April 1, 1932. Otis Merriweather is out of school the rest of this week helping with the plowing at his place, so I was not able to tell him to tell his cousins to leave Mrs. Carlton alone. Then the Cluecluckers came back today, and it turned out just terrible!
I was on my way over to Darlene’s house to warn her and her mother about them. I had just about made it to the creek when I heard their automobiles coming up through the woods up on the hill. I took off running so as to get to the house to warn Darlene and her mother not to be ascared. I went around to the back to keep those Cluecluckers from seeing me, and it is a good thing I did. They came through the woods fast, coming into sight even before I made it to the back door, marching right into the front yard, that big old cross laid across the shoulder of that man I reckoned was Hank. I did not want them to see me, so I shimmied up the big spruce behind the house and up onto the roof, then tiptoed up to the peak of the roof to peep over. They were in the front yard, talking about Billy Ray. I got a little ascared listening to them, their white robes dragging the ground and those pointy hoods making them look like big ghosts. I did not move, lying flat up on the roof, peeping over, listening in to what they were saying.
When they walked up on the front porch to bang on the door and holler for Billy Ray to come out, I could not see them anymore, so I slipped down to the porch roof and hid in the ivy growing up there. I was just able to lean over and see what was going on. Mrs. Carlton came to the door, cracking it open just a little, but she did not let them in.
“We have come to talk to your husband, ma’am,” one of them said. “We have heard he has not been acting as a man should, mistreating you and your daughter, and we want to set him straight.”
Mrs. Carlton eased out on to the porch. She was shaking, and I have never seen anybody as ascared-looking in my life. “He isn’t here,” she said, quiet-like.
“Ma’am, I know he is your husband, but you do not need to be protecting him. We are here to help you. You have nothing to fear from us, or from Billy Ray, once we have had a chance to speak to him.”
Mrs. Carlton shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself as if she were freezing, although it was as mild a day as I have seen. “He isn’t here,” she said again, and this time, she sank back onto the door.
The men began to argue with her a little bit, cajoling in soft voices, and although they sounded as nice as could be, those white robes and their hidden faces made them seem evil as the devil. The man who held the cross never said a word. He just stood aside, holding that cross out in front of him like a shield.
After a while, the head man asked if they could come in and check for themselves, and then Mrs. Carlton suddenly stood up straight, put her hand on her hip, and said, loudly, “Gentlemen, I appreciate your concern, but this is my house, and I am a woman of my word. My husband has not been home all day, and I will not allow any strange men inside when he is not here. I am sure you can appreciate that.” She crossed her arms again, and you could tell she meant business. The fellows murmured among themselves, and then finally, they bowed at her and told her to tell Billy Ray that they would be back, and they stepped off the porch. Mrs. Carlton went inside and shut the door.
They did not leave right away. They stood in the front yard for a few minutes, and I could hear everything they said, being hid up in the wisteria and ivy up on the roof. The tallest man among them whistled.
“What a looker!” he said. “I wouldn’t mind coming back some dark night and getting me a piece of that.”
The others laughed. “Sam, you’d better watch it. We’re here to protect her, so don’t be getting any ideas.”
The one holding the cross said, “Did you see that little n-- in there?” The others looked at him. “In the window. Looking out at us.”
“Naw,” laughed another. “I saw a little girl. She was as white as a lily.”
The man with the cross shook his head again. “No, kinky hair, and a Negro face. I seen her with the light shining on her. She may be white, but I know good and well what she is.”
The others argued with him awhile, and finally the one they called Sam said, “Well, I know her mama ain’t one! And if she is, I may just change my appetites.”
They argued for a while longer before they finally decided to knock on the door again to try to get a look at Darlene. I do not know what came over me, but I got so ascared for what they might do if they saw her that I slipped back over the roof, climbed down the spruce, and ran around to the front of the house.
I just ran right up to them, grinned at them like a crazy person, and said, “Hey, fellows! Are you the Cluecluckers? It is too bad Billy Ray is not at home, but to tell you the truth, he has been a whole lot better to his wife and child since I told him you were coming. You need not bother yourselves with coming back. I think he will behave from now on. My daddy and brothers are looking out for him.”
They all turned and stared at me, and then they started backing off. Within a minute or two, they were headed back to their automobiles. I could hear them starting up, and they roared off down the dirt road. I went up and knocked on the door, but no one answered, and I got to feeling bad that those men had shown up on account of me, so I went on home.
We had some fried chicken that Miss Janey Jo brought over for supper, but I could not eat much of it, I was so worried. I wanted to tell the others about it, but they were all about dead on their feet. Mama asked Beryl and me to wash the dishes without her, and she went on to bed with Sapphire without hardly eating a bite herself.
I am thinking just now that it is April Fool’s day, and I am feeling like the worst kind of fool there ever was. I wish I had not said anything to Otis about Bill Ray. There may be more trouble than I had reckoned on.
April 2, 1932. It was a terrible, terrible day. When Daddy got home this morning, he was a pure mess. His face was all bruised up and his nose was swole up to about the size of 3. His knuckles were skinned up, too, and he was limping. He said he had an altercation with a big old hobo that did not like to be told to get off the train. Then he went to bed with a poultice. At the time, I was glad he did not go out to the woodshed first, but now I am wishing he had drunk himself senseless. I had no idea what kind of trouble I was in.
As soon as Daddy was in bed, Uncle Woodrow came in and asked Mama to come outside for a little while. The rest of us young’uns went out to the field, and as we went out, I could see that Mama, Mrs. Carlton, and Uncle Woodrow were all standing in a huddle. After a while, Mama came out to get me. By the tone of her voice and the look on her face, I knew I was in big trouble
Uncle Woodrow and Mrs. Carlton were sitting at the kitchen table. Mrs. Carlton looked just awful, and I knew it had something to do with those Cluecluckers. As it turns out, it was way worse than I had reckoned on. Mrs. Carlton had heard everything I had said to them, so she knew I had something to do with those men coming to take care of Billy Ray. I told her about how Otis Merriweather’s uncle and cousins looked out for women who had bad husbands and how he said he would send them here because of the way Billy Ray had been beating Mrs. Carlton and Darlene.
They all three got very quiet, then they looked at each other. “We might as well tell her,” said Mama. Mrs. Carlton nodded her head, and then Uncle Woodrow took a shaky breath and he told me the most awful thing. Those men say they are looking out for the good of the community and that they go around taking care of people who cannot take care of themselves, but they use that as an excuse in order to pester and even kill people they do not like. They especially do not like Negroes, Catholics, or Jews. The fact that they had seen Darlene and recognized her as one means that they probably will be back, and they might try to do something terrible to her.
About that time, we heard Billy Ray’s car coming by, so Mrs. Carlton jumped up and ran out the door. Mama did not say anything to me, and neither did Uncle Woodrow. He went back out to the fields, and Mama went into the bedroom to talk to Daddy.
The day went from bad to worse. Daddy got up for dinner, and even though neither he nor Mama said anything while everybody ate, I knew I was going to get it. Daddy looked mad at first, and Mama looked ascared and sad. She kept looking at me, and her eyes would well up, and then she would look away. She did not look at Daddy at all. As soon as dinner was over, they sent everybody else out to plant, and then they called me into the living room, and I knew they were going to bless me out good, and maybe even whip me for siccing those Cluecluckers onto Billy Ray. My stomach was in knots, not just because I was in trouble, but also because I knew I had done something bad to Mrs. Carlton and Darlene.
Daddy sat down on the couch and made me sit right next to him. Mama sat across from us, not saying a word. Daddy’s mad face just crumpled for a minute. He looked so sad and mad and beat up all at the same time, but then he drew a big breath and said, “Pearl, honey, do you know about Pandora’s Box?”
I shook my head, “No, sir.”
“Well, it is about a girl who found a very pretty box, and she opened it. What she did not know was that it contained all the demons and the devils in the world, and when she opened it, they all flew out and went around wreaking havoc. Do you know what that means?”
I did not know exactly, but I did not want to say so. I told him I figured he meant that my siccing the Cluecluckers on Billy Ray opened up a world of trouble for Mrs. Carlton and Darlene.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Those men are bad. I want you to stay away from them, and if they ever come back while you are over there, I want you to come straight home. Is that plain?”
“What about Darlene and Mrs. Carlton?” I asked.
“You can come get me if I am home, or you can go get Woodrow or your Pap-pa, but you keep Jasper and Sardius out of it, you hear?”
I could not figure out why he did not want Jasper or Sardius to help Darlene and Mrs. Carlton. “But, Daddy,” I said, “they can help. They’ve got your rifle. It’s too far to go get Pap-pa. And you know Uncle Woodrow is not tough enough to run them off.”
Daddy stood up, his face turned red, and he shouted, “Just wind your neck in! You’ve got no business sticking your nose into Billy Ray’s business!” Then he told me to stay away from Mrs. Carlton and Darlene from here on out, and never to go over to their house again, and he stalked out the door. Mama cried a little, looked at me as if she wanted to say something, and then burst into tears and went back into her bedroom.
Daddy did not get home again until suppertime, drunk as a skunk. Mama did not hardly do anything all day, but just stayed in the house, trying to do a little sewing. She did not say a word to me about Darlene the whole time. Later on, she said she felt a sick headache coming on, and she went to bed, leaving Beryl, Ruby, and me to take care of Sapphire, then supper, and then everyone’s baths. It is a good thing there was plenty of goat’s milk in the springhouse, so we were able to keep the baby fed.
At first, I just felt bad, and then I got to thinking about how Daddy said he did not want me helping Mrs. Carlton or Darlene even when those bad men came, and he made it plain that he was not going to help out any, either, and that made me madder. Mrs. Carlton and Darlene do not have anybody in the word to take care of them, and Daddy ought to know better than to just let bad people run over a helpless woman and child. He owes it to Darlene, and to me, to protect what needs to be protecting. By the time we got the dishes done, I was about to boil over.
