“Well,” said Miss Alice, “I’m happy to report that the doctor says Granny’s herb concoction is indeed the cause of those mysterious rashes. He treated all the children who were affected. I believe David and I managed to convince them that if they insist on carrying her herb mixture around, they need to put it in a pocket and keep it away from their skin.”
“I done tied mine around my waist, see?” Ruby Mae said to Christy, eyeing her angrily.
“She doesn’t need to see it. She can smell it,” David said. He took a sip of milk. “Don’t you understand what nonsense all that superstitious stuff is, Ruby Mae? I’d have hoped to have at least gotten through to you, of all people. After all, you live right here with Christy.”
“All the more reason for me to protect myself,” Ruby Mae countered, accepting the bowl of apples from David. “Don’t know when she might spread the curse to me.”
Ruby Mae shoved the apples toward Christy. The steam wafted up toward Christy’s face. She swallowed back the sour taste in her mouth.
“I just don’t know why we can’t get through to you, Ruby Mae!” David cried in exasperation.
“Don’t bother, David,” Christy said bitterly. “There isn’t any point in trying to reach her. There isn’t any point in trying to reach any of them—” Suddenly her stomach did a wild flip and she knew she was going to be sick. “Excuse me,” she managed to blurt.
She dashed out of the dining room and out into the yard. Moments later she felt Miss Alice’s firm, cool hands supporting her head. “Go ahead, Christy,” she said. “Get rid of everything. You’ll feel better now.”
“I—I haven’t been so sick since I was a little girl. . . .”
“No, don’t try to talk.”
Finally it was over. Christy stood on unsteady feet. “I . . . I have to go think. . . .”
“You go on upstairs,” Miss Alice said gently. “I’ll come by later and we can talk.”
Christy sat on her bed, staring bleakly at her lesson plans. When she heard a soft knock on the door, she knew who it was. “Come on in, Miss Alice.”
“How are you feeling?” Miss Alice sat down on the edge of the bed.
“All right, physically . . . but . . .” Christy fought back the tears burning her eyes. “But I’m so confused, Miss Alice. I think maybe Father and Mother were right. Everyone was right, all the people who said I don’t belong here. I wasn’t willing to listen. I thought I could come here and be welcomed with open arms. I thought I could make a difference.” She began to sob. “I . . . I can’t fight the ignorance and superstition. I can’t.”
She cried for several minutes, sobbing while Miss Alice listened quietly. At last Christy lifted her head to look at the peaceful woman. Suddenly she needed to know what Miss Alice was thinking.
“Am I wrong to feel this way?” Christy asked.
“Any sensitive person would feel exactly as you feel.” Miss Alice’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Maybe it’s just as well all this has happened. Now is as good a time as any to decide whether you’ll go home or not—provided you make your decision on a true basis.”
“What do you mean—a true basis?”
“The way life really is.”
“Not much of life can be as bad as what I saw this afternoon,” Christy said.
“You’d be surprised. Every bit of life, every single one of us has a dark side,” Miss Alice replied. “When you decided to leave home and take this teaching job, you were leaving the safety and security you’d known all your life. I was the same way. I know. Then we get our first good look at the way life really is, and a lot of us want to run back to shelter in a hurry.”
Christy hugged her pillow. “You? Even you?”
“Yes, certainly.”
Christy thought of the horrible conditions at the O’Teale cabin, of Wilmer, of poor Mountie . . . even of the little rabbit that had never had a chance. How could there be such suffering? How could she fight such horrible things?
“But why did you stay?” Christy asked. “When you wanted to leave? When you saw all the evil here?”
Miss Alice considered for a moment. “I believe that you’ve got to see life the way it really is before you can do anything about evil, Christy. Certainly, people like you are more sensitive than others. But if we’re going to work on God’s side, we have to decide to open our hearts to the griefs and pain all around us. It’s not an easy decision.”
“Miss Alice, even if you’re right . . . how can I fight back against the things Granny has said? I can’t reach the children if they fear me.” Christy gave a bitter laugh. “And I can’t be a teacher if I don’t have any students.”
