Between Two Tides (2)

On March 27th, in the year of our Lord, 1747, we put Mama to rest in the cold, hard, frozen ground beside Mam and Grandfather. Our family, Papa, Gregory, Logan, Gavin, Zechariah, Sadie, Elizabeth and me were all that were left and I felt older already.

Gregory and I put the dried flowers Mama hung from the tresses in the cabin, at the head of the cross Papa made for her marker. We stood there barely noticing how frigid the weather had become. My father, Jonathan Robert Morton, was a broken man that day. We had to beg him inside and he sat at the table for days sipping from Grandfathers shot glasses and pounding his fists into the table now and then. Papa was glaring at us and it sent chills up my spine. The chill you get when you know there’s something creeping up on you in the woods, but can’t see it.

Gregory and me kept the babies fed and I didn’t complain much about the soiled changing rags. Papa didn’t move from his seat and even brought the milking pail to the table to urinate in. He only allowed us to dump it when it was full and it raised an awful smell in the cabin after a day. Even little Sadie complained and none of us wanted to take our food at the table. We did though because of Mama. She always said that the “Lord blesses those who attend to their meals with proper etiquette.” What etiquette was I wasn’t sure, but I did know that it was “women’s responsibility” to keep it up. I knew Mama would appreciate that we weren’t wild children just because she went home to live with God, Mam and Grandfather.

At night Gregory and me would share our beds with Elizabeth and Sadie. Papa wouldn’t look at Elizabeth and Gregory said that it was cause he thinks Elizabeth was the reason Mama died. Gregory said we had to keep a good eye on her cause Papa looked at her like he wanted to slam her of the walls most of the time. Every time she needed to nurse and yelped for us to feed her, Papa would turn his head in her direction. His eyes narrowed like he was looking down the barrel of his musket and one of us would run to quiet her.

Gregory and I planned to tie Papa up until he saw reason, but Papa was too big and would have no trouble knocking us. I was mad at Papa because I heard Mama say it was a bad time for him to leave to get supplies and he went anyway. We could have waited a few more days. Now Mama’s gone and Papa is just sitting there. We wait for him to do something but he doesn’t move. Gregory says we should just leave with the babies and youngens before Papa goes mad completely. I just cry myself to sleep and pray to the Lord Jesus that I will wake up and Elizabeth will still be here.

Gregory and me thought that praying that Papa wouldn’t kill us might not be what we should ask for. He thought that praying that Papa gets well soon would be better, “cause maybe God is thinking that he wants all of us there.” My brother wasn’t ready to go because next year he was going to Boston to look for a wife and he didn’t want to live with God until he had one. He was probably right though because Mama was up there and she would want us to come there too and praying to God that Papa doesn’t kill us might give Mama the idea to tell God to come get us. I closed my eyes and decided to pray anyway because Gregory wasn’t right about everything.

The next few days went much the same. Papa stirred on the fourth and told me he was going to town to get supplies. We were running out and besides he had to hunt again anyway. The grain was getting low for the cow and we had no laying hens left. He said he would get those too. He gave Gregory three gold pieces and told him to hang on tight in case he wasn’t back for a couple weeks. He said something about going to Boston if they didn’t have supplies down river. If he went to Boston Papa might never come back. We all were glad when Papa gave Gregory his musket and powder and headed out the door. I had the feeling Papa wasn’t coming back. I think Gregory did too and he gave me the look of knowing what I did.

That night Gregory took the crumbs and scraps off the table and put them out on top of the rabbit hutch. Gregory and I talked our whole lives about testing the truth on the story of the wood ferries. Grandpa used to say that if we fed the woods ferries that it would bring us luck and so every night for my whole life we took turns feeding them on the rabbit hutch. We never were able to test the truth because we also had to go to bed right after feeding them. The next day, most of the time, the food would be gone and the tale would be true. Now though we had no mother, father, grandpa or Mam to shew us to our beds. Gregory and I discussed it and decided that we would wait until Papa was gone a couple days. We didn’t need to be giving him any excuse to whoop us.

