Woman In Black

By
Barbara Kaufman-Strutton

There she was again, dressed all in black and with a black scarf on her head tied under chin, under the late July sun. She has to be cooking in that stuff, thought Brenda. The little woman was hunched over walking very slowly, as usual. Her limp was more noticeable today, even with the ever present crocked cane in one hand. In the other hand she carried the same black net bag which held the brown grocery bag filled with what ever she had managed to gather alone the way, where ever that was.

Brenda had watched her for years now, mostly from far off like now, as she sat on the porch of the old farmhouse, she was up on a hill away from the twisting gravel road below. Or from much closer, at one of her girlfriends houses down the road. Some times, she'd even seen the old woman working in what she expected was a garden, beside the tiny gray weathered house on the gravel road to the north of her parent's farm, all she could really see however were tall dried weeds and an occasional eight-foot sunflower.

A sudden motion caught Brenda's eye and cleared her mind of its musings. A rabbit had leaped from its hiding place in the ditch at the side of the road, and sprang up onto the road about five feet in front of the old lady. In an instant, it was across the road and running along the creek-bank just as fast as its little tail could propel it. While watching the cottontail bobbing, Brenda could hear the cause of the disturbance. Mr. Benjamin's beagle was bounding along the fence row with nose to the ground between leaps in the air to see over the weeds and rusty old wire fence after its prey and heading straight for the old woman. It wasn't until then that Brenda realized that she had fallen.

The girl sat frozen for a moment, while the black clad body in the distance lay perfectly still, the legs at different angles and one arm stretched out in front, still holding the black net bag, the other hand and cane were hidden from sight.

Brenda stood, but still didn't move from the spot. What should she do, her heart was pounding in her chest, she was in the cool shade, but felt hot and cold at the same time, her fingers tingled and couldn't hear any of the familiar sounds around her. She was looking at the road but seeing only a bright haze.

"Snap out of it," a distant voice told her, "you must do something." She started toward the door, then stopped, surely someone will come by. She turned again and looked up and down the road below. Nobody was in sight, and she could see almost a mile to the north. If only Mom and Dad were home, but they were both at an all day auction about ten miles away and Mr. Benjamin, the widower who lived on the large farm across the road, was with them. They wouldn't be back until late this evening. It would be at least twenty minutes before the local ambulance could get here, if needed. She looked back to the black bundle on the road, no movement.

Again she turned, ran in the door and to the newly installed black desk phone, she could still see the place on the wall where the old wooden crank phone had hung all those years. She was so thankful that she no longer had to listen to all the different rings before answering only theirs, two longs and one short, on the ten-party-line. It was still a three-party-line and she prayed that it wouldn't be in use now.

As she looked out the window to keep an eye on that dreaded spot in the road, she dialed Janet, she would come if she was at home. Janet was younger than her by two years, but like Brenda, she was compassionate for other living things, she too was always bring home wounded or orphaned animals to nurse back to health. Janet's mother was a teacher and encouraged both girls in their efforts. Their house was only a short distance down the road from where old Mrs. Winters lay.

On the fifth ring there was a click and for a few seconds Brenda heard only heavy breathing, finally following a deep sigh, Mrs. Clark said, "Yes, may I help you?"

"Mrs. Clark this is Brenda, is Janet there?" Brenda asked, wondering how to go on.

"Yes dear, she's mowing the yard." She was starting to breath a little easier now, "But could she call you back in a few minutes? She's almost through."

"Oh, Mrs. Clark, could you please call the ambulance, and send Janet down the road in front of my House? I'm going right down to see how she is but I don't think we should wait." Brenda's heart had slowed slightly but thought off what she may face down at the road made it harder to breath.

"Brenda, calm down dear. What happened? Who is hurt?" Her voice was louder than Brenda had ever heard it before, even when she got mad at Janet, she did it with a nerve-racking, calm voice.

