Martha Jane took a steadying breath. She envisioned the unseen forces as her friends, the friends she would have if she weren’t so deformed. She smiled and blew them a kiss from her heart as she wished them well. The dirt devil died at Martha Jane’s feet.
Martha Jane turned and started across the cornfield.
The stalks were at the early stages of wither, and if rain didn’t come soon, they would die. She knew her family couldn’t withstand the loss of even one crop.
Their savings had all been spent on Mama’s and her own medical bills.
As Martha Jane stepped into their dirt road, she heard and then spotted a pickup truck coming around the bend.
“Wonderful,” she said with a heavy sigh. “The Barnetts.”
As they pulled up next to her, Mrs. Barnett looked at Martha Jane with a mix of pity and curiosity. Martha Jane knew that look well. It said, “You should be in an institution. You shouldn’t be walking around like normal folks.” But Mrs. Barnett didn’t say it out loud.
It wouldn’t be polite.
“Is your daddy home, dear?” Mrs. Barnett asked.
“And would you like a ride to your house?”
Mrs. Barnett wore a blue traveling dress which looked hot for the Florida June sun. Her husband was still in field clothes, fresh from working his tobacco crop.
“Yes, ma’am,” Martha Jane replied. “Thank you. Daddy might be back already.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, ma’am.” Martha Jane hurried to the back of the truck and, with a combination move of jump and twist, managed to position herself on the open tailgate.
The ride in the back was pleasant. Martha Jane preferred it to riding in the cab with the couple. True, they only reflected what most of what Brookland thought, but she still didn’t want to talk to them.
Martha Jane had survived one of the nation’s deadliest diseases of the early twentieth century, polio. She was grateful for her life, but she wasn’t grateful for the medical quackery afterward. For instance, the doctors insisted she lie on her wooden floor for four hours a day in the dark to help straighten her spine. It was one of the many stupid things that hadn’t worked.
Now at fifteen, Martha Jane’s left shoulder was bigger than her right, and late at night, when no one could see her sobbing, she swore to avenge the injustice.
Knowing marriage was unlikely for Martha Jane, Mama taught her to call the wind. It wasn’t entirely a proper profession for women, but neither was it forbidden.
Only men were socially acceptable as rainmakers, but calling the wind was such a rare talent there weren’t many mores attached to it yet. Mama had learned both skills in secret from her own father, and they had kept it family business all these years.
She started rainmaking lessons with Jediah, but because of his field work schedule, he didn’t practice much. He always thought he could train later, but he was wrong. Mama died.
Martha Jane wiped a tear away as the truck came to a stop next to the pecan tree. She slid off the tailgate and rushed to the screen door.
“I’ll see if Daddy’s home yet,” she said.
He had just returned from the back forty, so he was still dirty and sweaty, but he greeted the Barnetts warmly and offered them seats in the porch swing.
Martha Jane brought cold sweet tea for their guests and ice water for Daddy.
Martha Jane listened closely, and when she heard the voices harden, she gathered the courage to peek out the front window.
Mrs. Barnett was speaking. “Liza told us Jediah said so, and we believe her. Are you calling our daughter a liar?”
Martha Jane gasped. She’d never heard anyone speak to her father like that, but she knew Mrs. Barnett was known for saying more than she should.
“I’m sure Liza believes it,” Daddy replied. “But she’s mistaken. Jediah cannot call the rain. He’s not a rainmaker.” His lips pursed together, and his face hardened.
Mrs. Barnett persisted. “You would have all of our crops fail? Including yours?”
Daddy took a breath, gathering his patience. “I would do anything to end this drought. If I thought Jediah could do it, I would tell him to do it. But he can’t and I won’t.”
“Well,” Mrs. Barnett started. “I believe Jediah. He will do it, or we won’t grant him Liza’s hand in marriage.”
“The boy was boasting,” Daddy said, a stern edge creeping into his voice. “He was trying to impress the girl he loves. It would be cruel of you to deny them marriage simply because he spoke in haste.”
