The Angel's Song

by Roberta Kagan

  Clover put on the dress and looked into the broken looking glass on the table. She held it as far away from her as she could to see as much of the dress as possible. Even though the dress had a small coffee stain on the skirt, Clover thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever worn. Wearing it made her feel like a fairy princess. She twirled around until the skirt spread out in a shower of white cotton all around her. Then she smiled confidently, put her hands over her heart, said a quick prayer, and left her house.

  It was a three-mile walk to the entrance of the mines where she waited for the workers to be released for the day. When she saw Virgil come out of the gate, she ran up to him and began walking beside him.

  “How you doin, Virgil?” It took everything she had to speak to him outright. Her heart was pounding, but she knew she must declare herself now and tell him what she knew about Viola or she would lose him forever.

  “Just fine, Clove. You?”

  “Fine, ” she said. They walked in silence for several minutes. Finally, Clover blurted out, “I ain’t fine, Virgil Cooper. I’m far from fine. You gonna marry that Hunt gal?”

  “You mean Viola?” He stopped and looked at Clover.

  “Yeah, who else would I mean? Course I’m talkin about Viola.”

  “I suspect I will.”

  She stammered. “I don’t want you to.” Her face was crimson as she shuffled her feet.

  “And why not?”

  “Cause.” Hardly able to catch her breath, she stammered “Cause …I got … feelin’s … for you Virgil.”

  “You do?” he blurted out, genuinely surprised.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  Gosh, there is much more I need to tell him, but I can’t. My mouth just won’t move. I feel like I been struck with a curse and I’m not able to say all them things I gotta say.

  He stopped walking. “I sure am sorry to hear it, Clover. I didn’t know. I sure don’t want to hurt your feelins. But, well, fact is, I’m in love with Viola.”

  “Love?” Clover blurted out, finding her voice. “Love?” She had to tell him what she knew right then or she would lose him for sure. “She’s cursed, you know.”

  “Where’d you hear a thing like that?”

  “I know’d it. I heard my maw talkin to one of our neighbors. You know old Hanny Bell? Well, she’s about as old as the mountain. So she remembers things other folks done forgot. She tol my maw that Preacher Hunt ain’t Viola’s real paw. She said that she suspects that Viola’s real paw was the preacher’s brother Cyrus who run off after he done got Alice in a family way. Preacher Hunt married her to save her from ruin. And you know what else old Hanny said? She said Cyrus was evil. She said he’s cursed and cause Viola’s his child she’s cursed too. We don’t know this Cyrus and we ain’t never seen him. But she said that when he was a boy folks around these parts say he was kin to the devil.”

  “That kinda gossip don’t sit well with me, Clove. I don’t like to hear you sayin’ them things about Viola or Preacher and Mrs. Hunt.”

  “They’s true. And you know what else? Cyrus and Alice wasn’t never married. She got a baby by him out of wedlock. And you know what that means don’t ya? That makes Viola a bastard.”

  “Well, I don’t care. And you better take care that you don’t go spreading these damn rumors. You hear?”

  “You ain’t gonna tell Viola you know?”

  “No, cause I don’t believe you. And even if it’s all true, I don’t care. Viola ain’t cursed, you hear me? She ain’t. Now go away and keep your mouth shut. You understand me?” He turned away and began to walk quickly, leaving her standing there alone.

  Clover was crying. All of the love she felt for Virgil dissolved at that moment. She hadn’t even had a chance to tell him how she would be a good wife to him if he chose her instead of Viola. But now she hated him for hurting her feelings. All she wanted now was to punish him. And she vowed to herself that she would find a way.

  Chapter Eleven

  A few months later, Viola and Virgil announced they were engaged.

  Clover was outside lying under a tree when her mother came home from town. For as long as Clover could remember, her mother was the subject of idle gossip. Everyone knew that Clover’s mother was a prostitute and that she left her little girl alone in the house when she went out. Sometimes she returned home with lovely and expensive things, but she always ended up having to sell them. When Clover asked her mother where the pretty things came from, her mother just said they were gifts from good friends and refused to say anything more.

