by Alan Black
Afterward she ran across the road. Mrs. Bailey usually greeted her from the porch if it was late enough in the day, but the woman did not appear. LillieBeth started her chores with a willingness shared by the goats, already lining up to for milking. It was almost half past seven and their udders were full, aching for milking and relief.
LillieBeth and old widow Bailey knew it was best to milk the goats at the same time every day, but that was not always easy to do. She tried to be there by seven every morning, except on Sundays and Mondays when she had church and the long ride to school. Mrs. Bailey always managed milking and other chores in the evenings.
After milking, feeding and cleaning up after the goats, LillieBeth went to let the pigs out of their pen to scrounge in the woods for acorns and roots. She was glad she got the letting out duties rather than the evening chore of trying to chase the pigs back into the pen.
She stopped at the fence to the pigpen and froze. Her anger rose. She almost grabbed her pig-staff and jumped into the pen. She stopped and turned her back. The old boar had mounted a young sow. The sight had startled her, but she let out a ragged sigh, opened the pen gate and walked away.
A few days ago, she would have stood and watched with interest, as all things related to animal husbandry fascinated her. The variety and differences in God’s creatures always amazed her. Since God had given man dominion over the creatures of the Earth way back in Genesis, how could she do less than learn to care for them? Today she could not watch. It did not make sense, but she did not want to see.
She knew better than to get angry at such a thing. They were pigs, not people. The sow must have gone into heat or the old boar would have left her alone. It was what pigs did. It was what the goats did. It was what the cattle did. But the sight had startled her into thinking about the Braunawalls.
Going into heat was the sow’s way of expressing her willingness to be mounted. The Braunawalls did not take the time to court and marry a woman, nor did they wait for a woman to express her willingness. They just took.
Growing up in the Ozark Mountains, meant LillieBeth knew about animals and their ways. She knew their coming together was what brought shoats, kids and calves. She knew Daddy and Mama loved each other and had come together to bring her into the world. That was what marriage was for with humans. That was right, proper and good. What the Braunawalls had done to Miss Harbowe and tried to do to her, was not right, proper, or good, not for animals or humans!
She worked through her chores, her mind jumping between her work and the Braunawalls. It was hard to stay focused on her chores, but her duties were not as mind-taxing as her schoolwork would be. She finished quickly, running back to check on the pigpen. It was empty. The old boar had finished his business. He and the sow had wandered into the woods without her chasing them.
LillieBeth went to the back porch, knocking on the door, eager for a new task and eager to be done. Mama said that was the way of youngsters, always of two minds.
“Hello, LillieBeth. Are you done for the day?” Mrs. Bailey asked upon opening the door.
“Yes, ma’am, unless you have something else you need me to do.”
“No, not today. Is your father or mother home?”
“No, ma’am. Daddy left for work on Sunday evening. Mama went over to the McMahon’s for a bit. Is there something I can do or can I give a message to Mama?”
Mrs. Bailey shook her head, “No. Well…yes.” The woman shook her head again. “It ain’t right to give bad news to a child, but I have to.”
LillieBeth bristled at being called a child, but held her tongue. She may not be a child anymore, but Mrs. Bailey was an adult and it was bad manners for a youngster of any age to sass their elders.
She said, “I guess you could just tell me what you need to and I will tell Mama as soon as she comes home.”
Old widow Bailey sat on the edge of the porch. She patted the edge next to her for LillieBeth to sit. Mrs. Bailey said, “Rail Howerbach rode by awhile ago. You was down by the pigpen, so I doubt you seen him. He brought me a letter from my son. His wife and my grandchildren have took sick.”
“Oh, I hope it is not anything serious.” LillieBeth was genuinely concerned. The world’s recent influenza epidemic had not hurt the Ozark Mountains, but everyone knew of the millions who had died from it.
“It is not serious. They have a rash on their legs and stomach and the doctor wants them to move away from the lake water. Thank the Lord it is not the flu.” Mrs. Bailey clasped her hands together and looked skyward, as Baptists were wont to do when giving thanks to God. It was just like Catholics crossed themselves when giving thanks. The Methodists, on the other hand, did not feel the need to do anything special when thanking God.