Mama came out of the bedroom about then. Her eyes were red and swole up, and she looked so pitiful that I got over my mad spell right quick, especially when she put her arms around me and said, “Pearl, I am so sorry. We will do what we can to help Darlene and Mrs. Carlton. Daddy didn’t mean it when he said to keep away from them. He is just ascared for you.”
I stomped my foot. “Well, if he was so ascared, why did he leave out and go get drunk? He can’t do me a bit of good lying drunk around here. I reckon I just have to take care of myself. Thank goodness I have Jasper and Sardius to lean on!” Then I felt terrible about saying it. Poor Mama’s face just crumpled up and she went back into the bedroom. I feel sick.
Warm, calm, waxing days.
The taste of hate and fear sits like a vapor over the land
And in my waters clear to the bedrock.
I wait for the evil that blackens the hearts of men
To blacken the sun as it blackens the Great Orb,
Who turns away her face in disgust.
April 3, 1932. It was a bad day in so many ways. I did not hardly sleep a wink all last night, worrying about what those Cluecluckers might do, and I am sick that Daddy has told me to keep my nose out of it.
I also am sad because Mama and Daddy did not go to church with us today. Mama had a sick headache and Daddy’s hangover was too bad. It burns me up that poor Sardius will probably miss school again tomorrow to make up for his sorry ways. I also was still a little mad at both of them for telling me to stay away from Darlene, so I got Ruby and Beryl up, and then we went off to church by ourselves. I left Sapphire at home, but I made sure Mama was up and taking care of her before we left. I could not stand it if something happened to her. Just thinking about that little Lindberg baby makes me want to cry. Poor Jasper and Sardius had to stay home and plow.
I stayed after church so I could talk to Miss Weston. All this has been weighing on me something terrible. I was hoping Miss Weston might be able to shed some light on things, and maybe she can help me find a way to take care of Mrs. Carlton and Darlene.
I asked Miss Weston straight-out why some people do not like Negroes. She hemmed and hawed a little bit, then she sat down beside me, held my hand, and said, “Some people do not understand that God made everyone to be a little different than everyone else, and when they see differences in people, they think there is something wrong with them.” I told her that is what Mama said, but it did not make sense to me. A lot of people are different and they get by with it. No one hates me because I have straight, white hair and no one hates Walt Bittertree because he walks with a limp, and no one hates Uncle Woodrow because he shakes sometimes. Why would they hate Darlene?
She said that some people think certain types of people who are of a different race are not as good as others. Negroes have it especially rough because some people look for ways to make themselves feel better when they realize how bad white folks treated them. They enslaved them, beat them, and put them in chains. If you believe someone is as good as you are and is the same as you on the inside, you cannot in your heart justify treating that person badly—beating him, or putting shackles on him for no reason other than you want to make him work for you. It makes people feel better if they can say Negroes are not really people, not really children of God.
I remembered what Sam Hutchinson said about Negros being animals, and it all made sense to me, but it made me very sad for Darlene. She would feel terrible if she knew Sam said that about her. I keep thinking that those Cluecluckers are going to try to do something awful to her, and it is my fault. I told Miss Weston about how the Cluecluckers came to the house asking for Darlene, and then I begged her to do something to stop them. After she heard me out, she said she would go to the Sheriff and tell him that the clan was harassing women and children. But when I told her that Otis Merriweather’s cousin is the Sheriff and that he is likely in on it, she went pale and put her hand to her face. We just sat there a long time, feeling sad, until she finally said we should pray and that she would think of something. This is getting worse and worse!
The only good thing that happened is that Daddy was plowing when we got home. Even though he had told me to stay away, I went over to Darlene’s house anyway, but no one was home.
April 3, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
Trouble upon trouble has come to my quiet little paradise. Today, I just found out that the Klu Klux Klan has been to Darlene’s house, and that they are bent on doing violence to her. Have you heard of them? They are an organization that harasses and even kills people of color, and, I have heard, Jews and Catholics as well. I found out about them when I was at school from one of my professors who was working to expose their crimes. They are well known throughout the South for murder and violence.
I suspect that it was the Ku Klux Klan that burned down the church in Memphis that I told you about last August. I feel lost and helpless, unable to do anything. I wanted to report them to the law enforcement, but as it turns out, the sheriff in these parts is related to the men involved, and it may be that he is a part of the organization as well! To make matters more agonizing for me, the group is family to one of my students. How could this be? How could these darling children, so earnest and so innocent, be a part of a den of such evil? How could the gentle, kind people of this community harbor so much hatred in their hearts? I do not know where to turn, what to do, how to stop it, or even what to think.
Oh, Cecilia! Please pray like you have never prayed in your life. I, myself, have been on my knees all afternoon and evening, and all I feel is a deep, empty pain throughout my whole being. Where is God in all this?
With a heavy heart,
Emily
April 4, 1932. Poor Charles Lindberg paid over $50,000 in ransom money to get his baby boy back, but Daddy says he probably will never see him again. I cannot imagine how much money $50,000 is. If someone kidnapped our little Sapphire and demanded $50,000, or even $5,000, there is no way we could even begin to pay it. I do not even think we could come up with $500. We would have to sell our farm to do it, but we would. Sapphire is priceless to us.
I had another talk with Miss Weston at dinnertime today. I still don’t understand why people think Darlene is a Negro when she is pure white, and since I cannot get a good answer from Mama, I was hoping Miss Weston would know.
She was very nice about it, and we had a good talk. She said people look at one or two things about a person and make up their minds, even if it does not make sense. She said that kinky hair, a wide nose and big lips are what make people know that Darlene is a Negro, and they completely ignore the fact that her skin and hair are white. That just confused me more. Sarah Boyd has kinky hair, and lots of people have fat lips and big noses, and nobody holds it against them. Miss Weston looked sad and said that Darlene has just the right combination of things going against her, and once ignorant and ungodly people make up their minds about something, they cannot get it out of their heads, and they think they are justified to be mean.
That just burns me up. Darlene cannot help how she looks, and nobody has the right to be nasty to her because of it. It burns me up that Daddy told me to stay away from Darlene’s house, and I just dare Mama to say anything! I got so mad that I promised myself that nobody could stop me from doing whatever I can to take care of Darlene, and I went over there right after school to tell her that. No one was home again. I peeked in all the windows, but I could not see anything but an empty house. It would have been nice to go up on the roof and look at the river and think for a little while, but I went on back home because I knew Mama and the boys would be worn out from plowing all day, and I started feeling bad about not helping out. I have not been much help to anybody of late.
My soul is heavily burdened. I do not know to whom I can talk about this. I have brought a load of grief upon my friends and my family. I wish I could do something to end this terrible mess!
April 5, 1932. Sardius went back to school with us today. Tonight is the dark moon, so he is taking a little break before we have to start in planting peas and broadbeans tomorrow. It was very, very nice to be able to have him walking with us, and I took the chance to tell him about what all had been happening with the Cluecluckers coming. I did not hardly get started before he shushed me and pointed to Beryl. I did not get a chance to talk to him again until we got away together at dinnertime, and then I told him everything.
Sardius was very sweet. He told me that it was not my fault that those bad men had come to bother Mrs. Carlton and Darlene. He soothed me and petted me on the back until I calmed down, and then he said we should report this to somebody. But when I told him about Otis Merriweather’s uncle being the Sheriff, he did not know what to do either. He got quiet for a long time, and then he said, real quiet, “Let’s pray about it.”
I wished that I had talked to Sardius earlier. I have been praying every day for Jesus to tell me what to do, but Sardius would have more weight with the Lord. I am a terrible sinner whose word would not be worth much, but Sardius has given his life to Jesus, and he is a much better child of God than I am. I just nodded my head as Sardius put his arm around me, and we prayed for all we were worth. I just about hugged him. Sardius is the smartest and best boy I know.
It felt good to unburden myself before the Lord. I promised Him I will quit selling whiskey if He would just find a way out of this mess and to save Darlene from worldly harm.
This was the prettiest day we have had so far this year. A whole grove of serviceberry trees are blooming along the fenceline over by Jimmy Holland’s pasture. We stopped to pick some for Mama and Mrs. Carlton. Mama loved hers, but Mrs. Carlton and Darlene were not home. I left them on the front porch. I hope they cheer them up.
April 6, 1932. I have not seen Darlene for five days, and the more I think about her, the sicker I get. I wish I could go see her, but we are spending every minute out in the fields until dark, and she has not come over here once.
April 7, 1932. All of us were back at school today, including Otis Merriweather. I collared him at dinnertime and told him he had better tell his uncles and his cousins to leave Darlene and her mother alone. He looked at me as if I had slapped him. He had no idea that his cousins could be mean to Mrs. Carlton or anybody. I said they sure and well were mean, and I did not want to see them sticking their noses around where they did not belong any more. Otis about cried and tried to get me to tell him why I wanted them to leave Billy Ray alone, but I was not about to tell him that Darlene is a Negro or a Catholic. He might be on his cousins’ side. I had already gotten Darlene into enough trouble.
When we got home from school, Mama let on that she was worried about Darlene and Mrs. Carlton. This was the first time she has mentioned them since Daddy had told me to stay away from them. She had not seen either of them, although they were still bringing Sapphire her goat milk. Somebody puts it on the steps early of the mornings, then disappears for the day. Mama said she had gone over there several times, but they were never home. I am as low as a snake’s belly, but I am glad Otis is going to call off his family.
April 8, 1932. When we got home from school today, guess who met me as I was coming down the path? Darlene! But it was a different Darlene than I have ever seen before. Her hair was nearly as straight as mine! It fell in the prettiest curves from the part on the side of her head down to her chin, and she had on pretty pink lipstick. When she took off her spectacles, she did not look like anyone from around here, but like a foreign princess or a movie star! We rushed into the house together to show Mama.
Mama stopped in her tracks when she saw her. At first, she lit up with a smile, then she ducked her head, looking sad. Mrs. Carlton came in behind us, looking nervous. “What do you think, Adaline? Will it work?” she said.
