Diary of a Wildflower

by Ruth White

  Six

  September, 1921

  It’s just me and Charles and Jewel going to school this year, and now I am in charge of taking the eggs to Call’s and looking after the school supply money. I’m all the way up to the fifth grade, nearly grown up. Miss Mays is my teacher again because she has moved up to teach the top four grades.

  I can’t remember now why I was worried that Jewel might not be ready for school. It seems to be exactly what she needs. She laughs and talks more, and seems happier. Her teacher, Mrs. Ratliff, calls me aside at recess and asks me if I taught Jewel to read.

  “Jewel can’t read!” I say back.

  “She certainly can. I’ve never seen the beat,” Mrs. Ratliff says. “If she were better with numbers, I’d move her right on up to second grade.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you could read, Jewel?” I say to her later.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “You didn’t ask me.”

  “When did you learn?”

  “I could always read.”

  “But who taught you?”

  “Doris.”

  ********************

  When we go to Call’s now we don’t see hide nor hair of Mack. Seems like he always has a reason to be someplace else. We hear from gossip that Trula had a little boy the end of July, and named him Ford. I have a suspicion it’s for the Ford automobile that Mack and Trula were riding in when they fell in love. I want to see that baby so bad, but I don’t dare ask Dad.

  I write a secret letter to Trula on a piece of school paper and take three cents from the egg money to buy an envelope and a stamp at the post office in the store. I put Trula Starr, Gordy’s Branch, Virginia on the envelope. Next time I check the mail I see that my letter to Trula has come back to me. I ask Mrs. Call why my letter was returned.

  “That letter never went nowhere!” she answers in a loud, hateful voice. “It’s been right there in your mail box since you left it.”

  “Why…why didn’t you mail it?” I ask her. “I put a stamp on it.”

  “Cause there’s no post office at Gordy’s Branch, you silly girl! Don’t you Starrs know nothin’?”

  Besides Charles and Jewel there are four other people in the store, and they stop what they’re doing to listen. I stand there with all these eyes on me feeling like the dumbest person in

  the world. No, I didn’t know there was no post office at Gordy’s Branch, but does she have to be so mean about it? I want to ask her where is the closest post office to Trula. It’s her job to tell people things like that. But I’m afraid to open my mouth again. Besides, she wouldn’t say. She hates Trula and she hates me.

  “And another thing,” Mrs. Call says, poking her long, thin nose into the air, “we don’t need your eggs no more.”

  “Ethel!” Mr. Call says her name, like he’s put out with her. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do have to do that!” she hollers.

  “Why?” I ask her, even though I know the why of it is pretty plain.

  “We’ve found another supplier,” Mrs. Call says, and turns her back to me.

  Somebody in the store giggles.

  Mr. Call is looking at me with something like pity, but then he turns away too and pretends to be busy. The memory of my first trip to this store flashes into my head. I was a little bitty girl, and Mr. Call gave me a red ribbon for my hair.

  Who are these little barefooted gals?

  Without another word, Charles, Jewel and I go outside. The Calls’ house is at the back of the store, and behind the house is a clothes line, where a big washing has been hung out to dry. At sight of it, Charles darts away from me and Jewel, goes to the string of clothes, yanks a big pair of old-timey bloomers from the line, and stomps them into the ground. Instead of fussing, I act like I don’t see a thing.

  I dread breaking the news to Dad that Mrs. Call does not want our eggs anymore. When I finally do it, he gets mad like I knew he would, and almost blames Trula, but he stops the words just in time. He will not forget his vow to never mention her name again.

  He sits thinking for awhile, then says, “We don’t need Calls’ dadblamed money, Lorie. Now we got too many layin’ hens, we’ll sell us a chicken now and then. Will that take care of your school stuff?”

  I nod my head, thinking what a relief it is having a grown-up for a change solve a problem for me.

  October, 1921

  When Mommie goes into labor, things look real bad for her. Aunt Sue finally convinces Dad to send for a doctor. Dr. Wayne is new to the hills, and a very handsome man. He arrives late in the evening on a fine black horse named Raven that makes Luther and Charles and Daniel giddy. They feed Raven, pamper him, rub him down, and put him up in the barn like they are tucking in a royal baby.

