by Leisha Kelly
TEN
Samuel
George was about keeled over from exhaustion, with sweat rolling down his cheeks by the time we got Lula Bell in the ground. Despite the little bit of rain, the ground was hard as rock and already almost dry.
I sent George to sit in the shade with Robert and Franky. Joe was still shoveling valiantly beside me.
“You oughta rest a while too, Samuel,” George called to me. “It’s awful hot. Even fer July.”
“This dirt won’t jump in the hole by itself.”
“We’ll get it,” he persisted. “No use killin’ yerself.”
I stopped long enough to pull the kerchief from my pocket and wipe my brow. Odd as it may sound, I thought of Juli always taking the time to press and fold my handkerchiefs so neatly. She even stuffed them in the pockets for me. Every clean pair of pants I put on already had one in it, just in case I’d need it. Summer and winter. Springtime and harvest. That’s the way she’d always been. A kerchief in the pocket. And a smile for me in her eyes.
“Somethin’s differ’nt ’bout you today,” George said. “What’s botherin’ ya?”
“I just lost my cow. What do you think is bothering me?”
“Dunno. Somethin’ more’n ol’ Lula Bell, I’d wager. Has to do with that little girl your brother left you, don’t it? Wonderin’ how you’ll feed her?”
“I might be wondering how to feed everybody, the same as you, George.”
He pulled his hat off his head and slapped it against his knee, sending tiny sweat droplets scattering across Franky’s back. “Well, we got that to think about, you’re right.” He looked at each of the boys for a minute. “Say, Joe, you’re looking tired too. Why don’t you go on t’ the well and fetch yerself a drink?”
“I’m all right for a while, Pa.” Joe barely looked up. He liked to finish what he started.
“No use overdoin’ yerself,” George persisted, standing to his feet. “You boys all go on. Make sure the critters is got water too. Gotta check ’em more often in this weather. Me an’ Samuel’ll finish. Hard part’s done.”
“You sure, Pa?” Joe asked.
Robert was on his feet, looking at me.
“’Course I’m sure. Go on.”
I didn’t say anything. Robert accepted that well enough as agreement, and he and Franky and Joe put their shovels in George’s wagon and started for the well.
“Julia’s seemin’ differ’nt too,” George said as soon as they were gone.
I shoved my spade in the pile of dirt just as hard as I could.
“You can tell me ’bout it, you know. Ain’t no reason you can’t.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Sure, there is. I’m knowin’ that, jus’ from what Sam told me. Mighty strange, your brother coming to visit so late at night an’ not even stayin’ over.”
“That would be his business.”
“An’ yours. Whose girl did he bring, anyhow? I unnerstand she ain’t his.”
I said nothing, hoping he’d shut up and work. I dumped another shovel load of dirt into Lula Bell’s shallow grave. And he was just standing there watching me.
“Is she yours?”
My shovel stopped, and I looked up at him. “No,” I said simply, not figuring I owed him any explanation.
“’Scuse me for askin’, but there’s some resemblance, you know. An’ she told me herself she was a Wortham. That, an’ seein’ you all uptight. I couldn’t figger why—”
“It’s not your job to figure,” I blurted out. “I already told you no.”
George cocked his head a bit. “I didn’t mean t’ offend you. I know you pretty good by now, Samuel, that you’re too much a Christian t’ be steppin’ out on your wife, but that’s now. We all done things in the past we ain’t proud of.”
I could feel a stinging sort of heat crawling up my spine again. “I’ve done things. But not that.”
“I’m jus’ sayin’ if it was so, you could tell me, even if you couldn’t tell ever’body else. I’d unnerstand. We all make mistakes. Mine was drink. You know ’bout that. Everybody’s got somethin’.”
I only stood there, fiery anger working in my bones. How could he so quickly accuse me, when he hadn’t even heard the half? It should’ve been no surprise with Ben Law, especially after I told him what Edward and Katie had to say. But George? I wouldn’t have expected this from him. From snooty Miss Hazel, maybe, but not him.
