The Ballad of Ami Miles

by Kristy Dallas Alley

  They had just finished getting the wheels attached to the upside-down box I’d seen when I came looking for Jessie that day, and we all had to grab hold to help flip the whole thing over.

  “Now we gotta attach the rails,” Melissa said.

  “Yeah, don’t want clumsy over here fallin’ out and gettin’ run over,” Will said, pointing a thumb at his twin.

  “That only happened once!” Melissa objected, and everyone laughed. Nina and Penny got there not long after we did, and I guessed they hadn’t taken their sweet time walking over after lunch the way Jessie and I had. I tried not to cling too close to Jessie as we worked, but she never seemed to stray far from my side. She talked and laughed with the rest of them, but I could feel at least part of her attention on me the whole time, like she wanted to make sure I felt included. It was nice, but at the same time, I didn’t want her to feel like I couldn’t take care of myself. I made sure to do my fair share of the work, and I tried to speak up some instead of just listening to everyone else talk.

  “So this foundation is from a cabin that burned down?” I asked after a while, remembering what Hanna and Melissa had said about the covered work area where we were.

  “Ooh, that’s a good story! You tell it, Will,” Hanna said, smiling at him. I saw him roll his eyes, but Nina and Penny looked at each other and smirked.

  “Actually, I think Jessie tells it better,” Will said, and Hanna made a pouty face.

  “Will passed up a chance to hear himself talk,” Ben said. “Somebody write it down!” I expected Will to get mad at that, but he was laughing along with the rest of us.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Will said. “Go on, Jessie, you make it spookier than I can.”

  “Aw, now, I don’t know about that—” Jessie started, but everyone cut her off, begging her to tell it. “All right, all right, sheesh!” She laughed. The railing was finished by then, so we all climbed into the boxy platform and sat down inside. We just barely fit in a tight circle with our legs crisscrossed, and my right knee was touching Jessie’s left. She looked over at me and winked. The sun was past the treetops, and the shade of the roof above us made the shadows deeper.

  “Way I heard it,” Jessie started, “this spot right here was really the very first cabin built, not the last one on the row like we call it now. And the people that built it were the first ones here.” We were all leaning toward her a little, and I thought about the way everyone had gathered ’round to listen to her sing that first night I met her. She was like a magnet, pulling us in.

  “The man was some kinda politician, and he’d gotten this land in a government deal, all around both sides of the lake. But the family fortunes weren’t what they used to be, and he needed to make some money, so this man…”

  “Mr. George,” Penny called out.

  “That’s right,” Jessie said. “So Mr. George, he packed up his wife and little daughter and brought them out here to live in a cabin by the lake while he built this whole place. He had the idea that folks would come out here for the peace and quiet.”

  “And the fishing,” Ben added.

  “And the fishing,” Jessie said, nodding. “Problem was, Mother Nature didn’t want to cooperate. Seemed like she didn’t care for them big machines tearing up her skin to lay all these concrete foundations, nor the buzz saws clearing so many trees back from the edge of the lake.” The others were nodding in agreement, and I wondered how many times they’d all heard this story. “No sooner had they built this first cabin than she sent the storms, terrible storms with thunder and lightning, and they didn’t let up all summer long. It terrified the wife and daughter, who were already kinda nervous-like on account of they were city folks. And it slowed the whole operation almost to a standstill. Meanwhile, poor Mr. George was still havin’ to feed and house and pay all them workers he’d brought out here and set up in tents.”

  “Then the tornado struck!” Penny said.

  “That’s right,” Jessie went on. “That tornado was the last straw. Twenty men died with nowhere to hide, no protection but canvas tents. It was a miracle Mr. George and his family survived it, but that twister skipped right over their cabin. I guess that was his one piece of good luck. The workers that survived it packed it in and left, claiming the whole place was cursed.”

  “Because of how they stole it,” Melissa put in.

  “Stole it how? From who?” I asked, but it was Will who answered. So much for him passing up the chance to hear himself talk, I thought.

