The House on Malcolm Street

by Leisha Kelly

  I knew he was referring to an older daughter who had married a neighbor’s son. I’d planned to ask him about getting their help. But maybe there were others available. “What about Dodie’s beau and your other older sister and brother?”

  “Dodie’s fella broke his leg ’bout three weeks ago. Ben’s gone away to the army. An’ Mama said we wasn’t to mention nothing to Verna’s husband even if we see him. On account that he said he wasn’t going to be burdened with us.”

  I gave a grunt of disgust and glanced over at the boy. “That’s a shame. He’s missing out on a blessing.”

  He picked up a giant pumpkin and set it to one side away from the others. “You think it’s a blessing, helpin’ us?”

  “I’m sure it will be. And since he’s your family now, it seems to me that working alongside you and knowing you a little better would be a double blessing for him.”

  He whistled. “You got a pretty way a’ lookin’ at things, mister. Bet he’s never took no thought on blessings at all, lest they’s the kind you can jingle in your pocket.”

  “Maybe not. Some people are like that.”

  That boy and I worked until my back ached and I was so empty that my belly ached just as badly. “You need a break,” I told him.

  He laughed. “You’re the one that looks done in. But that’s ’cause you didn’t get none of your sister’s soup.”

  “Sister? You mean Leah? She’s not my sister.”

  “Oh. Your cousin, then. I noticed you both call Mrs. Mc-Sweeney Aunt Marigold.”

  “Long story.” I didn’t see any point in explaining to him that we were both related to Mari through marriage but neither of us was actually blood kin to her or to each other.

  “But you are kin?”

  “After a fashion.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He helped empty another wheelbarrow of pumpkins beside the barn, and together we walked to the house.

  “Wish we could take a load to town today,” he said. “Sure would be nice to have the cash. And the longer they sit, the greater the chance I have to sort ’em twice.”

  We almost had enough to fill the old pickup already. It would be nice to get at least some to market. But the thought of it sent a chill through me. I did not want to drive that truck. “Maybe Leah can drive.” I spoke the sudden idea aloud.

  “Don’t you?”

  I swallowed hard. “Maybe. If I have to. But I’d rather take a train or walk.”

  He looked at me with a bit of concern. “You takin’ the train goin’ back through tonight?”

  “No. I’d rather take the train home, but I didn’t want to have to leave that soon if you need the help. A friend of mine is driving over to get me tomorrow night so I’ll be back in time to catch the train again in Andersonville early Monday.”

  Leah wasn’t in the kitchen when we went in, so I determined with some relief to gather something to eat on my own. Didn’t take me long to notice that there were plenty of herbs and tomatoes, and a few other garden vegetables, but not much else to be found.

  “We’s sure thankful for the biscuits and things you send,” Bobby said. “Got no cash for the grocer till we get the crop money in. That’s another reason I’m wishin’ we can haul what we picked. Be nice to have some flour for bread around here on what ain’t biscuit days.”

  I hadn’t realized they were in quite that bad of shape. But a little more looking around confirmed it. There was no flour in that kitchen, nor sugar, coffee, butter, or anything that couldn’t be produced in their fields, except maybe a tablespoon of salt in the bottom of the shaker. “How long have you managed like this?”

  “Most all summer. The money from last year run out back in April. Mama said to be thankful we had enough on the shelves to last till the garden come on, and that’d take us to the fall cash harvest. Ain’t been easy, though. Some days all we had was greens.” He made a face.

  I looked at Leah’s pot. “What did she put in that soup?”

  “Oh, this and that a’ what was around. A tater or two an’ some carrots an’ such. I reckon she’s done this kinda thing before.”

  I turned back to him. “Got a milk cow?”

  “Not no more.”

  “Chickens?”

  “A few. Not enough laying to keep us in enough eggs. So Mama called what come from you a gift from heaven.”

  Marigold had known. The need was great, and she’d determined to do what she could. “How long since you had meat?”