"It's Mrs. Winters, she has fallen, but I can't see how badly she's hurt. I have to go," as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she pleaded, "please send Janet." When the receiver was halfway to the cradle, she heard, "We'll be right..." Brenda was out the door.

Her blue Schwinn leaned against the old oak in the barnyard, it always was on nice days when Brenda was inclined to ride often. She was a very good rider, a fact that her over protective mother questioned. Brenda could not remember how many hundreds of times she had ridden the bike down the long gravel lane since she got it, four years ago on her twelfth birthday. Still, Brenda never got on the bike until she was hidden by the barn, where Mom couldn't see her ride down the steep gravel lane at breakneck speed. But Mom wasn't home now, so Brenda was off and running, and jumped on the bike as it started down the incline at the end of the barn. The loose gravel made the ride dangerous, but with her full concentration, the quarter-mile ride ended in less than a minute.

Brenda skidded to a loose gravel stop, dropped the bike and ran across the single-lane bridge. Mrs. Winters lay about ten feet away from where Brenda stopped, there was still no movement, but she thought she heard a faint sound. She stood glued to the road, the other kids said that the old woman was a witch, the adults told them to stay away from her, that she had a mean streak. Brenda could not recall ever seeing her talking to any other person in their neighborhood.

The sound came again, a faint moan, a little louder that before. One step at a time, Brenda moved closer. At first the old lady looked deformed, with points and corners in places they couldn't be, a picture of the skeleton hanging in the school biology lab flashed through her mind. Mrs. Winters was much too thin, the hand that was visible had large knots at each joint. The rest of her frail body was covered in old frayed black broadcloth and her black crocheted shawl half covered her head.

Cautiously, Brenda when to the old woman's side and knelt down, and slowly reached out to place her hand softly on the skeletal shoulder. Another moan, then an eye opened. Brenda jerked her extended hand back and sat down hard on her heals. Her hands were shaking and she grabbed one hand with the other and held them tightly to her chest.

Brenda looked down the road. Would they come? Had they changed their minds? Would she have to help all by herself? What would this old creature do to her? Then she startled herself and she said, "What could she do to me."

In answer, a frail voice, in an unfamiliar accent said, "I won't hurt you, if I could I wouldn't be here now."

Taken back, for only a moment, she thought, of course not, if she could, she would have saved herself from the fall, and for that matter, if the old lady were really a witch, she wouldn't be walking at all. There have to be easier ways to travel, or brings the things she needed to her.

When Brenda found her voice again, she asked, "How may I help? Where do you hurt?" She looked up the road and prayed. She could see Janet and her mother coming out of their lane in the old blue Plymouth. Why the car, she wondered.

"I don't think anything is broken, every thing moves with no more pain than usual. I just had the wind knocked out of me." The voice was low and gravely. "If you could just help me turn over, the gravel is so hard on these old bones. Give me your hand, dear, and I'll do most of the work myself, that way we won't cause any further damage." she smiled weakly.

Brenda extended her hands again, and the cold, thin-skinned hand took hold, more firmly than expected. As she lifted her arm, the gavel fell away. The other hand came out of the ditch, as Mrs. Winters started to rise, first on her elbow, then on her right palm. Briefly, while her hand was turned, Brenda saw blood oozing from the raw scrapes. A much louder grown now, but brief, then the lips were tightly closed to form a thin blue line, as the old bones came into a sitting position.

Mrs. Winters opened her eyes and managed a slight smile just as the car came to a slow stop behind Brenda.

"The ambulance is on the way, but I brought some pillows and blankets, and bandages." Mrs. Clark said as she got out and quickly opened the back door.

Janet came to the woman's side, two pillows under her arm, but apparently tongue-tied, she just stared down at the black-clad creature on the road. Her friend grabbed a pillow and extending it, asked Mrs. Winters to lift her hand, then placed it on the gravel for her to lean on.

"Oh, no dear, I must get it dressed first, so I won't soil the case." Her voice was polite but firm.

Mrs. Clark was there then. "Are you cold dear?"

But before the older woman could answer, Brenda blurted out, almost yelling, "Oh, yes. She's freezing."

