What Momma Left Behind

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What Momma Left Behind Page 20

by Cindy K. Sproles


  “Mine and Justice’s life is a lie.” I glanced right quick at the pastor. There it was again. My anger.

  “Worie, ain’t a person alive can change the past. You might not ever understand why your momma decided not to tell you everthing. But what you got to focus on ain’t what’s behind that you can’t change. A body has to look at the good that come from the past. Learn to be grateful for bein given a chance at a better life.”

  I couldn’t argue with Pastor Jess. That sorty ticked me off. He was doin his best to help make me understand.

  “Your momma and daddy could have left you and Justice. They could have left Calvin—to die. But they chose to protect you from that life and give you one filled with love. Best I can see, you’re doin the same thing your momma did with these youngins. Ain’t you?”

  I was never good at bein wrong. It eat at me. But Pastor Jess just cleared a puddle of muddy water, and I saw he was right.

  He leaned against the porch rail and took in a deep breath. “You ain’t your momma. What you’re doin for these youngins ain’t because of what your momma did. You’re doin it cause your heart was pricked. Make sense?” He took his coffee back and emptied the cup.

  The ache was so deep, it was like ever bit of the air was bein sucked outta me. I made my way off the porch. “Pastor Jess, could you . . .”

  His hand went up. “I can’t talk to Justice for you. This is between you’ins. You’ll work through the hurt together. Now go on. Justice is out at the garden.”

  When I finally made my way around to the garden, Justice was squatted down, pickin at weeds. I watched as he fingered the green shoots. He was tryin to take in Ely’s news.

  I eased up behind him. “Justice.”

  He twisted and went to his knees. Wrapped his arms around my legs and went to sobbin. I dug my fingers into his hair. This was the second time I’d seen his heart bleed, and I wondered why mine wouldn’t.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-THREE

  Me and Justice walked the length of the garden before my legs commenced to give. He scooped me up and carried me to the barn. I looked over them beds the pastor built, and things started to sink in.

  “What are we gonna do, Justice? First we find out Calvin was an orphan Momma picked up, and now we find out we’re just as bad.”

  “Bad?” Justice scratched his head. He raised a brow. “Worie, we is just folks. We ain’t no better or no worse than anybody else on the mountain.”

  “How can you say that? You know what Calvin has done, and all for his greed.”

  “Worie, don’t be mixin Calvin’s greed with the fact we are orphans. The two don’t meet.”

  “But . . .”

  Justice hung his head. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the satin bag that held Momma’s stones. He’d took it from Bess. “Tell me somethin, Worie.” He opened my hand and dropped the bag in it. “What does this bag mean to you?”

  “What do you mean, what does it mean to me?”

  “Well, you was determined to keep it from Calvin. We had Bess hide it once Ely told us these stones was worth somethin.”

  “What are you sayin?” My heart raced. “What are you gettin at?”

  Justice stood quiet, ponderin his words. “What do you reckon woulda happened if you’d just give this bag to Calvin when he busted in Momma’s cabin early on?”

  Bile crawled up my throat, burnin like a hard swig of moonshine. “Are you sayin this whole thing is my fault?”

  “No, I ain’t sayin that. But I am sayin you mighta been able to prevent it. Ain’t no way to know what Calvin would do, but I ain’t no better than him.” Justice kicked at the dirt floor. “I can’t tell you the times I’ve snuck and had me some liquor even after I promised you I wouldn’t. We all got our demons.”

  “Momma told me to keep the jar a secret.”

  “Momma is dead,” he come back at me.

  I took a step back. Justice’s words tore through me like a hot prod. I went to pacin the barn, thoughts runnin fast through my mind. “I promised her.”

  “Yes you did. But tell me somethin. Does Momma care now? Right this minute, do you think Momma cares who has this bag? Wrapped in that blanket, buried in the ground . . . all them rocks on top of her. Do you think Momma cares about a jar or a bag, or papers she wrote on?”

  I’d never known Justice to be so hard. “Have you been drinkin? Cause that’s the only thing that would make you talk like this. You asked me to trust you. And I did. Is this how you repay me?”

