by Caryl McAdoo
“These are the Parker sisters, Reverend. The ones I was telling you about. Lucy, Servilia, and Melody.”
First in line, Lucy—who he guessed to be the oldest—held the child he'd noticed during the service and offered her hand. Accepting it, he pumped it only once, covering with his other. The lady gave a firm shake.
She had a strong grip and calloused palm. Shame one so lovely had to work so hard. He smiled extra big at the little girl.
Pointing at his chest, he moved his fingers and wrist and spelled out his name then touched the youngster's arm and looked to her mother, questioning with his brows.
“She's Harmony Joy.”
What a lovely name. His mother would have loved it. He returned his attention to the child, pointed at her, then spelled out her name. She rewarded him with an even bigger grin, grabbed his hand, and pulled it to her lips.
The wee girl kissed it then launched herself from her mother's arms into his.
Lucy had never seen her daughter take to any man. Most times, didn't want anything to do with any of them. She extended her arms toward her and tried to get her back. “Come on, silly girl.”
But Harmony wouldn't have it. “Uhnn.” She almost growled, shaking her head no with her eyebrows hooding those beautiful baby blues.
Though she hated insolence, Lucy wasn't about to swat her baby's bottom with so many people still milling around. The majority of townsfolk acted as if the baby might break like some kind of porcelain doll.
Most treated her as though she could do no wrong . . . just because she'd been born deaf.
But with the child, she bore the responsibility to train her daughter to be civil. Instead of ignoring the bad behavior, she moved around and caught her sweetheart's eye.
Harmony looked, gazed into hers for a bit, then softened her glare and laid her head in the crook of the man's neck. Lucy got a solid hold around her trunk and lifted her baby back into her arms.
“I'm sorry for her acting out like that, Reverend. She's normally better behaved.”
The man pulled a pen and paper from his coat pocket, scribbled a bit, then held the little pad out. “Can you bring her to the school?”
“When?”
He wrote. “Tomorrow.”
Preacher spoke up. “It's at the Old Simpson's place. Zeke's uncle has given him the house, barn, and a hundred acres.”
“I see.” She nodded and smiled at Preacher then Zeke. “What time?”
He shrugged, held up eight fingers, waved that off, then spread them again, that time, with four digits up on one hand and five on the other.
“Nine would be better. I can get my sisters lined out, then I'll bring Melody.”
The wagon disappeared around the corner. Two hours of sitting the hard seat couldn't be too high a price to pay for her sister. And never mind the dollar for the teacher either—nothing in the long run if her niece learned to talk with her hands.
What a glorious thing that would be! So wonderful and worth any amount.
It thrilled Melody that baby girl sat by her mama on her way to school for the first time. She hated it, too, though . . . She put that thought away. The man barely spoke to her, hardly noticed her at all.
Seemed he only had eyes for mother and daughter. But that couldn't be a bad thing. Lucy was the oldest and needed a father for the baby.
A chuckle escaped. Never in all her born days had she seen a child react to a stranger the way Harmony responded to the Reverend.
“You haven't hit a lick all morning, Mel! Leaning on that hoe, staring off into the blue yonder. Now stop your daydreaming and put that thing to chopping.”
She turned toward her sister. “Well . . . from my perspective, sure seems to me that you're the malingerer twixt the two of us.”
Servilia pursed her lips, tipped her nose into the air, and twisted her head in the most haughty of expressions in at least three counties. About turned Melody's stomach. Would have if she hadn't been seeing it her whole life.
Why her sister insisted on being so hard to get along with proved a mystery she might never understand.
“Then you best change your position for a new view, little sister. You've never carried your share of the load around here. You and Harmony are two peas in a pod, except now she's robbing Papa's cigar box.”
“Servilia!”
“And for what? That child can't learn how to read or talk with her hands. It's a bunch of nonsense. Wasting time and money on a school for a deaf, dumb mute.”
Melody dropped her hoe, ran straight through the three rows of cotton that separated her from the tormentor and knocked her to the ground.
“Take it back! Harmony is not dumb! Take it back now or I'll . . .” She raised her fist.
“Or what? Get off of me if you don't want to get your caboose whipped. If you hadn't killed Mama, then maybe she could've taught you some manners. You're nothing but a hot-headed, spoiled—”
It felt so good to land a fist right on her hateful sister's lying lips. If she finished her thought, it got lost in the dirt. Claws dug into her arm, and she rolled, locking her feet around Servilia, she fought to stay on top.
Her sister had a few inches height on her, but she benefited from extra weight and used it against the verbal bully.
She grabbed the hand digging into her arm and yanked it away, ripping her sleeve. Before she could pin it down, her sister knocked off her bonnet and snatched a handful of her hair.
“Ow!”
Unlike most of the times she and Servilia fought over the years, no one jumped into the mix to pull the bully off her. Her sister bucked and sent Melody into the cotton.
Scrambling to her feet, she gasped for air and backed away from her antagonist. Hands on her knees, she gulped hot air and glared at her nasty sibling who did the same. Finally, she stood straight and stiffened her back.