  Clint Starr is born at four a.m., and the doctor says all he can do for Mommie now is to give her pain medicine to make her last hours easier. At nine a.m. he calls Dad and Roxie, Jewel and me up into the girls’ sleeping loft where he is with Mommie and the baby. Aunt Sue is there too. The boys are playing with the horse and we let them be.

  Dad sits on the side of the bed and takes Mommie’s hand. Roxie asks her if she needs anything, but she does not answer. I know Mommie is only thirty-eight years old, but when I look at her hands and face and hair, I think she could be an old, old woman. She turns her head on her favorite pillow case, the one with the ocean waves on a far off shore, and looks at the open window where the golden maple leaves are floating on the breeze under a perfect blue October sky.

  “I’m glad it’s a boy,” she says and closes her eyes. Then her face goes soft and smooth like somebody has ironed all the wrinkles out.

  “She’s gone,” Dr. Wayne says, and Roxie begins to bawl.

  Luther goes down to Call’s and sends a telegram to Samuel and a letter to Nell. Of course Nell will not be allowed to come to the funeral. He also sends a letter to Mommie’s people over at Stormy Ridge.

  I beg Dad to let us notify Trula, and he roars. “NO! And she is not welcome at the burial.”

  The next day Samuel comes home, all broken up. Dad also cries, and my sisters and brothers cry, and my aunts and uncles and cousins cry, but I don’t cry.

  We bury Mommie out there on the knob where Grandpa Wallace and all the other Starrs from way back are buried, with their names scratched on the moldy stones. Mommie’s parents died when she was a girl, but her sisters and brothers and cousins have come from Stormy Ridge. They stand apart from us and whisper to each other. I have not seen them many times. I barely know their names.

  I stand with my arm around Samuel as the dirt is shoveled into the hole. I gaze out at the place where the sky touches a distant mountain top, and try to remember a time when Mommie hugged and kissed me. Maybe she did it when I was a little baby, but I don’t recall. She never had time for me.

  You are always in my way.

  It begins to rain. The preacher rattles on, and I want to tell him to shut up.

  As we are leaving the graveyard I see Trula standing down the hill holding her little baby in her arms. I start to run to her, but Roxie and Samuel grab me.

  “No, Lorie.”

  “Dad won’t stand for it.”

  So we have to pretend she is not there. And my body has to go with the rest of the family back to the house while my heart goes with Trula and Ford in the rain down to the holler where I hope Mack is waiting for them.

  November, 1921

  Roxie takes charge of baby Clint, just as she has already done with Daniel. I can see that it’s hard on her. She is fourteen, and I am reminded of Trula at that age when she took care of us. It’s no wonder she was glad to get away at the first chance. Being Mack’s part time woman is better than what she had here.

  I walk home from school as fast as I can to help Roxie. Poor little Jewel struggles to keep up, and I threaten to leave her behind. Then I remember another day when I was the little one unable to walk as fast as the others. I slow down and take Jewel’s hand.


  On the way up Gospel Road we see some of our classmates playing in their yards or in somebody else’s yard. I tell Jewel and Charles that we will do that one day after school. We will stop and play with our friends and cousins. Jewel wants to know when can we do that? But I can’t say when.

  ********************

  Dad gets up on a cold clear Saturday morning and tells us he has business down the mountain, and he will be back in one week. Luther is to be in charge and we have to mind him or else. He dusts off his old black overcoat and Sunday hat, and puts them on. About the only time he ever goes off the mountain is to church now and then, or to sell his precious calves at the livestock auctions. We have never known him to stay gone overnight. Now here he is all gussied up and telling us he will be gone for a week, and he won’t say where he’s going to. We are so puzzled, we just look at each other.

  “Well, all right then,” Luther says to Dad. “I’ll take care of things here.”

  That almost makes me laugh out loud. Luther is sixteen now, and has a sweetheart in Deep Bottom. Her name is Sally Watkins. I know very well he will be down at her place more than he will be at home while Dad is gone.

