Good Ground

by Tracy Winegar

  As perilous as the storm had been, Ellis couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of it. The branches of the trees bowed heavily beneath their burden, laden with snowflake atop snowflake, resembling the fluff of a down feather. It was nearly a religious moment, solemn in the quiet of the morning. But then Ellis contemplated how mean this land could be to a man. How it could swallow a person up whole, leaving no trace of him. If it didn’t kill him outright, it took its sweet time, stacking a load of burdens upon his back till it broke him down, made him old and weary. In the end, it would have him one way or the other. Yet he toiled over it. He sought to own it, wanted to bend it to his will, loved it, prayed over it, fretted for its welfare. And for what? To finally claim only enough of it for a grave. This red earth was a fickle thing that never reciprocated the feelings. He thought of his daddy buried beneath it now and how someday he would be too.

  Ellis pondered these things. He wondered why people were willing to struggle so hard in this life when they all ended up in the grave anyhow. The answer was right there. He could feel it teasing him, darting in and out just at the edge of his mind. But the solution remained elusive. Struggle as he might, he could not figure it out. He did not settle upon the fact that a person’s life was worth only the knowledge he had acquired and the relationships he had built. All else was left behind to rust. To ruin.

  He was pulled away from his musings, jolted suddenly back to his present situation by the rap of a knuckle on the window next to him. He started, waking the girl, who guiltily sprang away from him as he opened the door. Immediately the cold seeped into his skin, and he shivered as he climbed out of the truck to talk to the stranger who had happened upon them. His legs and feet tingled from the lack of circulation.

  “Dad gummit, my legs is dead,” he complained, bending down to massage them as pricking of his nerves sent pain through his lower half.

  “Looks like you done got yourselves in a real bad pickle,” the stranger observed.

  “Thank the Lord you come along. We been stuck here this whole night through. Nobody else happened by here but you, mister. And I’m obliged to you for stoppin’.”

  “It’s a wonder you ain’t froze to death,” the man said, eyeing the girl and then Ellis.

  She turned away under the stranger’s scrutiny. Ellis could see that she was worried about what the man might be thinking.

  “Lucky I seen you. Prob’ly wouldn’t have if it wasn’t on account of your truck bein’ red and all.”

  “I come down that ridge and—” Ellis whistled and struck his hands together, showing with one of his hands how he had glided right off into the ditch “—run plumb off the road. Stuck good too.”

  “Well, let’s see if we can’t get you outta there,” the stranger offered. “Will she start up?”

  “Don’t know. Ain’t tried.” Ellis got back in the truck and tried to get it running again. The first few attempts, the truck coughed, sputtered, and died out. But he persisted, and at last it roared to life. He put it in reverse and revved it, but it stayed stubbornly stuck where it was.

  “Have your little gal there guide it, and you and me’ll push,” he suggested.

  Ellis wanted to tell him that she was not his little gal. He thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. She, too, said nothing, only did as she was told. The two men pushed as she pumped the pedal. The results were the same. No luck, no progress.

  “She’s stuck good, all right,” the stranger mused. “Tell you what. I got me a piece of rope up yonder. I can tie it up from your truck to my automobile and try and pull you out.”

  “I’d be grateful to you,” Ellis said. He followed the stranger out of the ditch and to the road where his automobile was running idle. The two of them made fast work of it, tying one end of the rope to the truck, the other to the man’s car. Ellis eased himself into the truck and gunned it while the man tried backing his car at the same time. The old Red Baby moved a few inches before progress was stalled. The man came back, removed his hat, and scratched his head.

  “It ain’t a-goin’ to move.”

  “I got me a shovel in the back there. I maybe ortta dig myself out,” Ellis told him, shuffling through his stash of goods in the bed of the truck. He pulled out his brand new shovel and went to work. He cleared the snow out the best he could from around the front tires and then moved to the back, making a path all the way up to the road. It took him a good twenty minutes of digging, leaving a trail of frozen dirt chunks and mounds of snow in his wake. All the while, the stranger waited patiently in his car until Ellis gave him a wave, threw the shovel haphazardly back into the truck, and got behind the wheel once again, with a prayer to God that it would work.