  “When Ely told me about our real momma dyin, my heart broke. But it never broke because I felt like Momma lied to us. It broke cause I was plumb awful. Never thankin Momma for the love she give me. Never thankin her for the times she forgive me. I was never honest with her. Never grateful for her worryin over me. I let Calvin bully me into never tellin Momma the truth. Or why that lie drove me to drown my pain. Worie, I was ashamed.”

  “I ain’t bad. I always did what Momma told me,” I shouted. “It wasn’t my fault I was never good enough to keep Momma from takin her life.”

  All the hurt I felt while Momma laid dyin in my arms bubbled up. I fell to the floor, and sobs heaped outta me like vomit.

  “Momma, I’m sorry.” I laid my face in the hay. “I’m so sorry. I was just tryin to do right by you.”

  Ely must have heard me and Justice arguin and wasted no time runnin to the barn. “What’s goin on here?” He took me by the shoulders to help me stand.

  Justice stood toe to toe with Ely. “This is between me and Worie. My sister had ever chance in the world to let go of her selfishness. If she ain’t gonna let go on her own, then I’m gonna straighten her out.”

  I was growin weary of folks tellin me I was angry, holdin on to bitterness. But I reckon Justice made his point. This time things sunk into my hard head.

  It was never my fault them youngins lost their folks. And it sure wasn’t my fault Momma took her life. But this wrath from Calvin . . . that was my fault. That was me bein stubborn. That stubbornness caused Doanie to lose Farrell and caused us to lose the homestead. All that I could have prevented by not bein so . . . so . . . self-righteous.

  Justice picked up a shovel and whaled the tar outta the side of the barn. His anger flared like I’d never seen. “Let me get the rest of this nightmare out in the open.” He come straight to my face. “Me, Daddy, and Calvin went huntin. Them two got into it over Daddy’s shotgun. They was tuggin back and forth on that gun till Calvin kicked Daddy’s legs out from under him. He fell hard. His head landed on a rock. Daddy never moved again.”

  I stood shakin my head. Momma and me believed Daddy growed sick when they was huntin. “We thought he died from the fever,” I said.

  “Well, he didn’t. And Calvin swore if I opened my mouth, he’d kill you and Momma.”

  There was nothin left in me. I was spent. For the first time, I thought I might understand why Momma pulled that trigger. A body can only take so much before they can’t swaller no more. Dyin sounded right invitin.

  Things went to fallin into place. Justice had lived in fear of Calvin, and I accused him of bein weak.

  Ely tried to comfort me, but they was no comfort to be found. I took that shovel outta Justice’s hand and flung it across the barn. I draped my arms over his shoulders and pressed my forehead against his.

  “Ely! Bess is right.” I kissed my brother’s cheek, then took hold of his hand. “Yes sirree. She’s right. The truth ain’t always easy to swaller, but it is always right.”

  I’d done gone a few rounds with the good Lord. I supposed He’d finally got my attention.

  This mess wasn’t about them youngins. It wasn’t about Justice. Or Calvin. It wasn’t even about Momma’s lies. It was about me and just how broke I was and how I was gonna fix it.

  I couldn’t turn loose of Justice. I was afraid if I did, I’d lose him too.

  Betwixt all the hollerin and wailin, everbody had made their way to the barn to see what the commotion was
about. They circled around me and Justice. I reckon it was time we had a family talk. Pastor Jess pulled a barrel close so I could sit. I took hold of Justice’s hand, mine shakin.

  I glanced around the barn. Abeleen and the pastor. Trigger and Ellie. Bess and Ely. Doanie and T. J. It appeared what I had was a family. Only one of them was blood family. The rest was stragglers.

  Bess pulled some papers from her pocket and went to sortin through them. “Miss Worie, your momma taught me to read. And that opened up a whole new freedom for me. So it’s best you know, while you was sleepin all them days, I commenced to read through these. Not to be nosey, but to see if they was something else we needed to know.”

  Them papers was no secret, but to Bess, she’d broke my trust by readin them. I smiled at her. “And was they anything?”

  “Yes ma’am. They was. And you need to read this.”

