Page 34 of It’s Me They Follow

The Shopkeeper put the receiver down. Gripped her towel around her and stomped back toward the pool and got inside.

Her sister still appeared to be bargaining, asking for forgiveness and praying and crying and breathing and cursing, all back-to-back, but low and under her breath like she was leading an exorcism.

Their grandmother sat in her chair, reading an old recipe book. She didn’t look up at the two sisters.

The Shopkeeper got up close to her sister and whispered in her ear, “I am not gonna let you go through this alone.” She reached for Elle’s hand under the water.

And meant to grab it, fully aware that she might pass out, but also hoping that the water and the herbs made a difference and somehow protected them both.

When she found her sister’s hand, she grabbed it.

Her sister snatched her hand back. “Just because you’re ready doesn’t mean I am.

” It had been a lifetime. But when the next contraction came, Elle found her hand underwater and squeezed it as hard as she could.

“Bear down,” their grandmother hollered, loud.

“Bear down and breathe.” Having a baby is hard and catching a baby is hard, but being a baby is harder.

The baby came headfirst, face up—the best position to be birthed; the only issue was, the baby had a big head.

It ran in the family. The baby had known for months that it would be difficult to move its ever-growing head through the short, narrow tunnel of its very petite host. So it had devised a plan to escape.

It thought that it could be most helpful to its host if, instead of coming headfirst, it came out feetfirst and completely in its bag to make the passage easier.

It’d charted this course months ago and proceeded to strengthen its legs and its amniotic sac with exercises.

It kicked and stretched and kicked and stretched and tested the resolve of its bag day in and day out.

What it hadn’t planned for was the first water break in the restaurant.

It’d had to patch that hole quickly with its thumbs.

That gave it exactly enough time to get Down South to Grandmother’s house and have the pool filled up before it had to be delivered.

But time was up, and it was coming out with the next push whether it wanted to or not.

No matter what, the baby resolved to be born in its sac.

“It’s time,” their grandmother said from her rocking chair, staring out into the woods.

“I need to push.” Elle followed, bearing down on the back of the pool. “Please do your part,” she whispered to The Shopkeeper, with desperation in her eyes. “Please.”

The Shopkeeper had made up her mind. She didn’t need convincing.

She’d catch the baby and hand them to her sister in one fell swoop; if the touch shocked her, she’d fall forward, but at least the baby would have her sister.

She told herself, Fall forward and not back.

The first few pushes did nothing. There was a lot of noise and pain.

But finally, there was a push that moved that entire sac through the narrow passage feetfirst. The baby held on tighter and tighter to the hole in their bag.

Their heart rate escalated, their blood pressure on the rise, and when they finally slid feetfirst toward their auntie’s wide-open arms, even under the pool water, they never let go of their sac as the herbs and spices decorated them.

The Shopkeeper caught it, a baby still inside a slippery, fleshy bag of cloudy, nutrient-rich water, and flung them to her sister, who had the entire bag pop right there on her face and her chest. Inside the bag was her baby, who stared blankly at them both for a second, which made them all think that maybe something was wrong.

Elle said, “Breathe,” to the baby, but everyone needed to breathe, and so they did.

The baby let out a holler like they couldn’t believe.

Elle smiled, and The Shopkeeper fell back into the water instead of forward as she’d planned.

As she went under, baptized, the water jolted her back up and above it immediately.

Herbs and flowers in her face and mouth.

“It’s a girl,” she said.

“Emmy.” Her sister said the name.

“ME?” their grandmother asked. “Like the man who was here yesterday?”

The Shopkeeper was soaked and stupefied. “Who?”

“Yeah, a man stopped by here yesterday smelling some kinda sweet. Told me he was a monk in training, and I told him I don’t train monks.

He said his name was ME. I said, ‘Oh, like ME?’ And he said, ‘Yes.’ He told me he was my sister friend’s nephew and therefore my nephew and he needed some guidance.

He was at a crossroads on his journey and a bit lost. I liked him so much, we had a bit of mint tea and honey on the porch. ”

I knew it , The Shopkeeper thought to herself. That they’d get along. “Did he ask about me?” The Shopkeeper said.

“He asked if I really thought you could do this. I told him you were the only one who could and thanked him for helping us pull it off with the love letters. But now ME was really in love with you.”

The Shopkeeper was in love too. “ME,” she said to herself, laying her head on the side of the pool. She stared at her newborn niece, even more in love. “It’s not ME they follow, it’s you.” She smiled and then drifted off to sleep.

“Exactly, and now you get it,” their grandmother agreed. “The footsteps that follow.”

Grandmother always speaks in riddles , The Shopkeeper thought as she dreamed.

She woke up three days later in her childhood bed to piping hot mint tea and honey and their grandmother reciting her incantations out loud.

“The truck is packed when you’re ready,” her grandmother said, and then went back to reciting.

“What truck?” The Shopkeeper whispered, her voice quiet from underuse.

“The baby is fine,” their grandmother added. “Cute as a bunny. Your sister is fine too. We put a blessing on you when you were asleep.” Their grandmother puffed weed smoke in The Shopkeeper’s face as she looked her over. “You’re ready.”

“What truck?” The Shopkeeper asked again.

“ME sent it. It had furniture in it too. Him and a few of his friends loaded it with the books you need to open the bookshop.” She winked. “So, like I said, the truck is packed when you’re ready.”

“Where is he?” The Shopkeeper asked.

“He said he was sad that you two had missed each other, but he had to go back to training. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear for a good long time. And kissed your lips before he left. We figured it would be okay since you were already passed out. He said you tasted like soul food. When he was done, he disappeared off behind the weeping willow tree. Nice guy, just a bit confused about his calling.” Their grandmother winked.

“It happens, sometimes what you hear and what you want to hear are two different things.”

The Shopkeeper licked ME’s kiss from her lips and dozed back off to sleep.