“How’s your leg mendin’?”
“Bothers me some, but I’m gettin’ round.” They stood, regarding one another for a time, and then Ellis put his hat back on his head and met Fergus on the front lawn. “Mind takin’ a walk with me?”
“Sure you up for it?” Fergus asked, observing Ellis’s painful limp.
“For a while anyway,” Ellis assured him. They walked aimlessly side by side until they were away from the house. “Clairey tells me you’re to have a baby,” Ellis remarked. “That so?”
“Yeah.” Fergus was clearly puzzled by where Ellis was headed with his conversation. “What’d you come for, Ellis?”
“I ’preciate all you done while I’s laid up, how you took care of my place and all.”
“Weren’t nothin’.” Fergus waved his hand dismissively.
“Now, don’t make light of it,” Ellis protested. “It weren’t nothin’.”
“You’re my friend. It’s what any friend a-done.”
Ellis felt a tug at his conscience. He had always harbored a hint of disdain for Fergus Bayard. He seemed like such a ridiculous character, somewhat pathetic in his looks and manner. But then, when Ellis had needed someone, it had been Fergus that had been there for him. He had said some things he regretted now, had poked some fun and held a certain amount of contempt for him. Ellis didn’t want to admit to even himself that he had felt somewhat superior even. He realized now that he had been the inferior of the two all along.
“I come to say thank you and to try and return the favor, if you’ll let me.”
“What d’you mean?”
“My daddy’s place,” Ellis answered.
“What of it?”
“Coy Struthers done offered me twelve hundred for it.”
“You gonna take it?”
“I come to offer it to you instead. Coy wants it bad, but I’s thinkin’ on it, how you’d be close to Elvira’s daddy. You’d have your own place, and I aim to give it to you for two hundred less than what Coy offered.”
Fergus stopped in his tracks, his expression troubled. “Do what?”
“Well, now, you’re gonna have to work on the cabin, and it needs a new barn and all, but I figure it’d be a good place for you to start out with,” Ellis explained.
“You’d do that?” Fergus asked. “I thought you was of a mind not to sell it at all.”
“Changed my mind.”
“It’s awful nice of you to offer, but I can’t afford that,” Fergus said, digging his hands into his pockets.
“I was thinkin’ you can move on in and pay me half with your first crop, and the next year you can pay me the second half. That way it won’t be too much of a burden on you.”
“What ’bout Mama? I can’t just up and leave her,” Fergus debated. “What’ll become of her if I leave?”
Ellis studied him closely, perplexed by the reluctant man who stood before him. He had offered him deliverance, and Fergus didn’t want it. Either he didn’t understand or couldn’t see that living with his mother was a bad thing all the way around. Loyalty was one thing, but loyalty to the point of stupidity an entirely different one altogether. He questioned whether Fergus would ever be capable of leaving his mother.
“She got three daughters that live just a stone’s throw away, Fergus. They can hep out now and again. And you’d be close enough to come up and hep out too, if you had a mind to.”
“Them girls, they don’t come round near what they ortta. All Mama gots is me to depend on. She says so many a-time. She ain’t gonna be on this here earth much longer. Yessir, her days is numbered. And I can’t leave her now that she needs me the most.”
“You prob’ly right. It was just an idea. If you ain’t gonna take it, I aim to sell to Coy Struthers. Thought I’d give you first choice, is all. But Coy, he wants it awful bad, so I s’pose it’d be best.”
“Don’t mean to seem ungrateful, Ellis. It was real nice of you to consider me. But Elvira and me, we ain’t ready yet to go out on our own. Not with Mama so sick and all. Why, she’d die if we was to leave her.”
“I hear what you sayin’, but you gotta think of Elvira and the child too, what’s best for them. You gotta see to their needs.”
Fergus grew defensive. “I’m a-carin’ for her. She got a roof over her head, and she ain’t hurtin’ for nothin’.”
“I never said it was any other way, Ferg. I’s just sayin’ you ortta consider on what she thinks, what she wants. You murried to her and not to your mama.”
“Is that what them boys in town is sayin’? Is that what you sayin’ ’bout me? ’Cause I won’t have it, Ellis. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me bein’ a good son. She done raised me right, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with me carin’ for her and makin’ her comfortable in her old age. And I’ll have words with anybody that says otherwise. You hear?”
“I didn’t come to cause no trouble. S’pose I’ll be on my way then.” He turned around and headed back for the house and his truck.
Fergus yelled out, “Ellis!”
Ellis stopped and turned back to him. “Yeah.”
“What you was gonna do, well, I thank you.”
“Think nothin’ of it,” he replied with a forced smile.
“I’ll see you round.”
“See you round.” He went to turn around again, but Fergus called to him once more.
“Ellis?”
“Yeah.”
“We still friends, ain’t we?”
