“I am so glad to see you, Will Kincaid,” Bone whispered—and shooed him back out onto the little half-covered porch. The Alberts’ house didn’t have a proper porch you could comfortably sit on, either in the front or the back. This one was made more for work than leisure. The wringer washing machine and a laundry tub took up most of one side of the porch. A bare bulb hung over a stool on the other side. Bone turned over the tub for him, and she took the stool. Will kept standing. Bone didn’t blame him.
“How’s the mine without Daddy?” Bone tried to sit ladylike on the stool in Ruby’s castoff dress but failed utterly. Will tried hard not to smile.
Busy, Will scribbled out on his pad. Not enough men. How’s it here?
“Busy.” Bone nodded toward the washing machine. “I think I’ve wrung every piece of clothing in the house through that thing since I got here. At least I got to go to school today.”
Heard about the preacher.
“Yeah, Uncle Henry leaves in a few days. Aunt Mattie ain’t too—”
The kitchen door flew open. “What in the Sam Hill is going on out here?” Aunt Mattie demanded.
“Will just stopped by to talk. He always came by the boardinghouse–”
Mattie cut her off. “You’re not at the boardinghouse anymore.” She said it like Mrs. Price’s place wasn’t respectable. “You are not to entertain boys out here in the dark. What will the neighbors think?”
“We can sit in the kitchen.”
“No, you cannot,” Aunt Mattie said shrilly. “You are too young to entertain boys period.”
“It’s only Will.” Bone was baffled. She figured Aunt Mattie would be stricter than Daddy, but this was Will. She always talked to Will after supper.
“Will is a young man. He works for a living, and you ought to act like a young lady,” Aunt Mattie explained. She made it sound so reasonable. Just like Daddy.
Will nodded. He started to write it out for Bone. She didn’t want to see it.
“But Will is my friend, my best friend,” she pleaded.
“You can see him in church,” Aunt Mattie said. “Now go do your homework and get ready for bed.”
Will motioned for her to go on and turned to go himself.
“Yes, ma’am.” Bone stalked back into the house.
But she didn’t go to her room. She hovered by the back door, listening.
“You wait just a minute, Will Kincaid,” she heard Aunt Mattie say. “You stay away from Laurel. I don’t want to even see you passing your little notes to her in church. She’s under my roof now. My rules. I don’t want her associating with the likes of you or your raggedy miner friends.”
The porch was so silent Bone could hear the 8:15 chugging along the tracks down by the river. Then Will’s boots stepped off into the grass and trudged away.
Bone planted her feet, ready to take on her aunt.
“Go to your room, young lady,” Aunt Mattie said without even opening the door. Her footsteps disappeared into the yard, too.
Bone waited a moment and then cracked open the back door. The yard was dark—except for the light on in the shed.
24
BONE CAME STRAIGHT HOME after school the next day. A half hour later, Uncle Ash honked out front. She peered through the lace curtains. He and Miss Spencer and Corolla sat outside the parsonage’s white picket fence in the faded yellow Chevy. Bone grabbed her coat and headed toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Aunt Mattie asked not at all like a question.
“Uncle Ash and Miss Spencer are outside.” She’d done what her aunt had asked. She had to let her go now.
“I heard him honk like white trash,” Aunt Mattie said evenly. “I don’t want you running around with them anymore. You’ve got chores and homework.”
“But Daddy said—” Bone was cut short by a knock on the door. She went to open it, but Aunt Mattie stared her down.
“Amarantha?” Uncle Ash asked from the other side.
Aunt Mattie finally opened the door and faced her brother. “Laurel will not be accompanying you and your lady friend on your little jaunts around the county. And I’d appreciate if you didn’t honk outside my house and park that dilapidated jalopy where everyone can see.”
“Mattie.” Bone could hear the exasperation in Uncle Ash’s voice. “You know Bone has been helping Miss Spencer with her government work. You also know that Bayard approved of that.”
Ruby appeared in the kitchen door and waved a little wave to Uncle Ash.
“Bayard left her with me. I promised him I’d take care of Laurel like she was my own. And I certainly wouldn’t let Ruby run around with you.” Aunt Mattie spat the words at her brother.
Uncle Ash looked downright hurt.
