by Ann Hite
After he fell into a deep drunken sleep, I untangled my body from his. In that moment, I could have walked away. The ax weighed heavy in my hands. I slung it over my head. The room spun and thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking the floor of the house. The fog would come rolling in soon. I splintered my prison, spilling my sin all over his mama’s little rug, and I deeply regretted that.
The fog moved in at dawn, rolling into the open windows, giving me the feeling that I was living in a dream. I worked with efficient strength as the sun burned through. I fed the flames, leaping in the fireplace, until I finished. The flames of hell burned for hours, and then they died down to embers and became hot ashes, littered with a bright hot glow here and there. When they were cool enough, I sprinkled them over my garden plot, turning dirt as the moon rode the horizon. I would plant the seeds in neat rows. I would tend the garden, and then I would be free to leave.
His head was all that remained. Even fear, hate, and revenge couldn’t bring me to destroy his face. I pushed the head through a hole in the hollow tree on the edge of the woods. The moon slid into the tree line as I climbed the stairs to the bedroom. I slept as if I were a child in Mama’s bed.
Later that morning, I cleaned the cabin until the tips of my fingers peeled and cracked open, but still the rancid smell remained. I couldn’t scrub my sin away no matter how hard I tried. So I chose a big rug from the bedroom upstairs, dragging it in front of the fireplace. No matter how right my actions were, I was wrong. In my deed, I destroyed my life on that mountain, but at the same time, I became part of its soul. The mountain owned me and always would. It used me to take away the evil that haunted its people. Nellie died with Hobbs. Who was worse, me or him?
February 17, 1939
How long can I live with this deed? Where can I go from here? God, I know You don’t want to hear from me, but Hobbs beat me. You let him. He would have killed me. Freedom isn’t freedom aft er all. God, I’m not sorry. And that’s my sin. You don’t want to listen to me. I don’t blame You. I will live and walk this earth knowing that anyone can do bad things. I keep studying that old hollow tree. I loved him. Once upon a time Nellie loved Hobbs Pritchard.
Twenty
A person can tell how they’re loved by how much they’re missed when they leave this world. Three weeks after Hobbs’s life ended no one had asked a question; not one soul had come to visit. No one sensed his spirit had left the earth. Like a fool, I was still living in that house like I was stuck, like the mountain kept me prisoner. Time moved in and out as if all was good. My food was almost gone, but that didn’t much matter. I wasn’t hungry. I floated from one room to another trying to paint my deed as a good upstanding choice. The truth stared me in the face, cracking the mirror in our bedroom, a long deep slit from one corner to the other. But still I had no regrets. My feelings were sliced away. Hobbs stood in every shadow. His scent marked our bed. I burned the fine linens and closed the upstairs room. His laughter filled my waking hours. On more than one night, I searched for him by the hollow tree, but he wouldn’t show himself. Somehow he knew he had won with the fall of the ax.
I slept like a dead person. A weariness owned every bone of my body, and I took to feeling sick each morning. I walked through my days losing count. One morning Jack came knocking at the door. I thought of sitting still. Maybe he would go away, but I knew he’d let himself into the house and find me sitting on the sofa. I went to greet him.
His forehead wrinkled. “You don’t look good, Nellie. I should have been up here before now.”
I swallowed the rank taste of hate in my mouth. He had no business caring. “I’m fine.” Past him was the ever-changing valley and of course the turned dirt of the garden.
“You don’t look yourself.” He held me with his stare.
I almost laughed in his face for being a fool, a stupid fool who couldn’t see the devil standing in front of him. “I need me some seeds.” Before someone came and hauled me off to jail, I had one thing to do, one mark to leave.
“You do have a nice big garden plot.” He looked at the garden. “You said you and your mama did a lot of gardening.”
His remembering didn’t soften me one bit. “I turned that garden, but Hobbs”—his name hung in the air like ice crystals frozen on a glass windowpane—“doesn’t like that I tore up the yard. He got right mad.” My words were flat.