Mama looked at Mrs. Carlton with a kind of sad expression that made me worry. “Oh, Celeste. She is beautiful, but…” Then she stopped, glanced at Darlene, and said, “Darlene, honey, you are just beautiful! I love your new hairdo,” and I felt better.
Beryl was crazy over Darlene’s slick hair and her pink lipstick. We all wrapped our arms around each other and danced around until we all fell down laughing. What a wonderful day this has been. Now even if those men get a good look at Darlene, they will not be able to say she is a Negro.
Mrs. Carlton and Darlene were mighty relieved when I told them I had talked to Otis and told him to tell his cousins to not come back. Things are going to be better from here on out.
Oh, and Jasper and Uncle Woodrow got most of the peas planted today. They have a little more to do, but they say they can ease off some. They are going to take tomorrow off before they start in on the beans.
It is funny how things go from good to bad and back to good again in no time at all.
April 9, 1932. One good thing about those Cluecluckers coming is that they scared off Billy Ray. Mrs. Carlton told him about how they came asking for him, and he lit out right after that and has not been back since. Billy Ray is the biggest coward in the world. I cannot imagine anybody more low-down than a man who will leave his wife and child alone when he thinks some bad men will be poking around. If he had any backbone at all, he would be waiting for them with a loaded shotgun.
Now that the Cluecluckers have been called off and Billy Ray has taken off for parts unknown, we had us a big time today. Daddy has to work overtime at the railroad to take the place of some of the men who are out sick, so he will not be home this week. That is fine with me. We can use the extra money, and he was not here to put a damper on our fun. Darlene did not need to go over to Pap-pa’s, so we decided to go fishing. The river is swole up very high. When it is high and swift, Mama does not like us to go down there by ourselves in case we fall in, so we talked Jasper and Sardius into going with us. It did not take much talking. We all had a grand time, and we caught ten trout betwixt us!
Warming, waxing days.
The taste of green seeps deep and soft.
The greenleaves bud and swell,
My body is full of freshness,
My silver children wake to my roaring song.
The upright ones rejoice in fullness,
But they do not see the Darkness looming.
I sing of Spring but wait for calamity
April 10, 1932. It is Sunday, which is usually my favorite day, especially since Darlene and Mrs. Carlton joined us for dinner, but today Uncle Woodrow seemed a little tetchy. At dinner, we were all making on over Darlene’s beautiful, wavy hair, and Miss Weston mentioned that Darlene looks almost white, and all of a sudden, Uncle Woodrow held his hand up to let us know to be quiet. Then he turned to Darlene and said,
“Sweetheart, don’t you let anyone tell you that you aren’t perfect the way you are. It’s okay to disguise yourself now, when you may be in danger, but one day, you will know that you need to be proud of who you are and what you are, and you won’t need to hide from anybody. It isn’t you that needs changing. It is the ignorant and bigoted people who don’t know any better. And don’t you ever forget it.”
Everybody got very quiet, and then Miss Weston blushed. Mama spoke up and said, “Of course, Woodrow. Darlene is perfect the way she is. But for now, I think it is a good idea she keep herself disguised as long as there is tension around here. Don’t you agree?”
Uncle Woodrow just nodded then went back to eating, but he was quiet and a little tetchy with everybody but Darlene and me the rest of the day.
April 10, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
It was an uncomfortable day. I think the crisis with Darlene may be over, but things are still a little tense among my newfound family. Pearl informs me that the Klan has been called off, and Darlene has managed to change her hair enough that she might be able to pass for white. If they should come back, perhaps they will not molest her or her mother. Still, I am wary. Pearl does not know what these people are capable of. I told you about the men who tried to lynch the colored man over in Alcoa. They did not succeed, but things were breathtakingly tense for some time, and now the poor man has been sentenced to death. What a tragedy! He was caught up in his anger and jealousy, and it was entirely the white man’s fault. The jury did not see it that way, however, and now he will be taken away from his family and his loved ones. The misery just will not end!
We were discussing this at dinner today, and I mentioned how pleased I was that Darlene might be able to pass for white with her straightened hair, and suddenly Woodrow gave me a hard look. Then he turned to Darlene and told her she needs to always remember that she is just as good as everybody else. I could not agree more, but as long as there is trouble between the races here and as long as ignorant people harbor evil in their hearts against people of color, I think it is necessary that Darlene try to blend in as much as possible.
Woodrow spent the entire remainder of the meal talking to Darlene and Pearl. I know he is concerned for the child and wants her to be at ease, but I was a little surprised that he conversed with them almost exclusively, when he usually is attentive to my thoughts and words. I ended up talking to Mrs. Carlton and Mrs. Wallace the whole time. Mrs. Carlton is surprisingly beautiful, and very gracious. She is unusual, but I can see why some might find her attractive.
I simply am too drained to write any more. Give my love to everyone, and please do not stop praying!
Emily
Sunday is my favorite day of the week. I love to go to church to hear from the Word of God, and I also love to go to my grandfather’s house for Sunday dinner afterwards. We always have a nice crowd. Miss Weston, my teacher, comes for Sunday dinner, and so does my Uncle Woodrow. My father was not able to come yesterday because he had to work overtime at the Railroad, but we managed to have a good time without him, even though we missed him very much.
The reason we had such an extra-special good time this Sunday is because my best friend, Darlene, and her mother came to dinner with us. Darlene has come before, but this is the first time her mother has been able to. She usually stays home and cooks Sunday dinner for her husband, but since he was gone yesterday, she was able to join in with us! It was a very good time.
April 11, 1932. I was happy over the weekend, but today has been another awful day, even worse than any I have had before. The Cluecluckers came back. We did not go to school today because of the planting, and I ran over to Darlene’s house at dinnertime. We had gone up on the roof to eat, and we were just sitting there, enjoying the sunshine, when we saw them coming through the woods, all dressed up in their white ghost costumes. The same man who had carried the cross before wore a filthy handkerchief over his face instead of the hood the others wore. It gave me chills to see him, and I could feel Darlene grow stiff with afright. We both threw ourselves down flat on the roof and eased over the top so that we were on the back side of the house, and we just laid there, still and quiet as we could be while those Cluecluckers walked up to the front porch and knocked on the door.
It took Mrs. Carlton a long time to come to the door. They kept knocking and knocking, and I could imagine them going around, peeking in the windows, and I was scared to death they would come to the back and look up to see us. I thought Darlene should not have anything to worry about now that her hair was as straight as a white girl’s, but she just froze up when she saw them and shook her head when I whispered that she did not need to be ascared of them now.
We stayed quiet while they kept banging on the door. Finally, Mrs. Carlton opened it. I could not hear a thing anyone was saying, so I whispered to Darlene that I was going to go listen in. Although she grabbed my hand, shaking her head, “no,” I was dying to know how Mrs. Carlton would handle it. I pulled myself away to slide over the peak of the roof and down to the roof of the porch, where I hid in among the wisteria and ivy. I could hear them plain as day.
Mrs. Carlton was saying, “I told you. My husband is not here. He has gone hunting with several of his friends, and I expect them back sometime, but I assure you, he is not at home at present. In case you are interested, he has been very well behaved ever since I told him you had come. I thank you for that, but your work is done, so you might as well go on your way. There is no need for you to come again.”
I inched my head over the roof and peeked through the wisteria. The man with the handkerchief across his face had put down his cross and had his face mashed up against the window with his hands cupped around his eyes, looking in just as brash as a trashy old peeping-tom. He backed up and looked at Mrs. Carlton in a mean way.
“Is your daughter at home, ma’am?” he asked.
Mrs. Carlton froze, and from where I was, I could see how ascared she suddenly was. She stood there for a minute, then she asked him why he had his face covered. He did not answer her, but asked again if Darlene was at home, and he picked up his cross and lowered it down toward her head in a mean way.
Finally, she said, “She is not here, either, and I ask you gentlemen to leave at once. You have no business with me or my daughter. The Wallaces live just across the creek from here, and I believe everyone is at home, including both Mr. Wallace and his brother, as well as his sons. If you do not leave at once, I will call out to them.”
I knew she was bluffing. Daddy was not home, although Uncle Woodrow and the boys were about somewhere, but they could not hear her from there no matter how loud she hollered. I figured the only thing to do was to skitter back across the roof and down the back and go get them before things got out of hand. I had a bad feeling about this, and all of a sudden, I was not so sure about how much Darlene looked like a white girl. If they looked at her up close, they might be able to figure out she is still a Negro, no matter how much her looks had changed.
I did not know what to do. Uncle Woodrow would not be worth much. If he even saw these men dressed up in their dirty sheets, he would no doubt fall into a shaking fit, and Sardius is too skinny to really scare these fellows. Only Jasper has some heft to him, and there is not much he could do against seven men set on meanness. I laid there for a minute more while I thought about it. Jasper could shoot them, or I could bring him and Mama and everyone and act like we were just ladies coming over for a visit while Uncle Woodrow drove the wagon over to get Pap-pa. But it would take a long time for them to get back here, and there was no telling what might happen in the meantime.
No matter how I looked at it, it looked bad. But then, while I was lying there, trying to decide what to do, one of the other men said in a little nicer tone. “We would like to meet the little girl who lives here with you, ma’am. I reckon she is your daughter? Do you know where she is?”
Mrs. Carlton lifted her head and told them straight to their faces that Darlene was off spending the night with her schoolteacher, Miss Emily Weston, and she would not be back today. The men looked at each other, then the tall one, the one they had called “Sam” stepped right up to Mrs. Carlton and raked his hand across her chest, picking up the cross she wears on her necklace.
I know that is a Catholic cross because it has Jesus hanging on it, and I knew it was trouble by the way the man was looking at it and then looking at Mrs. Carlton with a sort of hungry look on his face.
“Are you Catholic, Ma’am?’ he asked. Mrs. Carlton took a step back, but he hung onto that cross, stepping up to her and getting close to her face, then he yanked at the necklace. It broke and came off in his hand.