Mrs. Bailey said, “But I do have to go down to their place on Lake Taneycomo and help them. And I need to leave today, as soon as I can get situated and saddled.”
“Of course,” LillieBeth nodded. It was what family did.
“I will need you to look after my place doing both the morning and evening chores until I can get back. Can you do that?”
“Yes, ma’am. It will be my pleasure to help.”
“Child, you are a dream. I will be paying you double what I normally do.”
“Oh, that is not needed. You have family trouble and I would not think of taking advantage of you in your time of need.”
“No. It is only right,” Mrs. Bailey said. “You and your family can use the goat milk or feed it to the pigs. I won’t be back until the end of the month and it will spoil for sure before then.”
LillieBeth said, “I will surely keep track of what we use, so you can write it down in your book.”
“No. You just use what you want. You take the chicken eggs, too. They won’t do me any good. You feel free to give them to the pigs if you can’t eat that many.”
“Yes, ma’am.” LillieBeth was surprised at such riches. Old widow Bailey must be really worried about her son to be giving away free eggs and milk. Mama had made a fried egg for her and one for Daddy for breakfast last Christmas. It had been so good; she had not wanted to wait until next Christmas to get another. Now she might not have to wait.
LillieBeth decided to keep track of everything she took home. Old widow Bailey seldom changed her mind about things, but it might be a safe thing to do.
She said, “I will watch after the place as best I can. You take care of your family and don’t worry about us.”
Mrs. Bailey shook her head. “That is exactly what I am worried about. I am sorry, but I do have to take care of my family first. The doctor came by my son’s place, told him he had to move his family back from the lake water. They have nowhere else to go but here.”
LillieBeth grinned. “That will be nice for you having your family nearby.”
“You don’t understand, child. My house isn’t big enough for me and my son’s family. I have to ask your father to move your family out by the end of the month.”
LillieBeth was puzzled. “Move? But it is our home. Where would we move to?”
Mrs. Bailey shook her head. “I do not know. I am sorry. Please tell your father and mother I am sorry. I will give them back the rent your father already paid for next month. Now, I don’t really have the cash anymore. I did have to spend it already, but I will get it. I promise.”
“But we already planted our garden,” LillieBeth protested.
“That can’t be helped. I am sorry, but you have until the end of the month to move. That is about ten days. You tell your father to come see me and we will work out something on about what I will owe you. I am sorry, but I have to go now or I won’t get horse to buggy and get to my son’s place before dark.”
LillieBeth sat on the porch after Mrs. Bailey rushed back into the house. The Hazkit’s little cabin was a nice home and they had all done a lot of work to make it better, but old widow Bailey owned it. It made her angry their landlord would just kick them out. There was not much time to find another place before they had to
leave this one. Of course, the weather had warmed up, so they could sleep out for awhile.
Daddy and Mama would know what to do. She did all she knew how to do. LillieBeth had been a Methodist for as long as she could remember. She did what she was most familiar with; she just said a prayer and went back to work.
She had collected a full bucket of goat milk and she had found half a dozen chicken eggs this morning. They were hers to take. She let out a sigh and left them sit for now. As wrong as it felt for old widow Bailey to make them leave their home, it would be just as wrong not to help the woman in her time of need. It had not been her fault that her son’s family had become ill.
She headed to the shed behind the house, dropping her pig-staff and rifle next to the pen, and with a handful of grain, she convinced the horse to let her settle it into the buggy traces. She grabbed a handful of leaves from a nearby oak tree and wiped the dust from the seat. The horse did not appear to be too happy about leaving a comfortable stall with easy to reach hay, but it followed LillieBeth without complaint as she led it to Mrs. Bailey’s back door.
She knocked on the door.
When she finally answered the knock, Mrs. Bailey stood flabbergasted. “Why, I don’t, I…” Words seemed to fail her.