  “I went out with Buck an’ got a rabbit. ’Bout three weeks ago. Rafe an’ Lowell’ve done that too. Been too much doin’ around here to go again. Sure would be nice, though.”

  I sat at the table with a cup of the broth from Leah’s pot, a plate of tomatoes, and half a bell pepper sprinkled with a few grains of salt. Bobby joined me with pretty much the same thing.

  “Sure would be nice to have pot roast again. And chocolate pie. Oh, what a dandy!”

  I smiled. “You’re a dandy, yourself. Do you know where the grocer is?”

  “Sure do.”

  “If we can get some pumpkins sold this afternoon, do you think your mother would mind us taking the time to get some groceries before we come home?”

  “Mind?” he asked. “I think she’d wanna kiss ya!”

  24

  Leah

  Fifteen sick children. It was enough to drive anyone insane.

  Most of the children had only mild cases of what I was sure really was measles. They were restless and cranky and out of sorts about staying in their rooms as their mother had told them to do. But I was so glad she had. I’d never have been able to keep track of them all otherwise.

  The mother seemed weakest, which concerned me quite a bit. If that had been all, they might have fared all right without help. But both of the older girls as well as the oldest boys being down sick really complicated things. Especially since it still seemed to me that there must be something in addition to measles going around among them. Several of the children had coughs. At least two had upset stomachs. The oldest boy, who looked nearly as big as a man, had the worst fever among them. The youngest two were pouty almost all the time and wanted nothing to do with me. Finally Ida, the oldest girl, told me just to let them on her bed with her, and that helped.

  At least nobody seemed to be in serious shape. In fact, several said they were feeling some better than they had been. The big girl called Dodie puzzled me, with the worst cough of anyone and a rash that looked more like a reaction to something in the yard than to a disease.

  Beth Ann was a great help. She seemed a little tired, but otherwise sturdy and willing. Dougy didn’t know what to think of all this. He was frustrated that their normal routine was disrupted and told me twice that he wanted crackers. I’d looked, but there were none to be found. None of the children had as strong of appetites as I’d hoped when they first told me they were hungry. But at least they’d been able to eat a little. Maybe it was a good thing that they weren’t ravenous for more until I figured out how to make something passable in a large enough quantity from what little I could find around.

  “Don’t worry,” Beth Ann had told me as we took soup to some of the younger ones. “I’ll go an’ help Bobby dig more potatoes enough for supper. There’s pumpkins and plenty of tomatoes too. And if Mr. Walsh’d pull us some of the field corn, I could grind it for meal for the morning.”

  Eliza and I had been destitute in the city, and hungry, true enough. But this number of children? Trying to do for so many – just thinking about finding enough of anything to go around – it was overwhelming. I didn’t know how they could manage even when the mother and the older children were well.

  I bathed foreheads, gave cool compresses to the ones with sore eyes, and tried to coax everybody to drink what they could. Maybe there’d be a way to get a doctor here. I could use the advice. I didn’t think anyone’s measles were a real problem, but the soreness in the eyes did concern me. And I most needed to know if there was ano
ther sickness involved. Hopefully nothing I’d need worry over catching.

  Even with all of that to think about, my mind still strayed to Josiah Walsh’s sudden appearance. Why hadn’t Marigold told me he was coming? It would be astounding for her not to know. I might have backed out if I’d learned that he would be here to help. Surely she would have known that. So had she planned it this way on purpose?

  They could use both of us here, that was certain. They could have used six more helpers, truth be told. But would Marigold really deceive me intentionally? Or had Josiah come here simply by chance? It was a little hard to believe either way.

  I returned to the kitchen for more tea and found Josiah and Bobby at the table eating tomatoes. They both looked considerably dirtier than they had before, and I knew they’d been working, though I wasn’t sure at what. I wouldn’t have said anything, but the Kurchers had no pump or faucet in the house and I wasn’t sure where the well was.

  “I’m going to need plenty more water, if one of you could bring it in, please.”