“And you promised Bayard you wouldn’t interfere once he left.” Aunt Mattie drove her advantage home. “So I’d advise you to steer clear of my girls for the duration.” She slammed the door in Uncle Ash’s face.
Bone and Ruby stood absolutely still. After a few moments, Bone heard Uncle Ash’s boots leave the porch, and the engine of the old yellow truck faded slowly down the road.
“How could you do that to Uncle Ash?” Bone finally asked.
“Do not sass me, young lady,” Aunt Mattie said in a low voice.
Ruby grabbed Bone and hustled her to her room before Aunt Mattie turned her fury on either of them.
As they sat on her cot not saying a word, Bone felt cut off from everyone. Daddy. Will. Ash. The river was rising all around her, and Aunt Mattie was slashing any rope thrown to her.
Bone was overcome with the desire to bury her face in the comfort of her mother’s butter-yellow sweater.
When Aunt Mattie went off to visit parishioners, Ruby helped Bone look for the sweater inside the house. Bone had to admit it was nice to have Ruby on her side for once. She wouldn’t go in Aunt Mattie’s room, though. Bone secretly vowed to search it at her first opportunity. They didn’t find anything Bone hadn’t already seen except an old hatbox stuffed at the bottom of the hall closet. They took the hatbox into Bone’s room. Inside, there were old photographs wrapped in tissue. The yellowing paper tugged at Bone to unwrap it. As she did, the warmth came off one picture in particular. It was an old-timey photograph, and the two children in it were posed in their Sunday best. The older girl, who was probably about Bone and Ruby’s age, held a toddler in her arms. On the back, written in Mamaw’s familiar scrawl, were the date 1906 and the names Amarantha and Willow Reed. Bone could feel the pure love coming off the photograph. There was a later photo of the two sisters. This one was dated 1929. Her daddy had a copy, too. Willow Reed sat there in her nursing student uniform, trying to be all serious, but the mischief shone through her eyes. Bone could feel a mixture of emotions off this one. Pride for one. Disappointment for another. And anger. She caught a flash of Aunt Mattie getting this picture out every once in a while and thinking about how things might have been.
“Can you read those photographs?” Ruby asked. “What do you see?” Ruby leaned in.
“It’s complicated,” Bone answered. “But your mother loved mine.”
“I know that, silly,” Ruby said. “I mean, what do you see when you touch the photos or an object?”
“With some things, it’s like watching a movie. With others, it’s like being thrown into the movie all of a sudden.” Bone gingerly wrapped the pictures in the tissue and put the hatbox back in the hall closet.
“But what’s it feel like to have a Gift?” Ruby persisted.
Bone shrugged. She didn’t know how to put that in words. And she hated when people insisted on knowing how she felt.
“Does it make you feel, I don’t know, special?” Ruby wouldn’t let it go.
“It scares me,” Bone finally said. “And yeah, maybe I do feel a little bit special,” Bone admitted. “But I’d rather be good at math or baseball or something useful.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Ruby said. She got up from the cot and smoothed out her
dress in the mirror.
“Anyway, I still can’t figure out how the Gift would kill anyone, though.” Bone changed the subject. “Tired maybe.” Bone stretched out on her cot. This whole thing was making her feel weary.
“Maybe my mother was wrong.” Ruby turned to Bone. “Maybe she was jealous of your mother.”
Bone sat up. Ruby envied her. Bone would have never believed it in a million years. But she knew why now. “Mamaw told you that you don’t have a Gift, right?”
Ruby nodded.
“Maybe Mamaw is wrong.” Bone had a hunch both Ruby and her mother had Gifts that they were not aware of. “Maybe you haven’t been in the right situation yet,” Bone added, reminded of her grandmother’s words. Junior didn’t think he had one at all until he went down in the mines.
Ruby tiptoed to the door to listen for her mother. “Neither of them likes to admit it when they’re wrong.” Ruby laughed a rueful little laugh. “The last time Mamaw was here they had a big old fight. Mother told Mamaw never to darken her doorstep again.”
“When was that?” Bone couldn’t remember Mamaw ever visiting the parsonage.
Ruby thought for a long second. “It was right after Mother was sick with the flu—and Aunt Willow was here taking care of her,” Ruby said slowly, as if the memories were trickling into her head from long ago. “Daddy had sent me to stay with Mamaw. We came back when … your mother died …” Ruby trailed off.