Her father leaned back in the rocking chair, keeping it still in a waiting position. His face took on an unapproachable look, his bushy eyebrows angling low over his dark brown eyes.
It was evident to Martha Jane that Daddy wasn’t going to divulge anything about Jediah’s training. He wasn’t about to cast shadows on his dead wife’s memory for her having had knowledge of a man’s work.
She remembered all the times she’d heard Daddy tell Jediah that he knew just enough to be dangerous and to leave it alone.
“Maybe,” he’d told Jediah, “we can hire a rainmaker to finish your training. But we’ve got to wait for the harvest money.”
The Barnetts took their leave in anger, and Martha Jane heard the sound of the truck engine fade into the distance. Daddy grabbed his worn, leather hat and shoved it on his head.
“Martha Jane, I’m going to the barn to find Jediah. Have supper ready when we get back.”
An hour later, they all sat at the small, wooden table eating the chicken and dumplings that had simmered on the stove while Martha Jane practiced. Jediah picked quietly at his food, his shoulders slumped.
“Sit up straight at the dinner table, Jediah,” Daddy said. “And quit sulking.”
“I can do it, Daddy. I know I can.”
“Maybe so, but we can’t chance it. Magic is a powerful force, and you’ve got to be able to contain it.” He split a buttermilk biscuit and spread fresh butter on each half. “Besides, you didn’t have any business airing our laundry to Liza. You didn’t tell her about Martha Jane, did you?”
Jediah glanced at Martha Jane. “No, sir.”
“Good.”
Martha Jane spoke up. “But I can call the wind, Daddy. Mama even said my training was complete.”
“I know,” Daddy said between bites. “But it won’t help us here. We need rain, not wind. And your brother’s not ready.”
That night, Martha Jane tried to get comfortable on her down bed. Her shoulder made it hard sometimes to find a restful position. A warm cross breeze blew softly through her room between the two open windows.
She heard Jediah’s door open and then a light footfall go past her own door. She slid out of bed and opened the door to peek into the hallway. Jediah was fully dressed and halfway out of the house.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Martha Jane was trying to whisper.
“I’m not going to lose Liza because Daddy doesn’t think I can do it. Now be quiet and go back to bed. I’ll be back by morning.” He turned quickly and eased the door shut.
Martha Jane didn’t know what to do except go back to bed. Her father might hit him if he discovered Jediah gone. She didn’t want to be responsible for that, so she said a silent prayer to help Jediah work his spells well.
Just before dawn, Martha Jane awakened to a change in the air. It was cooler, and the air had a little depth to it, like a fog rolling across the farm at sunrise.
Moments later, she heard the sound of fat raindrops hitting their tin roof. She loved the music that rain made on a tin roof, and this song was especially a wonderful and welcomed thing.
Now everything would be fine, Martha Jane thought, as she snuggled down under the covers. She envisioned Jediah’s now upcoming wedding. He would be so handsome in his Sunday suit. Martha Jane hoped for a husband like Jediah. Maybe one day she would find one who could love the girl trapped inside her body. Maybe . . .
Martha Jane startled awake as her door flung open and boun
ced loudly off the wall. Daddy stood in the doorway, his fists clenched.
“Where’s Jediah?” he asked, his mouth tight and his eyes darker than usual.
“I don’t know.”
“Fine. Then tell me where he went last night.”
Martha Jane wasn’t above a lie here and there, but she knew better than to try it now.
“He said he went to call the rain.”
“I knew it,” Daddy said. “That boy just bought himself a peck of trouble. And us, too.”
“What’s wrong?”
Daddy gestured toward the window. “Look outside.”
Martha Jane climbed out of bed and crossed the room to one of the tiny, frame windows. She couldn’t believe the damage that had been done in the extra hour she’d slept. The world outside seemed to consist only of rain. The clouds were rolling, the wind was howling, and the continuous sheets of driving water had made a river out of the dirt road. Even the high ground on the other side of the road was standing under water.