Miss Alice fell silent for a moment. “I can tell you this. There’s a healing power in love, Christy,” she said at last. “I’ve seen it work miracles.”
Miss Alice had such peace about her, such a sense of being at home no matter where she was. Christy wanted that feeling, but it seemed as far away as her family and her cozy bedroom back in Asheville.
“I just don’t know,” Christy whispered at last.
“Know what?”
“If I should stay. If there’s any point in it.”
Miss Alice nodded, as if she’d asked herself the same question, once upon a time. “First, ask yourself this, Christy. Who are you?”
“I wish I knew.”
“But you can know. You’re important, terribly important. Each of us is. You’re unique. So is David. And Miss Ida. And Ruby Mae and Doctor MacNeill. No one else in all the world can fill David’s place, or mine, or yours. Other teachers may come here to Cutter Gap, but you and you alone have a special gift to offer these people. If you don’t do the work that God has given you to do, that work may never be done.”
She rose to go. “It’s late and you’re tired. But here’s the question for you to sleep on. Were you supposed to come here, Christy? Or were you just running away from home?”
Christy watched the door close behind Miss Alice. After a while, she retrieved her diary off the dresser.
Was I supposed to come here? Christy wondered. She wanted someone to tell her the answer—someone, anyone. But the only person who could answer that question was Christy herself. And she was afraid she already knew the answer.
She opened her diary and scanned the last lines she’d written. Today braids. Tomorrow, the world!
How hopeful and foolish that sounded now.
Her eyes fell on another passage. Well, like it or not, Ruby Mae is clearly going to be my bundle.
Christy groaned. Had Ruby Mae read those words today? That would explain her sullen behavior at the dinner table. She must be feeling terribly hurt and angry. Christy knew she should go to Ruby Mae and explain that she hadn’t meant anything when she’d written those words. Certainly the last thing she’d intended to do was to hurt Ruby Mae.
Christy started for the door, then stopped herself. What was the point? To begin with, the girl shouldn’t have been snooping in Christy’s diary. And in any case, Ruby Mae was still wearing Granny’s herbs—still apparently convinced that Christy was cursed.
Why bother trying to console Ruby Mae? There was no point.
Then, Christy realized that she already knew the answer to Miss Alice’s question. Tomorrow, she would start packing.
It was time to go home.
Ten
On Saturday morning, someone knocked on Christy’s door while she was packing. Quickly Christy set aside the blouse she had been folding. “Come in,” she called.
Ruby Mae stuck her head inside the door. “You’re sure now?” she said sullenly. “I don’t want to be a-steppin’ on your privacy or nothin’.”
“Ruby Mae,” Christy said, “when I wrote that, I didn’t mean that I didn’t like having you around. I only meant that sometimes a person wants to be alone. Can you understand that?”
“I just come up ’cause Miz Ida done made me. Said the buckwheat cakes she made are gettin’ cold.”
“Oh. Would you mind
telling her I’m not hungry this morning?”
Ruby Mae put her hands on her hips. “Where’s all your things?”
“What—oh, you mean the things on my dresser? I just . . . I was just rearranging things.” There was no point in telling Ruby Mae she was packing. If Ruby Mae knew, the entire Cove would know by this afternoon.
“Well, I best be goin’. Don’t want to talk your ears plumb off.”
Christy ran to Ruby Mae and took her by the arm. Granny’s pouch of herbs was still tied around her waist. “Ruby Mae,” Christy said gently, “have you ever said something that just came out wrong? Something that hurt somebody when you didn’t mean it to?”
“Sure.” Ruby Mae crossed her arms over her chest. “I say the wrong things regular as a clock a-strikin’ the hour. You know for yourself I can’t keep my mouth shut for more than a minute or two. Dumb things is bound and certain to come out.”
The pain in Ruby Mae’s voice made Christy wince. Part of her was angry at Ruby Mae, the way she was angry with all the mountain people. After all, this girl was standing in Christy’s room, just inches away, wearing a pouch of foul-smelling herbs, just in case Christy was cursed.