  Clover knew that people called her mother a whore and a hussy and it made her sad and embarrassed. But what else could her mother do? Clover knew that her father died in a mining accident before she was born, leaving her mother to fend for the two of them without any male support.

  “I heard some news while I was in town, Clover girl.” Her mother always called her Clover girl.

  “Yeah? So what? Why should I care about them folks in town; they sure don’t care about us?”

  Clover looked up to see her mother wearing a new red and white checked dress. It was so tight in the bodice that her cleavage hung out of the low neckline like two stuffed sausages.

  “You got you a new dress?” Clover asked.

  “Yeah, it was a present … from a special friend.”

  “You sure do get some nice gifts, Maw. Who was it that give’d it to you?”

  “Don’t you mind about that. It was just an old friend. Anyway, you wanna hear the latest gossip?”

  “Sure, Maw, if’n it makes you happy to tell me,” Clover said, bored.

  “Well … I heard that the Cooper boy is getting himself hitched to the Hunt girl. You know the one, pretty little thing she is, the preacher’s daughter.”

  Clover dropped the shovel. “You sure?”

  “Yep, I’m real sure. And the best part of it all is that there’s gonna be a wedding. And heck, you know what that means Clover girl? It means that we gonna get the leftover food. They’ll send some of the church folks to bring it right out to us the day after the wedding. With all them church folks bringin’ food fer a wedding, there oughta be plenty left fer us.”

  Clover twisted her body. The ground felt hard beneath her. .

  “Oh …” she said.

  “I thought I brung you good news. But it looks to me like you ain’t too happy to hear it. Somethin’ botherin’ you?”

  “No nothin’s botherin me at all, I’m happy, Maw. I’m real happy. We’re gonna get another charity basket and don’t that just make me so overjoyed. I live fer them charity baskets, just like you do.” Clover turned away from her mother to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

  “What’s a matter, honey?” Her mother touched Clover’s shoulder.

  “You wanna know what’s botherin’ me? You so sure you want to know?” Clover said in a shrill voice. “I’ll tell you exactly what it is. You and me wait in the shadows like dogs beggin for any kinda charity that we can get. We’re supposed to be happy to get little scraps that folks throw away, like old clothes that are so worn they’re full of holes or food that’s been left over from somebody’s wedding. Meanwhile, gals like Viola Hunt go to parties with their friends and wear pretty dresses that their maws made ’em, and then they marry handsome fellas like Virgil Cooper. Ain’t no fella like Virgil ever gonna look at a gal like me. Who do you thinks gonna marry me, Maw? Who? Either I’ll be an old maid or it’s gonna be some poor no count fool on charity just like us. Probably either be a drunk or dyin of the black lung.”

  The tears flowed freely down Clover’s cheeks.

  “Don’t no decent boy want me. Why would he? I ain’t got nice dresses. We don’t go to church. Hell, Maw, let’s just face facts, I don’t come from no respectable family. You know what folks around here say about you, Maw? Do you know? They say you’d get in bed with anybody for money. They call you a prostitute. A dirty whore! Is it true, maw? Is it?”

  Her mother was crying too. She l
ooked into her daughter’s eyes, begging for sympathy.

  “Aw, honey. I didn’t never want you to know what I was doin. But I suppose there wasn’t no stoppin’ you from findin’ out. Yeah, it’s true, I ain’t gonna lie to you. But I want you to know that I sure ain’t proud of it neither. But how was we ever gonna survive? A woman, all alone with a child? I didn’t have no education or no skills to get me no kinda job. I never even finished the second grade. How else was I gonna take care of you, Clover girl. How?”

  Clover couldn’t bear to look at her mother. She knew she should feel compassion for this poor woman who had done her best to give her food and a roof over her head. But the pain she felt at losing Virgil overshadowed any other emotions she might have had. And that pain exploded into a black rage. Clover stood up and looked at her mother.