“Why do you have to be so mean? Take it back. You know Harmony is not dumb.”
Again with the pursed lips smirk. How Melody hated the expression. Why did she make it so hard to love her? It took everything in her not to hate.
“Wake up. She is so! All the little brat does is grunt like a pig.”
Round two didn't last as long, but Melody figured she gave better than she got.
“You.” Servilia sucked another breath. “Are going to be in so—” Another gasp. “Much trouble when Lucy gets home.”
Until she had breath to spare, Melody didn't answer. “You started it. You know how she feels about you calling that precious baby ugly names.”
“Me? Oh, no, not me. You were lollygagging, and I'm the oldest, so that means I'm in charge.”
“Lucy didn't say anything about you being in charge.”
“Whatever, chubby. Get back to work.” Servilia tilted her chin toward the sky. “Or do you need another whipping?”
Oh, man. She just stuck her snout out, begging to get smacked again.
But another round wouldn't settle anything, never did. From her earliest memories, Melody had been fussing and fighting with Vili, mostly in self-defense, whether physical or verbal. Her name should be Villain!
“You first, wicked witch.”
“Me first what?”
“You get to chopping. I'm not turning my back on you.”
“Fine, fat brat.”
From the first, Lucy noticed tale tell signs there'd been another fight. Would those two ever learn? She refrained from saying anything until after supper, but once the last dish found its way into the cupboard, she faced her youngest sister.
“Melody, would you help Harmony with her lessons? I need a word with Vili.”
Her baby sister scooped up her darling daughter, collected her workbook, and headed toward the stairs. After the last footfall melted above and the bedroom's door closed, Lucy faced Servilia and nodded toward her chair.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
She slipped into her place and gripped the table's edge. “Regarding? Am I supposed to read your mind,
Lucinda?”
“The fight.”
“Oh. That. She started it, I finished it, and that's all there is. She's such a spoiled brat, and you're partially responsible. You have to admit it. Should have let Auntie have her like Papa wanted.”
“Don't start that. Aunt Ethel offered to take Melody on a whim, but she didn't really want her. I did. Mercy sakes, she's our sister! Scripture says if you don't take care of your own, you're worse than an infidel.”
“She does not belong to me!”
“That's neither here nor there. You're almost twenty years old and fighting like a gutter snipe! And with your baby sister, no less.”
“Why aren't you scolding her, too? She's full grown—or would be if you hadn't of babied her all these years. You always take her part, even when Papa was alive. If he was still here, he'd set you both straight. It isn't easy living with any of you. My opinion never counts.”
Oh, there it was. They'd been fussing over Harmony going to school.
“Vili, our father loved my daughter and would not have begrudged her the money to learn to sign. Don't you realize it means communication for her? She'll be able to share her thoughts. It'll be almost like speaking, like a miracle.”
A snort sounded—all the response she got. That and her sister's haughty expression—the one she and Melody hated.
“I want your word that next week when I take her back, you'll be good and avoid a fight. No matter what.”
Servilia shrugged. “I can't promise anything. If that fat pig attacks me like she did today, she'll get worse than what she gives. I suggest you speak to her.”
Staring at her sister, Lucy tried to figure out how to reach her, get through that thick skull of hers. She prayed for God to soften that hard heart. Fact of the matter though, she wanted to be the one to take her baby to school.
Not that seeing the new school's teacher was paramount in anyway . . . but still, he'd become her hero.
“Fine then.” Best just to forget what she wanted. Between the younger's mouth and the elder’s hatefulness . . . she couldn't chance it. “Melody can take her.”
“What? No! What's fair about that? She has chores every day, and you're going to let her skip out of them? We're about finished with the chopping, but another rain, and it'll have to be done all over again. You can't do that.”
“I'll do her part and mine. Zeke will only allow Harmony to come one day a week. His other students are all so much older. But she is going. Period. Melody will take her. That's settled. So you better just make the best of it, or you might just get that spanking Papa never gave you.”
“Humph. You better never try.”
Tilting her chin toward her chest, she glared and held her finger up. “Listen to me good. Our sister is not fat, and if you call your sister a pig again, I'll wash your mouth out with lye soap.”
“So she told on me. Little brat.” Servilia snickered. “Pleasantly plump then. But you're right, she isn't a swine any more than I'm a wicked witch. Yes! That's what she called me! But you'll probably never mention that to her, will you? No. Of course not. I'm supposed to take whatever the princess dishes out and keep my mouth shut. Isn't that right?”
Though Lucy couldn't detect a drop of civility, at least the middle sister admitted to what needed to be said. Short of taking Papa's strap to her, nothing could change that sharp tone of hers—except God. He could do anything.
Things would have been so different if not for that horrible war.
Losing her father and husband only six months after they rode off. Stupid men. All worried the fighting would be over before they had a chance to kill themselves a Yankee. But they were the ones got killed and never came home.
“What's he like? Did you spend all day with him? Did he tell you to call him Zeke?”
Replaying the rapid questioning, Lucy focused on what her sister just rattled off.
