What Momma Left Behind

by Cindy K. Sproles

  This man had the heart of a saint, and though I thought it a little queer that he kept showin up like he did, he was a welcome sight.

  “Sun’s comin up,” he said. “You ready to head to Hartsboro?”

  I looked at Justice and waited for his approval.

  “Trust, Worie. You have to give me some trust.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Might as well go. Ain’t gettin no younger.”

  I wasn’t right with leavin Justice to fend off his hankerin for the drink, but I needed to find them babies. I never was close to Calvin. Justice was the one who tended me when Momma was away. Now he was all the family I had. I pulled him down to me and kissed his cheek. “Promise me you’ll watch these girls. Promise!”

  “I’ll be right here with Ely. They will be fine. We’ll see to it.”

  “Me and the preacher might be gone a few days.”

  “Alright.” Justice made his way to the barn and brought Sally back ready to travel. He handed me my bag.

  I looked toward the barn, and there was Doanie, peepin—something she was real good at doin. I squatted and motioned her to me. The child bolted from the barn, Abeleen right behind her. Them arms wrapped tight around my neck. Doanie went to cryin.

  “Stop with them tears. We’re gonna find them. Until then we don’t waste good time bawlin. Understand me?”

  Doanie nodded. Abeleen took her by the hand. “She’ll be fine, Miss Worie. I’ll see to it.” The sun bounced off Abeleen’s freckles and her teeth gleamed in the light. I cupped her cheek and kissed her head.

  “I know she’s in good hands.” I give them one more hug, then put my foot in Justice’s hand for a lift. “I might be gone a few days this time.”

  Justice shook Pastor Jess’s hand. “Take care of my sister.”

  “Will do.”

  Ely moseyed out. He flipped the saddlebag open and dropped a bag of gun shells inside. He slid Daddy’s shotgun into its scabbard while Bess added some biscuits to the bag. “You remember. Wrongs don’t make a right.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll remember.”

  “And you remember everthing happens in the good Lord’s timin. So if’n you don’t see this workin hows you think it orta . . . ’member that. A body should never underestimate the good Lord’s timin.” Ely patted my knee. He give Sally a tap on the rump. “Hup there, girl.”

  Pastor Jess took the lead, and just as we turned onto the path, a horse and rider rounded the bend.

  “Hold up. Wait! You might need an extra hand.” Trigger eased his horse between me and the pastor. “Body can’t go wrong with an extra hand.”

  Pastor Jess shook his head, then kneed his horse. “We got a day’s ride ahead.”

  I twisted in the saddle to see the girls wavin their goodbyes. Justice tapped his heart twice and waved. All I could hear in my head was, Trust. They has to be some trust.

  We made the bend and the breeze carried the smell of rhododendron blooms. Lilac and mint mixed into the scents. I reckon today was as good as any to learn trust.

  They wasn’t a lot said as we worked our way around the mountain toward Hartsboro. It was plain to Pastor Jess I wasn’t in no mood to jaw. They was a lot to take in. A lot to put together. I patted my bag to be sure the jar was there. They was no doubt Momma’s Bible was there. It weighed as much as a small stuffed turkey. But them was the two things I needed to hold tight to.

  We rode the better part of the day before we stopped. The horses was hot and the river had hit a quiet, shallow spot. Pastor Jess climbed out of his saddle and extended his hand, but Trigger grabbed me by the waist and slid me off Sally. I know I ain’t always the sharpest nail in the pouch, but it was becomin clearer and clearer there was an unspoken gentlemanly feud goin on. Trigger took Sally by the harness, and I pulled his hand down and took hold myself.

  “I got her.” I’d done pulled my shoes off and stepped in the icy Indian River. Water wasn’t no deeper than my ankles, so me and Sally meandered across the river. They is nothin better than wadin in the river. It’s one of them things that freezes your toes but calms your mind.

  A school of minners splashed past my toes, and just upstream you could see trout leapin the rapids.

  “Worie, you hungry?” Pastor Jess shouted across the river. “Miss Bess give me some cured ham.”

  I remembered the biscuits she slipped into Sally’s bag, so the two of us sloshed back across the water.

