Here’s the truth of the matter: When Amos was born, he could hear as good as you or me. What happened, they say, is that he got a sickness when he was still little, and it caused water to be in his head and make his brain swell, and because of it he turned deaf. Mama started suspecting something was wrong when Amos were about ten months old. She’d walk into her room where Amos laid in his crib, and he wouldn’t give any sign he known she was there until she stood right in front of him. She’d clap her hands from behind him, but he didn’t take no notice. Finally she and Daddy took him to the doctors over in Asheville, who said for sure Amos was deaf and wouldn’t ever hear again.
Some folks thought that because Amos didn’t hear and he didn’t talk, he must be stupid, and a lot of folks treated him like he was, though it was a far sight from the truth. I taught Amos to read when he was eight and I was seven, which weren’t as hard to do as you might think. I started him out with picture books that had just a few words. So there’d be a picture of a dog and the word “dog,” and Amos made the connection right quick. If there was a word that didn’t have a picture of it attached, I’d just find a real-life example and show it to him.
Later on, I taught him how to read lips in pretty much the same way, and soon he could understand just about anything a person would care to say to him as long as they spoke directly to his face. He couldn’t talk, but he could write. In fact, his handwriting was a sight prettier than mine. Mama said my writing looked like a chicken dipped in ink had walked across my paper.
Amos never went to school, for which I envied him greatly. The school in Indian Creek was a poor excuse for an institution of learning. Every year we got us some wet-behind-the-ears teacher straight out of teachers college who thought she was doing her Christian duty by coming up here and learning us hillbillies. I give them six months at most, and they tended not to last more than four. Partly it was because winter up here hit early and hard, sending flatlanders directly back to where they come from. The other part was that it appeared teachers college didn’t teach you how to handle boys like Lonnie Matthews and Curtis Shrew, who made it their business to send wet-behind-the-ears teachers out of town on a rail.
As soon as the new teacher left, old Mrs. Dreama Bullock took the wheel. She was about as deaf as Amos and had the learning of a brick. The only way to gain any real learning in Indian Creek was to get books from the library, which Amos and I did every week. His favorite books were those by Mr. Mark Twain, which was how he come to name his dogs Tom and Huck. Come to think of it, Amos looked like how I imagined Huck Finn to look, real boyish with a face full of merriment.
When Amos and me would get back to the house from the library, he’d head straight for the kitchen, where he’d get himself a glass of milk, sit down at the table, and commence to reading. He wouldn’t budge until Mama shooed him out so she could get supper fixed. He’d come looking for me then, and the two of us would play cards or dig in the yard for precious gems until it was time to eat. Sometimes we’d sit on Amos’s bed and draw maps leading to a buried treasure, and then we’d search around Amos’s room looking for something to bury out in the yard that we could dig up later. Amos might have had neat handwriting, but his room was a mess. You’d find everything in the world under his bed: birds’ nests, twigs, colored pencils, little smooth stones from up on Cane Creek, feathers—it was all there.
I reckoned Amos was about the best friend I had. I had other friends here and there, of course. Wilson Brown was a boy my age at school who I was good friends with. He was tall and skinny and a bit on the quiet side, but he was always up for an adventure and knew a good bit about rocks and plant life. We’d always gotten along just fine, but he and I didn’t have the closeness I had with Amos.
It’s true there weren’t nothing I wouldn’t do for my brother, and I did as much as I could. I believe this was also true for Tom and Huck, who stayed by Amos at all times and wouldn’t let no harm fall to him. We never worried about Amos roaming the mountain by himself, because Tom and Huck was always with him.
The wind begun to pick up some as we moved toward the peak of Katie’s Knob, always checking right and then left for what might lurk in the trees and behind the rocks that here and there jutted up from the dirt like craggy teeth. On an afternoon such as this, cool for July, a breeze blowing, we was out for adventure as much as medicinals. Though it had been some time since Indians had walked this trail, I still wished we might see some, or that maybe we’d cross paths with a runaway from Virginia or Tennessee who we could build a shelter for and bring food to.