“Yeah, Fergus. We still friends.”
Before he changed his mind, he went up to the old place he and Jim had called home. The cabin was quiet, strangely haunting as he walked through, familiar but foreign all at the same time. There were only a few odds and ends left in the empty rooms. He disassembled the iron bed and loaded it on the truck along with some oil lamps and a clock in a wooden crate. When he came out into the yard, the burnt barn in ruins was a stark reminder of what had befallen the owner.
The barn was reminiscent of his own story, his own identity. All that he had known—his history as he knew it—lay in the dust like the old burnt-out shelter. He himself had not changed, but his story was forever gone, destroyed just as surely as fire had ravaged that place.
He walked through the ash, kicking the ground with the toe of his boot now and again, thinking it was once an impressive building, large and spacious. How could one rebuild something so solid and sturdy? Where would he begin? Ellis knew the answer. Deep down, he knew that the barn would be rebuilt, maybe better than before. It would rise again over the ruins of the old building to be a sturdy and useful place.
Chapter 23
NERVES TAUT, FEELING DESPERATE, Clairey was worthless all the day. Since that morning when Ellis had driven away, she had felt her world crumbling down upon her. Out of fear for his safety, because she knew he was in a bad place, she’d tried to stop him. He had to have seen her, heard her call out his name, but he hadn’t even acknowledged her. She’d stood helplessly, watching him go with a dread that filled her up. He’d been in no condition to be alone. It was all her fault. All of it. Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut?
The real torture was in not knowing. Where was he, and what was he doing? She had no need to water the field since it had rained the night before, so she cared for the animals and did a load of wash to keep herself busy. She filled the two wash tubs with water, using one for the soapy work and the other for the rinsing. Clairey vigorously went at the clothing with a bar of lye soap, wrung the garments with her hands, dipped them several times in the rinse water and then processed them through a crank-powered wringer, where they fed through to her basket waiting on the other side. Once she had finished with the actual washing, she hung it on the line to dry. There was something about spotless laundry hanging on the line, clean and crisp as it moved with the wind, that was therapeutic.
Mostly, Clairey simply paced through the house, looking for something that would keep her mind off her current trouble, but finding nothing,
she simply sat, her mind going in a hundred different directions. Where had he gone? Would he return or had he left for good? She couldn’t believe that of him. That place meant too much for him to abandon it. And she…did she mean anything to him?
The anxiety tore at her, made her stomach feel weak as it churned in her gut. “Oh, Lord, please…please…” she begged with her hands clasped tightly. She didn’t have to say anything more. She knew that God knew what she was pleading for.
The shadows grew deeper in the tiny home, and the air cooled as evening set in. She stoked the fire in the cooking stove in preparation to begin a meal. She heard the tires on the drive before she could see the truck. She had strained to hear that sound all day, and now that it was real, she questioned whether she was just imagining it. But the old red truck came over the ridge, and relief flooded her. She rushed down the steps as Ellis climbed out then flung her arms around his waist, pressing her face hard into his chest until she thought she might not be able to breathe.
Ellis did not react, his arms limp, his face carefully blank, which only made her cry harder as she clung to him, sobbing into his shirt. That was when he seemed to respond. She knew Ellis was a good man, and he probably couldn’t help but comfort her. That was just the sort of person he was. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and used his free hand to pet her hair, stroking it tenderly.
She finally fell silent, and they stood there in the yard, embracing for some time. Finally, she pulled away from him to look up into his face. He didn’t seem the same somehow; there was something different about him.
“I didn’t know if you was comin’ back or not,” she said.
He gave her a frail smile. “’Course I come back.”
“Where was you?”
“Had business in town,” he told her.
“I’s just puttin’ supper on.”
“Sounds good. I’m awful tired,” he said. “To the bone tired. I gotta unload this here bed. I figured on storin’ it in the barn, and then I’ll be up to the house.”
She nodded and drifted back up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Clairey, who now had a purpose, began busying herself by frying potatoes. She smiled when he came in. “You good and hungry?”
“Yeah. Smells good.” He went to the basin to wash, lingering over the task with careful deliberation, drying his hands before he sat down at the table. Clairey put a plate in front of him and loaded it with food. He waited for her to sit next to him and then bowed his head in prayer. “Dear, Lord,” he began. “We thank you for the terbaccer, for the farm, and for all you’ve given us. We thank you for food to fill our bellies and a home to call our own. Amen.”
“Amen.”
He went about buttering his bread, cutting his meat.
“It ain’t much,” she apologized. “Couldn’t seem to keep my mind on things.”
“You ain’t had no rest.”
“I’m all right,” she assured him.
Ellis studied her closely, quietly, with an intensity that made her nervous. “I got somethin’ for you.”
“For me?” She cocked her head, her eyes widening, and she felt her face grow hot.