After that, I could not believe my eyes what happened. He kind of sneered at her, and then he reached his hand inside her dress, and grabbed her titty, hard! I just about fell off the roof! I would have hollered at him then, but I was so shocked that all I could do was just draw in a breath and hold it. A woman’s titties are private to her and to her baby, and no one is ever allowed to touch them, not even her children, and especially not a grown man! My mama has told me that if anybody ever tried, I was to kick him in his private parts and scream bloody murder. That man had reached right in and grabbed one of Mrs. Carltons’, and I could not make it seem right in my mind that anyone could do such a thing. Mrs. Carlton’s face went red. She let out a little shriek, then she hauled off and slapped him. At the same time, one of the other men jumped in and grabbed the fellow.
“Sam, you lay off,” he said. “We are not here to insult the lady.” Then the others stepped up, grabbing Sam to pull him away. Sam kind of glared at them, then glanced at Mrs. Carlton who stood in the doorway, her hand to her neck, shaking so hard she could barely stand.
“I am truly sorry, Ma’am,” said the one who had stopped Sam. “Our fellow has no right to insult you. There is no need for you to fear us. We will not be back.” No one else said anything. They just turned and stepped across the yard and into the woods. The man who had apologized to Mrs. Carlton turned and waved at her as they made their way into the woods. I nearly died because when he looked back, I had half stood up on the roof, and I was ascared he had seen me, but he turned again and went on into the woods.
We watched them go, waiting, still as mice, for a good 5 minutes before I scurried back over the roof to Darlene. She was lying flat on the roof, shaking and sobbing quietly into her hands. After a while, Mrs. Carlton came out, walking around the house, calling to us softly, and when we peeked over the edge of the roof, she put her hand to her mouth and started to cry.
I have never felt so bad in my life.
April 14, 1932. I do not know where Darlene is. She and her mother have been gone since yesterday. I wish Daddy would come home. Mama is a nervous wreck. We have switched to planting Brussels sprouts and squash. We are working such long hours I do not have time to write.
April 15, 1932. It was a hard day of planting. Darlene and Mrs. Carlton are still not at home. Goat milk shows up on our back step every morning, but neither Mama nor I have seen hide nor hair of them.
April 16, 1932. Daddy did not come home again today. He sent word with Mr. Sutton that the Railroad is having trouble with the hobos and they need every man to keep them in line. As much as we are glad when Daddy gets to work overtime, we are starting to miss him, and I can tell Mama is worried. It is not good that the hobos are getting out of hand and hurting people. I hope Daddy stays safe. It was bad enough when he got beat up last month. They might could hurt him bad.
I also wish he would get home and get busy with his still soon. We are about plumb out of whiskey. It will be nice when things get back to normal.
We have finished up with most of the planting so that Uncle Woodrow and Jasper can handle it from here on. I am sick to death of working and worrying over Darlene. The only good news is that we get to go back to school on Monday.
April 18, 1932. It is Monday, and I just realized I have not written in my journal to turn in to Miss Weston. We all are laying out of school because we just did not have it in us to go after what all happened. I will try to write it just as it happened, as near as I can tell it, anyway, because it is all so jumbled up in my mind that I am having a hard time sorting through what really went on.
Darlene stayed home this weekend because Billy Ray turned up on Friday and he decided she could not go over to Pap-pa’s house. I did not see her all day on Saturday, and now I wish we had sneaked her out of the house anyway.
Sunday started out really good because it was Miss Janey Jo’s birthday, and Mama decided we were going to spend the whole afternoon celebrating with Pap-pa and her and not do a lick of work. She said we all needed a true day of rest, and the best way to make that happen was not to even get near the fields all day. Then, before the day was over, it turned out to be horrible, more horrible than any I have ever had.
Miss Weston was at dinner with us, and we had a very fine time playing games afterward, then we ended up staying until late in the evening. We spent the afternoon looking at Pap-pa’s new calf and riding his old saddle horse, and then Pap-pa up and decided that we needed to do some target practice. Uncle Woodrow and Miss Weston went back into the house because neither one of them can stand being around guns. I was hoping that they might start courting when I saw them walking back together, but now I know better. Miss Weston is for sure struck on Uncle Woodrow. She smiled at him all evening, laughed at nearly everything he said, and once she reached over and poked at his shoulder, but he is not struck on her, I am sad to say. I know for a fact that he is struck on someone else, namely Mrs. Carlton.
I am getting ahead of myself. We practiced shooting at tin cans until it got too dark to see anymore. By the time we made it back, Janey Jo, Mama, and Miss Weston had already made supper, so we stayed until Ruby fell asleep on the floor and Beryl was yawning her head off. Mama finally said we had to get back because of it being a school day tomorrow, and Miss Weston offered to drive us home. It was a very tight squeeze, but we all got in. Mama and Uncle Woodrow sat in the front and held the little ones. I sat in the back with Jasper and Sardius. Beryl sat on Jasper’s lap. We giggled all the way home because we were all packed in so tight we hardly had room to breathe. That ride back was the last good thing I remember.
After that, it felt like the whole world caved in. One minute, we were riding along in Miss Weston’s fine car, laughing like we did not have a care in the world, and the next minute we were rolling into the yard, and Darlene was stumbling up from the back, screaming like a panther. Her dress was torn and bloody, too, and I could see she had bruises and bloody marks all up and down her arms and legs. We all jumped out of the car to tend to her, but she was so riled up we could not hardly understand a word she was saying at first. She just gasped and screamed, pulling on my arm, hollering something about Billy Ray trying to kill them. Mama rushed into the house with Sapphire and Ruby, but the rest of us took off running over to Darlene’s house.
We could hear the screams before we got to the creek. By the time we made it to the house, all I could hear was shrieks—shrieks from Darlene right beside me and shrieks from Beryl, who by this time, had caught the hysterics. And then there was Darlene’s mother, sitting in the middle of the floor, her bloody hands held out in front of her and shaking as if she had the palsy. Blood streamed out of a gash along her collarbone. Beside her lay a big black skillet smeared with blood. Billy Ray was sprawled over in the corner, his head lying in a puddle of blood. Beryl let out one more shriek, and then lit out for home.
All of a sudden, it seemed as if everything went into slow motion. Uncle Woodrow shoved me aside and threw himself at Mrs. Carlton, getting down on his knees in all that blood, gathered her up in his arms, and then sort of collapsed into her, sobbing and shaking, rocking her like a baby, covering her bloody head with kisses while she screamed and hollered. The rest of us stood rock-still, except Miss Weston, who grabbed onto the doorframe and slid to the floor, hanging onto that doorframe as if her knees had turned to water. She stared at Uncle Woodrow for a long time while he kissed Mrs. Carlton, and then she began to sob.
Then everything just went crazy. While we were all looking at Uncle Woodrow and Mrs. Carlton, Billy Ray came to. He pulled himself up to his knees, and then he staggered to his feet and lunged toward them. He had a knife clenched in his fist. Jasper saw it, too. Before Billy Ray had time to take a second step, Jasper tackled him. The knife skittered across the floor, finally stopping in a slow spin right beside Uncle Woodrow.
Billy Ray jumped up and took a swing at Jasper, but he ducked just in time. Sardius head-butted him in the stomach, but not hard enough to do any good. Billy Ray shoved him off, and just as he stood up straight again, something whizzed by me, and the next thing I knew, Billy Ray was standing still, looking at the knife sticking out of the middle of his chest. Uncle Woodrow still had one arm around Mrs. Carlton, who half lay in his lap, sobbing and quivering. The other arm was held out straight, as if it had been frozen when the knife left his hand. That arm was as still as stone, while the rest of him wailed and shook like he had the palsy. Then the arm that held the knife began to shake, too, until he fell face first onto the floor, weeping and shuddering, making noises like a trapped animal.
It is funny what I remember and what I do not. I do not remember Billy Ray falling, nor what Jasper, Sardius, or Darlene did after that. All I remember is poor Miss Weston looking at Uncle Woodrow and Mrs. Carlton with their arms around each other as if her heart was broken. She sat on the floor, staring for what seemed like a long, long time, where nobody spoke, until she finally shook herself and said. “We need to get these children out of here, and Mrs. Carlton needs attention,” and she held out her hand to Jasper to pull herself up.
Everybody but me started moving, but I could not remember how to pick up my feet. It felt like they had just grown to the floor. Sardius put his arm around Uncle Woodrow, coaxing him to get up, while Jasper gathered Mrs. Carlton in his arms and carried her out the door. Uncle Woodrow was not worth a hill of beans. He just kept stumbling and sliding back down to the floor, crying fit to be tied. Finally, Miss Weston went over to him, helped Sardius hoist him up, and pulled his arm over her shoulder.
“Come on, Woodrow,” she said. “This is no time to fall to pieces. We have to get Mrs. Carlton some help.”
I was so ascared I forgot to follow them out. The next thing I knew, I was standing alone on a bloody floor with a dead man at my feet, and I could not make it make any sense. In all the times that I had imagined Billy Ray dead, I had not seen anything like this. In my mind, I could see him as cold and still, and I could imagine saying, “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” but seeing him like this was far past what my mind had told me it could be like.
Somehow, Billy Ray dead was more real than he ever could have been when he was alive. He was hard and still, his muscles outlined underneath his soft, splotchy skin. The skin of his face and neck seemed tender, like a baby’s. His hands were rough, hairy, and bony, but at the same time, they seemed helpless, pitiful. All the meanness had left him, as if it had run out with his blood. I could not stitch it together in my mind that all that blood had been inside of him just a few minutes before, and he had been alive. Now his spirit had fled, and I did not want to know where it had gone.
As I looked at him, I thought that the right thing to do would be to take the knife out of his chest, but the thought of touching him turned my stomach. I made myself reach for it, but then it came to me that even if I took it out, he would still be dead. There was nothing I could do to help him at all. My knees went to jelly. I staggered out as fast as I could, but my legs just quit working. I fell off the porch and lay in the grass, gulping in great breaths of air, hoping that Jesus would forgive us for what we had done, but not being exactly sure what it was that we had done. It just seemed that evil had pushed its way inside us, and I was sorry we had not done anything to stop it. I wished I had never hated Billy Ray.