Gregory stayed out later than usual because the cow had to be fed and watered and the barn needed a new bed of hay for the old girl to sleep on. He stayed out past eight and I begin to check on him every few minutes. The little cabin was quite lonely now that Mama and Papa were both gone. It seemed as if every little sound got loud all of a sudden and with Gregory in the barn it got worse and worse. I wanted to yell for him to get in the house quick but he would have told me I was just a foolish girl and I couldn’t help but be scared. Then he’d run about clucking like a wet hen and call me chicken. So I waited for the door to open and finally it did. I let go of my breath and it wasn’t until that moment I knew how afraid I was in the cabin alone.

Gregory helped me put the little ones to bed and Logan gave him a hard time. He said he was real tired but when Gregory went to cover him he said it was too hot. I went to see to him and when I touched him he was like the grate on the fireplace after the fire died out a little. His little cheeks were bright red and he said his throat hurt. He said he was really tired and just wanted us to leave him alone.

Before the light of day Gavin was in my room screaming that something was eating Logan. Gregory was right behind Gavin and we all went to have a look. The cabin was freezing cold and Gregory went to rekindling the fire. I went to Logan and held the lantern over his face.

He was wet from head to toe and he was starting to smell. It was a different smell. Not like when the babies mess, but a smell like meat gone bad. Grandma would have said Logan was rancid. His face was crimson. Not just like flush but deep boiling crimson. Like when the blood runs out of a kill that Papa’s hung in the orchard. I was scared and didn’t mind telling Gregory.

Gregory came to see what I was in a sweat about and he was scared too. Mama used to tell us about strange fevers and Gregory must have thought the same thing cause he pushed Gavin away from Logan’s bed. By now Elizabeth had awakened and was bawling for food. Gregory told me to tend her but that I should go out and get snow and rub my hands in it first cause whatever Logan had wasn’t good.

I went to the storage box beside the house and pulled out a bladder and filled it with milk. I didn’t boil it like Mama said to, but one time wouldn’t matter. I went to her, passing by Logan, and couldn’t help but see my brother Gregory pulling my brother Logan’s night shirt off him. He told Gavin to get some water form the pot and bring it here. Gavin just stood there and Gregory gave him a backhand Papa style and told him to move it. Gavin didn’t waste time about it and went to get the water. I thought God would punish me for seeing my brothers parts and I prayed right there that I wouldn’t go blind like Mama said I would if I was to look at an older brothers parts.

I fed Elizabeth and changed her cloth. Did babies ever not mess? This time it was fluid and was sour like milk in the sun. Her rump was red and I put some salve on it that Mama used for Sadie once. She fell asleep quickly and I went back to check on Logan. Gregory was asleep in the chair by Logan’s bed when I returned and Gavin had disappeared into his room again. I put two more logs on the fire, went outside to clean out the changing cloth and went back to sleep myself. It was almost dawn.

The sun was high in the sky when little Sadie let out a yelp. I woke up and she was on the floor by my bed. Her little red face and sleepy eyes told me she was sick too. I picked her up and headed for Logan’s bed. I wish Logan had stayed with me and I wouldn’t have to wait so long to find out he was better, but with Mama gone Gregory could stay in Papa’s bed and Logan could have Gregory’s. Sadie and Elizabeth stayed with me now.

Gregory was coming in the door with fresh milk and set some down for me to ready for Elizabeth. The fire was warm and he had aired the room from the smell of the bucket. Logan was still in bed and tossing violently. I put Sadie down and took her cloth off and then set her gently on the chamber pot. She was getting better at staying dry these days. She was dry this morning. I was grateful to God for that. When she finished I set her in the high chair Papa made for Mama’s babies and gave her some of the worm milk and some bread. She was happy and I could go to Logan.

Gregory yelled for me to not touch him and came to where I was standing. He leaned forward and whispered that something awful had happened to Logan and I should stay as far as I could away. I was afraid, but I told him that this was nonsense and I pulled the covered back from Logan.