“Mama died here?” Bone croaked.
“I thought you knew,” Ruby whispered. “I think that’s the last time Uncle Ash was here, too.”
“What else do you remember?” Bone eyed her cousin narrowly.
Ruby racked her brain for a moment, and then shook her head. “Mama was screaming something at Uncle Ash. Daddy took me over to the church. But I could hear her clear over there. Mama was out of her head with grief or fever or both.”
“What was she screaming?” Bone whispered.
“‘Fix her,’” Ruby said quietly. “What does it mean?”
Bone shook her head, but she was beginning to put it together. If only she had her yellow sweater to nudge her along.
25
UNCLE HENRY LEFT Thursday morning. It was only a twoday trip to Boston, but the northbound Greyhound only left on certain days. Aunt Mattie drove him to the bus station while Ruby and Bone walked to school. Ruby sniffled all the way there, while the other Jewels moped behind. Pearl’s father had gotten his notice, too. School was quiet. Almost every man (or boy) of fighting age from Big Vein was either already off to war or on his way there. Bone couldn’t help feeling like it was only right that everyone’s father should be off fighting like hers. But she kept that thought to herself.
That evening, Uncle Junior came to dinner, and he brought his old battered guitar.
Bone set the table while Ruby tested her corn bread with a toothpick.
“Please, Junior, not tonight.” Aunt Mattie set the green beans and fried chicken on the table.
“What? You don’t want me to sing for my supper?” Junior cleared his throat and threatened to strum the strings.
Aunt Mattie relieved him of the guitar, placing it in Uncle Henry’s chair in the sitting room. “I will pay you not to sing.” Aunt Mattie stuck a piece of the corn bread Ruby had sliced into Uncle Junior’s mouth.
“You got a deal, Sis,” Junior said through a mouthful of corn bread.
Aunt Mattie laughed.
Mattie and Junior got on like a brother and sister should. Of course, it was hard not to like Uncle Junior. But Aunt Mattie was always so mean to Uncle Ash—and everyone else. It hadn’t occurred to Bone that her aunt liked anyone, not even Uncle Henry. Now Uncle Junior was making her laugh. Ruby cracked a smile, too.
During dinner Uncle Junior talked about the goings-on at the mine. They were combining first and second shifts because there weren’t enough men. That meant, though, they might have to work longer hours to meet the quota.
“You’re still going to be in charge, aren’t you?” Mattie asked. “You deserved to be supervisor long ago.”
Uncle Junior shifted a little uneasily, glancing at Bone. “Bayard is a heck of a lot better at this leadership stuff than I am. He can have this job soon as he gets back.”
Aunt Mattie harrumphed into her glass of sweet tea but didn’t say anything more on the subject.
“Will’s doing real well, Bone.” Uncle Junior helped himself to another drumstick. “He’s a natural-born coal miner. I think he actually likes it.”
“He does.” Bone stuck a forkful of mashed potato in her mouth.
“Do not speak with your mouth full,” Aunt Mattie told her. “And remove your elbows from my table.”
Her aunt’s good humor vanished. Ruby intently picked at her burnt chicken thigh.
Uncle Junior made a big show of taking his elbows off the table. Aunt Mattie wasn’t amused.
“Mattie, do you and the girls want to go to the ball game Sunday? It’s the last one of the season. Great Valley versus Merrimac.”
Bone and Ruby exchanged hopeful glances.
“I’ve got a vestry meeting after church,” Mattie replied, her lips tightly drawn into a smile that wasn’t one. “Henry left a lot of things undone.” She moved the green beans around her plate with a fork, separating the little onions into one pile and the beans into another.
“I could take the girls,” Uncle Junior offered.
Aunt Mattie cut him a look. “They’ve got Bible study.” She stabbed a bean with her fork.
Bone’s hopes for a brief escape were dashed.
Uncle Junior pushed away his plate and put his elbows back on the table. “Girls, can I talk to my sister for a moment?”
Bone sprang to her feet, but Ruby hesitated.
Aunt Mattie nodded. “You all get started on the dishes.”
Bone and Ruby quickly gathered up the dinner plates and hustled into the kitchen. Ruby turned on the tap, but they both listened at the door.
“Amarantha, it’s okay to let them out of your sight and have a little fun,” Uncle Junior said gently.