“I guess he left again?” Jack looked everywhere but at me. “Aunt Ida said you came down to visit a few weeks ago, but Hobbs didn’t come with you. She’s been worrying over him like always.” He cocked his head to the side. “It ain’t like him to leave without a visit with her.”
“He breezed in here long enough to spoil my trip to Mama’s and left. I can’t say why he didn’t come see Aunt Ida.” The bitterness of my words could have poisoned a person.
“You still want to go to your mama’s?”
I looked into his green eyes and wanted to slap his face. “No, the time for that has come and gone.” I just wanted him to leave.
“You want to make me a list of seeds?”
He stood beside the kitchen table as I wrote the list on the back of a brown paper bag.
“What is that smell, Nellie?”
My pencil stopped for only a second as I wrote the name “asters.” “I burned a ham real bad last week. I guess you could say I turned it black to the bone. It’s a wonder I didn’t burn the house down. The smell won’t go away. Hobbs was right about my cooking.”
Jack watched me. “Ain’t nothing like burned meat. You must have burned it something terrible.” He tested me with one of his grins.
“I did.” I scribbled the rest of the list and handed it off to him.
After studying the paper, he looked up and laughed. “Flowers, you want nothing but flowers?”
“I need something pretty in my life. They’re for Hobbs too.” This was true.
Jack’s face darkened. “You sure he ain’t done something to you?”
For a second, I thought of confessing, but the moment passed without a word. “He was Hobbs, nothing but plain old Hobbs.”
He folded the piece of brown paper and put it in his front shirt pocket. “I’ll bring these back soon.”
“Good.”
Funny how I didn’t even like him anymore.
Instead of getting in his truck, he walked around it and headed out to the hollow tree.
I got a little light-headed.
“You got a dead smell out here by the tree,” he yelled.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I can’t think of what died.”
He nodded and walked back to his truck. “I’ll be back soon with the seeds.”
When his truck disappeared down the drive, the stone sitting on my chest got lighter.
It took me two mornings before I decided I had to do something. I sat down at the kitchen table and wrote me a letter.
Dear Mama:
You saw my future and you was right. It pains me to say that. I was wrong. I did learn something. I learned how to chop wood and be alone. I’m going to grow me a right nice garden with all kinds of flowers. I think of you often. I think most about the trip we took with Daddy that time. You remember? Do you remember what I told you? I wasn’t but nine and I already knew more than I should’ve. But if you don’t remember, I’ll understand. It was so beautiful there. Wasn’t it? I’ll always love you.
Your daughter,
Nellie
I sealed the letter and walked it down to Jack. Aunt Ida was hanging clothes in the side yard. She turned a frown on me. “Have you seen Hobbs lately?”
“He hasn’t been back since he beat the stuffing out of me.” I tried to contain the bubbling rage in my head.
“He always tells me when he’s leaving no matter what.”
“He didn’t this time. Maybe you mean as much to him as I do.” I let these words sink in. “You can never tell about old Hobbs, can you.” I handed her the envelope. “Could you make sure Jack takes this to the post office
the next time he goes?”
She took the letter but never looked me in the face. This gave me a power over her, but it was too late to care about such things.
“Jack’s got you some seeds and some lime. He said you’ve got something dead up there in the yard.” She picked that time to look me straight in the eyes. “What died?”
Without missing a beat, I laughed. “I had a coon hanging around some time back, nearly drove me crazy at night shuffling here and there, but I haven’t seen him in a while. I think he crawled in that hollow tree and died. Good thing. I believe I would have killed him myself soon.”
Her eyes grew big. “That stuff is on the table in the kitchen. Jack will mail your letter. He’s got a right soft spot for you. You don’t need to be causing trouble between him and Hobbs.”
I threw back my head and laughed. “Oh, I don’t think I could do that if I tried.”
“You be careful, now. That coon could have been rabid, and it’s as dangerous dead as alive.”
“I could almost guarantee he was rabid, but I can’t see how he can hurt me no more.”