And yet, she also felt pity for Ruby Mae, a confused teenager who’d thought she’d found a new friend in Christy. However unintentionally, Christy had repaid that friendship with hurt.
“I have something for you.” Christy went to her trunk and pulled out her diary. She opened it and yanked out the first few pages filled with her careful handwriting.
“What in tarnation are you doin’?” Ruby Mae cried.
Christy held out the black leather book. “I want you to have this.”
Ruby Mae’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, Miz Christy, I couldn’t rightly—”
“Why? Because it’s cursed?” Christy demanded, surprised by the bitterness in her own voice.
Slowly Ruby Mae shook her head. “I just . . . it’s yours. It’s your private book.”
“Now it’s yours. I want you to write in it every day.”
“I ain’t no writer. What could the likes of me ever write in a fancy book?”
“Just pretend it’s a friend. A friend you can talk to when no one else will listen.”
A slow smile dawned on Ruby Mae’s face as she accepted the book. “A friend?”
“Maybe you should even give it a name. How about . . . hmmm. How about Rose? I’ve always liked that name.”
“Rose.” Ruby Mae tried the name on for size. “That’s a fine name, Miz Christy.” She stroked the leather cover tenderly.
“Here. You’ll need a pen, too. And remember. Whatever you write in there is private. That means you can say anything you want, even if it doesn’t always come out just the way you meant it to.”
Ruby Mae gave a small nod. “Thank you, Miz Christy.”
“Now run and tell Miss Ida I won’t be having breakfast.”
When she was alone again, Christy scanned the pages she’d ripped from the diary—the chronicle of her magnificent adventure in the mountains. A sentence on the first page caught her attention:
I have begun my great adventure this day, and although things have not gone exactly as I had hoped, I am still committed to my dream of teaching at the mission.
Well, she was not committed to her dream anymore, that much was certain. She stuffed the pages in her trunk—all except the last one. It was her letter of resignation, the letter she would give to Miss Alice tomorrow, after David’s sermon. She would ask him to accompany her back to the train station at El Pano. Perhaps they could borrow Miss Alice’s horse. It would be a long, hard trip, but when it was over, she’d be on her way back home. Home, where she would once again be safe and secure and loved.
The service was over. The crowd was gone, the schoolroom deserted.
Christy stood in the middle of the room, breathing in the now-familiar smells of chalk dust, fresh paint, and wood smoke.
She fingered the resignation letter in her skirt pocket. She still hadn’t told David or Miss Alice that she planned to leave today. She’d tried to—a hundred times, it seemed—but each time she’d opened her mouth to say the words, a choked sob had come out instead.
Besides, her letter said all that needed to be said:
Effective immediately, I will be resigning from my post as teacher at the Cutter Gap mission school. I am deeply sorry that I must leave, but I have determined that I am not suited to the position.
Sincerely,
Christy Rudd Huddleston
Not suited to the position. Not suited because she was weak and afraid. Not suited because her stomach revolted at the sight of her students’ homes. Not suited because she could not find a way to fight evil and ignorance, not the way someone like Miss Alice could.
She should find David. He was probably down at his bunkhouse. She wanted to tell him first, since David would be easier than Miss Alice. Miss Alice would not be able to hide her disappointment in Christy. Just imagining the look in her eyes made Christy ache inside.
She ran her fingers over the worn surface of her desk. It was almost funny, when you thought about it. A silly raven had landed here and changed her life forever.
She turned to leave. Near the door, she spied a ragged brown coat lying on a desk. It was Mountie’s. Christy would recognize the shabby, oversized thing anywhere. It was still unseasonably warm out, and it had been hot today during the service. Mountie must have left the coat behind by accident.
Christy touched the dirty brown fabric. It had been patched and repatched a dozen times. All the buttons were missing. How many times had she seen Mountie clutching the lapels to keep out the winter wind?
