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ignored by its well-to-do neighbors, Shuffletown housed the mostly black population that had once worked the rich South Carolina plantation land as slaves.
    Staying on after the Civil War, they became tenant farmers, working the land for others. Some made a living fishing the abundant waters off the coast. Lately, many had found employment in the resort and residential developments on Teoway Island. Others left for college and better-paying jobs in the cities, never to return.
    For those who remained in Shuffletown, life could be good if they didn't expect too much in the way of worldly goods. Steeped in the Gullah and Geechee traditions that their forebears brought with them from Africa, folks were not wealthy by most people's standards, but there was one commodity they produced with abundance. Children.
    Maura loved the children. Kids with wide gleaming smiles. Little girls with hair braided in corn-rows, coffee-colored scalp shining between the rows. Small boys with tight black curls, chasing one another in play, their brown legs pumping as they ran. These children were not well-dressed, as their counterparts on Teoway Island were. They wore cotton shorts and simple shirts, some of them homemade. Or they wore T-shirts and jeans bought at rummage sales. Now, in the summer, they went barefoot.
    Maura had first asked Kathleen about the Shuffletown community one day as they sat sunning themselves on Teoway Island's wide beach.
    "No one on Teoway Island seems to know anything about Shuffletown," Kathleen said, dismissing her question with a shrug.
    "Everyone who lives here has to cross the Teoway Island bridge to pass through Shuffletown on the way to Charleston," reasoned Maura.
    "I don't think anyone from Teoway wants to know anything about Shuffletown," Kathleen said pointedly.
    And then Maura dropped a bombshell. "I'm going to set up my practice in midwifery there," she declared. "I'm going to provide home births for the people who want them."
    Her sister stared in openmouthed shock. "Shuffletown is not the kind of place you'd want to practice as a midwife," Kathleen demurred.
    "They're the kind of people I want to serve," Maura replied quietly. "They need me, Kath. So do their more well-to-do neighbors. My practice will serve them all." Maura didn't know if Kathleen was being purposely obtuse or if she really, after all their sisterly talks, didn't understand why Maura had forsaken her old life for a new one that she hoped would be more purposeful.
    "People living here in the Lowcountry are much more traditionally oriented than where you used to live," Kathleen said. "Hospital births are the norm."
    Maura scoffed at this. "Home births have been going on since we all lived in caves. Nowadays, women everywhere are opting for giving birth in their homes because they're dissatisfied with the hospital model. Women should have a choice."
    "I don't know, Maura." Kathleen rolled her eyes. "You might want to consider other options."
    "Kathleen, I'll help the locals understand what a home birth is about, like I did with people in the housing projects and ghetto. Believe me, I know from experience that there will be lots of pregnant women around here who prefer to deliver their babies at home. Besides, I already know that there's no practicing midwife in this area."
    "Whatever you say," Kathleen had sighed, knowing better than to brook Maura's stubborn determination, and so Maura had continued her discreet inquiries at places where people gathered—small stores and gas stations and hole-in-the-wall cafes. She'd developed an ear for Geechee and an appreciation of the Gullah people as she assessed their needs.
    Maura had deliberately avoided Quinby Hospital, the small and fairly new facility which purported to serve the area. She could hardly expect local doctors to welcome her with open arms, after all. She was a threat to their business and the beliefs that had been drummed into them in medical school.
    Today, she thought wryly, by