The Girl Called Ella Dessa: Will she ever be cherished for the inner beauty beneath her scars?

by Karen Campbell Prough

  Braced on one elbow, Velma had run her left hand over the infant’s wet head. “I love this gift, another beautiful child from God. Cut the cord, then we’ll let Carrie and Scott comes look.” She laid back on the bed. “Thank you, Lord.” Tears had dripped down the woman’s flushed cheeks.

  *******

  A hand tapped her on the head. “Ella? Where’s your mind gone?” Velma stared at her. “You look like you’re in a trance.”

  “Ouch.” She wrinkled her nose and giggled. “I keep thinkin’ of Adam’s birth. He’s such a perfect baby.” Her hand hovered over the words she still had to write.

  “Your writing’s beautiful.” Velma tapped the upper, right hand corner of the paper. “What is this? I didn’t know you could draw.”

  Ella shrugged. “I shouldn’t have drew on the page like that.” She turned the copybook around, so Velma could see.

  “Honey, it’s lovely an’ so delicate. A fawn layin’ amidst violets?”

  “Yes. I drew them from memory. It isn’t much, and the teacher might get angry. I ruined the corner of the paper.

  “Oh, I should thinks he’ll be impressed.”

  “Thank you. I never got to draw much when I lived with Mama. But I love to draw.” She pulled the copybook back into place, pressed her lips together, and made the final looping letters on her assignment. “Whew, it’s done. And only three blots on it.” She considered the spots where her ink had dripped or spread. “I wish it were perfect, but my hand shook.”

  “I only had schoolin’ my grandma gave me.” Velma sat with one elbow on the table. She rested her chin on a cupped hand. “That’s not much, I guess.”

  “It’s enough. I’ve seen you help Scott with his lessons. You read the Bible.” She waved her hand over the page and waited for the ink to dry.

  “Am I botherin’ you?”

  “No, I’m done for tonight.” With care, she blew on the page, closed the copybook, and tied the leather cover shut. She smiled as she put the tiny cork into the neck of the clear glass bottle, careful not to spill the precious ink Master Konrad had allowed her to use. She held it to the firelight and contemplated the bubbled glass and the liquid ink. “He mixed this just for me and told Samuel to bring it.”

  “Don’t let the little ones seize that.”

  “No, I won’t, and I’ll make sure Carrie takes it to school Monday. I’m glad Master Konrad saw fit to give me two days to use it. When you were with your grandma, where’d you live?” She wiggled her fingers and tried to work a cramp out of her right hand. “Ouch, I gripped the quill too tight, again. I wish I could relax while writin’.”

  “We lived nears Richmond. Gust asked me to marry him, which I did. A year later, Carrie was born an’ Grandma died. We lived with her, so we stayed on ‘til the house burnt the night I birthed Scott.” Her voice shook with emotion. “Gust left a lit pipe on the table nears my bowl of yarn. I almost lost my new baby to the fire.”

  Ella folded her hands on top of the copybook and gazed at the woman. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful.”

  “We had to rely on help from other folks—much like now. They built us a tiny cabin, but Gust never added to it.” Her eyes reflected past sadness. “He drank. I delivered Remy myself ‘cause Gust was on an extended huntin’ trip. Mae came the year after, and it seemed no time at all for Rosemary cames along. Gust moved us here so he could be close to the gold fields.”

  “You knew that?”

  “Yes, I’m no ninny. We stayed four months west of Lick Log, ‘fore I insisted he get me and the younguns away from the squalor. I didn’t want to live in a shanty along a dirty stream with gold-crazed men.” She stopped talking and stared at the rough pine table. With a broken fingernail, she picked at a loose knothole. “Now, I guess, he’s chosen gold over us.” Her hunched shoulder bones showed through the thin material of her dress, emphasizing her words of rejection.

  “I’m sorry, Velma.” She didn’t know what else to say. The woman’s sudden sharing of the past had taken her by surprise, although she realized it probably served to ease the woman’s mind.

  Velma patted her hand. “Nothin’ for you to feels sorry about. I was ramblin’.” She sat straighter and lifted her chin. “Now, I’ve somethin’ to say.”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to starts going to the school with the others.”

