The Friendship Stones (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 1)

by Alan Black

  “Surely there is a man in these hills who would understand and keep your secret. It was not your fault.”

  Miss Harbowe shook her head, “I am not so pretty a man would overlook my ruination. But, wasn’t it my fault? It is not just my lost virginity. I did consent to let Trance Braunawall come courting. I wanted to see him. I wanted to go for a walk. I would have even let him kiss me. I thought I wanted him to kiss me. What kind of wife would I make if I have no better judgment than that? My job is not just to teach you your letters, but to teach you to think. That is why I should be fired from teaching.”

  LillieBeth said, “I promise that I will never tell another soul. You will never be fired because of me. I swear whatever happens; I would make sure you do not starve. We can both survive on squirrels and rabbits if we have to.”

  Miss Harbowe said, “I like squirrel and rabbit, but what would your mother and father say?”

  “I think, no, I know they would understand. But, even if they didn’t we could get a place of our own. We could be friends.”

  Miss Harbowe smiled. “We will just have to wait. Reverend James may not be as interested in me as you think. But, rather than wait, I would like to be friends now, if you would.”

  LillieBeth grinned. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I cannot think of a better friend to have.”

  “Not even Fletcher Hoffman?”

  “He will be a hard friend to love, but I will do it. You will be an easy friend because I already love you.”

  Miss Harbowe hugged LillieBeth. “Then we shall be good friends.” She looked seriously at LillieBeth. “But for now I am still your teacher and you must still call me Miss Harbowe. I cannot show favorites at school. I must treat all of my students the same.”

  “Mama would whip my backside if I dared call an adult by their given name.” LillieBeth giggled. “It would feel silly to call you anything other than Miss Harbowe.”

  “I know I am almost eight years older than you. It seems like a lot now, but over time, it will mean less. You can call me Susanne when you graduate high school, or earlier if I get fired and I have to turn to you for sustenance.”

  MONDAY – LATE AFTERNOON

  LillieBeth reined Ruth to a stop. She did not know how the mule would react to what she had planned. She hoped Ruth would not buck her off, sending her crashing down on her head in the road. She turned Ruth sideways, blocking the road.

  She slid the .22 rifle from the scabbard tied to the saddle. She had reloaded her bullets upon leaving school. She pulled the pump as quietly as she could, moving a cartridge from the cartridge tube into the chamber. She pushed the pump back to close the breech.

  She twisted sideways and stared down the road. She would not fire over Ruth’s head if she shot from this angle. It might startle the mule either way, having a rifle go off next to those big ears would not be pleasant for the mule. LillieBeth would not be happy with the results if Ruth was not happy.

  Ruth gave a little shiver and settled into a relaxed stance. LillieBeth stared at her target. She took a deep breath, let it out part way, snapped the gun to her shoulder and squeezed the trigger. Ruth ignored the little pop of the .22 caliber rifle. The rabbit dropped dead. A second quick shot brought down another rabbit before it could hop away.

  LillieBeth pulled the pump action to open the breech for safety. She put the rifle into the scabbard before sliding off the mule. She led the mule over to where she could pick up the two dead rabbits. A single bullet to each rabbit had killed them both. She knew the Bible warned against being prideful, none-the-less she was proud of her skill with the rifle.

  She clearly remembered her Sunday school scripture recitation from Proverbs 16:18: ‘Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall’. However, she needed something in her life to boost her sense of self-esteem. She was halfway between little girl and young woman. Every little accomplishment meant more to her than she could explain.

  In the beginning, she had shot only to keep food on the table for her and Mama. She had cried more than once after shooting a bunny, but she had to do it. Now she was pleased she could put food on the table without bringing needless pain to any of God’s creatures. If anything, she only shot what she and Mama needed for the day.

  She took the opportunity to shoot two rabbits. It was one rabbit for supper and one as a gift for Fletcher Hoffman. She gutted the rabbits and hung them from Ruth’s saddle. Just as she was about to climb back on the mule, she spotted something at the edge of the road.

