front of the door left propped open. Bubby bounced on Armina’s slight hip.
“I’ll be back this afternoon,” Lilly called to Ned, who was in the back. “I’m making a house call.”
“Watch careful for snakes,” he replied. “They’ll likely be sunning today.”
“I’ve got my walking stick,” Lilly said. “I’ll make a ruckus.”
The path was steep and twisted into hairpin turns, but they made their way easily enough until they came to a wide and stagnant creek.
Armina gathered her skirts to one side, secured them under Bubby’s bottom, and waded in up to her knees.
Lilly paused on the bank. The water was murky and smelled of rotten leaves and dead fish. Something sinister slithered by.
“I reckon you’ll want to take your shoes off,” Armina said.
“Isn’t there a bridge somewhere about?”
“You afeered of snakes?”
“Well, I don’t want to step on one,” Lilly said, “and this water is not very clean.”
Armina swirled the water with one foot. “This here’s Swampy. It’s always brackish.” She bent down to pick up a good-size rock and lobbed it underhanded, up the bed. Oily water splashed. “There now. The snakes will all go up under the riffles. They won’t hurt you none.” The tail of her skirt broke loose and trailed behind her as she made her way to the far bank.
With her shoes and stockings in one hand and her skirts over her arm, Lilly followed.
Once they crossed the creek, it was not far to the Eldridges’ cabin nestled deep in the hollow of the woods. The cabin sat four feet off the ground, balanced on rocks stacked underneath each corner. A trace of smoke wafted upward from a massive stone chimney. They climbed six wide wooden steps up to the porch. Armina crossed silently on bare feet, but Lilly’s footsteps rang out hollowly.
The door opened inward. Armina stood back and allowed Lilly to step into the cool shadows of the one-room house. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw that everything was clean and orderly. A kitchen table was laid with tin cups and plates as if for dinner. A shelf against one wall held a gray granite bucket and round granite pan. On the wall beside the bucket, a long-handled gourd dipper hung from a leather string looped over a nail. Warmth emanated from the cookstove in one corner.
The biggest woman Lilly had ever seen sat in a huge chair placed in front of the empty fireplace. Her dimpled elbows were planted on the arms of the chair, and she rested her double chin in one palm. Aunt Orie, Lilly surmised.
“Mrs. Eldridge? I’m Dr. Corbett. What can I do for you today?”
“Honey, I cain’t hardly draw any air.”
Each word was punctuated with a singing gasp. She sounded like the full gospel preacher Lilly had once heard at a brush arbor meeting.
“Doc said she’s got the dropsy,” Armina said.
“May I?” Lilly asked, pulling her black stethoscope from her bag and placing the bell over Mrs. Eldridge’s heart. The heart galloped—straining. Her short, labored breath crackled through the bell when Lilly put it on her chest. “Could I listen to you from the back?”
Mrs. Eldridge leaned forward heavily. The chair popped and creaked. Tiny hands lifted the tent of Mrs. Eldridge’s skirts and a little girl crawled out from under the seat. She didn’t go far, however, for the tail of her dress was caught tight under one of the legs.
“Sissy, sit still now,” Armina said, plopping Bubby down on the floor beside her. She’d carried the boy nearly a mile up the side of the mountain.
The toddler poked Bubby’s button nose. “Node?”
“Shh, Sissy,” Armina said.
“Twins?” Lilly asked.
“Same as,” Armina said. “Ten months apart—he’s eight months but already outweighs her. She’d be easier to pack when I have to leave the house, but I cain’t wag both and she don’t fuss.” She wet one fingertip and wiped a smudge from the boy’s cheek. “Bubby and Sissy, double trouble.”
“They sure are
“I’ll be back this afternoon,” Lilly called to Ned, who was in the back. “I’m making a house call.”
“Watch careful for snakes,” he replied. “They’ll likely be sunning today.”
“I’ve got my walking stick,” Lilly said. “I’ll make a ruckus.”
The path was steep and twisted into hairpin turns, but they made their way easily enough until they came to a wide and stagnant creek.
Armina gathered her skirts to one side, secured them under Bubby’s bottom, and waded in up to her knees.
Lilly paused on the bank. The water was murky and smelled of rotten leaves and dead fish. Something sinister slithered by.
“I reckon you’ll want to take your shoes off,” Armina said.
“Isn’t there a bridge somewhere about?”
“You afeered of snakes?”
“Well, I don’t want to step on one,” Lilly said, “and this water is not very clean.”
Armina swirled the water with one foot. “This here’s Swampy. It’s always brackish.” She bent down to pick up a good-size rock and lobbed it underhanded, up the bed. Oily water splashed. “There now. The snakes will all go up under the riffles. They won’t hurt you none.” The tail of her skirt broke loose and trailed behind her as she made her way to the far bank.
With her shoes and stockings in one hand and her skirts over her arm, Lilly followed.
Once they crossed the creek, it was not far to the Eldridges’ cabin nestled deep in the hollow of the woods. The cabin sat four feet off the ground, balanced on rocks stacked underneath each corner. A trace of smoke wafted upward from a massive stone chimney. They climbed six wide wooden steps up to the porch. Armina crossed silently on bare feet, but Lilly’s footsteps rang out hollowly.
The door opened inward. Armina stood back and allowed Lilly to step into the cool shadows of the one-room house. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw that everything was clean and orderly. A kitchen table was laid with tin cups and plates as if for dinner. A shelf against one wall held a gray granite bucket and round granite pan. On the wall beside the bucket, a long-handled gourd dipper hung from a leather string looped over a nail. Warmth emanated from the cookstove in one corner.
The biggest woman Lilly had ever seen sat in a huge chair placed in front of the empty fireplace. Her dimpled elbows were planted on the arms of the chair, and she rested her double chin in one palm. Aunt Orie, Lilly surmised.
“Mrs. Eldridge? I’m Dr. Corbett. What can I do for you today?”
“Honey, I cain’t hardly draw any air.”
Each word was punctuated with a singing gasp. She sounded like the full gospel preacher Lilly had once heard at a brush arbor meeting.
“Doc said she’s got the dropsy,” Armina said.
“May I?” Lilly asked, pulling her black stethoscope from her bag and placing the bell over Mrs. Eldridge’s heart. The heart galloped—straining. Her short, labored breath crackled through the bell when Lilly put it on her chest. “Could I listen to you from the back?”
Mrs. Eldridge leaned forward heavily. The chair popped and creaked. Tiny hands lifted the tent of Mrs. Eldridge’s skirts and a little girl crawled out from under the seat. She didn’t go far, however, for the tail of her dress was caught tight under one of the legs.
“Sissy, sit still now,” Armina said, plopping Bubby down on the floor beside her. She’d carried the boy nearly a mile up the side of the mountain.
The toddler poked Bubby’s button nose. “Node?”
“Shh, Sissy,” Armina said.
“Twins?” Lilly asked.
“Same as,” Armina said. “Ten months apart—he’s eight months but already outweighs her. She’d be easier to pack when I have to leave the house, but I cain’t wag both and she don’t fuss.” She wet one fingertip and wiped a smudge from the boy’s cheek. “Bubby and Sissy, double trouble.”
“They sure are
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