  “With the others? You’re sure?”

  “I can watch the younger ones and the baby for that short a time. There’s no reason for you to stays home. Adam’s five weeks old, now. It’s the middle of April. I’ve got my strength back.”

  Ella didn’t dare breathe. Reality might slip away if she took in a lungful of air. She gripped the edge of the table with her ink-stained fingers. It seemed too amazing to be true. “You said I can go?”

  “Yes, on Monday. Scott and Carrie will loves havin’ you walk with them.”

  “Oh, bless you!” She jumped from her seat, ran around the table, and grabbed Velma in what her mother used to call a bear hug. She buried her face against the woman’s neck. “I love you.”

  “That’s the way I feel ‘bout you,” Velma whispered, her hand stroking Ella’s hair.

  “Samuel won’t hav’ta bring my lessons to me no more.” She lifted her head and smiled.

  Velma chuckled and patted her back. “I don’t thinks Samuel will be none too happy ‘bout that. He loves comin’ to see you. He’s smitten with you.”

  “Smitten?” She plopped back on the bench.

  “Yep. Slapped rights in the face with wantin’ to please you and see your purty smile.”

  “Oh, that’s silly. He does it ‘cause he promised Master Konrad.” Ella found Velma’s remark pleased her. No boy had ever been smitten with her.

  “No, that young man cares deeply.”

  “Ahh, I don’t see it that way.” She fingered the scars on her neck and shook her head. “He doesn’t.”

  “Meet his eyes, and you’ll make out his devotion to you. Them bluish-green eyes sparkle like a leaf-covered mountain reflected in a duck pond—especially, when he catches sight of you.”

  “A duck pond? Oh, you’re silly and stringing a real yarn, now.” Thoughts of Samuel with sparkling eyes—because of her—caused her to laugh.

  “No. Not so.”

  A low whimper came from the cradle near the fireplace. “I’ll see to him,” Ella said.

  Velma waved a hand at her. “I’ll go.”

  Ella watched the young woman rise and maneuver sideways along the bench. Her movements were slow and shuffled. Even more than a month since the baby’s birth, she remained weak. Granny said the husky baby boy had taken the strength clean out of Velma.

  She pursed her lips. She hated what Gust Clanders had done to Velma. She hadn’t repeated the things Samuel discovered about the missing man. She knew the rumors wouldn’t comfort her friend, but only make her burden heavier. It seemed best to leave it an unrevealed subject.

  For now, she had school to consider. Her mind whirled with possibilities. She felt heady with excitement and anticipation. Perhaps, she could complete all grades and become a teacher or an artist. She had intentionally shoved all hopes and dreams of a future out of her mind.

  Velma turned with Adam cuddled in her arms, and Ella left the table to go see him. His chubby fists beat the air over the edge of a small scrap of blanket. Gently, she touched his fingers and felt them curl around one of hers.

  “Velma, he’s such a good baby.” For just seconds, she thought of baby Timothy and her heart clenched with the old ache.

  “He’s my sweet baby.” Velma kissed his smooth forehead, below the shock of fuzzy brown hair. “I was so depressed this week, thinkin’ over our meager life, but no more. I feel happier ‘cause you picked moccasin flowers downs by the creek and brought them to me. You’re a kind-hearted girl, Ella Dessa.”

  Ella smiled and glanced over at the delicate, slipper-like spring flowers she had found and wrapped in wet moss. She had presented the
combination of yellow flowers and gray moss to Velma, in hopes of lifting the woman’s spirits. They now occupied a stoneware jar on the table.

  “You acted so weary and dispirited. I had to do somethin’.”

  “Well, you did the right thing.” She sat in the rocker near the fire and unbuttoned her dress top. “I must have good milk. He’s gettin’ fat on it. I should’ve had twins.”

  Ella laughed, tickled at the woman’s buoyant sense of humor. “Oh, don’t wish that on yourself.”

  “No chances of it happenin’ now.” Her hazel eyes widened with an unexpressed surge of apparent emotion. It engulfed her, and her chin quivered. “Ella Dessa, I knows he’s not set to come back.”

  Ella faced the fire and bit at her bottom lip. She crossed her arms, hugged her chest, and struggled with whether she should tell Velma or remain silent. But this time, she let go of her original resolve.