  It was a small brown stone. It could have been the twin of the other stone Hoffman had thrown at her. The only difference was the white streak circling the stone from end to end instead of around the middle. The little stone was round as if it belonged in the flowing water of a creek bed instead of high up in the hills.

  She pocketed the stone. She would have to see if she could hand him this token of friendship without being pelted by it. She was almost at Hoffman’s lane, having long since passed by her home. It was a long ride coming straight from school, but it took less time than walking it had the day before.

  Try as she may, she could not spot any evidence of the tussle between her, Hoffman and the Braunawalls on the ground or the road near Hoffman’s gate. She was baffled, not by the lack of tracks, but more so by the feeling of time. She wondered how something occurring yesterday, could feel like it just happened moments before and at the same time, feel as if it was in the distant past.

  Off Ruth, her feet on the ground, the road was empty of all but the tiniest scuffmarks in the dirt. It had not rained and the red clay of the Ozark Mountains was hard-packed on the road. It was almost as hard as the rocks poking up through the road. The edge of the road, where Dangle had crawfished backwards away from Hoffman’s rifle barrel, provided little additional evidence.

  LillieBeth realized Miss Harbowe had been right. She would have no proof anything had ever happened between her and the Braunawalls. She would not even have a witness if Fletcher Hoffman had not been nearby to help her. Even the torn dress was not proof. She had torn her everyday dress on barbwire fences, loose nails, broken tree branches, and in one case, a gooseberry bush, swearing it had jumped out and grabbed her.

  She opened the gate and led Ruth onto Hoffman’s lane. She had no intention of riding up to his house, but she did not feel comfortable leaving her mule tied up in the road. She would just have to deal with Hoffman if he objected to her mule cropping a little grass on his lane. She tied Ruth to the longest lead she had, giving the mule plenty of rope to reach for the thick grass.

  She carried the extra rabbit up the lane, stopping again at the end to enjoy the view. She was here later today than yesterday. It was still a long time until dark, but the shadows had changed the view making the meadow look larger.

  Six young colts grazed in the meadow with the mares from yesterday. They were all strong looking, well-fed animals. The colts were just past their first year, dashing away at her appearance. They had the look of half-wild creatures, yet they each wore a halter. The mares looked at the colts as if amused by their antics, but soon dropped their heads to continue grazing.

  The house was just as clean and pristine as the day before. The lean-to was just as messy, yet no smoke curled up from the fire pit. The three-legged dog managed to push to its feet and hobble over to LillieBeth for an ear rubbing.

  She did not see Hoffman. She was not sure she would see him if he did not want to be seen.

  There was a pole sticking out from the roof of the lean-to. She tied the rabbit to the pole, stretching as high as she could reach. The dog sniffed, but did not look to have the inclination to jump so high. She was sure a young, four-footed dog would have the rabbit down as soon as her back was turned. This dog was not frisky any longer.

  “What is that?” Hoffman had snuck up on her again.

  “Silly,” she laughed. “You know it’s a rabbit.”

  “You shoot that rabbit on my property?” He held his rifle in his right hand, shaking
it for emphasis.

  “No, sir,” she answered. “I shot it a short piece back up the road. I suspect if I shot it on your property, you would hear it, right?”

  “Don’t you be questioning my hearing, missy. I hear fine. What are you doing hanging it up on my place?”

  “It is a gift, Mr. Hoffman. I know you can hunt for yourself. I just thought I would be friendly and bring it by.”

  “Friendly? There you go with that friendly again. I don’t need your friendly and I don’t need your charity.”

  Quicker than LillieBeth’s eyes could follow, he whipped out a knife and sliced the rabbit free from the lean-to roof.

  “Maybe this here old dog will eat this.” He tossed the rabbit into the weeds behind him. It was followed closely by the dog who chewed and gnawed at the carcass with more energy than it had shown for any previous activity.

  Hoffman said, “There. What do you think on that, Miss Hazkit?”

  LillieBeth smiled. It was wasteful throwing the whole rabbit to the dog. The fur would have been good come winter, to line gloves or socks. Now the fur would just scatter to the winds since the dog would not eat it. “I gave the rabbit to you as a present. Once I did, it was yours to do with what you wanted. If you needed it to feed your dog, then that is good enough for me.”