Poor Mountie. Christy could practically hear the mean chant of the boys at the noon recess, taunting the speechless little girl:
Mush-mouthed Millie,
Can’t even speak,
Jabber jabber jaybird
Marbles in the beak.
Suddenly an idea came to her. At least she could do one small thing before she abandoned Mountie for good.
With the coat in hand, Christy headed for the mission house. Everyone was gone, probably having tea at Miss Alice’s cabin. She selected four gold buttons from Miss Ida’s sewing box in the kitchen cupboard, along with a needle and thread.
One by one, Christy sewed the buttons onto Mountie’s coat. She was just tying the last knot when Ruby Mae appeared at the kitchen door.
“Fine sermon today,” she commented, joining Christy at the table. She was still wearing the herb pouch around her waist.
“Yes, David’s a wonderful speaker.”
“What’s that you’re up to?”
“Mountie left her coat behind in the schoolroom. I’m just sewing some buttons on it.”
Ruby Mae rolled her eyes. “Granny’ll like that.”
Christy winced. “Oh, no! What was I thinking? She’ll probably assume I’m trying to put some kind of curse on Mountie, won’t she?” Angrily, she tossed the coat onto the table. “I can’t even sew on some buttons without getting into trouble.”
With grim determination, Christy found a pair of scissors in Miss Ida’s box. She grabbed the coat.
“What are you doin’?” Ruby Mae cried.
“I’m taking off the buttons. Mountie needs this coat. If Granny thinks I’ve been near it, she won’t let Mountie wear it.” The horrible unfairness of it all burned in her heart.
Ruby Mae grabbed the scissors. “There’s no need for her to know, now, is there? S’posin’ I put it back in the school? Anyone asks, I’ll say I sewed on the buttons.”
“What if the coat is cursed?” Christy challenged. “How do you know it isn’t?”
Ruby Mae gave a shrug. “In January—” she smiled, “buttons win out over curses.”
Clutching the little coat, Christy followed Ruby Mae outside. As they walked along, Ruby Mae chattered away, just like she always did. “You know,” she said, “there’s somethin’ you got to understand, Miz Christy. Granny’s just loo
kin’ out for her family.”
Christy didn’t answer. She had other things on her mind, and was only half-listening. What if David couldn’t take her to the station today? What if Miss Alice refused to accept her resignation?
“I s’pose when school got a-goin’,” Ruby Mae was saying, “she sort of felt all left behind. Granny’s right partial to Mary and Mountie, ’specially Mountie.”
Christy stopped in her tracks, as Ruby Mae’s words finally began to register. Maybe that was it. Maybe Granny was so afraid of Christy because it meant losing the company of her great-grandchildren.
She touched Ruby Mae’s shoulder. “You know, Ruby Mae,” she said, “I’m beginning to think I should have listened to you more while I had the chance.”
“I don’t rightly get what you’re aimin’ at, Miz Christy.”
“Never mind. I’m just sorry, that’s all.” She started to hand the coat to Ruby Mae, but a noise coming from the edge of the woods made her pause. It was Granny, with Mary and Mountie, no doubt returning for the missing coat.
Granny froze. She scowled at the coat in Christy’s hands. But before Granny could say a word, Mountie was dashing over to retrieve the coat.
Christy handed it to her. It took Mountie a moment before she noticed the new buttons. Her little face seemed to transform. Her expression was a mixture of awe and pure joy. She let out a strange, musical giggle.
“Mountie,” Christy asked softly, “what’s funny?”
Gleefully, Mountie held up the coat for Mary and Granny to see.
“What have you done to that coat?” Granny snapped.
Mountie tugged on Christy’s sleeve.
“What is it, Mountie?” Christy asked.
Mountie screwed her face into a look of pure concentration. “Look at my buttons!” she suddenly blurted. “Look at my buttons!”
Silence fell. A bird chirped from its perch on the mission house roof. Wind rustled the bare-limbed trees.
“Mountie,” Christy whispered, “what did you say?”
“Teacher, look! Look at my buttons! See how pretty?”
Bridge to Cutter Gap / Silent Superstitions / The Angry Intruder Page 16