  This time the truck did as it was directed and made its painfully slow way back onto the road. Ellis had never felt such relief in his life. The stranger came back and untied his rope.

  “Can’t tell you thank you enough,” Ellis said, giving his arm a strong pump as he shook his hand.

  “It wasn’t nothin’, neighbor. You be on the straight and narra again.” The stranger pulled around them and disappeared into the distance.

  “We’s on our way now,” Ellis told the girl as they headed along the road again.

  Instead of looking relieved, she looked frightened half out of her mind. They drove for another few miles before she directed him toward a gravel road with a few fresh ruts imprinted into the snow.

  “That there’s the place you turn off up yonder,” she told him.

  Ellis turned off the main road and followed it until she told him to turn again along a narrow dirt road that ended down in a lonely hollow. A shabby house on stilts, no bigger than Ellis’s own place, came into view, smoke belching from the crooked chimney. When they pulled up abreast the front porch, a swarm of half-naked little ones busted out the front door, clambering over the truck, whooping and carrying on like wild heathens.

  Ellis had seen the likes before. There were some who lived like savages, like nothing much better than animals. They were scattered here and there through the hills—people who didn’t know any better and some who didn’t care. Ellis turned and studied the girl he had rescued and realized, from her sad and unkempt appearance, that this was her lot in life. He felt a bit of pity and regret that he would have to leave anybody to this base existence. He let her out of the truck. He could sense that she was ashamed by the way she hung her head and the way she avoided his eyes. One of the ragged boys was picking through the goods Ellis had tied down in the bed of the truck.

  “Alfie, you get yourself down from there. That ain’t for you,” she scolded. “Go on! Get!”

  He jumped down, barefoot in the snow, and seemed not to notice the cold. The boy looked sideways up at her. “Where you been?”

  “That ain’t none of your concern,” she said firmly.

  “Daddy’s fit to be tied.”

  She tried to show a brave face. “Go on with you,” she said half-heartedly, and he took off without further prodding. It was then that Ellis noticed a woman standing in the doorway, a bare-bottomed baby at her hip, watching the interaction.

  The girl noticed her then too, her solemn face melting with relief. “Mama,” she cried, running up the stairs and across the porch to wrap her arms around the woman. Ellis followed sheepishly behind.

  “We was worried sick, girl,” the mother said, returning her daughter’s hug. She eyed Ellis over the girl’s shoulder. “Your daddy’s out a-lookin’ for you. Been gone all mornin’. Where you been?” Her tone was soft and filled with concern. She seemed like a kind lady. She pulled away and inspected her daughter, running a gentle finger over the goose egg that had formed on the girl’s brow.

  “It was somethin’ frightful, Mama. This here man, he offered me a lift home, and it was an awful storm. We was headed down that hill up yonder a-ways, and we went right off the road. Well, we done tried and tried everythin’ to get us outta that there ditch, and we ended up stuck there all the night long. Why, I thought we was
a-gonna die, Mama. But some feller come ’long in the mornin’ and pulled us out. It was so cold, and we was so hungry.”

  “You been through it, ain’t you?” her mother consoled, but Ellis could see that same worried expression on her face as her daughter was prone to wear. “I ain’t got much, mister, but you welcome at my table anyhow,” she said, nodding her head earnestly.

  Ellis grew modest, dropping his gaze to his feet and shrugging. “Thank you much, ma’am. It’s kind of you to offer, ’cause I didn’t do much but get her stuck in this here weather all night, but I was hopin’ I could just trouble you for somethin’ to drink, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Clairey, you get our guest here somethin’ to drink, will you?” her mother said, stepping aside to let him in.

  The interior of their little cabin was dimly lit, the primary source of light being the fireplace. The warmth in the room enveloped him. He noticed the sparse furnishings and the shabby appearance of the place. A middle-aged woman sat by the fire in a rocker, holding a toddler, the floor boards creaking in time with her measure. She acted as if she weren’t aware that anyone else was in the room with her, her expression carefully blank.