“Yes. Well, he wrote it out. And no, I hardly had any time with him. He already has over a dozen students, and put me to work right away. He gave Harmony a book with lots of pictures and showed me exactly what he wanted her to do.”
“So we're paying his wage, but you're doing the teaching? That's perfectly logical. Humph.” Her sister rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and shook her head.
“So . . . what's your impression of the man himself? And why is Harmony only allowed on Mondays? Our money isn't any good the rest of the week? At least that will only be four dollars a month instead of twenty, right?”
Her sister's tone changed.
Obviously all the girl pecked for then, all she truly wanted, was shot and powder for her gossip gun. In total opposition to scripture, Servilia loved bearing tales, giving and receiving the latest news—forget how far from any semblance of truth it became.
Facts got batted and speculation took to the air toward left field.
Mercy, Lord.
“Best I can tell, the reverend is a good, kindly man.”
“So . . . was he sparking you any?”
“Oh, you're impossible sometimes. He was much too busy for any such foolishness.”
“But you would have welcomed it, wouldn't you?”
“I can't imagine any woman who wouldn't be pleased to have him come courting.” Lucy stared at the floor. “Why do you ask?”
Chapter Three
T
he next Monday morning broke like every other day since creation, but that one proved special.
Melody and her most favorite little girl in the whole wide world were off on the second day of the baby's grand adventure in learning.
No never mind it had cost an hour of sweet slumber to get on the road in time.
Bothered her some that Zeke failed to attend church services the day before. Even with Preacher's excuse for him spreading the word about his school at the Boston Church, she'd rather he'd been there.
Selfish reasons, of course. Perhaps it could have been for the best. The busybodies nosed around her not being able to keep their eyes off him already, according to her mean sister.
But!
That day joined all the others in the past and couldn't be changed or ever lived again. No reason to fret over it.
Besides, she'd be spending the whole day with the handsome reverend on that glorious day.
Getting to take Monday off from the chores in the cotton field to carry Harmony to school thrilled her heart. She glanced over at her niece who studied her workbook then smiled.
What was a sore hand and a few hairs pulled over getting to spend time with the man who had such kind eyes? Besides, she loved how much Servilia plainly hated her going.
If Lucy was right though, the headmaster would only be in and out while Melody worked with baby girl. That would still be better than not seeing him at all for another whole week.
And she'd been practicing the sign language alphabet with her niece all week, secretly hoping to impress him. Though of course, she needed to learn it to converse.
A tug on her sleeve pulled her from her cogitations. She glanced at the mules then at her niece. “What is it, sugar?”
First touching her chest, Harmony pointed at Melody then tapped her heart.
“I love you, too.” She repeated the signs.
Almost quicker than she could follow, the four-year-old worked her fingers, signing the alphabet up to 'M' then closed her eyes and scrunched her shoulders.
Melody waited then when the baby looked up and shook her head, she made the 'M' then let her thumb peek out between her ring and middle fingers to make the 'N.'
The child grinned, bobbing her head, and copied the gesture.
“Best study some more.” Melody tapped the workbook.
Twice more, the little student tried and failed to reach 'Z' then right before the old Simpson place turn-off, she finally made it all the way through. Hugs and kisses followed.
An older boy walked out with Zeke on his heels just as Melody reined the mules to a stop.
Baby girl climbed down and ran to
the man, throwing herself into his arms at the last step. He lifted and twirled her around, then hugged her tight before setting her feet gently to the ground again.
The little darling immediately went to saying her letters with her hands. Once she finished, Zeke knelt and looked her right in the eyes, nodding with a smile that practically carved his face in two.
Then he hugged her some more.
“Oh, Lord! Forgive me for being jealous.” Melody prayed under her breath. But apparently, she could only do one thing, and it would surely break her heart.
How it thrilled Zeke that the youngest of the three sisters had brought his smallest student to school that fine day. Shame the child's mother couldn't have come, too, but he'd heard the whispers about the fight last week.
Made him wonder if little Harmony would even come back, but that question had been answered.
With the two new boys, he didn't have an extra minute to spend with baby girl, but he stole away what time he could here and there throughout the morning to check on her.
Praise God, He made a way for Zeke to spend half his dinner with the aunt and niece.
How could anyone not adore the little girl? He'd never been made over so much in all his born days.
Could having a daughter of his own be any better?
If only his mother hadn't have taken sick . . . but then, he didn't have an extra room with all the boys who'd ended up staying full time with him.
That afternoon, once the mules had been hooked back up and both ladies were set to leave, Melody's eyes twinkled. Her incessant smile brightened the broad daylight.
“We'd love for you to come to supper Sunday next. Our place isn't far from the church.”
Pulling his pad from his pocket, he wrote out, “Don't want to be a bother.”
“No bother at all.” She almost touched her shoulders to her ears, flashing her hug smile, eyes sparkling as though she could barely contain her excitement over the invitation.
Without her gusto, he shrugged then nodded.
“Good. It's settled then. See you Sunday.” She extended her hand, and he took it.