  “Lake Eufaula is man-made,” he said. “The Army Corps of Engineers dammed the Chattahoochee and flooded out a whole town of Creek Indians.”

  “Well, they moved them off the land first, but yeah,” Ben said. “Just one in a long list of land grabs by the US government.” Will looked at Ben admiringly. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but hearing them criticize the government gave me a little pang of homesickness.

  “Let me guess,” I said to chase it away, “there’s a book about all this in the library?” They all laughed and nodded. I liked making them laugh, especially Jessie.

  “Where was I?” she asked. “Oh right, so Mrs. George and her little daughter went back to her family up north after that, but Mr. George refused to leave. He’d sunk every penny he had in this place, and he wouldn’t give up on it. Some folks said he kept on working, trying to build a row of cabins by hand so he could get paying guests rollin’ through, but nobody really knew what he was up to. Winter set in, and it was just as bad as summer had been, but with snow and ice instead of lightning and tornadoes. There wasn’t a good road out here yet; the hi-way was a few years off. It was spring before anybody could come check on him, and by then all they found was the burned-out husk of this one cabin and a row of concrete foundations with nothin’ on ’em.

  “They say his bones were half-laid over the doorstep, like he tried to get away but the fire got him anyway. And on a stormy night, you can still hear him howlin’ over his lost fortunes.” It was full dark by then, and no one said a word for a few minutes. I felt the hairs on my arms stand up, I was so spooked.

  “Boo!” Nina said, breaking the spell. We all jumped about a mile, and then we were laughing. We climbed out of the float, stretching our legs and admiring our handiwork.

  “She looks pretty good,” Will said, “maybe a little plain.”

  “Yeah, we need to weave some colorful material through the rails, maybe,” Melissa said. “Make it look more festive.”

  “We brought a bunch back from this last trip,” Penny replied. “I’m sure there’s something there we can use. Y’all wanna come look?”

  “Sure!” Hanna said. All of us? I thought. I looked over and caught Jessie’s eye.

  “I don’t know, Penny,” Jessie said, “your mama might not want all of us bargin’ in on her and riflin’ through her stuff with no warning. Maybe we should do it another time, after you ask if it’s all right.”

  “Nah,” Penny said. “She won’t care. And besides, it’s my stuff too! I helped find a lot of it.” Jessie looked at me and shrugged, and I smiled and shrugged back. So far my new friends and my new family had been mostly separate for me, but it looked like they were about to come together whether I was ready or not. We cleaned up the work area a little, putting tools back in their places and stacking the extra scraps of wood over to one side, then started walking behind Penny toward her house. I could tell she liked being in the lead and figured it didn’t happen much since she was one of the younger ones in the group. I didn’t want to take anything away from that, so I dropped back until I was at the tail end with only Jessie beside me.

  “You okay?” she asked, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

  “Me?” I asked, stalling. She gave a low little laugh. “I’m fine,” I said. “I guess I’m just not sure how to act when we get there. Am I one of the family or one of the visitors?” I turned my head to look at Jessie. She shrugged and laughed again, then took my hand, and we walked along without talking for a min
ute before she spoke.

  “We don’t have to … I don’t want you to feel like I expect you to do this”—she lifted our hands up a little—“in front of your mama. I know things are already a little touchy between you and her, and then she said that stuff about not understanding that kind of love or whatever. And I know you’re still figuring out … what you want to do about everything, with going back home and all that.” She let her voice trail off. It felt like my heart dropped through my feet straight into a hole in the ground, but somehow, I was still walking and holding Jessie’s hand.

  “I don’t … I don’t know what to say,” I managed. “I don’t want you to think … I’m not…” She laughed again, maybe a little bit sad, but not angry at least.

  “It’s okay, Ami. Really. We’ve got time. You’ve got time. I’m not about to be another one that’s rushin’ you to figure out your whole life this very minute, okay?” I looked at her, and she looked me in the eye and smiled. “Okay?” she said again, and I nodded and squeezed her hand. We didn’t say anything else, and when we got close to my mama’s house, she let me go. I felt like I wanted to cry, but I knew she was right. I wasn’t ready.

