by Lee Smith
But now she has already got another one.
June 11, 1873
Dear Diary,
We have lost Four Oaks.
So Spence and Rom are back on this place now which is good for they are a big help but Selenas new friend came to visit and has not left, I do not like him, no one likes him, his name is Nicky Eck.
June 13, 1873
More about Nicky Eck
He is a smooth-talking smooth-haired traveling man who showed up at the door, Selena knows him from someplace. He has white-white teeth and a rosy mouth like a bow, like a girl. He wears checkered shirts and red suspenders and two-tone shoes. I do not like him. His eyelids seem always to shade his eyes, you cant tell what he is thinking, nor will he give a straight answer to anything. When I asked him where he is from, he said Not from around here thats for sure and when I asked him what he does he said he represents a line of notions but he would not say what kind, nor any more about it. He said, What is this Missy, the Inquisition?
What is that? Selena asked, but I knew. I know about the Inquisition and the French Revolution and the Leaning Tower of Pisa and many more things which mean nothing now though once I thought they did once I thought oh nevermind I do not like Nicky Eck I do not like the way he calls me Missy and follows me around with those hooded eyes it makes me feel funny. But Selena likes him. She has cheered up considerable in his company.
It is getting hot already. I cooked up some greens from the garden Spencer planted, I am not a bad cook either. You would be surprised! I am helping Selena in the kitchen, she is so big now. I reckon I learned a lot from watching Liddy without even knowing it. Everybody eats in the kitchen whenever they want to, whatever they can find. Meals are gone now. Many things are gone from the house too and more are disappearing all the time it seems to me. I think Nicky Eck takes them when he goes off for a day or so though I can not keep track, I am so tired. Nor do I care. He brings presents back for Selena such as sweet-smelling soap, a silver barrette, and stockings. Nothing for us and nothing for the baby. He follows me with his eyes. I do not know if Nicky Eck is a Yankee or not which seems likely but some of them are nice anyway and Nicky Eck is not nice, he is something much worse than a Yankee it seems to me. Agate Hill looks like the Yankees have been here but it was not even the Yankees, it was us.
June 21, 1873
Oh Diary,
Something else is happening now I can not stop it nor do I want to, it is Nicky Eck touching me up under my clothes first my breasts when he came upon me in the passage last night with no one present then again in the kitchen this morning where I worked at the stove he came up from behind and pushed himself against me I could feel him through my skirt I dropped an egg I can not tell you how I feel I can tell no one but it is the opposite of ghosts, that is for sure! He breathed in my ear, it sent shivers all down my body, I have thought about it all day long. He said, You like that dont you darling. No one has ever called me darling before as in a poem but I hate it, I hate Nicky Eck. Stop it! I am going to tell Selena, I said, but he said, No you wont, you wont tell Selena or anybody else. And he is right. I will not.
Now he is gone again. I took Blanche and Godfrey down to the river today where we made a dam in the shallows by the Willow House and I showed them how to sail magnolia leaf boats. It was a lot of fun but I didnt tell them anything not about the Willow House itself nor the people who live there nor the fairy ring which is gone from the woods now nor anything else that me and Mary White used to do. And all the time my mind was spinning above my head as it is doing right now. Nicky Eck has three moles on his cheek. He says, You like that dont you darling? You are a bad girl. He stood on the upper piazza watching us walk back up the lane from the river, I knew my shirt was sticking to my chest. Nicky Eck smoked a cigarette saying nothing.
June 25, 1873
Dear Diary,
I am hiding up here from Nicky Eck, it is the only place in the world he can not find me. It is real hot. I have been in here for a long time. But I dont care how hot it gets I will not come out. I am considering the items in my collection of phenomena one by one, I love to do this, but most of all I am remembering. I am remembering everything.
Today I turned back to read the beginning of this Diary in which Nora Gwyn urged me to set down upon these pages your own memories of your lovely mother and your brave father, and of your three brothers as well, and of all that has befallen you. Well I see that I have not done this exactly, I have not written about them so much, but now I will do so, for they are stuck in time as I am stuck in here so I will write some Tableaux Vivants for my family too.
Mamma
Mamma sits on a rock by a campfire deep in the swamp holding me. I am very little. It is nearly midnight. She left Perdido the night before under cover of darkness ahead of the Yankees, rumors were flying, slaves turning on their masters. Mamma is trying to get to Columbia, to cousin Sudies house in town. Everything she has is in the wagon pulled up into the oak grove hidden by bushes and hanging moss. It is dangerous to have even this little fire built by Virgil. Mamma is on the very verge of starvation! as she will tell me again and again but then Virgil catches three fish which twist flashing silver in the moonlight and Bess fries them up in the skillet right there over the open fire. Nothing has ever tasted so good, it was the most delicious supper I have ever eaten in my_entire life, why that was the sweetest fish, she will say, telling me how she picked out the bones and mashed up little bites for me, how much I loved it too. As we eat we can hear the bullfrogs and the peepers and now and then a splash out in the lagoon which gives us all a start and then later, toward morning, the hoot owls way back in the trees.