I laid out there in the grass beside the porch for some time, crying, praying, afraid for what would happen next. I tried to get up, but I was so sick and dizzy, I could not get my legs up under me. Just when I was beginning to think I would have to lie out there all night, I saw Jasper coming back for me. He walked up to where I lay, sat down beside me, and then he put his big, strong arm around my waist and hefted me up. He did not try to hurry me along, but he had to hold onto me because my legs were twitching so bad, I could not take a single solid step by myself.
We were nearly to the creek when all of a sudden, Jasper stopped, holding his breath as he looked around. “Shush,” he said, hustling me over to a pokeberry bush. After another second, he ran back to the house, pulled the door shut, then sprinted back to my hiding place in the pokeberry.
I could not understand why he was acting like that. “Listen, and be quiet,” he whispered, and after a few seconds, I could hear hushed noises coming through the woods. Three white figures came out of the darkness of the woods—men wearing sheets. One was very tall, and I knew him to be Sam. Another did not have the sheet over his head, but wore a bandana tied around his face. That was Hank, the one who had the meanest spirit toward Darlene. I could tell because of the bandana and the way he walked, sort of hunched over. He carried the same cross I had seen before. They came on as quiet as cats, creeping and stopping to listen, until they stood in front of Billy Ray’s dark house, not five feet away from us. I was trembling so hard I could hear the leaves of the pokeberry bush rustling around me. Jasper kept his arm tight around my waist, hunkering down over me as if he could protect me. He kept his hand over my mouth for a minute, until I felt like he was smothering me and I pushed it away. I knew better than to make a sound.
“Be quiet,” Sam said. “We want to be out of here before they wake up.” He took the cork off a jug and doused kerosene all over the cross while another one of them dug a hole with a spade. I could smell it, strong and sharp, like the breath of the devil. When the cross was good and soaked, they dropped it into the hole, scotched it up with rocks, then tossed a match. It went up in blue flames. As the fire whooshed up, swallowing up the cross, the men lit out toward the woods.
It was an awful sight, that cross on fire, the flames spewing up into the black sky, the smell of kerosene strong in the cool night air, and I all I could think of was Jesus hanging on that cross and burning, while evil men stood nearby, casting lots and jeering. I wanted to scream, but no sounds came out of my throat except for some gasping sobs, and then Jasper’s hand was over my mouth again and he was dragging me out of the pokeberry bush and across the creek, through the woods, and on up to our little house, all lit up with light and voices.
I do not know what happened after that for a while. I just sort of blanked out, and then Mama’s hand was on my forehead and she was holding a cup of whiskey to my mouth. I choked some of it down, and although it tasted awful, it gave me a warm feeling in my stomach, and after a minute, I felt back to myself a little. Darlene sat beside me, holding my hand and crying, while Mrs. Carlton half-sat, half lay on a chair at the kitchen table. Her eyes were closed. She moaned a little bit, then fell quiet. Uncle Woodrow sat beside her, holding her hand, shaking bad enough to rattle the whole house
“Are you feeling better now, Pearl?” Mama asked. I nodded, not sure if I could speak. She looked at me real close, stroked back my hair, and smiled at me, her eyes sweet and gentle. “Good. I need to finish stitching Mrs. Carlton up before the laudanum wears off,” and she put my hand in Jasper’s, walked over to where Mrs. Carlton lay, and picked up a needle that had been lying on her collarbone. As calm as could be, she took to stitching. Mrs. Carlton moaned and cried out, but Mama did not seem to notice. She just kept on sewing while Mrs. Carlton cried and Uncle Woodrow sat beside her and shook.
The whiskey was making me feel better, enough so that I was able to look around. Miss Weston sat on the couch, holding both Sapphire and Ruby in her lap. Darlene and Beryl huddled on either side of her. Jasper hovered over me until I waved him away. He was making me feel smothery. Sardius was nowhere to be seen.
Miss Weston spoke up, “Jasper, can you build us a fire? Darlene is cold. And is there any more of that whiskey left?” Jasper handed the cup to her, and I could not hardly believe my eyes when she took that cup and took a big swallow before giving a sip to Darlene. She set Ruby down, put Sapphire in Beryl’s arms, and crossed over to Uncle Woodrow.
“Drink a little of this, Woodrow. I find that it can help in times like this,” she said as she cupped her hand around the back of his head and tilted the cup up to his lips. He drank it, and I wondered if maybe I was having a dream, where nothing was normal. Nobody was behaving anything like I expected them to. Mama calm as ice while she sewed up a moaning woman, Miss Weston serving whiskey to everybody as if it were a tea party. Uncle Woodrow scared to death, but sitting right there in the living room, not running out the door.
Jasper built a fire, even though it was as warm as an April night can be, for Darlene was shivering enough to rattle her bones, although I think the whiskey had quieted her down a bit. A little while later, Sardius came in with Pap-pa and Miss Janey Jo. As soon as they got here, Jasper pulled them out to the porch, where they stayed out talking for a few minutes, then Miss Janey Jo came back in to sit with the rest of us, and we waited, not knowing what was going to happen, fearful to sit, and yet afraid to go out. It was as quiet as the grave, except for Mrs. Carlton’s moanings and Uncle Woodrow’s occasional gasp for breath. Miss Weston settled in the corner with Sapphire, staring at the fire for a long, long time. Miss Janey-Joe cuddled up to Darlene and Beryl, with Ruby on her lap. Mama laid another blanket on the little girls and took me in her arms, holding me and stroking my forehead, which quieted my heart. Uncle Woodrow held Mrs. Carlton’s hand. No one said a word while we waited for Jasper, Sardius, and Pap-pa to return.
They came in through the back door much later. Pap-pa stood in the open doorway, looking big and calm, then he leaned against the doorjamb as he flickered his eyes over at Miss Weston. “Ladies, we need to pray,” He said. “It may be that the Lord has shown us a way out of the bind that we find ourselves in tonight.” Everyone gathered around, and Pap-pa knelt in front of the fire and prayed a short, simple prayer: “Lord, we can’t help but think this is Your will. Tell us if it isn’t.” Then he got up as everybody started whispering in urgent, soft voices. I could not hear what they said, but I did not care. I was so tired that I closed my eyes for just a minute, and when I opened them again, they had all stopped talking. Miss Janey Jo was sorting through the woodpile.
“No, Janey Jo. There is no need for you to go,” Pap-pa said. Janey Jo laughed. “Don’t you think for one minute that we will let you boys go and have all the fun,” she said as she pulled out three sticks of fatwood. She handed one to Miss Weston and one to Mama.
I fell asleep again after that, and the next thing I knew, I was lying in my bed with Darlene and Beryl beside me, and daylight was coming in through a fine mist of rain, along with the barest whiff of charred wood. Mama was shaking Darlene and me awake.
It is still April 18, and I have much more to tell about what happened, although it seems like a week has gone since Uncle Woodrow killed Billy Ray. We are not at school because Mama said we needed our sleep, and besides, the Sheriff would likely want to talk to us.
Mama waited for us to rub the sleep out of our eyes before she sent Beryl downstairs. “Miss Janey Jo and Pap-pa are here,” she told her. “And after breakfast, they are going to take you home with them so Miss Janey Jo can help you start that new dress she has been promising you.”
Beryl jumped right up and scuttled downstairs. Darlene and I started to get up, too, but Mama stopped us. She sat down on the side of the bed, laid her hands on our arms, and spoke to us in that sweet voice of hers.
She told us that the Sheriff had come by last night, and they had filled him in on what had happened. He had wanted to wake us, but she told him we were all so tired from all the excitement of Janey Jo’s birthday that we would not be able to make any sense. I am very glad she did not let him wake us. I was not sure what I should tell him. I did not want him to know that Uncle Woodrow had flat-out killed Billy Ray dead. He would surely get the electric chair for that.
“The Sheriff will be coming back,” she told us. When he does, he will want to talk to you both, and you will need to tell him the important things that he needs to hear. Pearl, I want you to tell him what has been happening to Darlene and her mother for the past few weeks. About those men who have been bothering them. Now, you need to go over it in your mind. Can you tell me exactly what you have seen?”
I started to tell her about how Otis’s clan had come to the house to make Billy Ray treat Darlene and her mother better, but she stopped me.
“There is no need to let on why you think those men came. You do not need to be dragging Otis Merriweather into this. It will be hard on him and his mother if they get involved. Let’s just stick to what you saw at Darlene’s house, not what you and Otis talked about or what you thought, all right?”
I thought that was wise. Otis could get into a lot of trouble if it came out that he knew anything about this, and he could not help it if things turned out different than he expected. I thought about it, then said, “Some men came asking about Billy Ray.”
“That’s right,” Mama nodded. “And how were they dressed?”
“At first they wore regular clothes, but then they changed into sheets with eye holes cut in them. One of them couldn’t see through his eye holes, so he wore a bandana.”
She laid her hand on my arm again. “The Sheriff does not need to know that you saw them in regular clothes or indicate in any way that you might be able to recognize them if you saw them again. If you do, you might be putting Otis and his family in trouble.
Mama was right. There was no need to tell that I saw their automobiles or that one wore a bandana because he could not see through his eye-holes or that one of the others had called him “Hank.” I ran the scene through my mind, careful with my words. “They wore sheets. One of them carried a big wood cross.”
Mama asked me how many times they had come. I reckoned there were four times, because that is all I saw them, but they could have come more. Darlene kept quiet. I could tell she was too ascared to say anything.
“So you saw them come to Mrs. Carlton’s house four times? Where were you when you saw all this? What did they do each time?”
“The first time they came, I was on my way to Darlene’s house. I saw them coming through the woods, but they didn’t see me. I hid behind a tree and watched them.”
I told her how they had knocked on the door, then went around the house peeking in the windows and how they just left when they figured no one was home.
“That’s good, Pearl. And how about the next time?”
