A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton - Michael R. Phillips [91]
“This was in the mail, Mayme,” she said, showing it to me.
“What does it say?”
“ ‘To Rosalind Clairborne, Rosewood,’ ” Katie read. “ ‘This is to inform you that your loan of $150 is due and payable on September 29, 1865. If not paid in full, foreclosure proceedings will begin immediately.’ ”
She looked up at me with a forlorn expression on her face. “That’s three days from now, Mayme! What are we going to do?”
“We’ve got to pick as much cotton as we can before then!” I said.
The rest of that day we picked faster than we’d picked the whole time. Katie explained to Aleta and Emma how dire the situation had become.
“I know you’re tired, Aleta,” she said, “but we’ve got to keep working together. And, Emma, do you think William could come back out?”
“Yes’m, Miz Katie. I’ll bring him out an’ den I’ll help too. We gotter save Rosewood fer you, Miz Katie, we jes’ gotter.”
We picked till we were exhausted, then took time out to milk the cows and eat something. After that Katie and I went back out ourselves and were still picking when it was finally so dark we couldn’t see the white of the cotton anymore.
“We’ve got to quit, Katie,” I said. “We can start up again tomorrow. It’s no use going any more now.”
She didn’t say a word. We walked back to the house together in silence, completely worn out. Aleta was already asleep. Emma and William had fallen asleep together on the couch in the parlor. We went inside, dragged ourselves up the stairs, and flopped into bed without even washing or getting undressed.
When I woke up the next morning the sun was barely up. I poked my head into Katie’s room, but she wasn’t there. I went downstairs but couldn’t find her anywhere.
I went outside and walked toward the field where we’d been working. There was Katie in the distance, bending down and working her way along a row like she’d never gone to bed at all. I went back into the house and quickly ate something, then packed up some bread and milk for her and went out to join her.
She glanced up as I came. From the pale look on her face, I could tell she hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink yet. I gave her the bread and jug of milk. She smiled wearily and ate it, though I think by now her complete exhaustion had made it so she didn’t feel hungry anymore.
An hour later Aleta wandered out, hair messy and sleep still in her eyes. Then a little while after that Emma walked out, holding William.
“Katie,” I said, “you’ve been working hard. Why don’t you go in with Aleta and Emma, and the three of you have some breakfast?”
“What about you, Mayme?” she said wearily.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m feeling good. Then you three can come join me after you’ve had something to eat.”
She didn’t argue but just turned and started walking toward the house. Aleta and Emma followed her. An hour later we were all four working again in the field.
About the middle of the morning, I glanced up and saw a tall black figure walking toward us. We’d been so occupied that none of us had noticed him.
I paused and stood up, stretching my back. About the same time Katie noticed him too and walked over to meet him near where I was standing.
“You ladies is workin’ mighty hard,” said Jeremiah. “I been watchin’ the goin’s on at Mr. Watson’s mill,” he went on. “It seems t’ me dat you could use another couple er han’s at dis cotton o’ yers.”
Katie smiled a weary smile.
“I’m not going to pretend that we don’t need help, Jeremiah,” she said. “But what about your father? Does Henry—?”
“He don’ know where I went. I ain’t sayin’ he ain’t been askin’ lots er questions. But I ain’t tol’ him nuthin’ ’bout what I seen here.”
“Thank you, Jeremiah. We are all very appreciative of your help.”
Katie went back to the row she was working on. I started in picking again too, and Jeremiah fell in beside me, putting his pickings in my bag. He was even faster than me, and we could notice a difference right away in how fast the wagon filled. We found another bag in the barn and now started moving even faster. As we went we talked a little, mostly