Amos held up his hand, motioning for me to stop in my tracks. I didn’t see nothing in our path, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t nothing there. A bit of excitement tickled the back of my neck. Maybe Amos had noted a stranger off to the side of the trail, or maybe he had picked up the scent of a bear lumbering toward her den in the distance. I slid my hand into the pocket of my dungarees and felt of my knife in its red case, its metal edges cool against my fingers, and touched my thumbnail to the blade’s groove so that I could flick it open quick if I needed to attack.
The pounding of wings filled the air like a burst of thunder. “Good Lord have mercy!” I yelled. The bird that rose in our path was a sight, its wings spreading so wide as to reach practically from one side of the trail to the other. Its beak was as long as a pencil and curved downward, and feathers stood straight up atop its head like a headdress worn by a Sioux chieftain. I had never seen such a thing up on Katie’s Knob. I reckoned that bird must have gotten offtrack from its normal course, and I said as much to Amos when he turned to look at me, grinning from ear to ear.
He nodded, then turned and chased after the thing, Tom and Huck directly on his heels. I run behind them, shaking my head, wondering what on earth Amos would do if he happened to catch the bird. But the thought had barely made tracks across my mind before the bird got ahold of the air and headed for the sky and whatever distant land it called home.
We had reached the top of Katie’s Knob by this time, and Indian Creek spread out below us like a quilt. Amos fell to the ground, breathing hard from the chase. Tom and Huck licked at his face and neck, which made Amos shake with laughter.
I sat down beside him, my breath short and quick. There was no use in trying to talk with Amos rolling around on the ground with Tom and Huck. From down the mountain I could hear the bell Mama rang to bring me in when I’d gone out past the yard and she needed me home to help her. By the look of the sun, I’d say it was close to suppertime. Lately, Mama had me setting the table every night with a full complement of forks and spoons and knives so that I would know the proper thing to do should I find myself in high society.
As far as I was concerned, where I sat was high society enough, there with my brother and the birds and every wild thing.
chapter 4
Sunday afternoon, two weeks later, Caroline pulled the ledger book from the kitchen drawer after church, sat down at the table to study on it, and commenced to crowing with delight.
“I knew it! All I could think about at church was how maybe when that sow got big enough for Daddy to sell it to Chester Daniels, we’d have enough for tuition, and I was right!”
Caroline’s cheeks was flushed all red, and she had a big smile on her face. “I can’t hardly believe it!” she said, throwing her head back and grinning at the ceiling. “I am finally going to get out of this town.”
“Do us all a favor, honey,” my mama said from where she was standing at the sideboard, still dressed in her navy blue church dress with the pearl buttons, slicing a cold ham for dinner. “At least act like you’re a little bit sad at the thought of going.”
Caroline rose from her seat and walked over to Mama’s side. “You know I’m going to miss everyone, Mama,” she said, giving Mama a little squeeze around the shoulders. “But there is a world out there, and I aim to see it.”
“You aim to see all the handsome gentlemen,” I said. I had taken a seat on the floor where I coul
d lean my back against the cold woodstove and thumb through a right interesting book about rock collecting.
Caroline give me a tight smile. “What I am talking about is getting an education,” she said, trying to sound proper, as was her practice of late. “I do have a brain in my head, you know. It’s important for someone of my talents and abilities to get cultivated. I hear that Boone is filled with cultivated folks. And Asheville, too.”
“Bunch of jokers with their fingers sticking out when they drink their tea, I bet you,” I told her, sounding just like my daddy.
“Now how on earth would you know a thing about tea drinking, Dovey?” Caroline questioned me. “You still haven’t learned to wipe the milk off your lip after you take a swig.”
I did not find that comment worthy of reply.
A lot of folks wondered why Caroline was taking the bother of going off to college, seeing as she was likely to get married before too long, a girl as pretty as she was. They didn’t reckon on Caroline being the sort of girl whose head held a bigger picture than marrying as soon as she finished high school and moving in next door to her mama, which is what most of the girls in Indian Creek did. That weren’t my aim, personally, nor had it ever been Caroline’s. Us Coes were made of more interesting stuff than that.