I told about how they came the second time and how I was ascared of them so I had climbed up on the roof so I could see what all went on without them seeing me. I described how Mrs. Carlton had come to the door, looking ascared and how they tried to get her to let them in but she would not, saying her husband was not home and she would not let them in as long as he was away. Then they stood on the porch and said some nasty things about her and Darlene. I talked about how they had knocked on the door again and I got so ascared for Darlene and about what they might do to her that I shimmied down off the roof and told them there was no need to come back, that Billy Ray was not at home much these days.
Mama frowned. “Maybe you should not say you talked to them or that they saw you. I am sure the Sheriff is a good man, but he might not be thinking about your safety. He might mention to the wrong people that there was a witness, and that could put you in danger. These are evil men, Pearl. They might hurt you if they think you know too much. Can you just say they went away on their own?”
I realized that since Otis’ uncle was the Sheriff over in Madison county, maybe he was in on some of this. It about made my hair stand on end, and right then and there, I realized that more was at stake than any of us could ever imagine. Uncle Woodrow might be blamed for everything. He could get the electric chair, and the rest of us might be staring in the face of the devil himself. I stopped, thinking it through before I told her about how they had come back to ask to see Darlene and how one of them tore Mrs. Carlton’s necklace off her neck and then grabbed at her titty, and how the other one pulled him away and apologized, and how Darlene had been so scared and how Mrs. Carlton had cried.
Mama looked at Darlene. “Darlene, sweetheart,” she said. “Is that right? Do you remember it the same way so that you could tell the Sheriff just how it happened the way Pearl has said?” Darlene nodded. “Do you have anything else to add to what Pearl has told me?” Darlene began to cry as she shook her head.
“I was real scared,” she said.
Mama petted her on the head. “I’m sure you were, honey. I would be, too. Now, Pearl, tell me about the last time you saw these men.”
I started telling about how I had been lying in the yard because I was too weak and trembly to move after Uncle Woodrow had killed Billy Ray, but I caught myself before I got any of it out. I took a breath and started again, speaking slowly, making it up as I went.
“I went to Darlene’s house.”
Mama smiled and nodded. “Yes, you and Jasper went over there because we had run out of firewood. Darlene and her mother were here all evening, and Mrs. Carlton told you to run over to her house and get some so we could make some popcorn. Isn’t that right?”
“But Mama, we have firewood in the woodshed. What if the Sheriff checks?”
Mama smiled. “No, sweetheart. We burned all we had left for supper. There might have been a little bit the last time you checked, but I used almost all of it doing the washing.”
I knew for good and well that was a flat-out lie, but Mama’s face was as smooth and untroubled as an angel’s. It was easy to change my thinking and believe we had gone to get some wood from Billy Ray’s woodpile. “Yes,” I said. “But as we were walking back, we saw them coming through the woods. There were just three of them this time, and they were carrying that big cross and a jug of kerosene,” then I just told the rest of the story as it happened, until I realized that the law would wonder why we let the house burn up with Billy Ray in it. “Shouldn’t we have gone over there and done something?”
Mama just smiled, “Why, honey, we were afraid of those men! We are just women and children. Your father is in Maryville, Uncle Woodrow and Sardius were at his place, and Jasper had to ride over and get them and Pap-pa to help us. By the time everyone got here, the place was in flames and there was nothing we could do. Besides, we had no idea Billy Ray was in the house. When Mrs. Carlton and Darlene came over for supper, he had been out all day, and they did not expect him back. He often stays out all night, being as how he has a drinking problem. It appears that he came home sometime during the evening and passed out in the house.”
I am no fool. I knew what she was up to. None of us wants Uncle Woodrow to get the electric chair, and we had to get our story straight, but I was flabbergasted at how Mama could sit right beside me, as sweet as can be and lie her head off. I have never known her to tell a lie, not ever, even when it would make things easier if she did. But here she was, straight-faced, looking me right in the eye as she made up one story after another. She ignored my surprised look and went right on. “By the time they all got here it was too late. The house was in flames. Of course, you girls had all gone to bed by then, and you did not see any of the really bad part.”
“But what about that cut on Mrs. Carlton’s collarbone? How are we going to explain that?
“No one will see anything under her dress. She is tired and weak, though, because she is so scared and upset over her husband being burned to death, and the whole ordeal has taken its toll on her. The Sheriff probably will not bother her too much and will rely on what you, Darlene, and Jasper have to say.” She stood up. “Now, let’s go on down to breakfast. Miss Janey Jo and Pap-pa are here. We want to be sure we remember everything right when the Sheriff gets here.”
We went on downstairs. Miss Janey Jo hugged me, and so did Uncle Woodrow. “You are a very brave and a very smart girl,” Miss Janey Jo said, “and we are proud of you.” Uncle Woodrow just petted me on the head with a quivering hand and fought back tears. Mrs. Carlton tried to smile at us even though her face was trembly.
There was a big breakfast spread on the table: salted ham with eggs, biscuits and gravy, and plenty of butter and jelly. We all sat down, and Pap-pa prayed. He said, “Lord, we thank you for giving us deliverance. We know you have pulled us from the gates of fire, from the evil intent of men. You have blessed us beyond measure. Help us to deserve what you have done for us this day.”
Uncle Woodrow did not eat much. He shook so hard when he lifted his coffee cup to his mouth, he spilled some all over his shirt. Mama just smiled at him. “Woodrow has difficulty with fire or any kind of violence. Just knowing that the Carltons have been threatened has brought on some very bad memories from the war.”
Beryl spoke up, “Poor Uncle Woodrow. When he saw Mrs. Carlton screaming and bleeding, and Billy Ray lying on the floor, he just. . .” Mama cut her off. “
“Beryl, you did not go to Darlene’s house last night. You were in bed asleep during the whole ordeal.”
Beryl said, “But Mama!” and Mama leaned over and said,
“You were so tired that I took you up to bed myself. If you think you saw anything, it must have just been a bad dream. You may have awakened when the fire got going and it is all jumbled up in your head. ”
It was a good thing Beryl had run off before she had had a chance to see the really bad part. I spoke up, “Yes, I woke up, too, and I could see the fire through the trees. Beryl was crying in her sleep, saying something about Mrs. Carlton being hurt. I knew she was having a dream. She does that a lot.”
Beryl did not catch on. “But Mama!” she said. “I know what I saw,” but Miss Janey Jo cut her off.
“Beryl, I am looking forward to getting started on that dress. Hurry up and finish your breakfast so we can get on over there,” Beryl likes nothing better than sewing up new clothes for herself, and she suddenly forgot all about the night before.
We were just finishing up when Jasper sat up straight, made a little gasping sound, and said, “I just realized…” His eyes went wild as he groped for words. Janey Jo pushed back from the table.
“Let’s go get you dressed so we can leave now,” she said to Beryl. We’ll take the wagon, and Pap-pa can walk back when he is ready.” As she hustled Beryl up the ladder to the loft, Jasper whispered, “We left the k-n-i-f-e in him.” I felt my heart just about jump out of my chest. The last time I had seen that knife, it was sticking out of Billy Ray’s chest, and I was talking myself out of taking it out of him.
Everyone froze. We had all plumb forgotten about the knife! Pap-pa jumped up and tore out the back door, followed by Jasper and Sardius. Uncle Woodrow put his head down on his arm and cried. Mrs. Carlton looked as if she were about to cry, too. How could we have forgotten something as important as the knife? I could feel the blood leave my face. Darlene broke out in big sobs.
We waited for a long time, and when Pap-pa and the boys did not come back, Mama finally told me to run over there and see what was keeping them. Darlene wanted to come with me, but her mother stopped her. “You don’t need to be over there, cherie. Last night was bad enough, and it may upset you to see the house burned down. You just stay with me.” So I went over there by myself.
The Sheriff’s car was parked out in the yard, and four of his men poked through what was left of Billy Ray’s house. It had burned clear down, although part of the floor still was strong enough to hold them, and two of the walls still partly stood, but most of the walls had collapsed in on it, and the roof, too. The burnt remains of that cross lay over on the front porch. The fire was completely out, thanks to the rain that had been falling since early this morning, but smoke still curled out of some of the piles here and there. Billy Ray’s body lay over by the well, covered up with a sack. His feet stuck out, and I could see that he was lying on his back, but it was obvious there was no knife in his chest. I wondered if there was any hope that he had burned up so much the knife had fallen out.
Pap-pa and one of the Sheriff’s men lifted a big, charred beam and threw it aside, then poked around through the rubble. Nobody paid any attention to me, but I was afeared to go join the search. I did not know what I would do if I happened to stumble across the knife. “What are you all looking for?” I called out.
Pap-pa glanced up. “Nothing, honey. You can go on back home. We are just checking the scene to see what we can see.” He added, casual like, “It looks like Billy Ray died of smoke inhalation. He probably died without ever waking up. It’s a pity he let himself get so drunk. People who drink like that usually come to a bad end.”
That lightened my heart. Nobody had found the knife yet, but still, I was beside myself with worry, and I could not stay still, so I sort of wandered around in the yard. The big spruce at the back of the house still stood, but it was mostly a charred hulk. I knew it would not live, and somehow that made me sadder than seeing the smoldering remains of Darlene’s house.
The whole place stank of brimstone. It made me think about Billy Ray burning in hell. I sure had hated him, and he deserved whatever punishment God was choosing to dish out to him, but it made me feel sweaty and hot to actually connect in my mind Billy Ray suffering in the eternal fire.
I feel sick and dizzy just thinking about it. A lot more happened, but I cannot think straight enough to write it down.
Warm, waxing days; rain freshens the earth.
Death has come to claim his own.
Evil and Good have vanished together in smoke.
I hear the sobs of the stranger, locked out of tenderness,
I taste the fear of the woman, singing in harmony with hope,
The terror that rages and flames,
The dread that weighs like icy steel.
Green has crumbled into dust.
April 18, 1932.
My dear sister,
I am utterly, utterly undone. All this school year, I have believed that I am ministering to the people of this place, that I have been accepted and loved, and that I have a home here among the people of these beautiful mountains. But I have been deluded and deceived. I have deluded and deceived myself. I am not loved, am not accepted. I have done no good here. All I can think of is that I must get away. I have to get back home to safety and the arms of those who truly love me.