  “You make me sick,” she hissed. Then she ran off and kept running even as she heard her mother calling her name.

  When Clover was far enough away that she could no longer hear her mother begging her to return, she sat down under a tree. Her pulse throbbed in her temple and her face was hot with tears, but her rage was stronger than her emotional pain and she began to devise a plan.

  This ain’t over yet, she thought. Her entire body trembled. No, it sure ain’t. I am gonna make them two lovebirds hurt just as badly as I’m hurtin’ right now. Why the hell do they get to be happy while I’m miserable?

  Chapter Twelve

  The folks in the little town of Mudwater Creek came together, as they always did for one of their own, in order to make the nicest possible wedding for Preacher Hunt’s sweet daughter and the kind young man to whom she was betrothed. They saw the two young un’s grow from knee-high to a tadpole into two fine young adults. The congregants who belonged to the Pentecostal church where Aiden Hunt preached were like a family, and they cared for Virgil and Viola as if they were their own flesh and blood children. Maggie McMoar unraveled several of the sweaters her children had outgrown so that she had enough yarn to knit a special newlywed’s blanket for the couple. Katie White saved all the sugar she could get her hands on for two months in order to bake the cake for the wedding celebration. Rightfully so, said everyone in Mudwater, because Katie was the best baker in town. The wedding would be a potluck dinner. Each family would contribute whatever dish they could afford to bring. And, as always, when there was a wedding at their small country church, every person would feel the blessings and the presence of God in the union of the two lovers.

  Doreen and Amos Jones, who owned the general store in town, brought a bolt of white cotton fabric to church the Sunday after they found out that Viola was getting married.

  “This here is for you to make a nice wedding dress for our Viola,” Doreen said, handing the fabric to Alice.

  “Are you sure, this here is awful expensive?” Alice said. “I was going to have her wear my dress. It was my maw’s dress and her maw’s too.”

  “Well now, that’s up to you. But I sure think that Viola would love to have a brand new dress to wear, don’t you?”

  “I reckon so,” Alice said with a smile. “And I sure do thank you.” Then she hugged Doreen Jones.

  Glady and Hank Washington stopped Pastor Hunt as they were leaving church that very same Sunday.

  “Looks like a big old congratulations is in order,” Hank said, shaking the pastor’s hand. “Your Viola is a good girl. I’ll tell you that’s for sure. Ain’t she, Mama?” he asked Glady.

  “Sure is, and that’s why my Hank and me wants to offer to bring as much fish as Hank can catch and a heaping plate of my famous corn pone to the wedding celebration.”

  “Oh, you folks don’t have to do all that,” Aiden said.

  “We don’t have to, but we want to. I can remember last winter when my Glady was awful sick. It was cold and snowy but Viola still come by every day to see how she was doin. She brung what she could. Cookies one time, some hot soup another, but mostly Viola always brung us a smile.”

  “Well, I sure do thank you both. And make no mistake, your gifts are gonna be a real special part of our family’s celebration,” Aiden said.

  “Thank you, Pastor.”

  Almost every member pledged to donate something because either the bride or the groom had touched his or her life in some way.

  Virgil’s mother and father loved Viola and also offered to help with the wedding in any way they could. The excitement of a big event was in the air. Viola hummed as she did her chores every day. And from the moment she woke up in the morning, she was eager for when Virgil would come over after work to see her.

  Now that Viola and Virgil were engaged, the Coopers and the Hunts shared Sunday dinners each week. After dinner, the young couple would go outside. Viola would sit on the tree swing that her father built for her when she was a child and Virgil would push her gently.

  “I want to go to the charity section of town and invite all them folks to come to our wedding,” Viola said. “Don’t nobody ever ask them to come to anything.”

  “I don’t know if’n they’d come anyway, honey. After all, most of ’em ain’t never even been to our church.”

  “Yeah, but maybe they don’t come to church cause they think they ain’t welcome. They might come if’n we go and tell them we want them to be a part of our wedding.”