George was working his hat around in his hand, looking a little sheepish. “Can’t see why he left her with you, you know—”
“Because times are hard!” I said too sternly, too loudly. “Because her mama didn’t want to feed her anymore or take her along while she goes skipping around singing at one disreputable place after another! And my brother was fool enough to think that she could be mine without looking for facts. Because of the name. Because somebody said so. And that’s where we’re at, George. Keeping her till somebody else will, because somebody has to! And if you think Juli and I are acting different, just consider how you’d feel if someone came and left you another child!”
“Well, yeah. I see what you mean. Another young’un’d be a little taxin’, considerin’ the ten I already got. An’ you been bearin’ ’bout half my burden there, so I can see how you’re already shoulderin’ enough—”
I was scooping again, impatient with his talk. “You gonna help me level this ground?”
“Got you a burr under the saddle today, don’t ya?” He reached the crumpled and dirty kerchief from his own back pocket and swiped it across his forehead, leaving a long, gray smudge.
I didn’t want to be angry at him. He was just curious. He’d ask anybody anything. He wasn’t spiteful about it. I took a deep breath, shoveled some more, and reminded myself how he’d struggled over losing his wife. We’d become like brothers. He just wanted to know what was going on with us, that was all. Maybe if I were in his place, I’d be asking questions too.
I thought of Juli again, her clear green eyes clouded with cares. How could I help her be sure of me?
“So the little girl’s some kinda kin, then?” George persisted.
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Probably. Sheriff Law is trying to help me find her people. We’ll know for sure before long, I guess.”
“What about your brother? Don’t he know?”
I wondered if half the countryside would be asking me this before it was all over with. “No. He just jumped to conclusions. Like everybody else so far.”
George looked at me long and straight. “He thought she was yours?”
“So did you.”
He shook his head. “But he must a’ knowed somethin’ where she come from, to have her with him such a long trip—”
“He met her mother. In Albany.”
Something different, something strange was working in George’s eyes now. And I knew immediately what it was. A mother would know who her child’s father was. Of course she would know. And Edward should know because he’d talked to her. So why would anybody believe me?
I sunk the spade one more time into the pile of dirt, feeling almost numb on my feet. “Think what you want, George,” I said. “I told you the truth.”
“Now, I never been one t’ accuse you a’ lyin’,” he said quickly. “Just mighty strange, that’s all. Where’d your brother go? He say?”
“No. He might be on his way back to New York by now.”
“Long trip for such a short visit.”
“Visiting wasn’t the priority.”
George scratched his head and put his hat back on. “He come, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” I took another deep breath. “He came.”
“Such a long way. That’s some kinda priority.”
We finished filling the hole and leveled the ground pretty quickly after that. George didn’t speak again until I was about to throw my spade into the wagon.
“Your brother live in Albany, then?”
“I guess so.”
“He just got out of the penitentiary in March. I don’t know if he’s really settled anywhere yet.”
“Oh.” George was quiet again, putting his own shovel in the back of the wagon and gazing long at the sky.
“Well,” he said finally, not looking at me. “I come t’ wonder why you never talk on yer fam’ly. Not perticularly heartwarmin’, I wager?”
“Not particularly.”
I started walking back toward the house, toward the well. We had a lot more work to do. We should clean out Lula Bell’s stall. And Sukey’s too, to be on the safe side. We should shovel out all the manure and old straw and hay and sop it out good with buckets of water before Sukey and her calf came back in. That way, if it was a sickness, maybe we could stop the spread.
I was at the well, drinking another brimming dipper of water when I heard the motor car down the lane. I knew its sound immediately, but I tried to tell myself it was somebody else. Sheriff Law maybe, with good news.
But I wasn’t surprised, turning to see my brother’s beat-up Model T. For the first time, for just a moment, I felt a new and bitter question rising in me. He’s trouble, Lord. Always has been. Never tried to work an honest day. Why does he have a car? Why have you blessed him that way?
