by Pamela Morsi
Aunt Will held court from the comfort of her cozy, quilt-covered rocker. The other “good seat” had been given to Alice Fay. Jesse, Floyd and Piney were in a semi-circle around them using the kitchen chairs. Tree sat cross-legged on the floor next to the hearth.
“We fully intended to drive straight home,” Alice Fay continued. “But then I got this feeling and when I spoke it aloud, Floyd said he’d been of the same mind. It was such a curiosity, that we couldn’t pass without coming by.”
“Well, it’s good of you to venture this way,” Aunt Will told them. “I’ve been thinking about you and I need for Floyd to do a favor for me.”
“Sure,” the man answered, without waiting for any of the specifics. “What can I do?”
“You’re still doing that fancy woodworking?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Well, I don’t need anything too dolled up,” Aunt Will told him, conversationally. “But you’re about the handiest with a chisel and saw around these parts. And I suspect I have just enough vanity to want the best. You see, according to Doc Mo and Piney here, and my own estimation as well, I’m shortly going to be requiring a plain pine box.”
Alice Fay drew in a sharp breath.
Aunt Will paused to offer a reassuring smile. “We all know what’s ahead of us in this world. I’ve got not a mite of pain nor fear. But I don’t want to be put to ground in a store-bought casket. I want a coffin that meant something to the man that built it.”
Both the cousins were momentarily stunned into silence. They glanced at each other, then Alice Fay shot a look to Jesse. She acknowledged her aunt’s words with a slight inclination of her head.
Floyd stuttered a bit with his reply. “I’d…I’d be…I’d be honored, Aunt Will. Truly honored to make something for you.”
“Good,” she said with a bright smile. “Now, don’t go getting fancy on me. I won’t be needing no scrollwork, nor inlays. I was never one to dress up stylish. Something simple and ordinary will suit my death as sure as it’s suited my life.”
Floyd nodded, understanding. “Nothing elaborate or showy,” he said. “I know what you mean. Why put veneer on a wood that’s solid?”
Aunt Will agreed. She spoke for a few minutes, giving her visitors a few basics about her health problems. She did it with the matter-of-fact confidence that managed to put her visitors at ease.
“We don’t know how quickly the end is going to come,” she told them. “And we don’t know exactly what it’s going to look like. But I’m determined to stay up here in this cabin. I can’t avoid the dying, but I see no sense in doing it in a strange place and among strangers. Some of the sweetest moments of my life happened within these hand-hewn walls. I want the last ones I see to be here, as well.”
Alice Fay and Floyd seemed to be okay with that.
Piney was not.
“I can’t promise,” he told Aunt Will. “I’m sure Jesse will do everything she can. And I expect others will help, too. But I can’t promise that we won’t have to move you. Sometimes there are things beyond our control.”
He didn’t elaborate and Jesse was beyond imagining.
Aunt Will’s lightheartedness wasn’t diminished by his warning. In fact, she smiled broadly at him.
“You’re a good man, Piney,” she told him. “You’re not one to pledge something you might not be able to hold to. Fair enough. You know what I’m thinking and what I’m wanting. I trust you to do the best by my wishes as you’re able.”
He assured Aunt Will that he would.
Jesse felt a weird sort of pride welling up in her. Aunt Will was right. He was a good man. He would try to do what she wanted. But he would never be loose with promises that he made.
“Now, Alice Fay,” Aunt Will continued. “I’m going to need for you and Floyd to be witness to what I’m telling these children.”
The “children” she indicated were Piney and Jesse.
“I’ve got my own plans for final arrangements. And they are not going to suit everybody on this mountain. I don’t care a whit about that myself. But there will be those who hold these two to blame. I’ll need you to testify high and low, to every nit-picking-knows-better and hoity-toity holy pants that you heard the dad-blamed words come right out of my mouth.”
The old woman’s statement was so forcefully adamant that Tree snickered.