  So Charles, Jewel and I go to school while Roxie looks after Daniel and Clint, and we don’t even miss Dad and Luther. In one week Dad comes home like he said he would. And hanging onto his arm is a short red-headed fat woman grinning to beat all.

  “I want y’all to meet Beatrice,” Dad says to us. “She’s my little woman, your new mommie. You can call her Bea. We tied the knot today.”

  “I been dyin to meet y’all,” Bea says. “Your daddy told me all about you.”

  “What’s for supper?” Dad says. “Something good I hope?”

  Roxie just nods her head and burps Clint on her shoulder, all the while staring at Bea.

  “Ain’t my sweet Rox the prettiest thang you ever seen?” Dad says to his little woman as he nudges Roxie forward.

  “She’s a doll,” Bea says and pinches Roxie’s cheek. Then she turns to me. “And this one too.” She touches my hair. “One dark and one fair. I’ll tell you what’s the truth, Willy, we’ll have to lock these gals up when they’re a bit older.”

  I can’t think of one thing to say to Dad or to Bea. It almost feels like they are playing a big joke on us, and in a minute one of them is going to bust out laughing and tell us they sure had us fooled, didn’t they? And they wished they had a picture of the expressions on our faces! But that does not happen. Bea makes herself at home by settling her round body into the best chair. Dad hangs up his hat and coat, and sits on the bed to take off his boots.

  Roxie hands Clint to Jewel, then goes into the kitchen with me to finish getting supper on the table. We stand by the cooking stove for a minute and look at each other.

  “So she’s the reason for the mystery trip,” Roxie whispers.

  “Wonder how long he’s known her?” I whisper back.

  “When did he even have a chance to meet a woman?”

  Good questions. We have no answers.

  Supper is fried pork, sour kraut, boiled potatoes and bread pudding with molasses. Bea has a healthy appetite. Roxie, Luther, Charles, Jewel, Daniel and I eat in silence while Dad and Bea carry on together like a couple of kids. This is a new Dad we are seeing. Oh, sure he has always had his moments of picking at us and joking around. But it’s not his usual mood.

  Roxie has Clint in a cradle beside her at the table. She rocks it with her foot while she eats. Charles, Jewel and Daniel seem hypnotized by Dad and Bea. Luther, Roxie and I just keep looking at each other. Every bowl on the table is cleaned out, and I can see we’ll have to cook more food from now on.

  As soon as darkness falls, Dad says, “Time to turn in.”

  Going to bed early is our habit, but not this early. It’s only six-thirty. Roxie, Jewel and I usually do our all-over baths in the kitchen at this time, but we don’t argue. We’ll just have to turn in dirty. We scurry up to the loft so Dad can take his bride to bed in the big room. Jewel and I get into our bed, while Roxie takes Clint into her bed with his bottle. Luther, Charles and Daniel go to the other side of the loft. Jewel and Clint have no trouble falling asleep, but Roxie and I lie awake whispering.

  “I hope we don’t hear anything,” she says.

  “Roxie! Do you think he’ll do that to her right there in Mommie’s bed?”

  “Why do you think he married her?” she answers.

  “Oh, God. Do you think they’ll have more babies?”

  “I hope not,” Roxie says. “That’s all we need around here is more babies.”

  Much to our relief we don’t hear anything except some low talking and soft laughter. I look at the night sky and think of Mommie. Maybe she used to talk and laugh with Dad in the dark, but my memory does not go back that far.

  January, 1922

  We have about eight inches of snow on the ground, and today it has started up again. We’ve been out of school for three days. I take care of Clint and Daniel so Roxie can have a little break. Bea does not volunteer to do anything, but sometimes we draft her for this or that. It’s getting easier to do that now she’s been here for two months.

  We have learned more about her since she busted into our lives in November. She talks a lot. Dad has gone back to his old grouchy self, and sometimes he tells her to hush up for lord’s sake and give her mouth a rest. It does not seem to bother her when he speaks to her like that.