And then something else took over. Another anger. Why was he here? Why would he come back? Looking for Juli, to harass her some more? I wished George and his boys would leave. Robert too. Because I wasn’t sure what Edward was up to. Or what I would do about it.
He gave us all a big wave like he was a long-lost son.
“That’s him, ain’t it?” George asked me.
“Yeah. That’s him.”
“Well. I’ll be right pleased to meet him.”
I didn’t reply to that. I just headed for Edward’s car as he came driving in; I wanted to be the first to hear whatever he would have to say. All three boys came out of the barn and stood watching. Company wasn’t an everyday occurrence around here, that was for sure. But still, it would’ve been nice if they had known not to stop everything for Edward’s sake. Maybe that was what Edward wanted. Just to disrupt our lives again and again, showing up and claiming everybody’s attention when we had plenty enough to do already.
“Found you home today!” he called in greeting. “Glad of that. Spare me some fresh water?”
“You could’ve gotten that at any well in the state,” I said, knowing I sounded unfriendly but not caring. George looked at me funny, but I didn’t care about that either.
“Sure,” Edward said with a smile. “But not every well is guarded by my little brother and his fierce little wife. Nice to see you again. Can I get that drink?” He stepped out of the car.
“Help yourself.”
He walked to George and quickly extended his hand. “Edward Wortham, sir. Pleased to meet you.”
George looked at me. He glanced over toward the boys by the barn, standing all stair steps for height, Robert in the middle.
“Can sure tell which one’s the Wortham,” Edward said. “Built like his father.” He glanced at George. “So the other two must be yours. Fine-looking boys.”
George smiled. “George Hammond. Closest neighbor. Nice to meet ya too.” He started walking with Edward toward the well. “You thinkin’ to stick around these parts?”
“Don’t know yet what I’ll do. Haven’t got a place to stay over yet. Been sleeping in my car.”
“Samuel ain’t asked you?”
They both looked over at me.
“Nope.” Edward smiled carefully in my direction. “I think he’s a little sore. On account of Katie.”
George gave a knowing nod. “Strange thing to bring on a fella, if you don’t mind me sayin’. Some little girl he ain’t never see’d before.”
“He might’ve had some idea. In the back of his mind.” Edward defended himself. “And what was I to do? Leave the kid alongside the road?”
I stared at the both of them, talking like they’d known each other a lot longer than two minutes. Maybe George was curious. Maybe he just didn’t care. But Edward was enjoying himself again, I knew that much.
“You two can jaw all you want,” I told them. “There’s work to do around here, and somebody’s got to do it. I told you both the truth. Make what you want of me. I’m going to go clean that stall.”
George started in. “Well, now, your brother just got here—”
“He never said he needed me for anything. Only my water.”
George shook his head at me. And Edward laughed. “Don’t expect him to be too friendly,” he said. “I told you he was sore. And I did nothing but try to help.”
“Help?” The fire of anger wrenched through me like a storm, and I found it hard to contain myself. “She said you hit her, Edward. A scared little girl. Six years old. What kind of help is that?”
His smile at me was bigger than ever. “Don’t you sound like a father?”
I almost hit him. Honestly, I’m not sure why I didn’t. George standing there, maybe. Or the boys. “It doesn’t matter what I sound like. Why’d you hit her? What kind of excuse do you have for that?”
He averted his eyes for a minute, looking out over the timber’s treetops. “I won’t give you one. I know it wasn’t right. But you know, it was an awful long ride. And after a while she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut. Fussing one minute and talking up a storm the next. I ’bout lost my mind.” He looked at George. “Know what I mean?”
“Well . . .” George drawled. “There’s times a little quiet’s harder t’ find than a penny under the new moon, I can unnerstand that. But I wouldn’t hit no kid that weren’t my own and then only a lick or two to the backside to learn ’em a lesson. You unnerstand?”
