CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE

“Worie Dressar, you ain’t got one iota of business outta that bed.” Bess had roused from her sleep and come huntin me down. “You get yourself back in that cabin. You understand me?”

I tried to soothe her frustration by showin my gratitude. “I didn’t wanna wake you. I know you was tired. You’ve been so kind to care for me.”

Bess pressed both hands to her hips and tapped her foot against the hard wooden slats. She let me know right quick she wasn’t happy.

“Miss Bess, maybe I can sit out here on the porch. I’m feelin much better this morning,” I said.

She was like a bull ponderin a charge. Her foot kept right on tappin while she waited for me to move.

Ely pushed open the door to the cabin. “Lordy mercy, look at you. Standin and all.” He pulled a pine chair close and motioned for me to sit.

“Much obliged,” I said. “Miss Bess was just fussin at me for bein outside.”

Ely whirled around to face his wife. His finger wagged in her face. “This here is a blessin. I didn’t think she’d be able to walk for weeks. Let the girl alone, Bessy. Sunshine is good for healin.”

Bess snorted and headed inside, grumbling under her breath that Ely wasn’t no business questionin her doctorin.

“That was right kind of you, Ely. I know Miss Bess is worried over me.”

“She means well. She’d have been a good momma, given a chance. She mommas anything that needs help, be it a bird, a pup, or a person.”

I wiggled to get comfortable in the chair. “She’s been good to me, Ely. You both have.”

“We do what we do for you because we love you. We owe that to Miss Louise.”

My heart was warmed. I could tell Ely was truthful. Him and Bess had always been in my life.

“Ely, can I ask you somethin?”

“Surely.”

“You and Bess has been around Momma all my life. Did you ever figure she was takin care of them orphans?”

“Louise was a generous woman. She come from down near Atlanta. They wasn’t a mountain bone in her body. She loved with the heart of the mountain.”

I was stunned. Momma never seemed anything but a mountain girl. She sure never mentioned it.

“I reckon it ain’t gonna do no harm to tell you now.”

“Tell me what?” I couldn’t imagine what other secrets Momma kept.

“Louise met your daddy when he was tradin furs. She was teachin at a school close to Chattanooga.”

“Momma was a teacher?”

“She was. Me and Bess served her in the house she lived in. We was took in by her daddy after we run from the plantation.”

“You’ve always known Momma? Even before me?”

I didn’t know what to say. Momma’s secrets just kept getting deeper and deeper. So did Ely’s. Seemed him and Momma was tied pretty tight.

I tried to push it back, but anger twisted my stomach. “Everthing I know about Momma is a lie! You lied!”

Ely put his finger in my face. “You listen here. Louise was a good woman. The secrets she kept was to protect you’ins. Don’t you be givin me no whinin about truthfulness. They was never a better woman than your momma.”

I turned my head and sniffed away the tears. “What else do I need to know?”

“I ain’t sure I’m gonna tell you with that snitty attitude.”

I took in a breath to calm myself. “All I want is the truth. That’s all, Ely. Justice keeps whinin I need to trust, but that’s hard to do when they ain’t no truth to be had. Try and understand, Ely. Try.” I struggled to stand.

He slipped his knife from his boot sheath and cut a small branch that jutted from an oak limb onto the porch. I could see him chewin on his words as he picked off the leaves and let them float to the ground.

“Ely. Please. I need the truth. I can’t figure things right if I ain’t got the truth. What else was Momma hidin?” There had to be more.

The door squeaked as Bess pushed it open with her elbow. “Here. Leastways you both have some coffee.” She run the hot brew under my nose so I could get a good sniff.

The smell sent chills down my arms as it tickled ever bud on my tongue. “Don’t you think so, Bess?”

She handed Ely his cup. “Thinkin is somethin I try to do ever step I take.” She snickered at her own joke. “So guess you best tell me what I should be thinkin over?”

“Lawsy mercy. Here it comes.” Ely shook his head. Askin Bess for an opinion was like stickin your hand in the honey tree. It might just get stung.

“Truth, Miss Bess. I asked Ely to tell me the truth about Momma. All of it. I’m tired of tryin to piece these lies together.”

I’d struck a nerve, cause Bess’s smile dropped. She glanced at Ely and then back at me, never utterin a word.

“You know too, don’t you?”

Bess sighed. She patted Ely’s hand and nodded. “Truth comes in all sorts of shapes. Sometimes it’s hard to take in. Other times it becomes the light that guides us.” She leaned into Ely and kissed his cheek. “Even if it’s hard to swaller . . . it’s always right. Ain’t that so, Ely?” She walked inside.

“Ely? You’re scarin me. Did Momma do somethin bad?”

“Louise was a wonderful soul. She saved me and Bess.”

“I know that, you’ve told me.”

Ely paced the porch before he stopped. “Miss Worie, the truth is, your momma loved children, and it just killed her she could never have her own babies.”

“What?” I felt my knees buckle. Ely took my good arm and set me in the rocker. “What do you mean, Momma couldn’t have no babies of her own? There’s me and Justice.”

“Miss Worie, this is a can of worms I never wanted to open.”

My voice raised a notch. “It’s open, Ely. Ain’t no closin it now.”

Ely went to his knees. “Your momma never could have babies. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t never have no youngins. One day she run upon a woman tryin to give birth—your momma—and bein the woman she was, stepped in to help.”

There was no words. I couldn’t get my thoughts together. My whole life, Justice’s whole life. We was both just like Calvin. Orphans. I couldn’t breathe.

Ely took my hand. “You listen to me, Miss Worie. That woman died havin you. She didn’t have no family. And when your momma looked around and saw little Justice toddlin around, and when she held you, brand new in this world, she wasn’t gonna let either of you die.”