  Bobby hopped right up again. “Sure. That’s one of my jobs anyway. I’ll get it.”

  He was out the door to meet the new need in a surprising hurry. Was he always this quick to help? Or maybe strangers and the dire circumstances had him doing everything he could.

  I would’ve rather Josiah had hurried to fetch the water, so I’d not have to be alone with him.

  “Are you able to drive?” he suddenly asked.

  “Why in the world do you need to know?”

  “Because that hard-working boy and I have harvested stacks of pumpkins out there. We need to haul them to market. I guess you’ve noticed they’re in sore need of grocery money in this house.”

  My mind started racing with all this need. “Is there a vehicle?”

  “Farm truck parked in the barn. I’m in high hopes it’s running well. Bobby says it should. Think you could drive it?”

  Maybe because of the whole situation, or maybe because it was him asking, my muscles tightened and I got hot under the collar. “Are you going to stay here and tend to fifteen children and their poor mother? Why do you want to send me?”

  He looked helpless. “I’m not sure I’d do as well at tending, and I’m not keen on you and that little fellow doing all the unloading, either. So if we have to leave these here alone a while, maybe it wouldn’t take long. I want to be sure the boy gets paid today and paid fair. Then we could pick out a few necessities from the grocer.”

  I couldn’t believe he’d come up with such an idea, and I’m sure he didn’t expect the earful he got.

  “Marigold did not send me here to leave these people alone and run to the market with you! Why don’t you drive? I could make a list for the grocer and stay here where I’m needed.”

  He stared at his boots. “I . . . um . . . I’m not sure I can.”

  “You’ve driven before.”

  “Not since . . . I haven’t even ridden since . . .” He rose to his feet, and I thought he might just walk out.

  “Listen to me!” I called to him. “Is there a physical reason that you can’t drive?”

  He turned, looking whipped.

  “If there isn’t, then you have to. Do you understand? And while you’re in town, see if you can find a doctor. I not only shouldn’t leave, I need help here.”

  Whatever was at work in him made his eyes a little wild and his face two shades paler. “Make your list,” he told me. And then walked out.

  25

  Josiah

  She was right. I knew without question that she was right, but the very physical reaction in me to the idea of driving again was immediate and painful. Throbbing head. Aching gut. Sweaty, shaking hands. Lord, please help.

  I went to look at the truck again first, praying that it would start and afraid that it would, all at the same time. Bobby hauled the water bucket across the yard to the house and then came running back out to join me.

  “When was the last time anybody started this thing?” I asked him.

  “No more’n a couple of weeks, I don’t think. Shouldn’t be no problem. ’Cept it’s been poppin’ and sputterin’ some.”

  “Got plenty of gas and oil?”

  “Don’t know.”

  I checked both and they were low, but Mrs. Kurcher, or someone, had had the foresight to have gas and oil cans, with a little in each, close by on a barn shelf.

  “Let’s see if it starts. If it doesn’t, we hoof it to town for the doctor and then see what we can harvest or work on here that’ll do the most good.”

  “Mama ain’t wantin’ the doctor. She tol’ us that. Can’t pay him, and he don’t contribute more’n common sense gives ya anyhow, most times.”

  “I understand. But Leah needs the extra pair of hands and maybe a word of advice and I’m not about to argue. If he wants money, I’ll guarantee it to him, since I’m the one fetchin’ him. I’ll drop it off to you from my next pay.”

  “Mister! You ain’t gotta do that!”

  “Ain’t gotta be here at all, but I couldn’t do otherwise. Some things need to be done, and that’s all there is to it.”

  The truck started, and it rumbled rough, just like he’d said. But it’d surely get us there, and that was good enough.

  Bobby thought we’d have room to haul for both the canner and the grocer since we didn’t have a full load for either one. I agreed, thinking it was worth a try at selling what we’d picked. Harvest for the rest would come soon enough. He helped me load everything, starting with the pumpkins for the grocer. Then we covered them with gunnysacks and added the rest.