The ground turned with ease as I planted the seeds, marking each row with the names of flowers: black-eyed Susans, zinnias, pansies, sunflowers, and snapdragons were just a few. While I was tossing the dirt, my hoe hit something hard. My heart did a little flip. I half expected to grab something like an elbow or finger bone. The jar was partway out of the ground. Inside was a big roll of bills—more money than I could have ever imagined. I didn’t even count it. Finding the jar explained why Hobbs didn’t want me digging a garden. I removed five one-hundred-dollar bills, and then an extra four. The rest—still a big wad—I put back in the jar and buried it with the seeds and him. I set out for the church. The thoughts that crowded my every hour parted like the Red Sea.
The spring shot out of the pipe. The cup was in the same place Maynard left it. I looked over my shoulder just to make sure no one was around. The water splashed into the tin cup and I placed it to my lips, sipping in a baptism. I dropped the cup and unfastened my skirt, dropping it to the ground. Next I took off my blouse. I slid off my slippers. The water numbed my feet as I squatted beneath the flow of water. I stayed there until my hair was soaked, until the bills tucked into my bra were soft.
God, please heal the evil side of my heart.
The sun sank low in the sky as I walked into the Connors’ yard. This time I was prepared, no longer that pitiful little fool. I knocked on the door.
One of the younger boys opened it, staring at me.
“Is your mama here?”
“Yes ma’am.” He ran away, leaving the door standing open. The room was neat and homey with quilts and a big bowl of apples on the table. How did they get fresh apples this time of year?
“What you want?” Mrs. Connor looked tired.
“Maynard can come home and here …” I shoved five of the one-hundred-dollar bills into her hand.
She unfolded the wad. “I’ll not take any money.” She pushed the money back at me. “Did you take a bath with it?”
“It ain’t my money. I found it where Hobbs must’ve buried it. You split it up with all the people he owes. You tell Maynard to come home like I said. It’s safe.” I turned to leave, tired to the bone. “I’d appreciate you don’t tell anyone where you got that.” I nodded at the money.
“You done killed him, ain’t you? Lordy mercy, you killed him.” She smiled, making her look years younger.
I couldn’t speak.
“You won’t hear me breathe a word. If you killed him, good. He had it coming to him, Nellie. You did us all a service. Don’t you ever feel bad. You walk off this mountain with your head held high. You remember, you’ll always belong here. You’re one of us now.”
If only someone could have said that earlier. “Would you do one more thing for me?”
“What you need?”
I pushed two one-hundred-dollar bills at her. “Would you make sure that Shelly gets this? Tell her she was right, and I love her for trying to save me.”
“Folks will always remember you, Nellie Pritchard.” Mrs. Connor smiled, taking the money. “She’ll get this. You can count on me.”
I left her on the porch, watching me.
“Nellie, you ever need anything, you let me know.”
I nodded and walked home as dark pushed in around me. My time was running out. Soon Aunt Ida would start to snoop around and find Hobbs’s truck up near the waterfall. It was time for me to leave.
Twenty-one
And just as I predicted, Aunt Ida had worked herself into a dither. She had sent Jack down the mountain with my letter and orders to find Hobbs. When Jack came back with nothing that evening, she insisted on paying me a visit. They were waiting on me when I got back from Mrs. Connor’s.
Aunt Ida stepped out of that truck with a determined look. “Jack went down and talked to Rose this morning. That’s Hobbs’s girlfriend in Asheville.”
Jack wasn’t looking at me.
A deep rage cracked open in my heart.
“She ain’t seen him in over a month. That’s when he came home last.”
“Oh, you mean the day he beat me?” I spit the words at her. I hated her for the unfailing love she had for Hobbs.
She skipped over my words. “She’s known him longer than you. He wouldn’t keep from seeing her. Something is wrong.”
I bit the inside of my mouth until the salty taste of blood seeped onto my tongue.
“What kind of clothes was he wearing the last time he was here?” She was yelling at me with all the hate I felt.
“I couldn’t quite make them out. I was trying to stay alive and my black swollen eyes got in the way.”