  The girl named Clairey retrieved a mason jar filled with well water from a bucket sitting in the dry sink and brought it back to Ellis.

  He drank it down in one gulp and held it out to her. “Can I trouble you for another? I got a powerful thirst.”

  She went and filled it up again and handed it over. Ellis was in the midst of finishing his second round when a large man in filthy overalls exploded through the door, his rifle clutched tight in his fist. Ellis jumped, taken completely off guard, the water he was consuming spewing out of his mouth and nose, all over the front of his coat and across the floor. He coughed and sputtered for a moment before he regained his composure and wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat. Ellis took a step back as he sized up the large man in front of him, with his wild beard that grew to the navel, his bald head, and broken and missing teeth.

  “Where the hell you been, girl?” he bellowed.

  The girl called Clairey let out a little whimper and took off at a run, retreating behind her mother, where she cowered in fear. It looked as if her mother would have done the same if there had been anyone else left to hide behind. The baby began to bawl, burying his eyes behind his dirty little fists.

  “Now…now, Joe,” the mother sputtered, “she be home safe and sound after a frightful night.”

  “Where?” he roared, obviously not appeased. “Where the hell’s the dirty little tramp been?”

  Ellis was horrified by the man’s behavior. He felt a duty to intercede on the women’s behalf. He thought that if he could just calmly explain the situation that Joe would cool off. He took a half-step forward, clearing his throat, and said with as much nerve as he could muster, “She was with me, sir.” It came out matter-of-fact like, as if he were presenting to a judge and saying, “These are the facts as I know them.”

  Clairey’s father turned his attention from the two cringing, trembling female figures to Ellis. His towering frame and hard eyes were deliberately meant to intimidate. “Well, damn it, boy, who’re you? What’s your business here?”

  Ellis tried to stand firm, to appear as if he weren’t rattled. “Name’s Ellis Hooper, sir.”

  “I ortta kill you!” he yelled, flying at him in a fury, putting his face to Ellis’s face. “What you mean havin’ my girl out all ayers of the night!”

  “Now, Joe, it weren’t nothin’ like that. This here boy was tryin’ to do good. He was bringin’ our girl home in that there storm, and his truck come off the road. They’s stuck till this mornin’,” Clairey’s mother tried to explain, but her voice was shaking and timid. It sounded unconvincing even to Ellis’s ears. “Look here at the knock she got in the head. She’s in bad shape.”

  “That the truth?” he asked Ellis, leaning in closer to him. “That what happened? Or was you out on other business?” His meaning was clear. Ellis didn’t care for the implications, and he didn’t care for the man’s threatening tone.

  “Daddy, it weren’t nothin’ bad. He’s just givin’ me a ride, Daddy,” Clairey cried, still safe behind the protection of her mother.

  “No, sir. No. It’s like they done said. She’s a walkin’ in the snow, and I was goin’ to give her a ride. We was on our way and went off the road up yonder ways and was stuck. Some feller come ’long this mornin’ and pulled us outta there. I brung her home straight a-ways. That’s all there was to it. I swear it, mister. That’s all that happened.”

  Joe paused for a moment, as if he were mulling their story over, and then snarled, “It don’t matter!”

  “It don’t matter?” Ellis repeated, perplexed by his reaction. A warning began to sound in his head, and the hammering of his heart was telling him to get out, to run and get away from that place.

  “I ortta bust you up, draggin’ her in after a night of carousin’!”

  “Carousin’? We done no such thing,” Ellis replied, indignant at what the man was suggesting.

  “You done ruint her!” Joe accused. “You done ruint her just the same.”

  “I didn’t do nothin’, mister,” Ellis responded, now fearful about where the man was going with his accusations.

  “What man’ll have her now? She been out all night, alone with some boy. Why, nobody’ll have the tramp. They’ll take her for used up.”

  “How’d they know one way or the other? Nothin’ happened and nobody knows no different!” Ellis protested.

