Chapter Six

Death hung heavily in the air.

The solemn tolling of the church bell rang across the fields and through the distance to the ears of those in the Stanley's house. I was outside by the cloth line, hanging up my clothes when i heard the distant sound of the church bell. A wave of shivers ran up my spine and i frowned, a slight fold forming  between my brows as i stared across the distance.

Quickly, i shoved the shoulder of my dress into the wooden peg and hurried to the house. On the way, i saw James the stable boy and withheld him. 'What is going on? Why i the church bell ringing when it is not service day'? I inquired. 'Well ma'am, seems loike Mrs Daniel has finally gone to meet the Lord'. I gasped and let him go. Could that really be true? Sprinting into the house, i noticed the disheveled state it was in, every one seemed to be gravitating to the drawing room, and so i myself moved in that direction, shoving and pushing people out of the way as i went. 'Out of the way', i went, 'what is going on'? But i was met with blank stares and widened eyes. 

When i finally squeezed my way through, i saw Mrs Stanley slumped in her seat, crying softly, a slip of paper between her fingers. Abigail was standing behind her wringing her fingers and the Stanley men were sitting adjacent of their wife and daughter-in-law. 'What is going on'? I asked softly, but loud enough to rouse one of them. When none of them reacted, the air heavy and filled with the silent crying of Mrs Stanley and the faint tolling of the bell, i moved to stand behind Mrs Stanley's chair.

 Jabbing Abigail, i whisper-shouted, 'what is going on'?! She stared at me, her eyes glassy and her nose red from crying. 'Oh it's Mrs Daniel, Naomi'. A sinking feeling weighed my chest down. 'Well what about her'? I asked, although i knew the answer, but only so she could talk. 'She - she has gone'! With that word, Mrs Stanley roused. 'Oh my dear friend! What am i to do now? How am i to go on? Why did this happen'? She wailed. I lowered my voice to murmur into Abigail's ear. 'You must tell her to control herself. She must hold herself up here. People watch and they like a good story'. Abigail nodded and bent to speak with her mother. Mr Stanley Jr scratched his head. 'We could send for a hack or two and go visit the family', he suggested. 'No'! Mrs Stanley started, 'i couldn't. I couldn't go just yet'. 

'And you wouldn't if you don't want to'. I stepped in again. I glanced at the men but they only watched me so i took it as a wing of approval and plunged on. 'We would go to the burial and then we can pay our homage to them afterwards. Miss Abigail, please take Mrs Stanley up to her room. Mary'. She'd also managed to squeeze her way through the crowd. 'Please make a calming tea for Mrs Stanley'. When they both went their separate ways, i turned to the crowd. 'The rest of you, go back to your work. Clear the air ways. Don't worry, everything is fine'. 

As the crowd dispersed, i turned to the men. 'Sirs, might i be so bold'. They turned to me, Mr Stanley's bushy brows were raised and his son gave me a minuscule nod. 'About the aforementioned hack, i was wandering whether you could take it and visit the Daniel family still. I know they would appreciate it, they are quite fond of you'. I clamped my mouth shut after that, positive i had overrun my boundary. Instead, Mr Stanley nodded and turned to his son, who nodded in turn. 'That's a good idea lass. Now you go up to my daughter-in-law and my son and i would take care of things'.

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It was the first burial i remembered. There had been another before, a man who was about ninety years old. I was six then, but in Mrs Daniel's burial, i was fifteen. 

The day was bright, not a single cloud overcast. Folks proclaimed it was good omen and if anything, it probably made the family of the deceased feel better that heaven was sending a sign down to us that Mrs Daniel made heaven. Personally, i felt that should be a rainbow. 

Since there was no clouds in the sky, the sun beat heavily down on us, the air was stifling. The air was so dry and hot, you could hardly break a sweat without it being dried away the next minute. I felt sorry for the white folks, all up in  black clothings. We the blacks -burials were an open event unless the family wanted it private-, had put on our clean frocks and work clothes and stayed at the back. 

It was a solemn affair. The death of Mrs Daniel was felt widely, although her children were'nt quite as popular. As the pastor pronounced: "Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes", and the men lowered the casket to the ground, i watched the back of Miss Daniel's black hat, with the veil covering her face, as she stepped up weakly, aided by her brother, to pick up a clump of sand and fling over the casket- whose top was covered with different scenting flowers. I remember i had placed a flower on the smooth wooden surface, along side almost everyone, it was a wild chrysanthemum, and i had whispered as i slowly placed it;   'thank you for those berries you let me pick always, and for taking care of my family and i'. -, repeating the solemn words, although i couldn't hear it from so far. As she stepped back and her brother took her position, i turned around, feeling in my heart, the lose of Mrs Daniel and pity for her children; no matter how unpleasant one was, it was still a sorrowful business to lose a loved one. I was glad that Mrs Daniel's children were adult, that meant no relative or lawyer could come and take their earthly goods away, of course, there was the issue of a will also.

I looked for my daddy in the crowd, but my eyes met Billy's over the crowd and he gave a sad smile, i smiled briefly back. He jerked his head to a direction and i searched to find what he was pointing to , then i saw my daddy. I turned back to smile at Billy and he winked at me, causing my face to flush. Shame on you Naomi, smiling and blushing in a funeral service.  I went to my dad. He was standing with some of his friends and coworkers. He pat me on the back and wound his arm  around my shoulder while the folks around nodded and smiled at me. After some time, he spoke over the murmuring of the crowd. Said, ' it's a mighty pity about Mrs Daniel, ain't it'? I nodded along with few others who were standing close enough to here us. 'And ta tink she died not long after she come back from visiting her son'. Someone added and everyone nodded again, except, now i was confused.

'Wasn't it London? That place is crawling with sickness'.

'Wonder why it had not been one of them hateful children of hers. Especially the son, that stuck up . . . '

'Should we be worried about the sickness being here? Should we . . .'

'Mrs Daniel's gone to be with the Lord', daddy interrupted, 'glory be to God'.

'Amen', everybody chorused. 'Now don't you go starting what you can't finish folks', he warned. When everyone had focused back to the happenings in front, daddy nudged me and motioned with his chin to where my mama was standing. I left to go stand by her and she smiled at me and as i wrapped my arm around her waist, i wandered what it would be like if one of our on died, if my mama died. Would we have a burial like this? Or would we be wrapped in a sack or cloth and flung into the sea or ocean to be carried away and then fall to the sea bed with nothing to remember us with. I wondered.

 I was glad to realise i was of equal heights with my mama, it was of of course later that i thought of this.

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It was later i found out that the cause of Mrs Daniel's death had been pox, which had raided London, leaving those it had not killed, scarred for life; outwardly, or inwardly like the Daniel family.

There is in this word, no certainty.