  I sent Bobby to the house for Leah’s list, gladly anticipating a moment alone. I’d intended to pray, but my mind wandered to puzzling about why Marigold would send Leah. Hadn’t Mr. Abraham told her I was planning to help? Maybe not, because the only reason I’d determined to come here was to get somebody to the Kurchers’ today. If I’d known anybody else had agreed, I would have stayed in Andersonville.

  Bobby came running back out with Leah’s paper, pleased as he could be. “Mama’s gonna be proud,” he said.

  “Rightly so.”

  He climbed in the passenger seat, excited to be on our way. I took a deep breath and turned the crank again. The truck started with a sputter and a cough, and I moved quickly to the driver’s seat. And just sat.

  “What’s the matter?” Bobby asked.

  I stretched my hand to the steering wheel, my eyes to the long, rutted driveway. “Nothing.” Help me, Lord.

  My heart pounded viciously as I put the truck in gear and it lurched forward. It seemed so familiar, so terribly, terrifyingly the same. Several times I’d dreamed of driving again. And it had always ended badly.

  “You’ll have to direct me. I don’t know the area,” I told Bob, hoping he wouldn’t discern the tension in my voice.

  “I know,” he said cheerfully. “Otherwise, I might a’ stayed home to dig taters. ’Cept that Francis at the cannery might like seeing a Kurcher over a stranger. He’s already agreed to take most all we can bring him.”

  “Good. But to the doctor first. Do you know where to find him?”

  “I think so. I think it’s a little brick house behind the milliner.”

  We didn’t talk much on the way, which was good. My mind was too distracted to have responded much to him anyway. I kept picturing myself swerving, crashing this truck and killing this precious child. My grip on the wheel was tight, and I could feel a surge of panic every time I even saw another vehicle on the road, even if it didn’t come near us.

  God, please. Help me not to mess this up and hurt anyone. Calm me, please. It’s going to be okay.

  Bobby’s directions took us to the only doctor in the area, a balding man named Harold Flatt who knew exactly the farm we meant and was willing to drive himself there as we went on to our other necessary business.

  “I wouldn’t mind having a nice big pumpkin for my services,” he told us.

  Bobby smiled. “Whichever on
e you want.”

  Francis at the cannery took the pumpkins as Bobby had predicted and paid cash for them. But the grocer was a good deal pickier. He took only about half of what we’d selected for him but said he’d probably have plenty of room for more later. “Check with me every couple of days,” he said. “I’d keep a steady supply clear past Thanksgiving if I could.”

  “We’ll do the best we can, Mr. Fletcher. Thank you very much,” Bobby told him politely. I’d have to tell his mother how well he’d done, nicely introducing me and everything. She should be proud of her boy.

  “I ain’t never got to sell before,” he whispered to me as we began picking out the things on Leah’s list. “That was great.”

  “I’d have thought you did it every time,” I told him.

  “I only just watched.”

  It was a bare bones list of groceries we filled. Bobby told me that Leah had consulted his mother and she’d advised what she called a “working minimum” for now, until they knew how much the crop would bring and what other needs there might be. But I was sure the addition to garden vegetables, especially the flour, baking powder, and sugar, would be greatly appreciated in that household. Might even help stir the appetites of some of those children to smell something baking again.

  The drive back to the farm wasn’t such a battle; the tension in me had subsided and I could breathe a little easier. This was not so bad after all. And that gave me a very good feeling. I’d told myself that I would never drive again, should never drive again, because of the harm I could do to someone else. It’d been a double binding – guilt and fear – and I’d broken through it to help a family in need. That felt like a considerable victory, and whether she knew it or not, Leah was largely responsible. She’d been angry. She probably wouldn’t want to speak to me. Yet now I felt that I ought to thank her.

  Maybe she’d be able to hear it and not think me a coldhearted imbecile for suggesting that she leave the house. Maybe. But she’d probably just turn her back and tell me to leave her alone again.

  26