  It turned out that I was mostly worried for nothing, though. It was almost dinnertime, and Mama and Marcus were in the kitchen together chopping vegetables. They said hi to everyone, and she wiped her hands on a towel before giving me a hug, but then they went back to their cooking and let us be. We all went on to the den and picked through the pile of fabric scraps, pulling out any little bit that was red, white, or blue, planning to go back and finish decorating the float after dinner at the lodge. I hoped I’d get a chance to be alone with Jessie sometime before the night was over, but just as we were getting ready to leave, Mama came out of the kitchen again.

  “Are you girls running off again? Ami, I was hoping you’d stay for supper?” I looked at Penny, who had clearly been on her way out the door to eat with her friends, and saw her shoulders sag as she gave me a little nod.

  “Oh … are you sure there’s enough?” I asked, not sure what else to say.

  “Lissie performs the loaves and fishes miracle on a daily basis,” Marcus said, laughing. “There’s always enough.”

  “Don’t worry,” Melissa said as they left. “We’ll get it all fixed up, and then y’all can be surprised tomorrow when you see it!” I caught Jessie’s eye and she gave me her crooked grin, and then they were gone. I wanted to be with them, but I knew I should be thankful to be spending this time with my family. I forced myself to pay attention to where I was and quit moonin’ over Jessie.

  Supper was fine, and we all let Penny carry the conversation. She was excited about tomorrow, and I was learning when Penny got excited, she talked. That was good because I could tell that we were all still a little raw and careful with each other after the disaster of our first day together and my mother’s comments the day before. I wondered if she had told Marcus about all that.

  After we ate and cleared away the dishes, Marcus said he’d handle the washing so Mama could finish fitting our dresses. They were the same material but slightly different styles, and Penny pranced around in hers, twirling to show off the full skirt. The top of mine felt tighter and closer to my body than anything I’d ever worn, but Penny said it looked a little loose through the waist, and Mama clucked and pinned, trying to get it just right. I guessed she’d had a lot more practice sewing for Penny. It didn’t take her long to take in the waist, though, and I was just about to head back to my room with it draped over my arm when Penny stopped me.

  “Hey, um, are you in a hurry to get back?” she asked, sounding a little bashful. I shook my head no and waited. “I just thought maybe, you know, you might want to hang out? With me? I wanted to show you … something.” She let her voice trail off and looked down at the floor, embarrassed. “But I mean, if you’re tired or whatever, it’s no big deal.”

  “I’m not tired,” I said. “I’d love to hang out.”

  “Great!” she said, leading me down the hall. “You’ve never seen my room and I just thought, well, that seems weird? And also I wanted to show you this.” We had reached her room, and she gestured to the walls. They were covered with drawings, or maybe one big drawing, depending on how you thought of it, that covered almost every inch from corner to corner and floor to ceiling.

  “What is it?” I breathed.

  “It’s my city,” Penny said. She was watching my face to try to tell if I liked it or not. Penny had imagined a city with buildings of all sizes and shapes, all in scale, with roads crisscrossing in between.

  “Penny, it’s … it’s amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it. You drew all this?” She nodded her head, pleased that I liked it.

  “I’ve been working on it since I was about twelve. Daddy is an artist, too, so everyone tries to bring him back colored pencils and paints and things when they go out scavenging. Some of this is crayons that we’ve melted down and re-formed.”

  I stepped into the little room, speechless, and tried to take in all the details. There were tiny people walking on sidewalks and cars driving on the streets. Clustered together in one section were tall towers, all corners and sharp edges, that almost reached the ceiling.

  “That’s downtown,” Penny said when she saw me studying it. “Big cities had a part called ‘downtown’ where all the offices and things were. So, like, every morning the people got in their cars or took trains and buses to work downtown, and then at night they went home again.” She pointed to another section that looked like little houses lined up on a grid.