"No. No, I'm fine."

"But your hands, they're so cold." Just like mine in winter, Brenda thought.

"My, dear child, I'm used to that." The laugh that followed as cut short with a sharp intake of breath. "My side, I believe its bruised." The words were said with a long slow exhale, as she slowly reached a hand to the spot under her arm.

Mrs. Clark, usually a very calm, controlled person, had shaking hands and a loud voice, as she came closer, and asked, "Do you think you can stand with assistance and get into my car? That gravel must be very painful for you."

"Thank you dear, but all I really need are those blankets to sit on, if you'll only help me a little. I'll rest a few minutes and then I'll be on my way." A sweet smile showed small yellowed teeth, one made of gold.

"Yes, yes, we'll help, but the ambulance will be here in a few minutes and you must go in for a check up." Janet's mother was much calmer now, but still showing great concern. She directed the girls and the three of them worked together, and had the blankets under the old lady in one smooth motion. I've lifted new mown hay-bales heavier than that, Brenda thought.

Mrs. Clark went back to the trunk of her car and after a few moments, returned with a small blue and white box topped with a red cross. She also had a plastic bag of clean white rags, and another with a wash cloth. "Here Brenda, check that hand for pebbles and brush away the dirt with this washcloth." she instructed. "I'll fold these cloths into strips, and Janet, there's some first aid cream in there, have it ready please." And handed the box to her daughter.

"I have a container of fresh water strapped to my bike, could I pour that over her hand first? In the class we had at school, the instructor said that would remove more dirt with less damage." Brenda said, grateful that she might have learned something worthwhile after all. She could never be sure that she'd ever use the things they taught at school.

"Good thinking, Brenda." The teacher spoke now. "It would be much better, much better indeed." She gave both girls a broad smile, as they all set about their tasks.

In only minutes, the hand was cleaned dried, and creamed. Mrs. Clark was beginning to apply the bandages, when they heard the ambulance in the distance. It was a clear sunny day so they sound would travel a greater distance, so there was still a few minutes before it arrived. Mrs. Winters had tolerated the move to the blankets and the attention to her hand without a word of objection, but now she said, "I won't go. I can't. I have not insurance and I won't take charity." She had set her head at a stubborn angle as she spoke, and anyone could she that she meant what she said.

"Will you a least let the men check you over? They're trained to do just that." The teacher again, she was very calm now. She had been trained to cope with difficult children and young adults and she tried to apply some of that knowledge in this situation.

Brenda imagined she could see the wheels turning in her friends head and cancelled a grin with one hand. The ambulance was only a little way on the other side of the hill at Janet's house now and would be here within the minute.

Mrs. Clark again knelt down in front of the frail old woman with the strong stubborn streak, "Well, what are we going to tell them when they stop? We shouldn't argue in front of them, they might get the wrong impression about your stability and depth of awareness."

Sly thought Brenda, I'll have to remember that approach.

"Well, I guess I'll allow then to check, but I won't go." she said in the strongest clearest tone yet, as she looked the other lady straight in the eyes.

"If they feel you need some further attention, might I call a good friend of mine, who is also a doctor." She quickly stayed off the rising protest with an extended finger and continued. "He is a great lover of wild birds and I'm sure would make the house call in return for a couple of those beautiful sunflowers you raise, if not now, in the fall." Her tone was so hopeful, Brenda had crossed her fingers so it would insure the right answer.

"I only have one ready now, but I have eight new stocks that are doing find, later he can take what he thinks is fair." The smile had returned to her face as the ambulance pulled up behind the car.

"That will be fine. If I know John, he'll be delighted." She said, and then turn as the two men approached.

They introduced themselves, asked what had happened, and went through their evaluation of the old lady's injuries. They determined that there didn't seem to be any serious damage, but recommended that she see her own doctor or go to the hospital to be sure, rather than risking any further damage.

