idea of freedom seemed further away. I’d completely forgotten that it was my birthday.
KATIE AND ALETA
37
KATIE PROBABLY GOT LESS SLEEP THAT NIGHT than I did, listening to every noise, both afraid of what they might be and yet straining to hear at the same time, hoping she would hear me coming back. She dozed off now and then and finally awoke just about the same time I was waking up where I lay.
With the coming of morning, all the fears that had assaulted her throughout the night retreated a bit. She began to feel better just because she had to take care of Emma and Aleta all by herself, and doing your duty is about the best thing you can do when sad thoughts are trying to conquer you. Though seeing the horse that had found its way home when she got up, standing outside waiting for someone to feed it, reminded her of the fix I was in.
With me gone and obviously in danger, all three of them, Katie and Emma and Aleta, found themselves quieter and more thoughtful. They didn’t feel like doing the chores. There was no laughter. A deep sadness hovered over Rose- wood, Katie said, like a thick, depressing fog.
Sometime late in the morning, when Emma had gone upstairs for a few minutes and left William on the couch in the parlor with pillows stuffed around him so he wouldn’t fall, Aleta came in and saw him there alone.
She paused, then timidly approached at just the time William began to whimper. She stood above him as his crying grew louder, then gently sat down on the edge of the couch beside him.
“It’s all right, William,” she said softly. “Your mama will be back soon.”
She reached out and took one of his hands and felt the tiny black fingers immediately close around one of her own.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, “I’ll take care of you till your mama gets back.”
Gently she extended her index finger toward the tiny mouth. Instantly William stopped crying and began sucking on the end of it. Aleta giggled at how it felt.
Just then Katie walked into the room. Embarrassed, Aleta quickly pulled her hand away as Katie approached.
“I was just …” she began. “I was trying to make him stop crying.”
“I think William liked it,” said Katie. “He’s just a helpless little baby. He needs people to care for him just like your mother once held you and cared for you. That’s why Emma needs all of our help.”
The sadness of the day and worrying about me had opened up some places in Aleta’s heart that she’d kept closed all this time, ever since the day Katie found her on the doorstep. Now those doors were opening and emotions were pouring out that she’d kept hidden all that time.
All of a sudden Katie noticed her lips beginning to quiver. Her eyes filled with tears as the saddest and most forlorn look she had ever seen came over her face.
“I won’t ever see my mother again,” whimpered Aleta.
Katie sat down on the other side of the couch from where William lay and took Aleta in her arms. For the first time since her mother’s death, Aleta broke down and sobbed. Katie held her close, stroking her hair and whispering words of love and comfort in her ear.
“I don’t have a mama anymore either, Aleta.” Katie said softly. “Neither does Mayme. I don’t know about