New York - The Novel

dying.”

    That poor child was burning up with fever. It was terrible to see her. And Naomi was looking sick and starting to shiver too.
    “It was those slaves from the Boss’s ship,” she told me. “They’d been sold to the bouwerie we were at. They were sick when we arrived, and one of them died. I’m sure we did catch something from them.”
    But nobody knew what the sickness was. All that night my little Martha was burning up, and by morning she could hardly breathe. Naomi and I were tending her, but around the middle of the night Naomi started taking the same way too. So I bathed them with cold water to try to take the fever down, but it didn’t seem to do much good.
    Then in the morning, Miss Clara came to the door.
    “You mustn’t come in, Miss Clara,” I said. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
    “I know that, Quash,” she said. “But I want to tend to her.”
    I almost choked when she said that. But I called to the Mistress at once to warn her to keep Miss Clara away. And the Mistress told her she mustn’t go in. But Miss Clara had a will of her own. She wouldn’t give in, even to the Boss and the Mistress. She said she wasn’t leaving until she’dgiven Martha some herbal drink that’d be good for her, that she’d brought. And the Boss said, “Give the drink to Quash then,” but she wouldn’t. And she stood there holding Martha’s hand, and gave her the drink. Martha could hardly swallow it, but maybe it did her some good, for she was quieter then. I managed to get her out of the room after that.
    Well, about dusk, my little Martha died. Her mother being so exhausted had fallen into a fitful sleep a little while before. And not wanting the child’s body to be dead in the room with her, I picked Martha up and stole quietly down into the yard. And the Boss said I could put her in the stable for the time being, and that maybe I should bury her that night.
    When I got back to Naomi, she was trying to sit up and looking for Martha.
    “Where is she?” she cried.
    “It’s cooler down below,” I said. I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth just then. “She’s resting there a while.” But at that moment through the window we heard Clara weeping. So they must have told her.
    “She’s dead, isn’t she?” says Naomi. “My little Martha’s dead.”
    And I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t answer her. And then Naomi just fell back on her bed and closed her eyes.
    Later that night she began to take the fever really bad. She was shivering and burning.
    “I’m going, Quash,” she said to me. “I’m going tonight.”
    “You’ve got to hold on if you can,” I said. “We need you, Hudson and me.”
    “I know,” she said.
    The next morning it began to rain. Just a slow, steady rain. I was tending Naomi, so I had no thought of what else was passing in the world that day. But in the afternoon, the Boss came into the yard and asked after Naomi.
    “Have you heard the news?” he said to me then. “They executed poor Leisler today.”
    “I’m sorry, Boss,” I said.
    “The Mistress is taking it very hard,” he told me. “They gave him a traitor’s death.”
    I knew what that meant. They hang you, but not long enough to kill you. Then they tear out your bowels and cut your head off. It was hard to think of such a thing happening to a gentleman like Meinheer Leisler.
    “He was no more a traitor than I am,” said the Boss. “The people aretaking pieces of his clothes as relics. They say he’s a martyr.” He sighed. “By the way, Hudson should remain in the kitchen tonight, I think.”
    “Yes, Boss,” I said.
    That night, the rain continued. I wondered if the coolness would help Naomi, but it didn’t seem to. Up to the middle of the night, the fever was causing her to toss and turn, and cry out. Then she grew quieter. Her eyes were closed, and I couldn’t tell if she was getting better or losing the fight. Toward dawn, I realized that the rain had stopped. Naomi’s breathing was shallow and she seemed very weak. Then she opened her eyes.
    “Where’s Hudson?” she said.
    “He’s fine,” I told her.
    “I want to see him,” she whispered.
    “You mustn’t,” I said.
    She seemed to sink after that. About dawn I got up and went outside for a moment, to breathe some fresh air and look at the sky. It was clear. The morning star was in the east.
    When I came back in, Naomi had gone.

    The days after the funeral, the Boss and the Mistress were very