I cannot tell you what has happened, at least not yet. I do not trust myself to recount it correctly, and I do not want you to know the worst of it. Let me step back and find a moment to breathe before I divulge the source of my pain and sorrow. I tell you this much only to ask you to please pray for my deliverance from this heartbreak, from the terrible pain I feel. I am sick to my soul.
Emily
April 19, I think. I believe it is Tuesday. Mama let us sleep late this morning. I did not wake up until it was full daylight. Darlene was still asleep, so I dragged myself down the ladder to the kitchen, where Jasper, Sardius, and Ruby were just finishing up breakfast. Mrs. Carlton and Uncle Woodrow were not there. Beryl is still over at Pap-pa’s house.
Mama told me that the Sheriff would be wanting to talk to me this afternoon, and we went over what all I would be telling him, then we went up to the loft and woke up Darlene and went over the story again. Mama did not hardly have to say a word while Darlene and I talked. She just nodded and smiled. We had it all straight.
I went to the outhouse right after breakfast. It was such a beautiful morning, it almost made me forget what had happened, except for the lingering smell of wet char in the air. It was hard to make it straight in my mind that such awful things had gone on, and I felt so heavy with grief, I did not want to go back to the house, where there were so many bad thoughts and fears. I wandered up the creek, as far as I could get from Billy Ray’s house, from the smell of the burned wood. I climbed up the hill up past the beech grove to look out at the sun shining on the river so pretty, just like it always has. Behind me was a jumble of badness, but in front of me, it did not seem that a single, solitary thing had changed. It was almost easy to believe it was just another spring day, full of birdsong and sunshine.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a fog rolled in and it began to rain, one of those fine, drizzly mists that make you feel like you are in a cloud. Something caught my eye as I gazed out toward the river, but when I looked again, I did not see a thing. A minute later, I glanced up again and saw Jake Hatton hiding behind a tree, sticking his head out just enough to peek around it. When he saw me looking at him, he grinned as he motioned for me to come over. I shook my head. We were scraping the bottom of Daddy’s whiskey stash, and I did not dare try to take any more. Also, I was afraid that the Sheriff might come by and see me talking to him. It would not be good if he found out my business with Jake Hatton.
He motioned again. I shook my head again, and finally, he jerked his arm hard, telling me I had better follow him, and then he disappeared into the rhododendron hell to get out of the rain, which by now had turned into a steady drizzle.
I realized I had better mind him. If I did not, he might tattle on me to the Sheriff, and that was the last thing I needed. I followed him a little ways in, along a crooked path, and before I got too far, I saw him crouched down amid a tangle of swollen pink buds, grinning at me. He patted the ground beside him, and I sat down. His hat was pulled down over his face, his collar turned up against the wet.
I said, “Jake, I told you, I don’t have a drop of whiskey to sell you right now. It’s almost gone, and Daddy will kill me if he knows I’ve been selling it to you. And if he does, you’ll never get another drop from me!” I hoped that would keep him quiet.
He grinned at me, winking and twitching. “You got secrets, little A-hole? Huh? Huh? A-hole. A-hole?” I stomped my foot. He was making me mad.
“You quit cussing at me, Jake Hatton, or I will never sell you another drop!’
He hung his head. “Sorry, G.D. it. It won’t stop, G.D. it. A-hole. A-hole.”
“Shut up!” I hollered, but as I looked at him close up, I could see a world of sadness in his face. The whole right side twitched as if he was in pain, while his eyes looked like wells full of hurt. Water had gathered in the corners.
“So sorry, G.D. it,” he kept muttering, while a tear slipped down his cheek, and then he started to sob, and he tried to reach in his pocket, but by then he was twitching around so much that he seemed to forget what he was reaching for and got all involved with his twitching. It was then I realized that he truly could not help it. Jake Hatton had not been to war, so he was not suffering from shell shock, but he sure was suffering from something. I stopped to wait for him to get over it.
Finally, he quit twitching long enough to reach into his pocket, and Lo and Behold! He pulled out a bloody knife that looked like the very one that I had last seen in Billy Ray’s chest. “You want this, little A-hole,” he said, then he chucked it down at my feet. I sat looking at it a long time.
“What is this?” I asked him, careful not to give away my feelings.
“I saw the G.D. clan. I saw them, G.D it. I saw them, and I saw all of it. I figured you didn’t want the G.D. law to find it.”
I picked it up, and when I looked at him again, he was grinning that crooked grin of his, his eye winking so hard that the whole side of his face jerked, and then he reached out, and ever so lightly, he petted my head with a twitchy finger. “I got me some whiskey,” he said. “Not as good as yourn, but I’m G.D. okay for now. You be careful, now. You don’t want them after you,” and then he turned and crawled out of the rhododendron, into the rain and the mist between the trees.
By the time I got back to the house, Pap-pa was there. He looked worried and wet, and he smelled like soot, so I knew he had been back over to Billy Ray’s house looking for the knife. I called him out to the back porch. You should have seen the look of relief that came over his face when I pulled that knife out of my pocket! His eyes, bloodshot with soot and lack of sleep welled up. He did not say a word, he just reached out and folded his arms around me, pulling me to him. I could smell the soot and the sweat on him, and my heart began to sing like a bird. With Pap-pa on my side, I know nothing bad will ever happen.
Later on, after dinner, the Sheriff came by. We all were on the back porch eating some hoecakes and strawberry preserves that Mama had brought out to us.
He was a fat, greasy-looking man, and the minute I laid eyes on him, I felt a meanness about him. Jasper got up and stood behind me while Pap-pa eased up to me and Darlene with a meaningful look in his eye.
“Pearl,” he said, “the Sheriff wants to talk to you two about what’s been going on here the past few weeks. I told them that some men had been bothering Darlene and her mother, and they want to clear a few things up.” He and the boys settled down on the porch steps while the Sheriff came and stood right over Darlene and me. He was big, and he stood way too close. I got the feeling that he did not like me or Darlene and he wanted to scare us.
I was determined not to be ascared, but I could tell Darlene was frightened because she was shaking so bad she was practically rattling the chair. I got up, stepping between him and Darlene. My knees were shaking, too, but I was bound and determined that Sheriff was not going to see it, and I for sure was not going to let him loom up over Darlene and scare her even more.
“I’ll tell it,” I said, looking him in the eye as brazen as I could be. “Darlene was so ascared by those men she can’t hardly even think about it without falling to pieces.” And then I started in at the beginning, telling the story I had pieced together and practiced in my head. I did not say too much, leaving out everything but exactly what I saw and heard once those men showed up in their white sheet getups. I could tell Pap-pa was proud of me. He was looking at the ground while I talked, but there was a little smile around the corners of his mouth. I could not see Mama. She was behind Darlene and me, quiet as a cat, but when I got to the part about how the man had grabbed Mrs. Carlton by the titty, I felt her lay her hand on my shoulder.
The Sheriff asked a few questions, but mainly he just looked at me, nodding, looking grim and a little bit worried. I could see him thinking, and I wondered if he knew Otis’ uncle, the Sheriff over in Madisonville, who was family to the Cluecluckers.
Finally, the Sheriff just nodded, thanked me for my cooperation, and asked Darlene if she had anything to add to what I had told. She looked at him very ascared-like, and shook her head, but added, “They scared me real bad, sir. They were mean, and they hurt my mama and made her cry.”
I expected him to maybe feel sorry for her, but I could tell that he did not. In his eyes, there was a look that said he did not like her, that she did not matter, that she had no rights to be making complaints against anyone who would hurt her, and he was mad that he was forced to believe that the Clueclukers had done wrong. We let him know we were willing to swear on a stack of Bibles that they had tried to hurt an innocent woman and child and burned down their home, and when it all shook out, he knew he would have to at least make a show of trying to put things to rights.
In the beginning, I thought that if we told him everything that had happened, he would have to do the right thing, but as I looked at him, I realized that those Cluecluckers just might get away with everything. The Sheriff was on their side, and it burned me up so much that I did not feel at all bad that we had fudged the story just that little bit. If we had given him the least suspicion about Uncle Woodrow, it is likely they would have found a way to pin it all on him—everything, including the fire—and those mean S.O.Bs would be free to keep on doing exactly what they had done to Darlene and her mother.
It still burns me up every time I think about it.
April 20, 1932
My dearest Cecilia,
My soul is heavily burdened. I still am unable to write about what has happened here. I will let it suffice to say that there has been violence and I have been a witness to it. It also has awakened in me a strong realization that I am not the kind, helpful person that I thought I was when I first came here. There is evil in my heart. I had thought I was coming here to help the people of this community to grow in the light of God’s love and to shed my own light of learning to the children. I did not realize that I was arrogant and condescending, that I was coming from a place of privilege, and that I would be hurting the very people I thought I had come to help.
Father has done us a disservice. Our whole community in Chicago has done us a disservice. They have made us believe we are superior to people who struggle simply to survive. Our wealth and our education have made us think we are of a special, chosen group, and if we deign to stoop low enough to help those less fortunate, then we should be elevated even higher than we already are. What a foolish, arrogant notion! In reality, we all are such sinners, believing we are better than any other of God’s creatures.
At present, I am heartbroken and so discouraged I do not know what to do, except beg forgiveness, pack my things, and come home to the arms and hearth of my loving family. I realize now that I have been callous and unfeeling toward Jonathan, using him and his good nature to further my own selfish goals. I have to beg his forgiveness for the way I have treated him.
Oh, Cecilia! Please pray for me that God will show me a way to atone for my excessive pride!
With a broken heart,
Emily
April 21, 1932. We went back to school today. Miss Weston is as nice as always, but she seems very tired and very sad. She has dark smudges under her eyes, and she moves as if she is swimming in molasses. At dinnertime, I wanted to talk to her a little bit, just to let her know how much I appreciate what she has done for us, but when I saw her up close, her eyes were so red, I could not bring myself to mention it. I wonder if we will ever be able to talk about what has happened. I know she must feel terrible about the part she played in saving my Uncle Woodrow from the electric chair, but I hope she knows how much we all love her for it. I am glad we did not tell the Sheriff that she was there that night. I cannot imagine her being able to lie for us.