  “Bess give me biscuits. Oughta make a good dinner with your ham.” I dropped the reins over a tree branch and flipped open my saddlebag. Bess had outdone herself. Biscuits and a small wrapped bowl of jelly. “Boys, we have a feast.” I smiled as I sat on a stump between the two men.

  “Good Father. Bless this food.”

  The pastor caught me mid-bite. I nearly choked, tryin to swallow my bite fast enough to bow my head.

  “I ask, heavenly Father, for your hand of protection over us. Give us direction so we do what is right in savin them children. Bless this food to our body and give goodness to the hands that made it. In the Lord’s name. Amen.”

  The men work their way through that cured ham like a squirrel gnawin on a walnut. “Good?” I asked. They grinned, jaws stuffed full.

  I took a few bites, then wrapped the towel around my biscuit. My stomach turned at the thoughts of Momma’s lie. Justice could call it a secret, but to me, it was still a lie.

  It was hard to imagine Calvin anything other than my elder brother, but knowin what I did started to make a few things add up. Nothin over this jar, but things when we was kids. Like Calvin’s hair so blond it was nearly white. And his skin pale. My skin, and Justice’s too, was a brown. Me and Justice could play together when we was youngins, but Calvin shied away. Justice was gentle and helpful. Calvin was never happy. I never remember him laughin or findin joy in anything. It was like he was always angry. Momma would tell him to look for the honey, not the sour grapes in life, but honey was never something Calvin considered.

  I wondered if Calvin knew where he come from. Or why he was so angry, always feelin like the world owed him something.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” Pastor Jess nudged me. “Worried about them children?”

  My head nodded real easy. “Yes.” I dried my feet and put my shoes on.

  “Seems like they is something more on your mind. You wanna get it off your chest?”

  Trigger butted in. “Pastor, give the lady her room.”

  I rolled my eyes. They was no lettin up from Trigger. He had to get his jab in from when the pastor called his hand at the forge.

  “Come to think of it, they is something I’d like to say to you both.”

  The men inched closer.

  “Pastor, you’re a kind man and I’m much obliged by your kindness to help me. But I’m gettin the nudgin that you’d like to be closer. And Trigger. I turned you down once, and despite what my heart still feels for you, now ain’t the time. So I’d be obliged if the both of you would stop this boyish banter. I got more on my mind than this.” I stood and headed toward Sally. “This where you wanna cross the river to head to Hartsboro?”

  The pastor nodded. So I jumped, landin on my stomach in the saddle, and pulled myself up. “Come on, Sally. Let’s get a head start.” I pulled her reins and inched her to the river. “I’ll see you boys on the other side. Take your time.”

  Sally fiddled around crossin. She’d take a few steps, then bend that long, sleek neck down to suck in a taste of water, but we finally crossed. I give her a little nudge, and just as she picked up her pace, my gut give me that sick feelin. I pulled her to a halt and turned from side to side. The river rolled to one side, and the edge of the woods laid to the other. They was something watchin me. Something gnawin at my craw.

  I swung my leg over the saddle and took hold of Daddy’s shotgun. My feet hit the ground with a thump. I opened the chamber and saw Ely had loaded the double barrel. That was good. With one swift motion, I clicked both hammers back and walked to the woods.

  “I reckon the pa
stor and Trigger is crossin the river right now. They’ll be up with me soon. You best work your way out so I can see you.”

  The weeds rustled and a young girl raised her head. I squinted hard to see in the shade of the woods. “Ellie?”

  The girl worked her way out of the woods.

  “Ellie Olsen. Where’s your brothers and sisters? Whatta you doin out here? It’s been you followin me all along, ain’t it?”

  She held up her hand to stop me from talkin. “Miss Worie, I’m sorry about your momma.”

  “That’s mighty kind of you, but you still ain’t answered my questions.”

  “Can I come closer?” She pointed at the gun.

  I let the hammers down and hung the gun under my arm. She walked straight to me and laid her head on my shoulder. The girl cried for a spell. My arm inched up and around her neck.

  “Where’s your brothers and sisters? They was a passel of you youngins.”