Jack stared at me.
He helped kill Hobbs, just like Aunt Ida. They knew what he was and never had the guts to stop him. Only me. I did.
“I guess Aunt Ida didn’t bother telling you about my beating and how much she helped.” My hate bubbled over. “He had on his overalls and blue shirt.”
“I want to see in that house.” Aunt Ida stamped her foot. “I want to see what she did to my boy.”
“That’s Nellie’s house too, Aunt Ida. You can’t just go in.” Jack touched her arm.
“I don’t care!” she cried.
“Go on in. It’s no place of mine.” I stared at Aunt Ida.
“He’s my boy.” She was pitiful.
“You go on in there. All that is mine is a few old dresses.”
Jack reached out to me, but I stepped back. “Go on with her. Get your fill.” They were mean words.
Jack and Aunt Ida went inside. I sat down on the edge of my garden. The ground was warm and moist. Through the front window I saw the ghost of Jack’s mama following him around the room. I wished with all my heart I could tell him what all I knew. When they came out, Aunt Ida went straight to the truck, but Jack walked over to see me. His mama followed right along. She smiled at me, but it was a pained smile, as if to say nothing ends, nothing gets settled.
“I want you to go with me tomorrow so we can look over the land, see if we can find some trace of him. He has lots of enemies. You could be in danger.”
I laughed. “You come in the morning. I’ll go then.”
Jack nodded. “You should have told me he beat you.” Jack’s mama shook her head and walked back into the house.
“Why?” I spoke around the lump in my throat.
“Because.”
“So you could help me like you did the morning he came home and spoiled my trip?” I stared at him. “You come on back in the morning.” The hatred I felt drained out of my feet. The healing had begun.
He nodded.
Twenty-two
That night a storm came like I knew it would. It was the kind of storm that showed up on the heels of warm air too early in the spring. Its power built in the sky and crashed through the heavens, shaking the foundation of the house. The mountain was telling me good-bye.
I found Hobbs’s old blue shirt a
nd overalls. I stood in front of his shaving mirror, cutting my hair until it was right close to my head and stuck out like a boy’s. His cap pulled down on my head perfect. In the mirror was someone who looked Hobbs Pritchard in the eye and lived.
Merlin Hocket stood in the front room.
“He’s gone.”
“Yes, but just like you, I will never rest. Hobbs Pritchard will always be a haunting. I’ll never move past what him and this mountain did to me.” He turned and walked through the closed front door.
Right before dawn a fog rolled in, and I took out walking through the woods. I wasn’t a bit scared. I knew enough not to walk off a cliff. It wouldn’t much matter if I did. I had my feed sack with two dresses tucked inside the bib of the baggy overalls. I left the others behind. The dresses I brought would be used for the baby clothes that I would need. I had two hundred dollars down the front of my shirt. That would do me for a while.
The fog was hard to see through, so I was on the road before I saw Jack’s truck making its way up to the house. I tucked my chin in my collar and looked straight ahead. I released a prayer to heaven. God was listening cause the truck never slowed down. When Jack got to the house, he’d find a nice fire burning in the fireplace, breakfast on the table, and a note saying I’d gone for an early morning walk to clear my thoughts. I wrote how much I loved Hobbs, and how I couldn’t live without him. Nellie was gone forever.
The last time I saw Black Mountain was in the side mirror of the Connors’ truck as Mrs. Connor and Shelly drove me down the mountain. The hawk I’d seen at the waterfall was circling in and out of the fog, a flash of wing, a sharp cry.
Part Two
Josie Clay
Twenty-three
If you want to know how Nellie Pritchard got herself into the mess she did, you got to know parts of my story. See, Nellie belonged to me, my only child. Sometimes I could have sworn we were one and the same, but at other times, we was on the opposite ends of the earth from each other. The good Lord knew I did my best to send her in the right direction just like my mama did me and her mama did her. It’s a weakness trying to keep our daughters from making the same mistakes. But I didn’t make one bit of difference. I didn’t stop one thing.