It is the full moon tonight. It is time to plant sweet potatoes. Jasper got up and went out to get an early start this morning. I wonder how he had the energy to go plant after all we had been through. Sometimes I think it is not worth it to try to scratch a living out of dirt. I hope he passes those tests with flying colors. This farm will break him down into an old man before his time. I have not seen Uncle Woodrow for days. We figure he will be back soon, and if he is not, I will be mad at him. I think Mrs. Carlton needs him more than she needs Darlene right now.
Darlene and Mrs. Carlton are staying over at Pap-pa’s house for the time being.
April 22, 1932. Just when I thought things could not get worse, they did. Sardius, Beryl, and I were in school this morning, when Jasper came running in to tell us to come home. Daddy had been in a bad fight with those hobos, and it looked like he might not live. We got home as fast as we could.
Pap-pa, Janey Jo, Uncle Woodrow, Mrs. Carlton, and Darlene, were all sitting in the living room. Mrs. Carlton held Sapphire in her arms, and Ruby was sitting on Pap-pa’s lap. They jumped up when we came in, and Janey Jo held out her arms to us. We all started crying. From the looks on everyone’s faces, I knew it was bad.
It was a little while before they let us into the bedroom to see Daddy. Mama was kneeling beside the bed, lost in prayer. She had her head on his hand, stroking his arm as she prayed. Daddy lay still as death, white beneath the bruises. His arm was in a sling with a splint, and one of his legs laid out on top of the bed covers. It was splinted and bound, too. A big bandage was wrapped around the top of his head.
Mama moved to the chair when we came in. She just looked at us as if she could not bear the sadness, then looked at Daddy again and stroked his hand.
“Come and kiss your daddy, children,” she said, and we stood in line to lean over him and kiss him between the bruises and bandages. Then we stood around, not knowing what to say or think. I did not know it would hurt this bad to see Daddy this bad off, knowing he might die.
April 22, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
Things are getting more painful here every day. This week, Mr. Richard Wallace was attacked by a gang of men who have been riding the train illegally. Mr. Wallace’s job is to keep them off the railroad property, and apparently, they have become extremely resentful to the point that they have attacked railroad personnel.
Mr. Wallace is near death, I am told. I have not been by to see him or the family yet. I do not feel it is my place to intrude during their time of hardship. I will wait a few days to see how things develop before I go. If the poor man dies, I do not know how the family will survive. The boys have scholarships to attend Wheaton Academy beginning with the summer term, but if they leave, the farm will not be tended, and I do not know how Mrs. Wallace will fare by herself. She has very young children, and she is not strong enough to run a farm by herself.
Cecilia, life here is so very, very hard! I do not think I have it in me to withstand the terrors or the hardships anyone who lives here must face on a daily basis. Please continue to pray for me. I feel so lost and incompetent! I see now how foolish I was to think I could ever improve the lives of these people.
Love and tears,
Emily
April 23, 1932. Mrs. Carlton and Darlene spent the day here today. Mama did not let us girls go out to the fields today. She said Beryl and I should just play with Darlene and try to be happy, but we could not be happy. The boys and Uncle Woodrow worked in the fields all day by themselves. Mrs. Carlton cooked supper so Mama could sit with Daddy.
I have not been this sad since the baby boy that Mama brought home three years ago died.
April 24, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
I think I have preached my last sermon. The Reverend and Mrs. Miller have returned, and his health is much improved. He let me know that he is ready to get back into the pulpit. I am glad about that. I feel so disheartened I was not up to doing a good job today. I just gave a lackluster sermon about how God wants us to be kind to one another.
I am quite sure I will be coming home at the end of the term. Life here is just too hard to bear. I look forward to getting back into my old life, seeing my old friends, and most of all, dear Cecilia, to spending time with you! And I am wracking my brain to try to find a way to help the children I have come to love so much.
I love you,
Emily
My father was attacked by a gang of ruffians who beat him up badly, broke his arm and his leg, and bashed his head in. We do not know if he is going to live. The doctor says that he has some swelling in his brain and that if he lives, he may not ever be able to talk or even move again. My mother sits by the bed day and night. She wipes his face with a washrag and she prays over him all the time. I have not seen her cry yet, but her eyes are red and swollen, so I know she is crying when we do not see her. We are all so sad, we do not know what to do.
All our neighbors are very nice. They have come to bring food. Mrs. Carlton, my best friend’s mother, comes every day to take care of my baby sister Sapphire, and my step-grandmother takes care of Ruby. Mrs. Bittertree came by with a cake today. Mr. Bittertree offered to help with planting potatoes. My grandfather and my Uncle Woodrow also are helping as much as they can.
I am praying for my father to live and to be well. I know he is saved, so if he dies, I am not in fear for his soul. But I do not want him to die.
April 27, 1932. Mama sent Beryl and me to school, but Sardius stayed home to help get the sweet potatoes in. When I got home today, I went in to see Daddy. I stared at him a long time before I reached out to touch his cheek, and he woke up. At first, he looked at me like he did not know me. Then his eyes lit up and he tried to reach out to me, although his hand would not move. He gave out a long cry, like he was trying to tell me something important, but I could not make any sense of it.
Mama came in with some soup so I could feed him. Jasper helped to drag him up on the pillows a little bit, and then I spooned some soup into his mouth, but most if it dribbled out and down his chin. My heart is breaking because my Daddy might die. I hope he knows I love him, even though I have been mad at him for most of my life.
April 27, 1932
Dear Jonathan,
I was happy to get your letter today. I know I have been remiss in writing you, but it has been a very hard time for us all here. I have told you about the Wallace family. The father, Richard, has been injured very badly and may not live. Their neighbor’s home has been burned to the ground, and the owner, Billy Ray Carlton, died in the fire. We have a mother and child homeless and fatherless, and another family on the brink of being fatherless. I feel worthless and helpless to do anything.
Jonathan, I realize now that I have no place here. I do not belong here. In my arrogance, I inserted myself into this place, into the lives of these self-sufficient and good people, thinking I could civilize and instruct them. I was so wrong! They were gracious to accept me, but they have always stood apart from me—they have no need or desire for anything I can do for them.
I am ashamed to think how my pride has come between you and me. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I have repaid you with my foolish snobbery. Please forgive me for treating you so badly. I hope you do not hold my deplorable behavior against me.
Sincerely,
Emily
Warm, waxing days, greening earth
Hope lies in shards.
Love struggles through pain.
My upright ones suffer with broken hearts and broken bodies.
I wait, tasting the grief and the yearning.
April 28, 1932. I feel bad going to school when Sardius cannot because of the planting. Jasper has not been studying for his exams, either, and Mama goes out to the fields to work in between taking care of Daddy and Sapphire. Mrs. Carlton is a big help, but she is trying to plant her own garden.
April 29, 1932. Miss Weston is worried about Sardius missing so much school. She brought Beryl and me home in her automobile so she could go over his lessons with him. When we got home, everyone was still out in the field. Uncle Woodrow had gone to help Pap-pa, so it was just Sardius, Jasper, and Mama. Mama had tied Sapphire up to the apple tree so she could not get into anything while Ruby tended to her. Mama is particular about her babies and she always makes sure they are tied up good and proper to keep them from scooching away.
Ruby had gotten into a mud puddle, and of course, had completely forgotten about taking care of Sapphire. Her dress was just covered with mud. Thank goodness she was barefooted, or she would have soaked her shoes. When we got to them, Sapphire had a big fistful of dirt she was putting in her mouth. We were too late to stop her, so I had to try to rake it out as best as I could. She eats dirt every chance she gets, and it is a constant trial to Mama. I was mad at Ruby for not tending to her, but Ruby looked so sweet, looking up at me through all the mud on her face, her big, blue eyes just shining, that I could not bless her out.
Mama and Jasper came over when they saw us. They were so tired, they could hardly stand, and they were ragged and dirty, too. Mama’s hair stuck to her head from all the sweat, and Jasper looked as if he needed to be propped up. I felt just terrible, knowing that I had not been here to help them. I might not be worth much in the fields, but I could at least have tended to Ruby and Sapphire, and I could take care of Daddy, also.
Beside them, Miss Weston looked like she had stepped out of the catalogue. She had on a pure white blouse, a soft gray skirt, and a wide belt that cinched her waist in so pretty. She had on her lavender hat with the netting that came down over her face, and her shoes were shining and clean. I wanted to tell her not to step out into the field so as not to get them dirty, but before I could, she swooped over to pick up Sapphire, and got dirt all over her blouse and skirt.
Mama about died. She reached for Sapphire, but Miss Weston pulled the baby away, saying, “Mrs. Wallace, please let me help. I have done nothing all day but be in the classroom with your precious children while you have been laboring in the fields. Why don’t you let me take these babies into the house and get them cleaned up for you?”
Tears came into Mama’s eyes. She was both scundered and grateful. Then tears came into Miss Weston’s eyes, and she suddenly turned to Beryl and me and said, “Come, girls. Let us go start some supper for your family. They have been working hard today, and we need to give them a little rest.” Then she marched to the house, followed by Mama. Mama would have told her she did not need help, but by the time she got to the house, she could barely drag her feet across the threshold. She sank into a chair in the kitchen, and said, “I am beholden to you, Miss Weston.”
Miss Weston gave Mama some water, then called Jasper in. About that time Uncle Woodrow and Sardius came home, and they both looked as worn out as Mama and Jasper did, although they were a little cleaner by the time we saw them because they had stopped at the well and washed some.
Miss Weston was so nice. She tied an apron around her waist, fried up some fatback, made biscuits, and cooked some wild burdock that Uncle Woodrow and Sardius had picked on their way to the house. The evening might have been nice, except that we all knew Daddy was lying in the room right next to us, maybe not long for this world.