Aunt Will winked at the teen rather than reprove him.
“I’d ask you to be my witness, as well,” she told him. “But some of these folks are near dumb as rocks. They won’t put no mind to what a young fellow like you has to say. Especially if it differs from their own opinion on the matter.”
Tree nodded as if he understood.
“So what are these arrangements?” Jesse asked her.
“Well,” she answered. “I’ve got an old blue dress in there that I always loved. It’s a bit out of date, but I don’t think they’ll be much into style where I’m headed. I’ll be wearing that.”
Jesse nodded, keeping her expression calm.
“I’ve got a piece quilt that I put together to line the coffin,” Aunt Will continued. “I was losing my eyesight when I started, so the stitches are big enough to sift whole corn. But it’s special to me. It’s got fabric from my clothes back for years and years. Some of it’s near about rags, but I sewed it anyway, just for the memory.”
She was smiling again as she thought about it. Then her expression became more serious.
“Now this is the part that folks aren’t going to like,” she said. “If I die here in the cabin like I’m expecting, then I’ll have my laying in right here. I will not be set in the front of that church with my box all covered with flowers. I won’t have it!”
“Ooo-kay,” Jesse agreed slowly.
As if she realized that an explanation might be required, Aunt Will poked an errant strand of steel-gray hair into her topknot as she considered her words. She looked for a moment into each face, silently conveying the confidentiality of her reply.
“When I needed the folks at that church,” she said, “they turned their back on me.” The revelation startled Jesse. Aunt Will looked her in the eye. “I forgave them decades ago. And those that turned their back on me are all dead and gone. But I can’t seem to forget it, if you know what I mean. I still carry that bad feeling and I won’t be a hypocrite about it. Brother Chet tells me it’s a foolishness. That I’m holding a grudge against God. But I’m not. God never turned his back on me. It was those folks in that building. And if I hadn’t turned out to be so dad-gummed useful to them, I doubt they’d even come around when they did. But by then, it was too late. Too late for me and mine.”
Jesse was completely puzzled. What had happened? Was Aunt Will going to explain?
Her confusion must have shown on her face. Aunt Will leaned forward enough to reach out and grasp her hand.
“It was all so very long ago. And nothing to worry anyone but me,” she said. “Still I’m not going down there.” Her voice was adamant. “I want to be laid out on my own porch.”
Jesse had never heard of anything like that. When people died, an ambulance or maybe a hearse came and picked them up and the next time you saw them was at the funeral home. It was hard to get her mind around the idea of a dead body lying on the front porch.
Perhaps it was Jesse’s incredulity that had Aunt Will addressing her requirements to the others.
“I’m sure you all can scare up enough relatives and interested parties to keep watch on me out there for a day or two until those coming from afar can get here,” she said. “Folks who want to see me can come up this mountain for a last look. Then I want to be put on a skid and dragged to Burying Hill. Don’t bring a vehicle to take me down the mountain to a road that goes up it again. Somebody’s bound to have a mule or a horse to pull me. If not, a couple of these strapping lads like Tree ought to be able to do it.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Floyd assured her. “Sneezer’s got a fine pulling mule that’s as sure-foo
ted on these paths as a goat. I’ll ask him myself when the time comes.”
“Good. You do that,” Aunt Will said. “I’ve already writ out exactly what I want read. If someone will carry word to Roy Gluck, I think he’s the one I’d have read. Brother Chet is surely not going to like taking a backseat, but if anyone can keep him at bay it’s the judge. And if Gluck don’t, then Piney, you have my permission to kick the pastor in the seat of the pants. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to for a decade or more, and my funeral might be a perfect occasion.”
Jesse was shocked, but Piney laughed.
“I’m sure it won’t be necessary, Aunt Will,” he told her. “But just in case, I’ll make a point to wear my steel-toed boots.”
The old woman chuckled appreciably at that.