My daddy sold that pig to Chester Daniels the following Monday, and then he rode over to Boone on Tuesday and paid down the money for Caroline to go to teachers college in the fall. By the time Wednesday morning rolled around, Coreen Lovett had cornered Mama in Caraway’s Dry Goods, where Mama was buying flour to make a pound cake, and asked her if it was true about Caroline going off to college. It didn’t take long for a piece of news to get around in Indian Creek, that was the honest truth.
“Folks in this town sure love to talk, don’t they?” Mama said when she got back from Caraway’s. “I reckon even Cypress Terrell and his mama have heard about Caroline’s going to school by now.”
Cypress Terrell was a little old feller without any teeth who lived with his mama up yonder on Cane Creek. You might have seen them once or twice a year, that’s how much they cared for the society of other folks.
Now when Parnell Caraway heard that my daddy had gone and done such a thing, he got in his automobile and drove on up the hill to our house, which ain’t easy to do in a fancy car. But Parnell was a determined man, and he would sacrifice his car’s good looks to make things turn out his way.
If it weren’t for Caroline, Parnell Caraway wouldn’t even consider stepping foot on our property. None of them Caraways thought us Coes was much good, but Parnell made an exception for Caroline, seeing as he was in love with her and all. He’d come by from time to time, just to see if Caroline had changed her mind about him. Sometimes Caroline was right friendly to Parnell; other times she didn’t give him the time of day. Frankly, I think Parnell right enjoyed the confusion. All the other girls in town let it be known they thought Parnell hung the moon, but Caroline kept things interesting.
When Tom and Huck heard the sound of the engine, they like to have gone crazy, barking their heads off and running to show Amos that we had some excitement coming our way. This weren’t the first time Parnell come to call, but usually Amos had Tom and Huck with him up on the mountain, so Parnell was a fairly unusual occurrence to their way of thinking.
Daddy stuck his head out from the barn, where he was fixing Luther McDowell’s tractor alternator, and gave Parnell a wave as he was getting out of the car. From the garden, I seen Parnell stride over to the barn, and him and Daddy had themselves a short chat. I was dying to know what they was talking about. That was always a problem with Daddy. He’d be friendly with about anybody who passed his way. I was concerned he might not know all there was to know about Parnell. Daddy might take a liking to Parnell without understanding Parnell’s true character or the fact that Parnell’s people thought they was so much above us.
Parnell shook Daddy’s hand and headed up to where I was tending Mama’s flower garden. He wore a real determined look on his face, which I hated to admit was handsomer than ever. I have never denied that Parnell was a good-looking boy, although I always thought his looks was ruined by a meanness in his eyes. He had shiny black hair he wore slicked back on his head all wavylike, and the most perfect nose I’d ever seen. Just as straight and fine as a nose could be. His eyes were of a deep dark brown, like a deer’s, and his skin was pale and creamy. Parnell had grown full into a man by that time and stood about six foot tall. He was a sight muscle-bound for a person who never done a day’s work in his life.
“Hey, Dovey,” he said, paying no mind to Amos, who had followed Tom and Huck out to the garden to see what all their fuss was about. For folks like Parnell, the fact of Amos being deaf made him invisible to their eyes, no need to give him a wave of the hand or a hello.
“What’s got you up here, Parnell?” I asked, standing and wiping the dirt from my hands.
“Well, howdy do to you, too. I come to have me a little talk with Caroline. She around the house?”
Parnell walked over to me like he aimed to pat me on the shoulder or be friendly in some manner, but I moved too quick for him to get close to me. Parnell weren’t going to get to Caroline by acting sweet to me, if that was what he was thinking. I had seen Parnell in his daddy’s store acting as though the world was his to buy and sell, and he was not going to get on my good side, no matter how hard he tried.
