Other desires rise in my upright ones,
Desire that cannot be spoken or known
October 27, 1931. Today when we got home from school, Miss Janey Jo was there. She had come over to do the washing, for which we were all grateful. Everything was washed and dried when we got home. I helped her bring it in and we made up all the beds. Mama was so grateful she about cried when we put clean sheets on her bed. After that, Miss Janey Jo stayed long enough to fix supper. I helped her, and we made up a double batch of cornbread and some fried ham that will keep for a few days. It was already getting dark by the time we were done, so Daddy drove her home in the wagon while the rest of us ate and cleaned up.
Jake Hatton came by while I was getting the washing in. Miss Janey Jo had gone on inside to start supper, and I was out in the back all by myself. I was yanking the sheets down right quick, to get them in before the dew fell, when he came up from the creek, hippy-hopping and twitching along, and he did not say a word. He just waited for me to take them down and fold them, the whole time muttering about how he needed him some G.D. whiskey. I made him go back down to the creek to wait for me to get it because I do not want him seeing me going into the woodshed where Daddy keeps his jars.
You should have seen how happy he was to see me coming with my pint jar! He about fell into the creek, doing his hoppy little dance, grinning so big I thought his face would split open. I reckon he was not glad enough to give me a tip or to pay me what he still owes me, though. He is a skinflint, but I reckon I should not begrudge him too much. It was nice to get the 50c.
October 28, 1931. As soon as we got home from school today, I ran over to Darlene’s house. We went out to the barn to look for eggs, but Billy Ray came out while were there and stared at us until we got to feeling funny, so we left and came on over to our house.
Whenever I look at Billy Ray Carlton, I cannot help but think we are a whole lot better off with Daddy than with him. When I complain about Daddy getting drunk, Darlene rolls her eyes and says, “Pearl, you don’t know anything. Billy Ray is a whole lot worse.” I do not tell her how bad it can get, with Daddy cussing and yelling and throwing things, and then passing out on the floor sometimes, because I imagine Darlene and her mother might have to put up with a lot, too. We are a lot alike, even though she is a Negro and I am Caucasian.
I wished Mrs. Carlton would come over with us, but Darlene says she does not go anywhere when Billy Ray is at the house. Darlene generally can go, but Mrs. Carlton says she should stay at home to be with her husband. It is a good thing Billy Ray is not at home very often. He goes over to Johnny Joe Sunders place a lot because Johnny Joe has a still and he lets him drink whiskey. I bet he gets extra mean when he is drunk, but I did not say anything to Darlene about that.
I just found out that they finally got old Al Capone. That worries me a little bit. Al Capone is a lot smarter than I am, and he has been running liquor for a long time, so he knows what he is doing. I do not know how to duck and dodge the way he does, and if I get caught, they might send me up the river for life because I do not have a fancy, slick-talking lawyer who knows how to finagle the justice system. I am praying the Lord will let me get by with this for just a little while longer so I can buy everyone nice presents for Christmas. I have already spent a lot for diapers for Sapphire and new brogans for myself. I hope I can get pretty patent leather Mary Janes for Easter.
October 29, 1931. This evening, before it got dark, we picked pumpkins and made jack-o’-lanterns for the mumming on Saturday night. Jasper is an artist. He can carve a pumpkin to look just like a ghoul, so his pumpkin will be the best of all. Daddy helped us. He has not had a drop to drink, which is very good news. He will not be getting drunk and ruining our mumming on Saturday. We will finish up our jack-o’-lanterns tomorrow.
Mama is tired and sickly. She still has not gotten over all it took out of her, traipsing through the countryside all night long when she went out looking for Sapphire. She had been nice and fat before that, but she has fallen off something awful. She is nothing but skin and bones, and she looks sickly all the time. Daddy tells us that she will recover soon enough, once she can get fully rested up again, but she is not able to sleep much as little Sapphire is always whimpering to be fed. Sapphire seems to be falling off, too, even though she is nearly always latched onto Mama’s titty. It is too bad cow’s milk does not agree with her, even if we water it down and mix molasses in it.