Logan was getting little sores all over him. His face only had a few, but his stomach and legs were covered. He was hot. You didn’t have to feel it. You could see it. His lips are crimson and covered in blisters. There’s a white film covering all of that. I called to him and he cried for Mama to come. I cried because I wanted Mama too. Gregory cried because we were crying. Gregory reached down to help Logan sit up and Logan started to wretch. Like the dog does when he’s eaten too much grass. Nothing came up and Greg tried to spoon water into his mouth. Logan was too weak to stay up or even to get the drops of water down.

Gregory stayed right by Logan’s side into the night and I took care of the little ones. Sadie was showing signs of fever by nightfall and by dawn she was too sick to drink too. That afternoon Logan no longer tossed about and all we could do is wipe him down with water. Not that it did any good at all. Greg and I took turns praying that Papa would come back sooner. We fell asleep. The fire went out and Sadie and Logan were quiet.

Elizabeth let out a demanding cry at the crack of dawn and both Gregory and I awakened with a jolt. Logan was still quiet and little Sadie was rolled up with the blanket over her head. She was still, but it didn’t feel right. I went to her and pulled back the cover and let a scream out that would wake Mam from her grave. Sadie was covered in sores and they were oozing puss. I called for Gregory and he came slowly in the door, dropping to his knees and bawling, “Logan ain’t breathing. I told him to get over here and look at Sadie and I went to Logan.

Logan looked peaceful, but he was one big sore. The smell of him was rotten and I didn’t go to close. I didn’t want to be rotten like Logan. I sat for a long time starring at my little brother. I wondered what Papa would say when he got home. Papa came home to sickness last time and this time he will come home to two dead children. Logan and then Sadie, if she didn’t get better. I got down on my knees and prayed and begged God to make Sadie better so Papa didn’t shoot Gregory this time. I thought I should make sure the wood fairies had plenty to eat today and I went out in daylight to give them a whole biscuit. I figured we needed every bit of help we could get and Papa would be back before the flour ran out again.

Gregory went out to the barn and brought in gunnysacks to put our brother Logan in. He said I should put the blankets around his face and any part of him should be good and covered before we lifted him in the sack. Next, Gregory went to the next good spot beside Mama. He picked at the ground and shoveled for nearly three hours. Before noon he had a hole in the ground big enough for our brother’s little body.

I cried because we didn’t have a box and so Gregory took two armloads of hay and lay a layer under and one over Logan’s body. We shoveled the earth over him and we went back in the cabin and Gregory carved a little cross with Logan’s name, birth year and death year on it. We went back out and said words for him. It was dusk and none of us except Sadie and Elizabeth had eaten. Gregory looked at Sadie and went back out to dig again.

Three days later, on the Sabbath, Sadie let go. She lingered 5 days and we didn’t hear her cry after day 3. We prayed she would just let go because she seems to shrink by the hour. The little cabin had the smell of rotting meat and it was a sour smell. Gregory was so tired and he said that we were all going to die. He dug a hole for each of us. One every day.

Sadie was clean. She hadn’t soiled herself. There was nothing to come through. I lay her in Mama’s quilting box and she too was in a sack. Gregory said we couldn’t risk passing it on. It was too late because Gavin and Zechariah had been sick all night and we didn’t have the strength to help them. Gregory paced at night, cut wood and changed the air. Mama always said that God gave us fresh air to help us heal. I made biscuits, washed soiled changing rags and clothes, and wet the boys down with cool water. I couldn’t pray anymore. God had left us orphans and punishing me for looking at Logan’s parts. I prayed only one time and that was to go blind so I didn’t have to see them rotting. I put another biscuit out for the wood fairies and talked to the row of trees at the side of the house. I repeated over and over, “please bring us luck, and please bring us luck before we all die”.

A week later we went to another hole and put Gavin in. The day after it was Zechariah. I stood and starred at the line of little mounds beside Mama. Logan and Gavin were 8 years old; Zechariah was only 5 and Sadie only one year old. I cried but no tears came. Only the thought of who would be next. I noticed that it was very warm for the first week in April and that my brother Greg was digging another hole. He was sweating and I saw a spot on the tip of his nose. I didn’t say anything and he looked up at me and said “just in case sister, just in case. I don’t want you to have to dig.”