“Oh, no,” she said faintly. Martha Jane knew this was even worse for the crops than drought. The land was too dry to absorb this much water this fast. If it didn’t stop soon, it would kill the crops and some of the small livestock, too.
Daddy started toward the door. “I’m going to find him.”
“Can I come?”
He nodded. “Hurry up. I’ll wait in the truck.” He sighed heavily, pulled his jacket tighter, and rushed through both the house and porch doorways.
Martha Jane struggled to dress quickly. Daddy wouldn’t wait long. Once she wiggled into a yellow, cotton work dress, she was able to lace up her boots easily. She also rushed to the porch after donning her raincoat, only to stop abruptly. The rain was torrential, even scary, but Daddy had pulled close to the porch.
She made it to the truck without much trouble.
They were both silent on the drive. Martha Jane didn’t want to start a conversation when he was this angry.
Martha Jane could tell by the route that they were headed to the Barnetts’ house. Visibility was low with the water hiding the dirt roads. She could feel the truck’s tires struggle through the sloshing mud.
About halfway there, they reached the school, which, strangely enough, Martha Jane thought, was populated.
“This has to be where everybody is. They must be trying to figure out what to do. Maybe Jediah’s here,” Daddy said as he turned off the road. He parked, got out and ran around to help Martha Jane out of the cab. They hurried up the steps, Daddy making sure Martha Jane didn’t slip on the wet wood. They entered the main classroom, and stopped short.
The room was about half full, with a dozen of the most prominent families represented. Martha Jane took a half step back as everyone turned to see them.
Daddy shook off his hat. Martha Jane flipped the hood of her raincoat back and wiped her face.
Mrs. Barnett, always the first to criticize, spoke up.
“Victor, what has Jediah done? When is this rain going to stop? We’re going to be flooded out soon.”
Daddy stalked forward through most of the crowd to face Mrs. Barnett.
“How do you know this is Jediah’s doing?” Daddy asked.
Liza stepped out from behind her mother. Her dark hair was wetly plastered against her neck, and her violet eyes were wide with fear. She spoke with a slight shake to her voice.
“He knocked on my window this morning and said he was going to fix everything.” She gestured toward the door. “Now this.”
Daddy shifted his gaze from Liza back to Mrs. Barnett.
“I told you he wasn’t ready, yet you threatened him with one of the few things he loves, your daughter. This isn’t Jediah’s fault. It’s yours.”
A voice spoke up from the back. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. We need him to stop the rain.”
Daddy whipped his head around to find that person.
He spoke harshly to Mr. Fritz, the general store owner. “Don’t you think he’d have stopped it by now if he could? We can only wait, unless someone knows of a rainmaker nearby.”
Another voice spoke quickly. “You know there isn’t a rainmaker for a hundred miles. Jediah needs to do something.”
“What do you propose he do if he doesn’t know how? Would you have him make it worse?” Daddy’s voice was now a low growl.
Martha Jane shivered with a surge of fear. This crowd could ugly. Tempers were high, especially Daddy’s.
He was strong, but he wasn’t strong enough to take on everyone. And what would happen to Jediah when he finally showed up? Martha Jane hoped he would stay hidden until this mess was fixed. She also hoped Jediah was working on it. He was, after all, the only one nearby who had a chance of stopping the rain.
Martha Jane cringed when she heard a crashing sound behind her. She turned to see water and assorted debris now swirling into and around the room.
A heavy branch had flown into the glass, and the now broken window was giving avenue to the chaos outside.
Several of the men moved an oak bookcase in front of it.
The wind and rain . . . the wind . . .
Martha Jane realized that she knew what to do.
Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She started to speak but then stopped. Did she really want to fix this problem for these people? They would have her in an institution if it was their decision. They would never accept her as one of their own again.
Martha Jane also asked herself if she could really do it. Sure, she’d played with the wind before, but she’d never tested her skills to this degree. Would the magic grace her when she really needed it? Just because she called the wind didn’t mean it would appear.