  “Blast it. I told you it weren’t my dog,” Hoffman said. He winced and shaded his eyes from the sun. “You done give me another headache. It’s you who don’t hear good. I told you not to be coming round here no more.”

  “I had to come around,” she said. “I need to thank you for helping me yesterday.”

  “Weren’t doin’ it to help you,” he spat chicory into the cold fire pit. “I haven’t been in a good dust up in a while and just needed the exercise.”

  “Well, thank you anyway,” she said. “I have something else for you.” She pulled the stone from her pocket and held it out to him.

  He snatched it from her with lightening speed. He may have aged, but age had not slowed him down.

  “You want me to throw another stone at you?” he asked with surprise in his voice. “I thought I whacked you hard enough the first time for you to get the idea I did not need no friends in my life.”

  “Yesterday, I gave you the stone back to show you what being your friend meant to me. You threw the stone away, just like you tried to throw my friendship away. Today I am giving you another stone whether you like it or not. We are going to be friends whether you like it or not, whether you are friendly or not.”

  Hoffman tossed the stone over his shoulder into the weeds. “I don’t need your stones, Miss Hazkit. I got me a switch just in case you came back all stubborn like.”

  He stretched, grabbing a thumb sized willow switch from the lean-to roof. As quick as water over a dam, he swung the switch, catching LillieBeth across her thigh. It flexed around her, smacking her on the fanny, exactly on the bruised spot from yesterday.

  She yelped and raced away.

  The dog barked a sympathetic yelp.

  Hoffman whooped a rebel yell and raced after her.

  LillieBeth hoped she could get to Ruth and get away before he caught her.

  MONDAY – LATER AFTERNOON

  She was sure he could have caught her anytime he wanted. He was close enough for the tip of his willow switch to flick across her backside, giving energy to her feet. He cackled a laugh each time he nipped at her backside. She fairly flew into Ruth’s saddle, practically fainting at the thought of getting switched.

  LillieBeth was stuck. She had reached Ruth in time, but true to her nature Ruth was not moving. There was more truth than myth about the stubbornness of a Missouri mule. LillieBeth gathered in the long lead. She kicked and prodded Ruth, trying to pull the mule’s head up from the fresh grass. Ruth was not moving.

  LillieBeth watched Hoffman with a careful eye, but once she climbed on Ruth, he quit swinging his switch. She could not get down without getting switched and she could not get Ruth to even head for the gate. She watched Hoffman walk by her, stretching his legs in long strides, covering ground quicker than a taller man could. He grabbed Ruth’s halter and yanked as he went by.

  Ruth followed him as if it had been her intention to go all along. When Hoffman opened the gate, Ruth trotted through. On her way past, Hoffman laid the switch across Ruth’s rump.

  “The both of you get on and I don’t need you comin’ back,” he said.

  Ruth continued up the road towards home as if she had not felt the switch.

  LillieBeth twisted around in the seat and waved at Hoffman. “I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Hoffman.”

  Other than a grunt, Fetcher Hoffman did not respond, turning he closed the gate behind him and disappeared into the trees.

  TUESDAY - MORNING

  Mama pointed her breakfast spoon at LillieBeth. “Listen here, young Miss Elizabeth O’Brien Hazkit, you have been tromping around here all morning and yesterday evening to boot. Something is gnawing at you. You said Mr. Hoffman was ornery, but didn’t hurt you, so something else is wrong. Spit it out or quit pouting about it.”

  LillieBeth wanted to talk to her mother. She did not like keeping secrets. She had promised her new friend Susanne Harbowe she would not tell anyone what had happened. Just as Mama said, it was eating at her.

  “Oh, Mama. I do want to tell you, but I cannot. I promised I would not tell anyone, but someone should know. Someone smarter than me and someone who can help.”

  “What did Mr. Hoffman do?”

  “This does not have anything to do with Fletcher Hoffman. But I cannot tell you who. She made me promise not to say.”