  “She ain’t no good to me now. Not now that no man’ll have her,” Joe insisted. “She’s ruint, I say. You done ruint her.” His voice grew deafening with his conviction.

  Ellis looked around, sure that everyone else would be just as shocked as he at what the man was charging. The woman in the rocking chair continued to rock, stroking her child’s hair, remaining carefully neutral, while Clairey and her mother seemed too frightened to protest what was happening.

  “Nobody else’ll have her, so you gonna have her, boy,” Joe continued, his presence becoming more and more threatening as he pressed the tip of his finger into Ellis’s chest.

  “Now, now you tryin’ to skin me!” Ellis retorted, outraged by what was transpiring. “I’ll not have her!”

  “You say you won’t have her? You won’t have her? I say you will,” he growled.

  “Daddy, please…” Clairey begged, gathering enough courage to venture out from behind her mother. She tugged on his cuff.

  He flung her off, not breaking eye contact with Ellis.

  “Daddy, he didn’t do nothin’. He’s just tryin’ to give me a ride—”

  Joe turned on her with uncontrolled fury. “Shut it!” he roared, raising his hand as if he would strike her. She shrunk away from him. With her out of the way, he turned his attention back to Ellis. “I ortta kill you. That’s what I ortta do. Take a man’s daughter, keep her out all night, and don’t do right by her?”

  “I’s just givin’ her a lift. We didn’t do nothin’ wrong. You tryin’ to skin me, and I won’t have it!”

  “You won’t have it?” He looked as if it were taking all of his energy to control his rage. Then he pointed a quaking finger to the door and roared, “Get out!”

  Ellis was confused. He looked from Clairey’s father to Clairey to her mother. It was as if everyone were frozen, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid of what Joe might do next. Ellis slammed the jar down on the table and bolted for the door in a rush to get away from that place. He had nearly made it to the freedom of the outdoors when he heard Joe’s heavy steps behind him. He turned to see the big man following with his hand clutching Clairey by the hair, dragging her.

  “Daddy, no! No!” she yelped, trying unsuccessfully to plant her feet. But her frantic attempts to free herself were futile against his bulky strength, and she was hauled along easily despite her desperate resistance.

  Her mother rushed forward and begged, “No, Jo
e. Please stop!”

  She tugged on Clairey in the other direction, and Clairey all the while was yelping in pain as her hair and arm were pulled back and forth between the two of them. Joe gave his wife a vicious backhand that sent her and the baby sprawling. She lay there stunned, pressing her fingers to her mouth to stop herself from crying aloud.

  Ellis spun around, on alert, ready to either bolt or defend himself. “I done said I won’t have her!” he shouted, sweeping his hands in an arc in front of him in an effort to show that he meant it.

  “She ain’t no good to me no more. Not now that no man’ll have her, so the dogs’ll have her! It’s all you’re fit for is the dogs!” He sent her spinning past Ellis with a powerful thrust of his hand, out through the door and into a heap on the front porch.

  “What in the—” Ellis stammered. He backed out of the doorway, stumbling over the threshold, nearly losing his footing. He turned and ran for the truck as the door shut with the sound of thunder. He scrambled behind the wheel, ready to speed away from the place, until he caught sight of Clairey on her knees, banging pathetically on the door.

  “Daddy, please,” she begged. “Please, Daddy. I didn’t do nothin’!” She was weeping and hysterical, and it moved him.

  How could he leave her there like that? How could he drive away, knowing she had been turned out in the cold? He simply could not abandon her. Slowly, he got out of the truck and walked back up the steps, standing over her for a minute or two, unsure of what he should do.

  “Daddy, please!” she continued to wail.

  Ellis squatted down next to her and put his hand gently on her shoulder. “Clairey…” Her name sounded strange on his lips for the first time.

  She ignored him, pounding more desperately, raising her voice in a fevered pitch. “I’m sorry, Daddy! Please! Please!”

  “Clairey,” Ellis said softly, “you come on with me now.”