The Personal History of Rachel DuPree_ A Novel - Ann Weisgarber [56]
Accidents happened everywhere; I knew that. It wasn’t just the Badlands, but it seemed to me that accidents and death were harder to bear here. When you lost a child, you wanted your family. In the Badlands, though, neighbors had to stand in. When Isaac Two died, Isaac got the preacher from Interior, a white man not much over twenty. He didn’t know what to do for me, so he read from the Bible, standing over me as I sat blank-eyed in my rocker. It was the neighbor women, Mindy McKee and Mabel Walker, what washed my face, fixed my hair, and dressed me. They did the same for Isaac Two. During the burial, they held on to my arms, keeping me on my feet. It was Mindy, with her red hair that always flashed in the sunlight, what saw I was in labor and stayed on to help with the birthing. It was Mabel, whose mouth was usually set in a frown, what came back after Liz was born and told me the new baby needed me more than the memory of Isaac Two did.
I was grateful to Mindy and Mabel; I’d always be. But when accidents happened, it was my mother what I most wanted.
The girls were asleep. I stopped reading. Off to the west, the darkening clouds rolled on top of each other like they were being chased by something bigger. The wind picked up. The sky glowed silver, and clouds were piling up in the north. A scattered flock of magpies blew past, pitching wildly, their hard-beating black wings sparkling in that sky’s funny color.
The air smelled of dusty rain. Tumbleweed skittled past. The buttes shined pink. My heart began to beat fast with hope, the sluggishness in my arms and legs brought on by the soothing syrup suddenly gone.
I sat there watching the sky, waiting, the Longfellow book in one hand, my other arm around Emma. I knew that Isaac would be watching too. I hoped that he, Mary, John, and Rounder were heading home, doing their best to beat the storm that was surely going to break loose any time. I shook my head. Don’t get your hopes up, I told myself. Don’t. These clouds could pass, turn into nothing.
I rocked back and forth, the girls asleep, my eyes fixed on the clouds as the day’s light turned dark.
If it rained, things would work out. If it rained, I’d put the Indian woman and the half-breed boy behind me. If it rained, things between me and Isaac would be like before. That was what I told myself.
The wind gusted. There was a chill in it. All at once, snakes of lightning etched the sky everywhere. I braced for the thunder. When it came, it started with a moaning rumble and then gathered itself, rumbling louder and louder until it cracked into a boom. The girls, startled awake, started to cry. I drew them to me.
“A storm,” I said to them, my heart skipping. “A storm.”
Raindrops, one at a time, hit the tin roof. Single drops pocked the white grit on the ground, making little craters. I lifted my face, closed my eyes, and waited, scared I’d run the rain off if I wanted it too much. A raindrop splashed on my cheek.
“Mama!” The wind had taken the red blanket, and it tumbled down toward the cottonwood. “Let it go,” I said, and then I smiled.
Lightning darted across the sky and this time the crack of thunder made me jump. The girls yelped and then cried all the louder.
“Lord,” I said, thinking how this was just like the Badlands to hit us hard when it finally rained. The rain began to come in earnest. “Lord,” I said again, and this time it was praise. I slid Emma to her feet. “Come on,” I said, all at once in a hurry. We went inside, the Longfellow book in my hand.
We gathered up all the washbasins, every pot and pan, anything I had that could hold water. I lined them up on the edge of the porch, the plinking of raindrops in them filling my heart with joy. Back inside, I wanted to sit at the parlor window and watch the prairie grasses come alive. I wanted to see the rain barrels overflow, and I wanted to see the wells fill up. I wished for Isaac so we could see it together. The Indian squaw and her boy, Isaac’s anger about Mrs. Fills the Pipe, my hard feelings against the Badlands, Liz in the well, all of that was