  Bess’s eyes carried a look of concern. I wasn’t sure if I needed to ready myself for one more blow or not. She flipped through the pages until she found the one she wanted, then she handed it to me. Justice squatted next to me. I laid the paper on my lap and smoothed down the edges.

  “Read them words out loud, Miss Worie,” Bess said. “They need to be said so everbody hears.”

  From the book of Proverbs, the seventeenth chapter, verse eight, I write the words of the good Lord.

  A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it: whithersoever it turneth, it prospereth.

  I don’t suppose you will rightly understand why I have to do what I do. I’m burnin with fever and my bones is growin weak. It’s hard to keep goin like they ain’t nothin wrong, so this decision, hard as it is, is one I’ve wrestled with the good Lord over.

  That bag has some stones. Rubies from my necklace. My momma give it to me when I left to marry your daddy. “If you ever need a way out, this will get you home. And you can always come home with open arms.”

  My momma . . . she is a good woman. She never approved of Daddy’s tryin to keep me away from the man I loved, but she knew when I left, she’d never see me again. Still, she made a way for me to come home. They was four stones. I give two away. I give them to people who I thought could make a difference. After all, the good Lord wants us to make more of what we have. My hope was they would use them when the time was right. I never expected them to die before they could do good with them.

  Their youngins burned in my heart. Just like Calvin, Justice, and you burned in my heart. So I’m leavin you a way to make a difference. I know it will take some time to figure that road, but when you do, I have great faith you will change things.

  I can’t let this fever be passed on to the ones I love. The only way I can save you from this is to take away what carries it. This ain’t your fault. It ain’t nobody’s fault but bad luck. What I do, I do to save you.

  I hope someday you will understand the gift I am givin you is like a precious stone. Turn it and prosper.

  I love you all. They is no hard feelins over our rough times. All I have done has been outta love.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FOUR

  T. J. climbed on my lap. The words Momma had wrote wrapped around us both like a warm quilt. I pulled him close. “You know Miss Worie is so glad you are home. She loves you.” He took my face in his hands and rubbed my cheeks, swipin the tears that streamed. “Sweet boy.”

  Pastor Jess squeezed my shoulder. “He knows. They all know.”

  Abeleen made her way to my feet and laid her head in my lap. “When Ely dragged me to your farm, I knew as soon as I saw you that you would take care of me. I ain’t doubted it since. This is where Daddy would want me to be.”

  Them youngins gathered tight against me, and I knew Momma was right. It didn’t matter that we wasn’t blood. Just that we was family.

  The moment was nice, and I coulda set there all day takin in ever one of them, but things needed to move ahead. “Now that we all know we was meant to be family, there is chores that need to be done. Get with it.” I give T. J. a little peck on the cheek. “Ain’t you got some chickens to feed?”

  Ely pressed his face to my cheek, then took Bess’s hand. “I reckon he does. Doanie, you go with Miss Bess and finish hangin them clothes on the line. And Abeleen, them horses need let out.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Ely. I can do that.” Abeleen was up like a shot and headed to the pen.

  “That girl’s got a way with them horses.” Ely chuckled.

  He was barkin commands one after the other, and youngins was scatterin. I was grateful. Grateful him and Bess was with me.

  Daddy used to talk about the cornerstone when him and the boys was buildin the barn. “Gotta get this rock in level. Sturdy it up. It’s what holds the whole barn up.”

  Ely was that rock, holdin me up even when I was swayin in the wind.

  It wasn’t long before there was just me and Justice sittin in the quiet of the barn. I couldn’t think of nothin to say that could hold up to Momma’s paper. I took the crumpled paper from my lap and handed it to Justice.

  He folded it and pushed it into his pocket. “Looks like T. J. managed to wad it up a little.” He rested his arm across my lap. “We ain’t done answerin that question I asked earlier. The one about just givin that bag to Calvin.” He raised a brow.

  “I don’t want to fight, Justice.”

  “Fightin stopped when you read Momma’s note. Me and you got to decide what we need to do.” Justice wiped his face with his handkerchief.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know when you get your hackles up it makes you want to drink.”