Mrs. Clark assured them that someone would see her, this afternoon, and they mad the appropriate notations on the clipboard, and departed. After they had gone, she turned to Mrs. Winters and said, "Well we need to get you home and call John." She held her hand up and the protest died on the other woman's lips, "He was coming out later today anyway, and I'm sure he won't mind coming a little early."

"I'm ashamed to ask, but would it be possible to go to your house, it is closer?" the old lady bowed her head and waited for the answer.

Mrs. Clark and the girls looked at each other, then back at the frail figure still on the ground. With a sudden realization o f the situation, Mrs. Clark said, "Yes, dear, that will be fine, in fact better for us all. And when John is done, Brenda and Janet may take you home in my car. Brenda recently got her license," she added, smiling at the two girls. "And I understand from her mother that she dose quite well."

Mrs. Winters was looking at the three of them, but her expression was unreadable as she said. "If it's not too much trouble."

Answering her that everything would be fine, the two girls helped her to the car that Mrs. Clark had pulled up along side them.

Minutes later, they all sat in Mrs. Clark's kitchen drinking a hot cup of tea and nibbling on some homemade cookies. The old woman set quietly, taking each bit and sip with care, to enjoy each sensation in turn.

Then, while Mrs. Clark was on the pone, Brenda and Janet talked quietly with Mrs. Winters. In that short time they learnt that the accent came from her native Russia, where she had lived until she was twenty-four. Then she came to American and met and married her husband. They also discovered that she play the piano well and that she had once taught at the university in the city ten miles to the East.

Several hours later, after being examined by John and told them all that for her age she was in good health, to which Mrs. Winters only nodded her agreement, and promised to call Mrs. Clark and Dr. John if there were any further problems. And after making arrangements to have the sunflower picked up in the fall, they all went out they door.

Before the girls and old woman got in the car, Mrs. Clark add fresh garden vegetables to the bag that already held cookies and oranges, all with deaf ears to the protests. Everyone there felt that the gift was really appreciated and needed.

When Brenda pulled into the long weed choked lane that led to Mrs. Winters weather beaten house, the car could go no further. The old woman got slowly out of the car, hugging her bag of treasures. She insisted that she would go the rest of the way alone. However, Brenda's stubbornness prevailed, and she walked with her to the door, while Janet sat in the car, thankful for its safety and hoping her friend would soon return.

After they had got beyond the high weeds, Brenda was surprised to see a large garden with only a few weeds here and there. Among the rows of vegetables, were some that Brenda did not recognize. She question her new friend about them and learned that they were plants from the old country. Grown from seeds that she continued to cultivate each year. Mrs. Winters asked her to come back in a few weeks when they were ripe, she said she would be glad to give some to her and Mrs. Clark, in partial gratitude for their welcome assistance today.

"Oh, thank you very much, Mrs. Winters, that isn't necessary, but I would be happy to help you with the garden and the harvest when ever needed." Brenda said, she was sincere and she wanted to tiny lady as much as possible and she was sure her mother would feel the same way.

"Thank you every much child, but I don't want to get you in trouble with your parents, they may not approve." Mrs. Winters raised her hand to stop the protest, "ask your mother first, then we'll see." With that the old woman turned and went throw the creaking door. Brenda stood for a long moment looking at the old battered structure, it didn't look like it had ever been panted. Up close, it didn't look much smaller that her own home. They had moved to the farm when she was seven, and it hadn't been lived-in in a decade, but it never looked like this dilapidated dwelling. Looking up, she saw windows missing and part of the roof was gone, the place had to leak like a sieve, she thought. She turned and slowly walked back to the car, all the time she had the feeling she was being watched, but she didn't look back.

When she got into the car, Janet started firing questions. "What took you so long? I thought you weren't coming back at all. Did you go in, what did it look like? Did it look scary, oh Brenda talk to me." Finally she took a breath and waited for the answers.

"Oh, Janet, I don't think any of that stuff we've heard is true. She's just a lonely old lady that nobody has taken the time to understand." She said no more, to her bewildered friend. Back Home