October 30, 1931. Hallowe’en is tomorrow, and I was happy about it until dinnertime at school today. We always celebrate Hallowe’en at Pap-pa’s house by having a mumming, which is always very much fun. I already have my costume made up. I soaked an old black hat and hung it on a broomstick to dry so that it has a pointy crown, and I am going to carry the broom and dress up like a witch in one of Mam-ma’s old black dresses. I will have the best costume of everyone.
At school, everyone was talking about the mummings they would be going to on Saturday. Most everybody is going to be a ghost or a witch. Sam Hutchinson said he and all his brothers are going to dress as clansmen and ride over to Alcoa to scare the coloreds over there. I am pretty sure Sam is not Scottish, and I have never heard him talk about his clan before, so I asked him what their tartan looked like. He looked at me funny, then laughed, just as Miss Weston came over and asked us what we were talking about. After we explained that we always hold mummings on Hallowe’en and how we dress up as goblins and witches, she got mad at us and blessed us out! She said we should not take part in such devilment and heathen practices, that it was against God’s holy orders to have dealings with witches, divination, or evil spirits.
That made me feel just terrible. We explained to her that it was all in fun, but she told us that celebrating Hallowe’en is the same as celebrating death, and we should always choose life over death. I understand what she was trying to say. Yes, goblins and evil spirits are bad, but we never think of Hallowe’en that way. I am very sad about this. I do not want to go against God’s will, but I also do not want to miss the mumming.
The good news is that Mama is doing better. She was in the kitchen making hoecakes when we got home from school. She gave Sapphire some water with molasses, and it quieted her down for a while.
I never did figure out why Sam says dressing up in kilts would scare colored folks.
October 31, 1931. Today is Hallowe’en. Jasper, Sardius, Beryl, and Daddy spent the whole morning on the back porch finishing up their jack-o’-lanterns, but I stayed inside so I could ask Mama about what Miss Weston had said about Hallowe’en being a celebration of death and an abomination unto the Lord.
My mama is so smart and sweet. She set me down close beside her and said that Miss Weston was partly right, but not one hundred percent right because she does not know the whole story. We should not honor demons or death, and we should not have anything to do with witchcraft. But God knows our hearts, and He knows that when we have mummings, we are not celebrating death deep down in our hearts. That is just the outside trappings of an old custom. What we are really celebrating is a family tradition that goes all the way back to old Scotland and Ireland, and we are only doing it in fun, so that does not count as courting the Devil. It is one of the ways our family has of remembering the old ways, the places that the older folks miss so much.
She told me that Great-Mam-ma loved the Lord with all her heart, but when she was a little girl in Ulster, everyone in their village dressed up on Hallowe’en, and all they did was have fun and just be together and take a day when they did not have to work. It was a way of reminding themselves that life does not always have to be so hard, that sometimes you can just have fun pretending to be bad. It is a way to mock the devil, not to honor him.
Miss Weston does not understand that. We come from a different place than she does. That is all right. We all are different, and we do things in different ways. Mama said that she thought it best if we just celebrate in fun without dishonoring the Lord in our hearts, and that we should not say anything
to Miss Weston that might grieve her soul.
That made sense to me. My mama is very smart, and she always knows just what to say to me to make me feel right. Now I am going to get dressed up in my witch’s costume and go have a good time at Pap-pa’s and Miss Janey Jo’s.
Cold, waning days, wind roving and brutal.
Darkness hovers upon the earth.
Joy and suffering collide.
The Spirit sits and watches,
The Great Dark lurks in the hidden places.
November
November 1, 1931. We had a very good time last night at Pap-pa’s mumming. When he saw that I had on one of Mam-ma’s old black dresses, he laughed and slapped his knee, saying that Mam-ma would enjoy seeing me put it to good use. Pap-pa, Sardius, Jasper, Uncle Woodrow and Daddy all dressed alike as scarecrows. Miss Janey Jo dressed up like a fancy lady. She wore an old-fashioned dress and a hat with about 10 goose feathers, and she carried a parasol. Beryl wore a sheet and said she was a ghost. Mama did not dress up, but I think she enjoyed the evening.