  “Perhaps, you’re right.” She faced her friend. “He hasn’t been seen by anyone since before Christmas. At least ways, that’s what Samuel tells me he heard. Your husband’s either missin’ or gone elsewhere to pan for gold.”

  “By missin’, they mean—dead.”

  “Some think he had no plans to come back. I’m sorry.”

  Velma stared straight ahead without blinking. She rocked and patted the bottom of the baby. In the quiet room, the smacking sound of Adam’s mouth against the exposed breast seemed extra loud.

  “I think he’s dead.”

  Ella inhaled. “Don’t say that.”

  “No, listen to me. I don’t feels him in my being. It’s as if he’s gone for good. Many times, I prayed for God to stop the beatin’s. Guess he did.”

  “You have no proof.” She turned to the fire and grimaced, wishing she hadn’t broken Samuel’s confidence. She pressed her hands to her chest and closed her eyes. She had hurt Velma needlessly.

  “Look at me, Ella Dessa.”

  She obeyed immediately, caught off guard by the sternness in the woman’s voice.

  “Sorry.” A slightly amused smile registered on Velma’s thin lips. “I didn’t means to make it a command. It’s just that, if the worst is found out and he’s dead, you’ll knows why I ain’t grievin’. I commenced to grieve many years ago. My heart was torn from me and laid bare. I never plan to love ag’in. There—I said it.” She pressed the baby’s hand to her pale lips.

  “I’m glad you’re not bein’ hit no more, but what will you—I mean, what will we do? Foods gone, ‘cept what families still bring us. The cows were traded for meal and goods. We ate your chickens.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She hunched over the infant in her lap, as if protecting him from harm and reality. Her thin arms encircled his blanketed body.

  “Don’t cry.” Ella went to the rocker and knelt. “Please, don’t cry.”

  “There’s no answer—no answer.” Huge tears dampened the woman’s worn cheeks, following new wrinkles formed by her drastic weight loss. “God only knows. We have to rely on the good wishes an’ provisions of others.” A sob shook her skinny shoulders.

  “We can’t cry. The little ones will see. It’ll scare them.”

  Mae and Rosemary had been sitting in the center of Velma’s bed with Carrie’s three rag babies. The quiet childish hum of their voices blended as they pretended to coddle real babies. Since the older children started school, the girls had become closer, playing together more often.

  “You’re so right.” Velma wiped at the tears remaining on her face. “What’s to be gained by tears? I just don’t knows what to do. I do feel helpless.”

  Ella agreed about feeling helpless, but a thought sprang into her mind. “Would you differ to me seein’ if there’s a need for help at the store?”

  “Help?”

  “Perhaps, I could work for Mr. Beckler.”

  Velma swiped away final tears of defeat. She nodded. “We must try.” Her troubled eyes focused on the jumping flames. “We can’t continue to be beholden to others. I haves my pride.”

  “Then, it’s settled. Monday I’ll walk the children to school and tell Master Konrad I may attend. After school, I’ll inquire of Mr. Beckler.”

  “Ahh, poor Samuel will be so sad he’s not walkin’ my little ones here and bringin’ lessons to you.”

  “He won’t be sad.” Ella grinned. “He’ll be relieved. Besides, we’ll see one another at school, and he can go straight home afterwards.”

  *******

  Monday morning, Ella stepped into the simple log building serving as both church and schoolroom. Eyes watched as she walked to Master Konrad’s desk and set her leather-bound copybook and the bottle of ink on his desk. She faced the teacher while Carrie, Remy, and Scott took their usual seats.

  “Velma says I may start school.” She felt almost giddy. Her wide smile caused her cheeks to ache.

  “Well, Miss Huskey, we’re sure pleased you’ve joined us.” Konrad’s dark-lashed eyes swept the room and the fifteen students occupying the backless church benches. “I believe the vacant seat by Samuel will be yours. I don’t separate boys and girls like most teachers do. Grades go together. Coats go on the pegs and lunch baskets on the floor underneath them. All written sessions will be done at the two tables. Here’s your slate.” He smiled at her. “Take your seat Miss Ella Dessa Huskey.”