My chest ached like somebody had stabbed me.

“Your momma and daddy brought all you youngins into their home. Calvin. You and Justice. In her eyes you was all hers. Ever one of you. She never looked no different at you youngins. Never one time.”

“You knew all this time?” I asked.

Ely stared at the porch slats. He run his finger along the cracks between the boards. “I knew. We knew. Me and Bess. Whether you never knew your real momma died never mattered. You’d never know her. She was dead. They was no point in raisin you to wonder. Your momma and daddy never wanted you to have no void. They loved you youngins with everthing they had. That’s the kinda folks they was. That’s the kinda friends they was.”

I thought hard for a minute. My heart was tore. I loved my momma and daddy. Ely was right. They was the kinda folks any child would want. Momma was tender, gentle, lovin. Daddy was stern, but his love was nothin I ever questioned. Still, it was seventeen years of lies. Lies. How could I forget that?

I was angry. Hurt. And at the same time, I never felt so loved. Then it hit me.

“Justice,” I whispered. What about Justice? He’d been tryin so hard to stop drinkin the hooch. Betwixt me nearly gettin killed and now this, stayin away from his crutch would be hard.

Ely stood. “I reckon this is my job to give him this news. You ain’t in no frame of mind to do it.”

“Poor Justice,” I whispered. Would this ache not end?

“Worie, that boy is a man. When is you gonna learn you ain’t his momma?”

I shouted back at Ely, “I reckon he ain’t got no momma, now does he? Never had one!”

Ely eyed me straight on. I’d done crossed the line between hurt and anger. The vein in his neck raised. He was bitin back his anger. “Justice is grown. He’s got to learn to take hard news like a man. You best learn that you can’t do it for him. He’ll be fine.” Ely rubbed his neck and his nose flared. “But you. You gotta let loose of this anger. They comes a time in a body’s life when they need to accept the blessins the good Lord lays on them. His ways ain’t ours. That’s in the good book.” He dusted his trousers and gently squeezed my knee. “I ain’t sorry for keepin this from you. It wasn’t no sin. It was love. You need to learn love does what it must. If you question that, then read the good book.”

“That ain’t fair, Ely. That ain’t fair!” I shouted.

Ely come right to my face. “What ain’t fair? It ain’t fair that your real momma died birthin you. It ain’t fair you was took in by a momma who loved you with ever part of her soul. Raised you good. Taught you what you know. I reckon I ain’t too good at understandin what fair is.”

“But . . .”

“But what, Worie? I don’t supposed I’ve ever raised my voice to you. I’s just an old slave been set free in more ways than you know, but you need to stop blamin and start lovin.” Ely stomped through the door, and after a minute he come back. He slammed a book on my lap. “You want truth, Miss Worie. Look for it. You’ll find it right here.”

I eyed the book. Momma’s Bible. I felt like I had just been beat with a horse whip.

Ely swiped at his eyes. “Miss Worie, you’re a good woman. You got your momma’s heart. But you got an anger that takes the good and does away with it.”

“I what? I got anger?”

“Anger! And till you figure the world don’t spin to suit you, you ain’t gonna never have no peace.” Ely tapped his fingers on the book, then walked away.

I rubbed my fingers across Momma’s Bible. They wasn’t no reason why I couldn’t believe in the good Lord like Momma did. But once I started takin heed to Him, it seemed like nothin but trouble followed. I shook my head. No matter what I did, I couldn’t push away the tug at my heart. Is this how the good Lord shoves His way on people? Puttin them in places where they couldn’t say no?

My fingers dug into the weathered leather, and I pulled it close to my heart. I’d done come face-to-face with my own misgivins, and I supposed they was still misgivins to have. Bess knew what she was talkin about. Truth can be hard to swaller, and right now I was chokin.

Momma raised us good. They was no reason for Calvin’s hate or Justice’s drinkin. It come to me that Momma did the best she could. She couldn’t make our decisions. The paths we took as grown-ups was our own doin. Momma couldn’t fix them. I guessed that’s why she wrote them papers. Maybe them was her hopes for us. One last effort to guide us in a different direction.

I strained to stand and make my way to the porch rail. The morning fog had lifted and the outline of the mountains was drawed across the sky. Memories of the city brushed through my mind. It wasn’t a place for me. There was no desire to ever go back, just the desire to make things right for these youngins.

Doanie and T. J. come outta the outhouse. She was praisin him to high heaven for usin the hole. In the midst of this mess, I had to laugh. She was like a little momma herself. Abeleen carried a basket into the henhouse. She stopped and petted the hound that stayed at her heels. What a strong child. She’d grow into a fine woman.

All I could do for these youngins was love them, guide them. They’d come a day, just like Momma, I couldn’t change their paths.

I looked at them youngins, and I could see they had happiness in the horror of what they’d survived. Despite all them children had lost . . . there was laughter. It was a lesson I needed to learn.

Out by the garden, Ely stood, hands in his pockets, talkin to Justice. I watched as Justice bent forward and rested his hands on his knees. Ely had told him. Justice picked up a rock and tossed it hard across the garden. But what touched me most was seein Ely wrap his arms around Justice. They was no doubt Ely and Bess had loved Momma and Daddy. Loved us.

I tried to hold the reins on everthing that happened. It had to be my way. I knew best . . . or did I? I was always hardheaded, even stubborn. It was hard to imagine somebody else might have a better way of doin things.

Ely come back to the cabin. He took my good hand and kissed it. “I love you, Miss Worie. Always have.”

His voice was hard, and when it quivered, I thought it was just that he was old, but it wasn’t. I saw somethin in Ely’s eyes I’d never seen . . . His eyes was filled with hurt. Hurt I’d brought on.