  In some of her ramblings she tells us she was married for twelve years to Jim Earl Rollins from over near Skylark where they lived. Then one day he left her for another woman. Not that she gave a dern. She was tired of him anyways. By law he had to support her, but he lost his job, and you can’t get blood out of a turnip. So she moved in with her cousin, Buddy Ward and his wife in Deep Bottom. It was Buddy who sent word to Dad that Bea might be willing to marry if Dad would come down there and court her for a few days and see how they liked each other.

  On another day we find out why Bea’s husband left her. She didn’t give him any children. She reckons she can’t have any. Roxie and I are glad to hear that. We love Clint, but it’s a big relief to know that he will be the last of Dad’s babies we will have to take care of.

  Samuel is home for the winter. Today he’s out in the barn with Charles and Daniel trying to make a sled. He gave me two more dollars for Christmas. I have managed to hold on to the last two he gave me, and I have hidden my four dollars away in a sock. This time he gave Roxie two dollars too, and he also gave Dad some money when Bea was not looking. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to give her anything.

  Samuel would never say or do mean things to anybody, but there is something about the way he acts with Bea that says he does not like her. Maybe it’s because he loved Mommie so much, and he thinks Dad was too quick to re-marry.

  Daniel is taking a nap, and I try to get Clint to sleep too. He is a sweet happy baby. I sit by the window with him on his belly across my knees. I bounce him easy and rub his back. It’s a thing Trula used to do for Jewel and Daniel.

  It seems the days have slowed down to a crawl, and the hours stand still. I look out at the patch of woods by Willy’s Road and think of the old, old thing that hides there and cries. It is sleeping today under mounds of snow, its tears frozen to the earth.

  Beyond the road I see the mountain tops going on and on toward West Virginia. I imagine that people who live in cities would think me lucky to have such a view as this. And it really is pretty, but I don’t feel lucky. I feel isolated. I think of the big round world out there with so much to see and learn. People with things to do and places to go in cars and trains. I am so far away I might as well be on another planet – a cold, white planet.

  I wonder what Nell is doing today. Even though she is almost a prisoner in the sanitorium, she writes that she is glad now to be there. She is happy. There is a patient who was a teacher before he got T.B., and he helps her and Helen keep up with their school lessons. Nell thinks if she is at the sanitorium long
enough, she can finish her highschool courses and then train to be a nurse’s aide. Imagine it. She can have a job if she wants it, and make her own money. She does not mention coming home anymore, and it’s a good thing, because it seems like Dad has forgotten her existence. He never writes to her and does not even ask me and Roxie what she has to say in her letters to us.

  I think of Trula in her little house with her baby. Is Mack with them today? Is she happy? Does she ever think of me? Is there still room in her heart for Lorelei?

  Then the brown-eyed peddler crosses my mind. Where is he today? Is it snowing there? Does he have somebody to keep him warm? Is that old horse still alive?

  For some silly reason I get tears in my eyes.

  Seven

  March, 1922

  It’s time for Samuel to go back to Richmond, and I dread it.

  “I know Lucille will be happy,” I say to him, “but I’m going to miss you.”

  He smiles at me, but says nothing.

  He has not mentioned her much this time, and he still has not told anybody else about her. My curiosity nearly kills me. I’ve noticed that he does not get letters from her either, and I have tried not to bring it up, but now I can’t help myself.

  “Have you written to her?” I ask.

  He smiles again, pats my head and says, “You ask too many questions.”

  “I’m sorry, Samuel, but you did confide in me, and I’m nearly dying to know more. Are you still courting her, or did you bust up?”

  “Don’t worry, Lorelei honey, if I decide to marry, you will be the first to know.”

  The next day he’s on the train for Richmond.

  ********************

  Charles has a cough and a fever for several days before he wakes up with red spots all over him. Measles. Luther remembers that he and Samuel had measles when they were in school, but Nell and I caught it before we started school. He believes Roxie had it at the same time we did, but he can’t say for sure. Roxie says she does not remember, but the one thing we know for sure is that Jewel, Daniel and Clint have never been sick with measles. Maybe it would be best it they caught it now, and got it over with.