  Wiggling his eyebrows as a silent welcome, Samuel tapped his finger on the space next to him and grinned. Ella hung her coat, set the basket containing hers and the others’ lunches on the floor beneath it, and went to sit beside him. She felt herself blush at all the eyes watching her, and she tugged at her blouse collar, to make sure her scars remained covered.

  Samuel’s elbow jabbed into her side.

  She peeked sideways at him.

  “You didn’t tell me at church yesterday.” He whispered out of the corner of his mouth, lips barely moving. He managed to keep his eyes on the teacher and didn’t look at her.

  Ignoring his comment, she lifted her chin a notch and folded her hands on top of the slate in her lap. She enjoyed his apparent surprise and felt a joyous satisfaction in knowing she managed to keep it a secret from Samuel McKnapp.

  The hours flew by, and school ended for the day. Her head swam with all the subjects covered, but contentment nestled in her heart. She was where she longed to be—in school—and she had much to learn.

  Ella told Carrie and Scott to wait outside of the school. She needed to collect her copybook and makeup assignments from the teacher. Her hands shook so, she had to place her palms on the rough desk and press down. She watched Grace’s husband carefully pen out what he wanted her to study and memorize. She felt amazed at his precise handwriting and hoped she could one day write as well and with total ease.

  “It’s in the Bible, Ella Dessa. Have it memorized for presentation to the class by this Friday. I’m keeping your copybook because I didn’t have a chance to go over the assignment you finished.”

  “Presen … tation?”

  “Yes, you’ll stand before the class and recite the passages in Psalms I’ve written down. I require it of all the upper grades.”

  “But, I ain’t—I’ve never done that.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. Her mouth went dry. She laid her right hand over the few inches of scars visible above her collar and said, “I don’t think I can. I can’t stand and talk—in front.” Her bottom lip quivered. In her mind, she saw all the children staring at her neck as she stood before them. “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

  His kind eyes swept over her neck and up to her face. “Yes, I do. Doing the recitation will be the best thing you could ever accomplish.”

  Tears dripped down her face, and she shook her head. “No—”

  “I have faith in you. You’ve got courage, and you’ll carry out the task.” His attractive blue eyes reminded her of an early morning summer sky. “Ella Dessa, don’t let your fears hold you back. Speak with confidence, and no one will take their eyes off your face.”

  “But�
��” In her head, she chided herself. Keep quiet about your scars. She listened to her inner voice and nodded. “I’ll try. I need to go. Velma’s children …” She pointed at the door.

  He nodded and dismissed her.

  She bounded down the steps of the church building and into the warm sun. Samuel stood near the trail with Carrie, Remy, and Scott.

  “You waited?” Ella dried her damp cheeks with her hand and untied her shawl. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Thought I’d walk you as far as Beckler’s. Scott says you’re stopping there.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “A mite warm.” Samuel used his hat as a fan—waving it in front of his face. He squinted in the afternoon sunlight. “But with the sun dropping, it’ll cool down fast and get cold for the night.”

  “Are you also stopping at the store?”

  He hesitated and put his hat on. “No.” He spoke to Ella but gazed directly at Scott. “I wanted to speak to you—ask you something.”

  Scott stood frowning at him. “Is it private?”

  “No.” He turned his back on Scott and faced Ella. “I saw a carpet of tiny blue flowers covering the stones by the creek. There must be thousands of them. Do you want to go look at them with me? They practically drip over the stones and into the water.”

  “Can’t. I have business to tend to.” She watched other schoolchildren disappearing along different paths. They all carried the wraps and coats that had kept them warm earlier in the day. “I’m goin’ to ask Mr. Beckler to let me work for him.”

  “You? Work?”

  “Ain’t that what I said?” She pressed her lips together to stop any other clarification, turned, and hurried away. Samuel trotted to catch up and fell in step with her. Carrie and Scott lagged behind them with Remy chattering and kicking stones.

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Samuel shoved his hat upward and scratched at his head. His hair appeared sweaty and darker in color where it met his forehead. “I mean, with all you do at Velma’s?”

  She sighed, trying to master a look of indignation. “Samuel, are you sayin’ I shouldn’t help her in this way?”