The conversation moved on to remembrances of funerals long past and the lives of friends and family they represented. Jesse’s father had been buried on the mountain. She recalled that day like a series of still photos. Glimpses of what was happening through a dark fog of pain and grief. One of those glimpses was the tear-stained face of Aunt Will, looking older and more fragile than she did today. But Mac Winsloe’s death was not mentioned in discussion. Those mentioned were strangers to Jesse. Just familiar names of people she’d never met. And the stories were mostly sweet or sentimental, some even downright funny.
“Beulah Winsloe had insisted that she and her husband be buried at the tip top of the hill,” Aunt Will related with a chuckle. “Folks before her had all chosen everlasting rest on the side of the hill, but she wouldn’t be satisfied with any place but lording over all of us for eternity. It was solid rock chiseling out a place for her husband, but she made her grandsons hew it out.” The old woman shook her head disapprovingly. “Then when Beulah’s time came, they hit the rock with one sledge and it opened a sinkhole. For a minute they thought they’d lose the entire cemetery. But it was just Beulah’s spot. So while her marker’s at the top of the hill, her body is laid as low as the rest of them.”
Aunt Will had a great good laugh. No one else in the room had ever known the woman, but they chuckled along with her.
It was close to sunset when Floyd and Alice Fay went back down the mountain. Piney and Tree stayed through dinner and afterward only long enough to help with evening chores.
Aunt Will was feeling strong enough to get to bed on her own power. And Piney installed a bell on the door to warn Jesse if she were to get up and wander outside during the night.
“Try not to worry,” Piney told her as she walked them to the truck. “It’s scary not knowing what to expect, but in my experience, these things have a way of working themselves out. And caregivers rise to whatever challenge they’re presented.”
“You’ve got more confidence in me than I have in myself,” Jesse told him.
He slid his arm around her waist in the darkness. “I wish I could be here for you every minute,” he said. “But you can know that even when I’m not, I’m wishing I was.”
Piney stopped then, a few yards from his vehicle, his son still trudging ahead. He pulled her against him and touched her lips with a mere whisper of a kiss.
“I miss you already,” he said.
As his truck drove away and she hiked up the slope to the cabin, she felt exactly the same way.
27
Camryn dressed for school on Monday morning and her mother didn’t say a word to her about being grounded. Her mother seemed almost as shocked and scared about the breakup as Camryn was herself. And the fact that the entire Sunday went by without hearing from him didn’t bode well.
When he hadn’t shown up for church, she’d shrugged it off. When the afternoon began sliding by without a text, she made a point to wander down to the Marrying Stone, where she’d have a good chance of seeing him shooting baskets in his yard. She waited until almost full dark and not one ball swished the net or slammed the backboard.
“I’m taking DuJess’s car,” she told her mother, as she left breakfast uneaten on the table.
Her mother made no comment.
Camryn couldn’t face the morning school bus. Tree might catch a ride with one of his buddies. But if he didn’t, she’d be sitting in a seat when they got to his stop. If he didn’t sit beside her, everybody in school would know.
But everybody in school was going to know anyway.
That reality couldn’t be avoided. Tree was the high school’s top athlete. That was the local equivalent of being famous. Even without paparazzi his personal life was everybody’s business at school.
Camryn backed the little blue car out of its parking spot and made her way along the twisty, winding roads. The morning was as gloomy as she felt. She needed to get back together with Tree and the sooner the better. But she wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. She considered the tried-and-true get-your-boyfriend-back schemes. She could make him jealous, make him guilty or make him horny.
Horny was what got her into her current trouble. So she was left with jealous or guilty. She wasn’t sure which would be easier to accomplish. Jealous meant capturing somebody else’s eye. And she was loath to drag an unsuspecting third party into her problems. But getting Tree into guilty mode would probably require foregoing all her pride and setting herself up to be the most pitiful person in school. That was a very risky proposition. If it didn’t work, her status might be unrecoverable. People on the mountain had long memories. Lorelei Trace had been dumped by Bradley Swann the night she was crowned homecoming queen. That was three years ago and her reputation had been in a death spiral since.