At church this morning, no one said anything to Miss Weston about the mumming, but she probably knew what we had done because she preached from Deuteronomy 18: 10-12, which goes like this: “There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord.”
Everyone was very quiet, not saying a word, not even “Amen” every once in a while. When at the end the hymns started up, every one sang loud, like they were happy with the sermon and pretending that they had not just spent the evening before acting like witches and goblins and being an abomination to the Lord.
Miss Weston did not come to dinner at Pap-pa’s house today. I think it was because she is mad at us. Mama says she probably is not, but if she is, she will get over it. Missionaries cannot carry a grudge because that is a sin, and it is best if I do not bring it up. We have to keep to our own counsel.
Mrs. Carlton came over later in the day, carrying some goat milk in a bottle. She says babies do better on goat milk than they do on cow’s milk and that maybe Sapphire will gain a little if she gets some more nourishment. Sapphire seems to like it fine. Mrs. Carlton took her on her lap and gave her a bottle of it. She sucked it right down, and she did not spit it back up again. Mama got very quiet, and when I went over to her to see if she was all right, she was smiling, I reckon that means she is happy that Mrs. Carlton brought that milk. I know I am.
November 1, 1931
Dearest Cecilia,
For the first time since I have been here I am at odds with the people of this community. On Friday, I discovered that not only do the children celebrate the heathen practice of parading around in ghoulish costumes in honor of Hallowe’en, they do it with the full accommodation and participation of their parents! I was so outraged that I gave them a stern lecture, which put everyone out of sorts, but I do not think it made any difference in their behavior. I know they disregarded everything I had to say and went right ahead and participated in who knows what kind of obscene rituals in observance of the devil’s night.
Today, I let them know of my displeasure by preaching from Deuteronomy 18. You have never seen such guilty looks as on the faces of people in the congregation. But no one came forward to confess their participation in abominations, so I know my sermon did no good whatsoever. How am I to enlighten these people if they are so blind to their own sins and so unwilling to listen to the direct admonitions of Scripture? Sometimes I wonder if I am doing any good here at all.
With a heavy heart,
Emily
November 2, 1931
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
My friend Darlene’s mother has a goat that has two babies, which are called kids. They are just darling, the way they leap around. There are two little girls, named Flossie and Barbara, and they are so tame we can hold them and tote them around like puppies. The grown-up goat is Matilda. Mrs. Carlton used to have a daddy goat, but she says that boy goats stink to high heaven, so she decided not to bring him with her from New Orleans. She said she would not be able to stand having him in the truck with her, even in the back!
Darlene’s mother milks Matilda every morning and makes cheese from the milk, and she brings milk to my baby sister who is not gaining weight as she should. Goat milk is better for you than cow’s milk, and Sapphire likes it very much. We are grateful that Mrs. Carlton brought it.
November 2, 1931. We pretty much have all the crops in, praise the Lord!
Daddy has gone off to tend to his still, so Darlene and her mama came over. Until he gets his supply back up, we can count on him being gone most days. I just wish I could find where he is hiding it. Jake Hatton and Pap-pa both are wanting more whiskey, and there is not a drop to be found out in the woodshed.
It was warm today for November, so we played outside all afternoon. We made up a scene from The Secret Garden, which is my favorite book, and we acted it out. Beryl played Mary, and although I wanted to play Dickon, I let Darlene because she seems out of sorts these days, and I wanted to cheer her up. I played Colin, and it was more fun than I thought it would be because I got to throw a temper tantrum. I rolled around on the ground and screamed and carried on until we all got so tickled we forgot to finish the scene. We all started pretending to throw temper tantrums, rolling around, kicking and screaming, and laughing. Mama, Mrs. Carlton, and Uncle Woodrow came out to see what all the ruckus was about, and when they saw us laughing so hard, they all got tickled, too.