By this time, Tom and Huck was sniffing around at Parnell’s feet and trying to stick their noses in the crotch of his cream-colored pants, the way dogs are wont to do. Parnell give Huck a sharp kick and swatted Tom away with his hand. Amos started toward him with his hoe.
“I reckon I’d treat them dogs a little more neighborly if I was you,” I told Parnell. “Amos don’t take kindly to folks beating on his dogs.”
Parnell held up his hands in the air like he was surrendering and said real loud, “Sorry ’bout that, Amos. Them dogs of yours was making me nervous is all.”
That’s when Caroline come out to the porch, looking pretty as could be in a blue flowered dress and no shoes on her feet. “Mama wants to know what all the fuss is out here,” she said. “Oh, hey, Parnell. I thought I heard someone drive up. What’s got you up here on such a fine afternoon?”
Parnell’s expression softened like butter, and his voice got kind of gentle and quivery, not at all like his usual tone. “Caroline, I have to talk to you. It’s real important.”
Caroline sat down on the steps. “Why, whatever’s the matter, Parnell? You sick? You look a little peaked.”
Parnell glanced over at me and then lowered his voice. “I’m sick with the thought of you going away,” Parnell said, and I thought I might just get sick myself. “They say you’re leaving for teachers college come August, but I aim to change your mind.”
Parnell give me and Amos a look that meant for us to hightail it on out of there. I smiled the sweetest smile I had in me and started picking weeds out of the garden again. Amos went to tend to his dogs in the yard.
Parnell sat down on the step below Caroline, better to gaze at her famous eyes, I supposed. He took one of her hands in his own, which made Caroline raise an eyebrow, but she didn’t take back her hand the way I thought she should have.
“Caroline, stay in Indian Creek and I’ll make you the happiest girl alive, I swear to it,” Parnell said, his words all full of emotion. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, all the dresses in the world, rings on all your fingers, a car, whatever you say.”
This is where I thought Caroline ought to have said something about how she longed to see the world and meet upstanding young gentlemen, and had no interest in staying in Indian Creek. Instead, what she said was, “Why, I don’t even know how to drive, Parnell. What do I need a car for?”
“You’re missing my point, Caroline,” Parnell said, starting to sound the littlest bit irritated. “What I’m saying is, marry me. I’ll take care of your folks. I’ll even send Amos to one of them special schools for
deaf children.”
“Now wait one hellfire minute, Parnell Caraway!” I interrupted from where I stood in the garden. “You ain’t sending Amos nowhere!”
“Dovey!” Caroline called in a firm voice. “Let me take care of this!”
“A girl such as yourself shouldn’t be using language like that,” Parnell added, sounding peevish.
“Damnation and hell!” I replied. “Why don’t you take your sorry self back to your daddy’s store?”
Caroline stood up. “Now both of you, hush! Dovey, go on inside now so I can talk to Parnell.”
I let the screen door slam behind me so to show them I was none too pleased about being sent away like I was some little child. Then I went and sat by the open window in the parlor room, where I could hear every word that was said between the two of them.
“What do you say, Caroline?” Parnell asked. “Will you marry me? I promise to take real good care of you and your family.”
Caroline was quiet for a moment, collecting her words. Here’s where she’s going to tell him about getting some culture and having new experiences, I thought. Here’s where she’s going to remind Parnell he don’t mean a thing to her. I smiled to myself and waited for the blow to fall.
But, “I’m awful flattered, Parnell, truly I am,” is what she said, and I had to keep myself from shouting out. “But this proposal, well, it come out of nowhere. We ain’t even been courting.”
“Shoot, we’ve known each other since we was little children,” Parnell protested. “At least promise me you’ll think on the matter. That’s all I ask. Let me come call on you in a regular way. Will you at least do that?”
“I’ll have to ask Daddy. But even if he says yes, and I don’t know that he will, it don’t mean I’m going to marry you.”
“Just give me a chance, is all I ask. I reckon you’ll see things my way come August.”
Dovey Coe Page 2