Bess brushes Mammas hair with my grandmothers silver brush. It has fancy initials engraved on it ELH for Eleanor Logan Heart, I used to trace them over and over with my finger. Mama was determined to bring that brush and the French pier glass mirror with her at all costs. Bess brushes Mammas hair which is long and honey colored, stroke after stroke. Mammas curls spring up from the brush. It has all come down during the journey. My hair is just a rats nest! Mamma says. There now honey, Bess says brushing and brushing to calm Mamma down. Mamma has always been kindly nervous. She has never brushed her own hair. The moonlight shines on the silver brush and on Mammas hair, it makes a shining path straight to us across the still water of the lagoon.
This is the most beautiful night Mamma has ever seen. She does not sleep a wink, not a wink! her heart is too full of fear and a strange excitement, she can not describe it. For so long she has been confined by the duties of her station and an indescribable longing for something she knew not what. But now, anything could happen to her. Anything. My mamma will remember this night forever, the sweet sweet taste of that fish and the moonlight on the water, she will tell it again and again.
Papa
Papa is Captain of Company C the Edgefield Hussars who form up in front of the Planters Hotel on the public square the glorious morning of June 6, 1861, before they ride off to join Hamptons Legion. Papa wears a red jacket and a white plume, he rides his great black stallion Beau who will be shot out from under him at Brandy Station. Papas long yellow hair falls down past his ears. He is a vain and quick-tempered man with a certain lack of judgment, yet great charm, in the words of Aunt Mitty who had no use for glory or charm either one. Papa has a handsome reckless face. He sits his horse like a cavalier. He has lived here all his life, man and boy, he has scarcely been out of this state. Everyone in town is there to see them off including a lovely array of beautiful women, as it says right here in this clipping. There is food and music and flags waving.
Captain M. C. Butler says Ladys and Fellow Countrymen. In these ranks many of you have sweethearts, brothers, and husbands, and we go to the tented fields in the defense of our homes and fireside against the invasion of the hireling foe. We will go to the front remembering that we are all Carolinians, and we will return as honored soldiers or fill a soldiers grave. It is ours to act and not to speak. You will he
ar from us! Farewell!
Papas heart is swelling. It is the moment he has longed for all his life, for he is a famous horseman and the best shot in the county. He would not miss this war for anything. Later in camp he will write a poem named The Tented Field which will be printed in newspapers all over the country including the Edgefield Examiner then clipped and folded and carefully saved in Mammas lavender silk purse along with all these other clippings I have here now in my collection of phenomena. Papa will be shot through the ear at Pocataligo, wounded in the leg by a minié ball at Hawes Shop, and finally killed at Bentonville where he will be blown to smithereens by a bursting shell then gathered up in pieces and buried beneath a green willow tree as in a ballad. He would have liked that, Uncle Junius said. Bloody symbolic fool.
Willie
Willie sits up on a pillow at the table for Sunday dinner at Agate Hill. He is small for his age but very grown up in other ways, he cocks his head to listen like a little bird. Uncle Junius calls him the Judge. Willie has a high solemn forehead and round blue eyes and long yellow curls, no one can bear to cut them. This is as old as he will get. He looks like an angel already.
Spencer brought him a little black puppy found on the side of the road. Why how in the world will we feed it? Fannie said. We cant even feed the people on this place! But then she relented of course and now the puppy follows him everywhere. Willie has named him John.
I just never heard of a dog named John, Julia said. Why dont you name him Midnight or Blacky or something like that?
His name is John, Willie said. He was BORN John which tickled everybody.
Now Willie has been sick and he is very thin while John grows bigger and bigger. I am the only one who knows that Willie is feeding John his own food under the table.
• • •
June 27, 1873
Dear Diary,
I just realized that May 20 my birthday has come and gone so I will not have it this year of our Lord nor ever again no one knows it but me anyway, no one will ever remember it. So I will be like a slave, they have no birthdays either, all their birthdays are January first, that was market day too. It will be my birthday from now on.
July 2, 1873
Dear Diary,
This is the last time I will ever be here in my cubbyhole the last time I will gaze at the world through my chink in the wall or sit in this little chair or consider my collection of phenomena or write in this book given to me by nice Nora Gwyn who would die to know what has become of me, so would Fannie. They seem like ladys in a story to me now.
Here is what happened.
