to do it.” Even though it was dark, Lou could see her smile. “I must’ve fallen asleep myself.”
Lydia lit a large candle in the corner next to the low wooden stool that Lou found near impossible to lower herself onto. She managed somehow.
The girl wiggled between her knees like a child. “Plait it straight down the back,” she said.
Seeing Lydia sitting on the dirt floor in the dark, her head resting against the burlap between yawns and stretches, made her smile. No matter where the missus made her sleep, this old cabin was still her grandbaby’s home.
“You know and I know you can do this yourself, girl.”
“Not like you can.”
She wasn’t lying. Years ago, Lou made sure every strand was woven. Every strand. Whatever her hand found to do… But now she raked her crinkled hands over the girl’s frizzy braid not knowing how she would muster the strength to complete the task. She could barely see a thing in the dim candlelight. “Take it down for me then.”
Lydia swung her hair loose. Deep dark waves fell down her back. She laid her head against Lou’s knee, wrapped her arm around her calf.
“All this hair on the sweetest face. Always said your daddy should’ve been a girl.” Lou laughed and squeezed Lydia’s shoulders. “I got my girl after all.”
Slowly, Lou gathered and wrapped lock over lock until she winced. “You finish up, hear?” She wrung her hands and sighed.
“I miss you here with us.” She slid to the edge of her chair and smiled at the girl at her feet. “I ain’t never got used to you not being here. Sometimes at night, it’s like I can still feel you right here with me.” It hurt. She wasn’t sure what hurt more. The girl being gone or the feeling she was near when she wasn’t. Would never be again. This life! She shook her head. Soon. Her only comfort rose inside her, lifting her spirit. Soon it would all be over. “Don’t imagine it will matter too much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
Oh, Lydia. She would miss her. And her son. Isaiah and Lydia. Hoped to meet her other children again on the other side.
“I mean, don’t nobody live forever.”
“Don’t say that.” Lydia gripped her knee.
“Don’t say it?” She laughed. “It’s all I should be saying. Best hope I got going.”
“I’ll come by more.” Lydia grabbed her hand, held it against her cheek. “Much as I can. I’ve been spending too much time at the loom.”
Lou hated the thought of that place. She had sat at the loom on her old plantation like all the women heavy with child, no longer able to work in the fields, but this place here was different. The images she conjured about The Room haunted her, kept her from its grounds, far from ever stepping foot across its threshold. The fact that everyone who dwelled within its walls died there unnerved her. Lou imagined their spirits hovering like breath at first, then swarming in a frenzy, tumbling about the cabin like a gust of wind, trapped in darkness, bound beneath a roof that suppressed sad souls that couldn’t even reach heaven. She couldn’t allow her mind to think too long of her friend Ruth, good ol’ Dessa rotting away in a pit they couldn’t escape. The only reason she hadn’t joined them was the Lord’s favor of a healthy son on the property supplying her needs. Isaiah, her savior from the pit of death.
“Thank You,” she whispered.
“Ma’am?”
“I ain’t talking to you.” She grinned. “You do just fine, baby, coming to see me. And I’m happy for you. Always been happy you living in the Big House. Can’t hope for much more.” The lie soured in her mouth. She always prayed more, pleaded more for her grandbaby.
“I met somebody.” Lydia wound her tresses into a knot at the back of her neck and spun around. “Name’s John.” Her head tilted when she said it. Oh, yes, Baby Girl was sweet on him. Lou shook her head and chuckled.
“He says I’m different. Says he don’t much care what I look like, but
Lydia lit a large candle in the corner next to the low wooden stool that Lou found near impossible to lower herself onto. She managed somehow.
The girl wiggled between her knees like a child. “Plait it straight down the back,” she said.
Seeing Lydia sitting on the dirt floor in the dark, her head resting against the burlap between yawns and stretches, made her smile. No matter where the missus made her sleep, this old cabin was still her grandbaby’s home.
“You know and I know you can do this yourself, girl.”
“Not like you can.”
She wasn’t lying. Years ago, Lou made sure every strand was woven. Every strand. Whatever her hand found to do… But now she raked her crinkled hands over the girl’s frizzy braid not knowing how she would muster the strength to complete the task. She could barely see a thing in the dim candlelight. “Take it down for me then.”
Lydia swung her hair loose. Deep dark waves fell down her back. She laid her head against Lou’s knee, wrapped her arm around her calf.
“All this hair on the sweetest face. Always said your daddy should’ve been a girl.” Lou laughed and squeezed Lydia’s shoulders. “I got my girl after all.”
Slowly, Lou gathered and wrapped lock over lock until she winced. “You finish up, hear?” She wrung her hands and sighed.
“I miss you here with us.” She slid to the edge of her chair and smiled at the girl at her feet. “I ain’t never got used to you not being here. Sometimes at night, it’s like I can still feel you right here with me.” It hurt. She wasn’t sure what hurt more. The girl being gone or the feeling she was near when she wasn’t. Would never be again. This life! She shook her head. Soon. Her only comfort rose inside her, lifting her spirit. Soon it would all be over. “Don’t imagine it will matter too much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
Oh, Lydia. She would miss her. And her son. Isaiah and Lydia. Hoped to meet her other children again on the other side.
“I mean, don’t nobody live forever.”
“Don’t say that.” Lydia gripped her knee.
“Don’t say it?” She laughed. “It’s all I should be saying. Best hope I got going.”
“I’ll come by more.” Lydia grabbed her hand, held it against her cheek. “Much as I can. I’ve been spending too much time at the loom.”
Lou hated the thought of that place. She had sat at the loom on her old plantation like all the women heavy with child, no longer able to work in the fields, but this place here was different. The images she conjured about The Room haunted her, kept her from its grounds, far from ever stepping foot across its threshold. The fact that everyone who dwelled within its walls died there unnerved her. Lou imagined their spirits hovering like breath at first, then swarming in a frenzy, tumbling about the cabin like a gust of wind, trapped in darkness, bound beneath a roof that suppressed sad souls that couldn’t even reach heaven. She couldn’t allow her mind to think too long of her friend Ruth, good ol’ Dessa rotting away in a pit they couldn’t escape. The only reason she hadn’t joined them was the Lord’s favor of a healthy son on the property supplying her needs. Isaiah, her savior from the pit of death.
“Thank You,” she whispered.
“Ma’am?”
“I ain’t talking to you.” She grinned. “You do just fine, baby, coming to see me. And I’m happy for you. Always been happy you living in the Big House. Can’t hope for much more.” The lie soured in her mouth. She always prayed more, pleaded more for her grandbaby.
“I met somebody.” Lydia wound her tresses into a knot at the back of her neck and spun around. “Name’s John.” Her head tilted when she said it. Oh, yes, Baby Girl was sweet on him. Lou shook her head and chuckled.
“He says I’m different. Says he don’t much care what I look like, but
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