She knew she had to try for Jediah’s sake. This was the one time Martha Jane could watch out for him, just as he’d watched out for her these last few years.
He fought daily with boys who called Martha Jane names like Humpy and Igora. He still drove her to school and picked her up so she wouldn’t have to walk with them.
The Barnetts certainly wouldn’t let Liza marry Jediah if their farm was allowed to flood out. And God knew how long the rest of the community would hold this against her family. Martha Jane still had to go to school in the falltime, and Daddy still had to trade with the local businessmen.
Martha Jane stepped over to Daddy and motioned his face down to hers. She whispered in his ear.
He looked at her with surprise. “Can you do that?”
“Mama taught me how, Daddy. I trust her.”
Daddy gave her a small smile. “All right, then. You do it.”
He spoke loudly to the crowd. “Martha Jane can fix it.”
Mrs. Barnett eyed Martha Jane harshly. “She’s not a rainmaker. She’s a girl.”
Daddy spoke sharply to Mrs. Barnett. “Who do you think taught Jediah what he knows? Annie was a rainmaker, taught by her father. She didn’t get a chance to finish Jediah’s training. That’s why I told you he can’t call the rain. He hadn’t finished his training when Annie died.”
“And Martha Jane is finished?”
“Yes, but not as a rainmaker.”
“Then what does she possibly have to offer this situation?”
Mrs. Barnett looked pointedly at Martha Jane and frowned.
Daddy looked to Martha Jane. “Answer the woman.”
“I can call the wind,” Martha Jane said clearly.
“And exactly how will that help us?”
“I can push the rain away with the wind.” Martha Jane took a breath. “But we must come to terms first.”
“Terms?”
“Yes, terms.” Martha Jane kept her voice strong.
She couldn’t afford to appear weak.
“What terms do you propose?” Mrs. Barnett was taking a tone.
“You must allow Jediah to marry Liza. He will make a fine husband. Then you must apologize to him.”
“Apologize? You think I’m going to apologize?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Martha Jane s
aid. “For not granting him the respect he deserves as the man your daughter loves.”
Mrs. Barnett didn’t speak. Martha Jane could see her weighing the cost against the gain, both personal and public.
“Fine,” she finally said through tight lips. “Fix this if you can, but I don’t know if you can. You may not be strong enough, what with your shoulder and all.”
The crowd gasped. While Jediah had fought against ridicule from other kids, no adult had actually said anything to Martha Jane’s face about her shoulder.
“It’s not about strength of body. It’s about strength of character. Right, Daddy?”
She looked up at him and waited. What if he said no?
He looked straight into Martha Jane’s eyes as he spoke. “I’m sure your mother taught you well.”
With a sigh of relief, Martha Jane went to the doorway and stood. It was truly an overwhelming force at work out there. Jediah might not know how to stop the rain, but he sure had called it.
The crowd was hushed as Martha Jane shed her coat and shoes. She needed to be as much a part of the storm as possible. She stepped into the weather frenzy, surprised to find that her fear was gone. Martha Jane could only surmise that she’d left it inside to rot with their anger.
She strode to the recess area where the other children played during free time. Since her illness, she could only watch from the doorway, but she remembered her own playtime well. She had been so keen to run, so unencumbered by physical restraint.
Martha Jane smiled at the memory. She closed her eyes and raised her arms to the dark and ominous sky. The water hit her face like pebbles thrown, and she winced. Martha Jane knew the pain was of no consequence, so she tried to ignore it.
The wind still howled and the clouds continued to darken. Martha Jane took a deep breath through her mouth and let it out slowly, trying to relax. She protected her eyes by keeping them mostly closed, but she peered out through a small slit.
Martha Jane couldn’t help but consider her own price for this effort. She was already an outcast, and this would solidify the division. The daughter of a now shadowed woman, Martha Jane would also be suspect for meddling in a man’s work, no matter how grateful everyone might be now.
“Martha Jane!” Daddy called from the schoolhouse, breaking her concentration. “Are you all right? Do you need help?”
Something Magic This Way Comes Page 22