LillieBeth said, “Can I help you carry anything to the buggy?”
Mrs. Bailey picked up one small carpetbag and shook her head. “I have everything I need in here.”
“You have a nice trip then.” LillieBeth made a pouch from the hem of her skirt, picking up the eggs and carried the bucket of milk up the hill to her kitchen, balancing the load with her pig-staff and rifle. There was not much to do with the food, putting them on the kitchen counter was all she could do, along with hanging the rifle on the wall where it belonged.
She sat on her bed and cried. She loved this little cabin. Daddy had re-chinked the logs, stopping all of the drafts, making it warm in the winter. Opening all of the doors in the summer made for a cross breeze cooling them in the summer. It was true she slept under the stairs, but since Daddy and Mama had their bedroom in the lean-to, it was as if she had a big room all to herself.
She pulled her box from under her bed. She had her Sunday school recitation cards in the box. They were bundled together, tied with a string. She wanted to read them looking for a message, a scripture, a promise from God that He would take care of everything. She knew He would, but it was hard. She was trying to be a good Christian, but the harder she tried the more things went wrong.
She wanted to read the cards, but did not. Her eyes were tired of crying and she realized she did not want to read the cards or begin her schoolwork. She wanted to be gone from this place. It had been her home, but Mrs. Bailey was taking that away from her.
She looked around at the cabin, knowing it was not theirs to keep, knowing the garden out back, lovingly planted, carefully weeded, skillfully irrigated, and almost rock free by their strong backs, was being taken from them. The garden would be taken before any of their labor brought forth fruit.
There were a lot of things in this cabin belonging to Daddy and Mama. There was the table and chairs. They had the pictures of her grandparents over the fireplace. They had a half dozen good, sturdy tin plates with factory made forks and spoons to match. They had tin cups, buckets, ropes, tools, blankets and pillows. They had two good mules with a cart and a saddle for each of them.
Daddy had his work clothes, a fancy coat and tie for church and his Army uniform. His and LillieBeth’s .22 rifle hung over the fireplace mantle, he kept his 12 gauge double barrel shotgun in his bedroom and he had the .45 caliber pistol he wore to work every day.
Mama had two everyday dresses, a grey one for summer and a blue one for winter, plus a real pretty green one she used as a good Sunday dress. Mama had a set of brushes and combs for her hair and a pretty blue jar she kept next to her bed for fresh flowers and such. She also had a box where she kept thread, needles and pins for sewing, with a small bag of extra buttons collected over the years.
LillieBeth had two dresses of her own. She had a doll she got for Christmas a few years ago. She was too old to play with it, but it was still hers. She had a harmonica, even though she could not play it well, it was hers. They were plagued with riches. They had more things than they could carry to the mule cart in one trip.
Most of all, they had each other and the hands God gave them to work with. She had friends at school and at church. She had a new friend in Susanne Harbowe and a new friend in Fletcher Hoffman. They had good neighbors. Old widow Bailey was a good neighbor. Making the Hazkits move did not change that. Mama was, even now, using a real sewing machine to fix her dress, borrowing the time on the machine from neighbors.
With all of this, why was she upset about having to leave the cabin? LillieBeth did not know. It was enough of a puzzle to leave until Mama came home. She slipped her most recent scripture card from the bundle, slipping it into her pocket to keep it safe, yet accessible. She pushed her box of possessions back under the bed.
She picked up a small bundle of herbs Mama had made for her to share with Mr. Hoffman. She grabbed Daddy’s rifle off the wall, make sure the breech was empty, added fresh cartridges to ensure it was fully loaded and started the long walk to Fletcher Hoffman’s place.
It was still a pleasant day and a long way before noon.
She read and recited the scripture over and over again, speaking it out loud, knowing it would stick in her head better that way, thinking of each word, studying on the meaning of each word, studying each phrase and each combined meaning, working to insert the words into her mind and her heart, locking her mind closed around the words and opening her heart to the meaning.
