Through the Storm by Beverly Jenkins Page B

laundry was set up on the banks of a fairly wide creek. According to Araminta, access to such fresh water was one of the reasons the camp had been settled here. Sable was led past huge cauldrons filled with boiling water and the silent, watching women tending them.Yards and yards of rope had been strung between trees to form clotheslines. In spite of the still early hour, more than a few lines were already straining under the weight of bedding, army uniforms, union suits, and blankets. Sable smelled the lye and felt the heat coming off the vats, fed by stick fires underneath them. She watched a woman use a long length of wood to lift out a steaming mound of wash and transfer it to a neighboring vat to be rinsed.
    This would be hard, grueling work, especially under a full sun. Sable silently and sarcastically thanked the processing soldier for the opportunity to work there.
    Araminta turned Sable over to the head laundress, a kindly woman named Mrs. Reese, but before leaving she took Sable aside.
    “I have to go do some looking around for the generals, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
    Sable tried not to let her disappointment show. “I’ll never be able to thank you for what you’ve done.”
    “Sure you can. Just don’t squander your freedom.”
    They shared a hug and Araminta smiled. “Stay on the path, Sable, and good things will happen.”
    She waved and was gone.
    Mrs. Reese turned out to be a surprisingly optimistic woman. She was big and brown and had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. To Sable’s surprise she was not a runaway, but a free Black woman from Boston. “I own the biggest laundry in my part of town, and I wanted to come down here and help. When I arrived and explained what I could do, I thought General Sherman was going to kiss me, he was so happy.”
    “You came South to do laundry?”
    “Yep. With me around, our boys can concentrate on whipping those Rebs instead of doing wash. Come on. I want you to meet the others.”
    The others turned out to be four women of varying sizes and hues. Some were older, some looked to be Sable’s age, none looked overly friendly. Their nameswere Dorothy, Bridget, Paige, and Sookie. Only Bridget offered a smile.
    Mrs. Reese then took Sable to a group of tents. “This is where you’ll sleep. Had two girls run out on me, so you’re in here with Sookie and Paige. It’ll be kind of cozy, but it’s better than being out in the open.”
    Inside the tent there were three pallets. Beside two of them were small bundles of clothing that Sable assumed belonged to her tent mates. Mrs. Reese pointed out the pallet on the far left as being Sable’s, then escorted her back outside.
    “First thing we need to do is get you cleaned up.”
    Sable could only agree. She hadn’t bathed in quite some time, and her filthy clothing and dirty skin reflected it all too well.
    “I had the troops rig me up a shower of sorts.”
    Sable studied the contraption. When the rope was pulled on an overhead bucket full of water, the bucket tipped and the water cascaded down in one fell swoop. The shower was housed in a listing wooden enclosure that offered a measure of privacy.
    “You only get one bucket per wash.”
    Sable thought the shower was ingenious and couldn’t wait to try it.
    “Go ahead and wash. The water’s going to be cold, but you’ll get used to it. And you may as well toss that dress you’re wearing onto the rag pile. I’ve got a few spares around. I’m sure I can find something that will fit. Use that sheet there to dry yourself. It’s clean.”
    Sable was left to wash. She gasped as the bucket of icy water came down and rinsed her clean. She felt like a new woman.
    Per Mrs. Reese’s instructions, she dried herself with the rough cotton sheet. A knock sounded shortly thereafter, signaling the return of the laundress. Wrapped in the sheet, Sable cautiously cracked open the thin wood door and took the offered dress from Mrs. Reese’s hand.

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