  “I’ll go if’n you want me to. But I ain’t sure it’s such a good idea. What if we ain’t got enough food for all them folks? ’Side’s, them folks don’t even really know us.” He tried to muster a smile. He was remembering the cruel gossip Clover told him about Viola. After that, Virgil had never trusted Clover. Occasionally, he’d seen her following after him, hiding behind trees, looking odd and suspicious. She gave him a bad feeling.

  “They know us. You and me been bringin’ them baskets since we was just kids. And I think they would love to be a part of our special day. In fact, maybe if we started to invite them to things goin’ on at our church, they might start comin to services too. Sides, you know that somehow we always got enough food, Virgil. If God gave us all this happiness, us bein in love and all, don’t you think it’s only right that we share it with every livin’ creature?”

  “I suppose so,” he answered, smiling at her kindness.

  “Oh, Virgil, you’re always worryin’ too much about everything. If there ain’t enough food, everybody will just eat a little bit less is all.” She smiled at him and his heart melted.

  How could anyone be so pure and good? he thought. I must be the luckiest man alive.

  The following Sunday after church services, Virgil and Viola visited each of the shacks on the poor side of town. They invited everyone who lived there to attend their wedding. Most of the folks declined but said they would be rightly grateful for any donations of leftover food if it could be brought to them after the party. When Viola and Virgil arrived at the Graystone house, Viola knocked. It was several minutes before Clover gingerly opened the door and peeked out.

  “Yeah?” Clover said.

  “Hey, Clover!” Viola said smiling. “Can we come in?”

  Clover didn’t answer but she opened the door. A heavy smell of cabbage permeated the small dark room as Virgil and Viola entered.

  “Can we sit down?” Viola asked.

  “Sure,” Clover answered. She was avoiding Virgil’s eyes.

  “We come to invite you and your mama to our wedding,” Viola said. “Is your Mama here?”

  “No, she ain’t home.”

  “Well, we’d sure like it if you both would come,” Viola said, giving Clover her warmest smile.

  “I ain’t sure we can,” Clover said.

  “We understand if you can’t, don’t we Virg? But we sure do want you to know that you’re both welcome. And we would love to have you. Ain’t that right, Virgil?”

  “Uh huh,” he murmured, staring at Clover, hoping she wouldn’t say anything about Viola not being the legitimate child of Aiden and Alice.

  “Well, we best be goin’ now,” Virgil said.


  “Yeah, that’s right. We don’t want to wear out our welcome. But we sure do hope to see you and your maw at the wedding,” Viola said.

  As they walked away from the Graystone house, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief.

  Damn, I sure don’t like that girl, he thought as he turned to see Clover peering out the window. Her red-rimmed eyes were lined with dark purple circles. Virgil felt a chill run up his spine as she stared at him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After the visit from Virgil and Viola, Clover was despondent. Her heart was broken, her dreams shattered. Seeing the two of them so happy together right in her own little house was enough to make her decide that the time had come to put the evil plan she’d been spinning into immediate action.

  She waited until she could no longer see Virgil and Viola walking hand-in-hand outside of her house on their way back to their own side of town. Once she was sure they were far enough away that she would not run into them, she headed for the midwife’s house, which was located at the edge of town. Since she was a child, Clover had heard that the old midwife was a practitioner of Hillhock magic. There were many tales of the midwife healing the sick with plants and herbs. But there were also whispers that the woman was a witch and for the right price she could cast love spells or throw curses.

  Clover was no fool. She needed money. And she knew how her mother earned her money. She also overheard her mother say to one of the other women, who also did what her mother did, that if a gal found the right fella, he would pay a good sum for her virginity. Clover’s mother never told her this, but Clover always assumed that when she was old enough, her mother would take her to town and sell her body like a cow or pig at the market. And so rather than let her mother profit, she decided to sell her goods on her own. That way she would have the money to pay whatever price the witch demanded to cast a spell.