She saw squirrels in the trees to shoot for supper but let them be. She felt the sun on her face, but she ignored its warmth. She heard the rustle of an opossum waddling through the trees, but passed it by. She smelled spring blossoming around her, but did not stop to touch the flowers. She gave her mind over to her recitation and let her feet do her walking.
She could recite her Sunday school scripture forwards and backwards before she reached Hoffman’s lane. She put the card in her pocket and began searching the ground. She needed another small stone. She would not quit bringing friendship stones to Fletcher Marlowe Hoffman until he quit throwing them away.
It took some searching, but she found a stone she liked. It was an egg-shaped stone made of dark brown jasper with a white stripe. This stripe ran in a diagonal course around the stone. She puzzled over the shape and the stripe. How could such a smooth, round stone be found this high up the mountain? There was nothing to wear away a rock to a round shape. And it lay next to a rough chunk of broken granite. She would have to ask Miss Harbowe how this happened and what would cause a brown rock to get a white stripe.
The gate at Hoffman’s lane was wired shut.
TUESDAY - AFTERNOON
It was a clear indication visitors were not welcome. Adding a wired-shut gate to three ‘No Trespassing’ signs meant Hoffman did not want company coming to call. LillieBeth knew she was on a mission. She had also told him yesterday she would be back, so he had to be expecting her. She wondered whom he was trying to keep out because a few silly signs and a short piece of wire were not going to stop her.
LillieBeth was already having a bad day. Her thoughts were in a jumble. One moment she was worried about Miss Harbowe’s rape. The next moment brought confusion and sadness over the sudden loss of their home. The attack on her by the Braunawalls was never far from her thinking. Her mission to make Hoffman a friend kept replaying in her head. It was as if her mind was running from pillar to post, not knowing which way to turn.
She wanted to be in constant sorrow about her teacher and friend. Miss Harbowe was a wonderful person and to have her life ruined by the Braunawalls was not right. LillieBeth knew she should be worried and prayerful for her friend. Yet, she was worried about herself and felt selfish for it.
She could not help but worry about where the
y were going to live. She knew old widow Bailey was within her rights to make them move. She knew Mrs. Bailey did not have any choice except to take care of family first. It still felt like it was a betrayal of trust by someone she looked to as a friend. It was confusing to love a friend and be angry at her at the same time.
She was angry with the Braunawalls and upset by their attack on her. They had betrayed her trust and friendship, too. She was not afraid of them, as she had been before. Today she was carrying Daddy’s rifle. The chamber was empty, but she could pump a cartridge into the chamber and fire a shot before a rabbit could blink, twitch an ear, wriggle a nose or hop away.
She wanted to shoot Trance. Maybe she wanted to shoot Dangle, too. She knew shooting them would be wrong. She could not bring those two thoughts into harmony. She wanted to shoot the Braunawalls, but even if she saw them she did not know if she could pull the trigger. Standing at Hoffman’s gate was the very spot of their attack on her. She tried and she could not put them out of her mind.
Fletcher Marlowe Hoffman was a hard neighbor to love. She was sure the scripture told her to love her neighbor. The words were as plain as day. But she worried she had chosen the wrong neighbor or chosen the wrong time to undertake this mission. Reverend James had been on her side. However, he was not the one who had been pelted with stones, whipped with a willow switch and chased off Hoffman’s property.
Thinking of Reverend James brought back the memory of how he had looked at Susanne Harbowe. She was sure the Reverend was interested in courting her teacher. LillieBeth was interested in Reverend James courting LillieBeth. She may be young, but she was old enough if he was interested enough. He had fascinated her, his preaching held her captive, his looks made her heart flutter, and his touch made her knees weak.
She had given up her love for him. She had, in her mind, made a present of him to her teacher, a friend she loved dearly. Yet, if Susanne Harbowe could not have him because of the rape, then maybe she could. She knew it was not right to take back a gift once given, but if he could not or would not court Miss Harbowe for marriage, then she could take him back. She wondered if she would want him if he did not want Miss Harbowe because of something the Braunawalls had done without her consent. It did not make sense.