  She snubbed and swiped at her nose. “The twins, Joshua and Mark, died. So did Eliza, the least one. They took sick not long after Momma died. They was nothin I could do but herd the rest of the youngins into the barn away from the sick ones. Matthew and Robert loaded the wagon and I sent them toward the gap. Told them boys to stop at homeplaces and ask if they could work for food while they tried to make their way to one of Daddy’s people in Saunder’s Gap.” Her shoulders shook from the sobs. “Worie, I didn’t know what else to do except to find you. I couldn’t take no chance of the rest of them growin sick.”

  “It’s alright. I know what it means to do what you have to do. Why didn’t you just come to me instead of hidin away?”

  “You had them other children. I couldn’t ask.”

  “Ellie, what are you, fourteen, fifteen?”

  “I’m fifteen.”

  “You’re a woman. Stand up straight and act like one.”

  She took a step back, shocked that I called her out.

  “Body can’t take care of theirself if they’re wallerin in pity. You did what you had to do. That’s that. Now you step up.”

  “But I don’t know what to do. Where to go.”

  “You’ll stay with me. I got things to work out. We’ll figure something out to help you find your siblins. That alright with you?”

  She hugged me again. “Thank you.”

  “No need for thanks. I got the pastor and Trigger comin up behind me. We gotta make them see a reason for you to go to Chattanooga.”

  “Miss Worie?”

  I clasped my fingers together so I could boost her up on Sally. Her foot pressed into my hand and she bounced, one, two, three. “Up you go.” I climbed in front of her and tapped Sally. “What’s you want to say?”

  “I’ve been lookin for Calvin.”

  I turned. “What? Why do you want Calvin?”

  “I’m with child.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY

  I leaned forward and rested my head on Sally’s neck. Her wiry mane brushed against my lashes ever time I blinked. The wind was sucked outta me a second time in one day. My stomach was already churnin and this was like addin fuel to the fire, and it didn’t seem like this fire was gonna go out anytime soon.

  “Miss Worie?” Ellie rubbed the middle of my back. “Miss Worie, you alright?”

  I couldn’t get no words out without the bile crawlin into my mouth, so I reached one hand back and patted her knee. All the girl knew to do was scratch my back, and for what it was worth, the chills the scratchin made calmed my need to vomit.

  It took me a minute before I could speak, and in the meantime the girl went to snubbin and whimperin. I’d just told her to act like a woman. Seemed I needed to take my own advice. I swallowed hard and raised up. They was no lookin at her. Instead I give Sal a little tap and we headed down the path along the river.

  “Worie? You gonna be silent for long?” Ellie asked. “I didn’t mean to make you mad at me. I can go away. Not cause you no trouble. I understand.”

  “Oh, stop that whinin. I just needed to catch my breath. They’s been one shock after the next today. Sometimes a body just has to get their wits about them. And I ain’t mad at you. I’m upset for you.”

  If the girl only knew all the bull I’d been through.

  I gasped. There it was again. My own selfishness risin to the surface. This young girl had been through so much. She was forced to make decisions nobody should have to make. Here I was, comparing my own sorry self to her. I was ashamed. Ashamed that I could let myself be as bad as if not worse than Calvin.

  Daddy would sit on the porch at night and chew a twig. He’d tell us what he expected of us. Momma’d pull out the good book and read. Funny what a body remembers, but I remember her quotin the Lord. “‘He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?’” Momma and Daddy might not have been right in all they did, but they was never a question about what they expected of us. Calvin heard them same words over and over. But even as a boy, he never took heed. Momma worried too. She’d plead with him to do right by folks. I reckon some of us ain’t cut out to do right.

  “I’m sorry, Worie. I reckon I’ve upset you.” Ellie pulled a cloth from her pouch and blew her nose.

  “When did you lay with Calvin?”

  Ellie went to snubbin again, and finally she spit out the words. “It wasn’t by choice. My brothers and sisters was sick and starvin. They was dyin.”

  “That ain’t no reason to lay with a man,” I snapped.