  “I saw something like that,” I said, “on the way here to Lake Point. A whole empty town. Have you seen it, too? How did you…?” She shook her head.

  “No, I’ve only read about it. And I’ve seen some pictures in books. I’ve probably got it all wrong, but this is how I imagine it would have looked. Before.” I pulled my eyes away from the walls to focus on my sister.

  “Well, I’ve never seen a big city like this, but the part with the houses looks like what I saw. Except these houses don’t have trees growing through the roofs.” I laughed, but it didn’t sound right.

  “Was it terrible?’ she asked in a quiet voice. I nodded, surprised to feel a tear slip down my cheek.

  “It was so empty,” I said. “In a sad, lonesome, terrible way.”

  Penny hugged me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know…”

  “Don’t be silly!” I said, stepping back. “How could you have? And besides, this is so … I can’t imagine being able to do something like this. I’m no good at drawing, but even if I could do that part of it, I don’t think I could imagine all this the way you have.”

  “I bet that’s not true,” Penny said. “Everyone’s got an imagination. All that time you spent with no one to play with, you never imagined friends for yourself or anything like that?”

  “I did,” I said. “I forgot about that. But an imaginary friend is nothing like all this.”

  “Sure it is,” she said. “And besides that, everyone can draw. It just takes practice. A lot of practice if you want to get good at it.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to even start,” I said.

  “I could show you some things. To get started, you know? If you wanted.” She was bashful again. Here was this amazing girl who imagined whole cities and made them real on her walls, and she was shy about wanting to spend time with me.

  “I’d love that, if you’re sure you want to waste your time with a hopeless case.” I laughed. She rolled her eyes, but her voice sounded serious when she answered.

  “There’s no such thing as hopeless, Ami.”

  Twenty-Five

  The next morning, I woke up early, too excited about the day to go back to sleep. I showered quickly, then stood in front of the mirror, combing my wet hair into long, straight strands that fell to my hips. When it dried, it coiled up and shrank to hit right at my waist, but combed out wet I could see its true length. After we
finished working on the float the day before, I had seen a pair of scissors lying forgotten on a bench. Without thinking too much about it, I’d scooped them up and stuck them in my pocket. Now they were on the edge of the sink in front of me. I wondered if I could do what I was thinking of.

  I had what Jessie would call a love-hate relationship with my hair. It had always been there, fighting its way out of my braids and buns. It was hot and unruly and it got in my way, but it was part of me. Papa preached that a woman should never cut her hair, but no one at Lake Point seemed to believe that. My mother’s hair barely brushed her shoulders, and I wondered how long she’d been here before she was brave enough to cut it. She had tried to talk me into doing the same. Maybe if I cut it, she would feel like I had taken her advice. Maybe it would remind us both that we didn’t have to keep following the old ideas we’d learned at Heavenly Shepherd. Knock it loose, I heard Penny say.

  I gathered all the strands into a loose tail at the nape of my neck and tied it. My hair dried quickly, as thick as it was, and it was already starting to curl up. I didn’t want it to be too short, so I slid the tie down until it hung between my shoulder blades when I let the bundled hair drop. Then I picked it up again, grabbed the scissors, and before I could change my mind, I cut just above the tie. The scissors were old but had been recently sharpened, so it was surprisingly easy to saw through all the gathered hair, and then I was holding my ponytail in my hand. It felt strange to see a part of me cut off like that. I felt faint and had to sit down on the lid of the toilet and put my head between my knees for a minute. It’s okay, Ami, I told myself over and over, you’re fine.

  I wasn’t ready to look in the mirror yet, though, so I went back into the bedroom and put on my dress. It had little white buttons up the front, and I admired my mother’s skill at sewing buttonholes. I’ll have to get her to teach me that, I thought. Once I was dressed, I paced back and forth, trying to work up the courage to look in the mirror. My damp hair still covered my shoulders, but I knew that when it dried completely, it wouldn’t quite reach them. Finally, I took a deep breath and went to look.