“Yes, sir,” Edward said. “You s’pose I ought to apologize?”
His question bothered me immediately, like he was just looking for an excuse to stick around.
“Yeah,” George answered before I got a word out. “Thing to do is make things right.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he said, suddenly looking at me again. “Ever since I got out. Whether folks want to believe me or not.”
“Well, you made a good start,” George was continuing. “Just by admittin’ you was wrong. Don’t you think so, Samuel?”
“If that’s what he did.”
George eyed me again. “How long’s it been since you brothers seen each other?”
“Fifteen years,” Edward said right away.
“You been writin’?”
We both shook our heads.
“Well, it don’t seem you got much of an unnerstandin’ goin’. Shame to leave it that way, case you end up with miles between you again. I reckon the best thing is you sit down an’ talk. I’ll clean the stall an’ get the boys to help me.” He looked at both of us. “Think you can do that?”
I didn’t answer.
Edward was looking at me too. “I don’t think he can. It’s not me hitting Katie but bringing her here that’s got him the most worked up. Being found out for the cheat he is.”
“That’s all you want, isn’t it?” I questioned. “To spread your lie and see what trouble it can bring. You came all this way savoring the thought, didn’t you? But why? What did I ever do to you?”
He laughed. Long.
I turned my back.
“He can’t do it,” Edward said. “He can’t sit down with me. I knew when I come he couldn’t.”
I walked to the barn, leaving him and George behind me. I knew that perhaps I was behaving badly. Maybe George and the boys would all think less of me. But if I stayed, it might just be that much worse. Edward wasn’t wanting to reconcile. He seemed to be wanting to drive me to distraction. Maybe get me to fight him. I didn’t know.
I grabbed the biggest shovel and headed for Lula Bell’s stall. This was hot, hard work today, and I was in no mood for Edward’s mockery. I found myself hoping that Juli and the girls would go over and eat the noon meal with Lizbe
th, and that Edward would be gone before they ever got back.
Robert came in to help me, followed closely by Franky.
“Why does he have to be like that?” Robert asked me.
“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks he’s funny.”
“He wants to stay till that girl Katie comes back,” Franky said. “Pa told him she went berry pickin’ with Mrs. Wortham, so he decided to stay right here till they get back so’s he can say he’s sorry.”
“I need the wheelbarrow. Think you can get it for me, Franky? It’s over in the middle, where the hay hooks are hanging up.”
“I’ll get it,” he said quickly and disappeared.
“Robert, I want you to watch for your mother. When you see her coming, you come and get me right away. Edward was a bother to her yesterday, and I don’t mean for it to happen again.”
“Why don’t you run him off? All he does is laugh at you.”
I looked at my son and could have hugged him then and there. He, and maybe he alone, seemed to understand. “What do you think? What’s he saying?”
“That he’s thinking to apologize. And maybe work on his car while he’s waiting. But I don’t know, Dad. If I talked to you like he does, I figure I’d pay for it.”
“Do you know what it means about something being personal?”
“Yeah. Like it’s your business and not anybody else’s.”
“Yes, but with Edward talking to me the way he does, it’s a different kind of personal. He’s got something against me that makes him want to hurt me some way, that’s the only way I know to explain it.”
“But what? You never picked at him or nothin’ when you was a kid, did you?”
“No. I knew better than that.”
He was looking at me so solemnly. Then Franky came carefully back in, balancing the heavy wooden wheelbarrow as well as he could.
Why didn’t I run my brother off? It was an honest question. And I wasn’t sure of the answer. I wouldn’t ask him to stay, despite George’s feelings on that. But I guessed I’d let him work on his car in my yard if that was what he wanted. And maybe let him apologize, if he really meant it. After all, he seemed to think he was telling the truth, and Katie did too. I would look like a cheat to him, then, if he really believed it all. That wasn’t his fault. Maybe there’d be a way to part with some understanding. Or at least in some measure of peace.