November 3, 1931. Good news! Jasper and Sardius collected the money from the fellow who bought Dandyman. Today Sardius laid out of school so they could catch a ride to town for it. Then they went to Greenbrier store and bought Jasper a new pair of brogans. Sardius got a pair of rubber boots that fit over his good shoes so he can go outside in the rain and the muck and not have to worry about keeping the cold and wet out, and they got all of us, including Daddy and Uncle Woodrow, new wool sweaters. Both Sapphire’s and mine are pink, which I love very much. Beryl’s is blue, Ruby’s is green, and Mama’s is a nice, soft red. Daddy’s and Uncle Woodrow’s are brown.
Jake Hatton bought a pint of whiskey today, and he paid me cash money. I hope I have enough saved up by Christmas time to buy everybody nice presents. I would like to buy something special for Mama. She deserves nice things because she never buys herself anything when we go through the Sears & Roebuck catalogue and pick out what we want. I also would like to get a pretty shirt and a tie for Jasper so he can go courting. He is struck on Mabel Hathaway. She is sweet, although she has a gimpy leg because she caught the polio when she was little, but not too bad. It makes her limp some.
I would like to buy a dress for Sapphire, a baby doll for Ruby, and a new coat for Beryl. All she has is my old coat, which started out being Daddy’s, then Jasper’s, and then Sardius’, before I got it, so it is old as the hills and way too big for her. Also, that blamed old Ralph Lee tore the sleeve last winter. He grabbed it and slung it over a barbwire fence and ripped a great big hole in it. Mama tried to fix it, but you can tell it is patched. Beryl hates to wear it because she gets scundered if people think we are poor.
I also plan to buy Darlene a present, although I have not decided what yet, and I have not decided what I will get Sardius or Daddy, either. Daddy had better watch it, or I might not get him anything. He is behaving himself now, but it is a long time to Christmas yet.
November 3, 1931
Dear Jonathan,
You are a saint! Thank you for the very generous boxes of goods you sent to me. Many of the things are much needed here—especially the shoes and winter garments for the children. It has turned cold, and many of them do not have gloves, socks, or in some cases, even shoes.
Although the people
here are very proud and will not accept any charity, Miss Halfacre, Mrs. Miller, and I are devising a way to soothe their excessive pride and convince them to take a few things to benefit them and their children.
Dear Jonathan, your kindness and generosity have exceeded my wildest hopes. I will write to the Ladies’ Guild and to the Brothers of Christ’s Words to thank them as well.
While you have already been most generous, since you ask, we could use more books for the children. I have started a library, and the few books I brought have flown off the shelves. If you could find books suitable for children of all ages, they will be very much used, I can promise you! Of course, we can always use more clothing, household items, food, blankets, and the general basic necessities of life. I also hope you are thinking of how we might fund that scholarship program.
I remain your devoted friend,
Emily
P.S. While some of the more fanciful hats will be amusing to the members of the community, it is not likely that they will find a home. The women here are not inclined to wear finery or anything they would call frivolous. While I am grateful for all you have provided, I encourage you to gather more sedate styles, if possible.
November 4, 1931. When I got home today, Darlene was sitting at the kitchen table with Mama! She was eating some pie and drinking coffee, and they were having the best time, talking in French. We all went outside to play, and guess who came over to spoil our fun? Ralph Lee Bittertree. He is the meanest boy I ever met, and he thinks he is high and mighty, too, and that gives him reason to treat everyone else bad. Today he had a squirt gun pistol, and he chased us around, shooting us with cold water. He was especially mean to Darlene, running up on her and trying to squirt it down the front of her dress. She tried to push him away, and he yanked at her sweater so hard he tore it. I kicked him in the leg, and then we ran inside and told on him, but he ran off before Mama could get outside to have a talk with him. He is a low-down varmint!
In the Midst of Innocence Page 8