  “They was more to it than that. See, Calvin promised he had a bottle of medicine that could make Eliza better. He said he would give it to me if I would do one thing.”

  “I reckon that one thing was to lay with him?”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  One more time I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t fault the girl too much, she was just a young woman. When I come of age, Momma told me, “Worie, your body can harbor babies now. Don’t listen to them young boys after you like a dog in heat. They’ll tell you anything to lay with you.”

  “Law help me. What did he want from you?” I asked Ellie.

  “A rock. A little red rock.”

  I reared my head up and took notice. “I need you to do some explainin. I ain’t following you.”

  They was no question what the rock was, but what wasn’t comin together was how the Olsens woulda had one. And how Calvin would have knowed. This would make three stones. Three.

  “Go on. Keep talkin,” I said.

  “It was when the twins and Eliza was so sick. I’d done moved the other youngins into the barn and Matthew kept a fire blazin in the house. Eliza was bad with fever and chillin.”

  “Go on.” I tried to be patient as she fumbled through the story. What was important to her wasn’t bearin no nevermind on me.

  “Calvin showed up with this bottle of medicine. He told me to look in Momma’s things, her private things, and see if they was a red rock. He pulled a pouch from his pocket and opened it. There in plain sight was one. Right purty too.”

  “You’re tellin me Calvin had a stone?”

  “Yes ma’am. He did. I’d never seen sucha thing and I told him so. But he kept on at me, tellin me Momma had to have a box or a jar or a bag where she kept things that was precious to her.”

  “Did your momma have anything?”

  “Well, I went to lookin. All the time he was breathin down my neck, naggin at me to find it. Said they wasn’t a woman alive that didn’t have trinkets hid away. I crawled up on the table and reached up to Momma’s butter jar on the top of the pantry. When I opened it, they was a nickel, a writin pencil, and that little rock stuck to the bottom of the jar. I’d have never noticed it if I’d not been lookin specific for it.”

  “Calvin took your momma’s jar?”

  “No, he set it down, then whisked me off the table. He told me the medicine wouldn’t work unless I give of myself. I needed that medicine for the twins and for Eliza. I
remember Momma tellin Miss Louise she did whatever she had to to care for her youngins. Layin with Calvin was a small price to pay if I could save my siblins.

  “Next thing I knew, he was done with me. He busted Momma’s butter jar and took the rock. ‘What about the bottle of medicine? You told me I could have that medicine if I give myself to you. Now give it over!’ Miss Worie, I shouted at him loud. But he went to laughin an awful laugh, then he threw the bottle on the ground and it shattered. I won’t never forget his laughin at me. Callin me a fool.”

  I felt my anger come to a boil. I knew Calvin was slick, but this was more than I thought even he was capable of. I couldn’t hold my stomach no longer. I slipped off my horse and run to the edge of the woods to gag. What little bit I’d eat of that biscuit come back on me. They was anger and shame all balled together. To think Calvin would do sucha thing. To a young girl . . . a new woman. I felt my stomach roll again, but all I could do was retch. They was nothin left in me to vomit.

  I wiped my mouth and stumbled back to Sally. “Sweet child. Lordy mercy.” I pushed my hand against Ellie’s stomach. “How long ago?”

  “Just after Momma died. Goin on a couple of months now.”

  The girl wasn’t no bigger than a splinter, and though her belly didn’t pooch out, it had rounded. Martha Olsen died close to two weeks before Momma took her life, so the timin fit. Calvin was already doin his evil.

  “Ellie, do you know how your momma got that rock?”

  She shrugged. “I never knew she even had it, and like I said, if I twernt lookin for it, I’d never have saw it.”

  My heart ached for this girl. She was no different than Abeleen and Doanie, ’cept they’d come to me before Calvin could prey on them like a wolf. Ellie did what she thought would save her siblins, at her own sacrifice.

  I remember Momma talkin about the good Lord sendin His Son and about how He give all He had to save us. I wasn’t right sure it was the same thing, seein as Ellie didn’t die, but she sure as the dickens did sacrifice herself. My words might hurt her but the girl needed to know the truth so she didn’t live with no guilt. Why is it the truth hurts?