Selena sent me to the barn to look for eggs yesterday morning. I am the best at finding them but while I was in there Nicky Eck came I guess he followed me and pushed me down in the straw and did the things he does to me but do not worry Dear Diary for I was not really there anyway I was up in the hayloft looking down and thinking Why look at that! When in came Spence with a pitchfork he stuck it into Nicky Eck making a row of bloody little holes all up and down his back which has moles on it too. It was comickal but horrible at the same time. Nicky Eck did not die of course but screamed like a pig and ran out of the barn then Spence was carrying me like he used to do when I was little and we played Take a Trip and then we were back up at Agate Hill where, guess what?
Surprise! Simon Black had arrived in a carriage with a brown-haired young lady wearing spectacles. He helped her down then stood in the lane with his black hat in his hands and the sun beating down on us all and said very formal-like, Good morning Molly Petree, allow me to introduce Miss Agnes Rutherford, a teacher at Gatewood Academy which you will be attending immediately, as ordered by Judge Draper, for you are now a ward of the court. I have the papers right here. It is all arranged.
But the young lady rushed forward and said, Why good heavens Mister Black, something is terribly the matter here, just as Nicky Eck burst out of the woods and Selena began to scream.
So I will be going away now Dear Diary.
I will be going to the Gatewood Academy.
I do not care that the fairy ring is gone from the woods now I do not care that I am leaving my ghosts I am such a bad girl I do not care about anything
Notes from Tuscany
INFANT CATECHISM
[Is this depressing or what? —TM]
Q. Who made you?
A. God
Q. Of what did he make you?
A. Dust
Q. For what were you made?
A. To be good
Q. Where do good children go?
A. They go to heaven when they die.
Q. Where do bad children go?
A. They go to hell.
Q. Who loves good children?
A. God, and all good people
Q. Who loves bad children?
A. The Devil
Q. Who died to redeem you?
A. Jesus Christ
Q. Should you not love Jesus?
A. Yes, with all my heart
WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD
Eugene Field
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
The old moon asked the three.
“We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!”
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea—
“Now cast your nets wherever you wish,—
Never afread are we!”
So cried the stars to the fisherman three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam,—
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home:
’Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one’s trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: —
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
THE FAIRIES
William Allingham
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain-lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.
TUSCANY MILLER
30-B Peachtree Court Apts.
1900 Court Blvd.
Atlanta, GA 30039
Hi Dr. F.,
What do you think so far?
Those poems are from Molly’s big Treasury of Children’s Verse which is just falling apart now. And as a matter of fact I think it is pretty depressing too with such scary poems as The Raven and that really sad one about the little toy soldier covered in dust but sturdy and staunch he stands. I would not even read that to a child, I will stick with Dora the Explorer myself if I have any.
Now this section was not even in the box at all. Michael, Ava (Daddy,) and me found it when we went on a field trip up to Lynchburg, Va. looking for Gatewood Academy which is now a part of Liberty University, that is Jerry Falwell’s outfit, you know they are all right-wingers! We took a picnic and drove up there in Michael’s convertible. It was not far at all. Michael wore a sports jacket with his blue jeans while Daddy (Ava) and I wore a nice suit. This was Daddy’s idea because he said they are all big Christians up there. But they were real nice to us and they have saved everything, right down to the household records. Their Library has an entire Gatewood Collection including all of Mariah Snow’s papers which follow. (She was so weird.) On the way back, we stopped for the best picnic on a riverbank, brie cheese and French bread and cherries and champagne. Michael drinks only Dom Perignon.
I have named the next section Paradise Lost, you will soon see why. Keep going, it gets weird now.
Best Wishes from me,
Tuscany
Paradise Lost
“First Impressions”
As duly recorded by Agnes Rutherford
To the attention of Mrs. Mariah Snow,
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
July 2, 1873
My Dear Sister,
I scarcely know how to start this record, so agitated am I by the events which transpired this morning when I accompanied Mister Simon Black to Agate Hill Plantation. O Mariah! I fear I am unworthy of this task! Better you had sent Olive Reid, as she is a strong practical soul who might better know what to do in such a situation. You said that Mister Black had requested a “tender-hearted chaperone for Molly Petree, as she will be in need of kindness,” and I do appreciate the compliment which you and Doctor Snow have paid me in entrusting her to my care; you know that I would do anything for you, Mariah; I hope I shall not fail you. But I cannot help wondering: Is Doctor Snow fully cognizant of the situation? And did you yourself understand the circumstances of this child’s life? If so, I find it hard to believe that Molly Petree has been accepted sight unseen. But pray do not misunderstand me; I should like for her to be admitted, as even in her present state of dejection and withdrawal I sense a sturdy spirit which may indeed resurrect itself with the best of care in benign circumstances. I shall do my best to befriend her. In fact I shall take her over as my special project thus saving you if possible from further worry in your already overburdened state.