“What they do is my business, Hawthorne.” Her voice was still flinty sharp.
Ruby smiled, and Bone almost joined her. It was hard to think of Uncle Junior by his given name.
“Well, you had no business speaking to Ash that way, Mattie.” Uncle Junior was sounding more like the older brother now. “Bayard wanted Bone to help that Miss Spencer, and I’m sure he wants her to see her family—all of it.”
“So, is that what this whole visit is about? Laurel and Ash? You are always taking up for that mess of a brother. And here I thought you’d come to cheer me up on account of my husband going off to war.”
“I am here for you, Mattie, if you’ll let me.” Uncle Junior was back to trying to soothe his sister’s temper. “I want us all to get along like a family should. And Bone and Ruby and you need all the family you can get. Mama would be over here in a shot if you—”
“I … we can do without all you heathens’ help,” Aunt Mattie sputtered. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you none to come to church more often. And just because your girls have grown up and moved away from you doesn’t mean you can come interfering with mine.”
Uncle Junior was silent, but Bone could hear a chair pushing away from the table. “Well, I guess I’d better go,” Uncle Junior said.
“Girls, come say goodbye to your uncle.”
Ruby dashed to the sink to turn off the water.
Bone and Ruby tiptoed into the dining room. Aunt Mattie grabbed the rest of the plates and walked straight as a rod into the kitchen. At that moment, Bone could see a bit of Mamaw in her aunt.
Uncle Junior hugged Ruby and Bone. And then he was out the front door, taking Bone’s hopes for a smooth evening with him. His guitar was still on the chair in the sitting room. Bone grabbed it, and at once was flooded with love. Junior was serenading Aunt Vivian while they were courting. He could not sing a lick. Bone barely remembered her, but Junior
’s giddiness made Bone grin. She pushed the vision aside and ran after Uncle Junior. He was standing by the front gate, trying to light a cigarette in the moonlight. He’d quit smoking years ago. But a fresh pack of Chesterfields was poking out of his shirt pocket.
“Thanks, Bone.” He coughed as he took the guitar from her.
“Why does she hate Uncle Ash so much?” Bone suspected it had to do with what Ruby had remembered, but neither of them could quite make any sense out of it.
“Honestly, I got no idea. They were never that close, but after Willow died, Mattie took it out on everyone, especially Ash.” Uncle Junior shrugged. “Maybe Ash reminds her of Willow too much. I expect you do, too.”
“Is it because of the Gifts?” Bone asked.
“That’s why she tolerates me.” Uncle Junior grinned a bit. “She thinks I’m thoroughly ungifted in so many ways. But I think it’s mostly to do with Willow’s death.”
“What really happened?”
“Neither Mattie nor Ash will say boo about it,” Uncle Junior said quietly.
Ashes grew at the end of her uncle’s forgotten cigarette.
“Most folks say it was the war that changed Ash. It did but it wasn’t the only thing. Losing Willow hit him just as hard.” Uncle Junior tried another puff on the cigarette—and coughed again. “How does he smoke these things?” Junior shook his head. “The two things Ash don’t like to talk about are the war and Willow. Both are still fresh wounds to him. I got to get him drunk to even say two words about either.” Uncle Junior stopped and looked at Bone. “But you, Bone, might get him to open up about both. Someday.”
Uncle Junior tossed his barely smoked cigarette on the ground and crushed it to bits with the toe of his boot. He pecked her on the cheek, slung the guitar over his shoulder, and strode off to his shack up the hill. The full moon hung over the side of the mountain, lighting his way.
Bone sighed. It might be easier to get the moon to open up and spill its secrets than it would Uncle Ash.
26
BONE ELBOWED RUBY as they walked home together after school, trailed by the Little Jewels, Opal and Pearl. None of them were in a hurry. The weather was still warm, the leaves were turning dark reds and oranges, and the goldenrod was in full bloom along the gravel road. And they all had chores to do, Bone and Ruby especially. Aunt Mattie had them cleaning house, collecting scrap metal, working in her victory garden, and even sweeping out the church when they got done with homework. With all that, Bone still hadn’t found her sweater, but there were two places it could be. However, Aunt Mattie was always at home, rarely leaving the house these days without taking Bone and Ruby with her.
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