  Mama looked thoughtful. She took another spoonful of rabbit gravy over biscuits, chewing slowly, searching for an answer. “How about you tell me the what but not the who? You need to tell someone because you don’t do very well with secrets. And I can tell this one is chewing up your insides trying to get out. You trust me, right?”

  LillieBeth rushed around the table and hugged her mother, “Of course I trust you. You are the best mama ever. But I promised.”

  “You tell me what you can and I will see what we can make of it. Whatever it is, I won’t do anything about it without your say so. How’s that?”

  LillieBeth dragged her chair around next to her mother. She leaned her head on Mama’s shoulder. “Yesterday at school, I told a friend about getting my dress torn, and about, well, getting touched on my breasts and all. She told me Trance and Dangle Braunawall had raped her.”

  Mama’s spoon dropped, rattling on the tin plate, ringing hollow, echoing in the momentary silence. Mama’s breath whistled through clenched teeth.

  “LillieBeth, are you sure she wasn’t just trying to one-up you? You got touched, so she said she got raped?”

  LillieBeth shook her head. “She was crying, Mama. It was awful. She said she never told anyone because she didn’t think anyone would believe her, that some might even say she asked for it. Why would people think like that, Mama? I never asked Trance to rip my dress or touch me.”

  “Your friend is right. People don’t always think as right as you and me. I’ve heard of women and girls shunned out of their own homes, turned away from the family hearth for something forced on them. Now I am not going to even try to guess who your friend is, that is a secret you can keep, but we have to tell someone. Your father and the sheriff, I suppose.”

  “But we cannot prove the Braunawalls raped anyone. I could not prove they ripped my dress except Mr. Hoffman was there as a witness. I still cannot prove anything if he will not speak up. I am his friend, but he is not mine. Not yet at any rate.”

  “We have to be careful about telling Daddy. I have to think of a way and a when to do it so he doesn’t go off hunting those boys. Oh, they do need to get hunted, maybe just to be warned to stop, or maybe to be chased out of the mountains, but we don’t want your father getting in trouble with the law.”

  LillieBeth jutted out her chin in defiance. “I would rather put up with a hundred T
rance Braunawalls than hurt Daddy.”

  “I know you would, honey. We need to figure a way to take care of those boys without Daddy getting hurt. I tell you what; we keep this all to ourselves, even after Daddy get’s home on Saturday. Then come Sunday, you and I can tell Daddy and the sheriff at the same time right before church. That is the best we can do. After that, we just leave it to the menfolk to handle.”

  LillieBeth nodded.

  “Your schoolwork can wait for a bit this morning. I am going to take your Sunday dress and the shirt Mr. Hoffman took off Trance and go see Mrs. McMahon. She said I could borrow her sewing machine anytime. I may be able to trade the shirt with her for some material to be a closer match to your dress. I needed to let the bodice out and put a ruffle around the bottom anyway. You were just about outgrowing it before it was torn. I need to get you out of that everyday dress soon and add to the length. Why, your ankles are showing!”

  “Oh, that would be nice. It is kind of tight across my rump.”

  Mama laughed, “Honey, mules have rumps, men have butts and young ladies have bustles and backsides.”

  “Well, it is tight across there, whatever you call it. Can I go with you?”

  “I may be a while if I have to do a lot of sewing. Are you going to Mr. Hoffman’s today?”

  At LillieBeth’s nod, Mama continued, “You still have your Tuesday chores to do for Mrs. Bailey and you have to start on this week’s schoolwork. I am going to ride Ruth over to do my sewing, so you will have to walk to Mr. Hoffman’s and back. And, unless you harvest us another squirrel, opossum or badger, we are just eating a little poke salad for supper. I’d say you have a busy day ahead of you without sitting around at the neighbor’s doing nothing.”

  LillieBeth grabbed her pig-staff in one hand and her rifle in the other. Racing out of their cabin, her legs churned on the downhill slope. She slid to a stop at the mule corral. Ruth looked up at her expectantly. Rather than start on her chores for the old widow Bailey, she climbed into the corral and saddled Ruth. It would be a good surprise for Mama not to have to saddle Ruth for her ride to the neighbors.