  Justice stared at me. “I ain’t sure you’re gonna ever learn how to soften your words. Are you?”

  “I . . . I . . . didn’t mean . . .”

  “Truth is, Worie, I don’t feel no need to get my hooch. Tellin you the truth about Daddy seemed to kill the taste.”

  “So what do we do from here?”

  “We know what them stones was for and that they have some wealth to them. For now, we think on what to do with them. If I was to say what I thought we really needed to do . . .”

  “Say it.” I nudged him.

  “I say we load up and go back to the house. Take back what’s ours. Leave the youngins here with Ely and Bess until we get things worked out.” He stuck his hand out and I took hold, lettin him stand me up. “Whatta you think?”

  I slipped my hand over the crook of his elbow. It was like something took hold of me and strengthened me. I swallowed hard. All this time I’d not been afraid of Calvin, but somehow bein throwed off a train by him give me something to fear.

  “You think he’s at the cabin?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  “But you think he’s . . .”

  “Watchin? Oh, you bet your bootstraps he’s watchin.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We go home, Worie. We go home.”

  A voice come from the door of the barn. “Not that a soul asked me, but I believe Justice is right. Go home. Take what is yours.” Pastor Jess stood leanin just outside the door.

  “I believe you are the nosiest soul alive. Always hearin ever conversation whether it belongs to you or not.” I waved my hand at him.

  “It’s a gift!” He went to heehawin. “A gift from the good Lord. But either way, Justice is right. It’s time you both stood your ground.”

  “Pastor’s right, Worie. We done know Calvin ain’t got no legal hold on that land. And I don’t know about you, but I’m up for a good fight.”

  I walked to the barn door and looked over the mountains that stair-stepped their way to heaven. The blue of the sky bounced off the ridges, leavin a soft, warm color.

  I sighed. “Feel that sun? It’s like it sucks the rotten out of us.”

  The men walked to either side of me. “What’s it gonna be, Worie?” Justice asked. “We gonna hunker down and let Calvin hover over us like a animal huntin prey, or are we gonna run him off?”

  I never had trouble fightin before, but this wa
s different. I wasn’t goin after a brother that stole my supper. I was facin down one that killed our Daddy, broke Momma’s heart, and stole a child away.

  “It ain’t about the farm, you know.” My eyes met Justice’s.

  “Nope. It ain’t.”

  “It’s about Farrell. And Momma.”

  Pastor Jess chimed in. “It’s about becomin who you both was meant to be. That’s what your momma would have wanted. That’s what the good Lord wants for His children.”

  “Becomin who I was meant to be. Hummm.” I couldn’t rightly say I knew what that was except that I loved them children. I loved my brother, Ely, and Bess. I wanted what was best for them. “Pastor Jess.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Reckon you would make your way to Hartsboro and get the sheriff? Let him know there’s about to be a fight on the mountain.”

  The pastor nodded. “I’d be happy to. Just give me time to get him up here before you start throwin rocks.”

  “Oh Pastor, I ain’t gonna be throwin no rocks.” I pulled my shoulders back. “I’m gonna be throwin words. Powerful words. Momma’s words.”

  Pastor Jess had the biggest smile plastered across his face. Bigger than I’d ever seen. He walked toward the pen and hollered for Abeleen to bring his horse. He tipped his hat and headed out.

  Justice and me stood starin out at the mountains.

  “They are beautiful, ain’t they?” I said.

  “They are.” Justice scratched his head and set his hat. “Daddy used to say the mountains could talk.”

  “I remember. And Momma would tell him it wasn’t the mountains he heard, but the voice of the good Lord.” I took a few steps into the sunlight, lifted my hand, and shaded my eyes. The howl of a coyote echoed across the valley. And I heard the mountains whisper.

  Home. Go home.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Ely was good enough to tell the youngins me and Justice was leavin. I’m not sure I could have looked them in the eyes and told them myself I was leavin again. They was no tellin when I’d be back to get them—or even if. Knowin Calvin, anything could happen. He could kill us both. At this point, it wouldn’t be as easy as just givin him Momma’s stones. It was a matter of pride for him now.

 

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