Camryn parked in a distant spot in the lot. She told herself that she didn’t want the car dinged by another vehicle. But it was the big crowd of friends and classmates around the school’s front door that encouraged a long walk across the parking area.
Unfortunately, no matter how slowly she dawdled, when she reached the steps, the bell still hadn’t rung and everybody was standing around. The high-pitched voices of the girls were going a mile a minute. The boys were much less verbal. Their conversation was punctuated by guffaws, rude noises and the occasional shoulder punch.
She spotted Tree immediately. And it wasn’t simply because he was the tallest guy in the crowd. It was almost like some cosmic connection that always drew her eyes in his direction. He was within a large group of kids and he was doing most of the talking, his expression solemn, serious.
Camryn’s heart flew to her throat. Was he announcing it to everyone? Explaining what had happened between them? Telling the whole school how she’d acted, making her look like a psycho-chick. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it. It was bad enough to reject her. To brag about it to their friends? That was completely hateful. She wasn’t going to let him do it.
Angrily, she pushed her way through the crowd. Vaguely she heard a couple of voices greet her, but she ignored them. She moved straight toward Tree, her fury rising with every step.
“How dare you!” she demanded, interrupting him in midsentence.
He turned to her. He looked surprised, as if he thought making a public announcement of their personal business was no big deal.
“I’m just—”
She cut him off, not willing to hear his excuses. “It’s not for you to tell,” she said. “It’s my story to tell. Mine!”
She’d never actually heard a rule like that, but she was pretty sure that it was true. If it wasn’t a rule it was traditional. In a breakup, it was the girl who got to spread the word. The guy was supposed to keep him mouth shut. Especially if the guy was the one to break it off.
Tree’s brow was furrowed. He looked more worried than sorry.
Nearby, Jadee Swann spoke up. “I don’t think it matters who tells us.”
Camryn turned to her friend, shocked. Jadee and everyone around her looked incredulous. Had they all taken his side?
“I’m the one who’s hurt here,” she told them. “I’m the one. Me!”
They were all staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. Before sh
e could say another word, Tree stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist and began moving her through the crowd.
“Get your hands off me!” she demanded, slapping at his arm.
Tree’s response was to tighten his grip and move her more quickly and more forcefully to the edge of the crowd. He was practically carrying her along and the best she could do against him was drag her feet.
“Let me go!”
“Shut up,” he whispered. “I’m trying to keep you from making a complete ass of yourself.”
She began hitting at him in earnest then. He managed to get her to the big red oak that towered over the area in front of the high school and was known by generations of students as “the make-out shade.” On the far side of the tree, he grabbed both her hands and pressed up back against the rough bark, completely holding her fast. She struggled against him, furiously.
“If you try to kiss me, I’ll bite your lip off!” she threatened.
“I know better than to kiss a badger,” he answered. “Stop fighting and I’ll let you go.”
She looked straight into his eyes. She could recall how loving and brightly they always looked at her. At this moment they were hard and cold with anger.
“I hate you!” she blurted out, nearly spitting in his face.
“Well, great,” he answered. “That should solve all our personal problems. But it won’t make much difference to Aunt Will.”
“Aunt Will?”
“I was telling everybody about Aunt Will.”
“What about her?”
“She dying.”
Camryn heard the words but she couldn’t quite take them in. She had just seen her and she seemed fine. She was funny and feisty and always on Camryn’s side. She wasn’t even sick. She couldn’t be dying.
“I guess Dad and Doc Mo have known for a while,” Tree continued. “Things are getting bad enough, that Aunt Will has decided it’s time to share it with the rest of us.”
“It can’t be true,” Camryn said.
Tree sighed heavily. “It is true. I think the best thing to do is figure out what we can do to make things better and show her that we care about her.”