“Yep. But you gotta share it with me.”
“What is it?” She’d had few gifts in her life, so it was difficult for her to fathom what it might be.
Ellis stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a sock with something in the toe. Clairey looked at it, puzzled.
“Go ahead,” he encouraged, pushing it toward her. “Open it.”
She wavered, her hand slowly hovering above the sock, carefully taking hold. Then, she rolled the sock down until she found, kept in the deepest part, a roll of paper money in a rubber band. Clairey looked back up at Ellis with questions in her eyes. “Where’d you get this from?” she whispered. It almost frightened her to hold that money in her hand. In her whole life, she had handled maybe a penny or two, nothing like this wad of bills. She looked at Ellis with uncertainty, wondering how he had gotten the money, worried that his rash behavior had led to something that might have gotten him into some sort of trouble.
“I sold that there farm,” he said, shoveling a large portion of potatoes into his mouth before he had to explain himself any further.
“Your daddy’s place?”
“Yep.”
“But…Ellis, you wanted to keep it. You tole me so,” she protested.
“Weren’t doin’ us no good just sittin’ there.”
“But you said you’s gonna keep it.”
“Went up and offered it to Fergus Bayard. Thought it’d be good for him and Elvira to make a start of it there. But he wouldn’t have it. He’s worried ’bout leavin’ his mama. Coy Struthers was wantin’ it anyhow. I just offered it to Fergus as a favor. He don’t want it, so’s I tole Coy he could have it. Now that’s only part of it,” he said, pointing to the money. “He aims to pay the rest come harvest time.”
“Why’d you sell, Ellis?” she questioned. “Why? You said your daddy wouldn’t a-wanted it.” After everything she had done to ensure that Ellis could keep the farm, he had sold it. She was confused, yes, but more than anything, her heart hurt. She wondered if nearly killing herself to get the tobacco in had meant anything to him.
Ellis grew just a bit defensive. “My daddy left me that land to do with as I please. I worried ’bout what he’d think of me if I sold. But then, he ain’t here no more to tell me one way or the other. And I figured he’d want me to make somethin’ of it. Since I can’t work it myself, that money’s gonna hep us. And that’s what he woulda wanted.”
“You thought it through? That’s really what you want?”
“Yes.” He stopped eating and dropped his eyes, concentrating on his plate. He struggled to find words, pressing his clasped knuckles into his forehead. He didn’t look at her when he said it. “That money there, it’s for you to start out new some other place.”
Her gaze narrowed, and she grew alarmed. “You’re sendin’ me away then?”
“I ain’t sendin’ you nowheres,” he objected. He knew immediately that he had messed up, that he had somehow said the wrong thing. “I’m lettin’ you go,” he clarified.
“You don’t want me round no more?” There was an agony in her voice that tugged at his heart.
“Ain’t that neither.” He was trying to collect his thoughts, to remember the words he had rehearsed in his head on his way home in the truck. “You never had no choice in it, and it ain’t right. With that money, you could go wherever you pleased, and you could do with yourself whatever you pleased.”
“What if I don’t wanna leave?” she cried. “You turnin’ me out? That it? You makin’ me go? What if I don’t wanna?”
“I ain’t makin’ you do nothin’. That’s what I’m a-sayin’ to you. You shoulda been allowed to say for yourself what you wanted, who you wanted to murry and such. I’m tryin’ to make it right, is all.” He hesitated. “I ain’t fit to be your husband. I ain’t fit to be nobody’s husband.”
“Why are you sayin’ such things?”
“I said things ’bout your daddy afore I left. And I didn’t have no right to. ’Least you got a daddy. ’Least you knowed who your daddy was. I don’t got no family, don’t got no mama nor a daddy. I ain’t fit to be your husband. Ain’t fit to be nobody’s husband. Ain’t even got a name to give you.”
“Ellis—”
“You’re a good woman, Claire. Truth is, you deserve somethin’ better than this, and I can’t give it to you. You ain’t the same as you was when you first come here. Why, look at you. You learned to read, and look at all you done. Look at how you got that crop planted. Why, now, you can do anything. And you can do a whole lot better than this. You shoulda had better than this.”
“You ain’t makin’ no sense,” she said, confused by his behavior. “What happened to you in town?”
“I went to see Doctor Fielding.” He paused. “I tole him all that you said ’bout him bein’ there when I’s born. He tole
me…well, he done tole me ’bout my daddy.”
“What?” she pressed. “What’d he say?”
“My daddy weren’t my real daddy,” Ellis said flatly.
“I don’t understand.”
“Doctor said my daddy had a wife that died all right, and a baby too. And he come to see the doctor, and I’s there. I’s just born, and my real mama, she done died in childbirth. Doctor says my mama, she weren’t respectable, and they didn’t know who my real daddy was. So when my daddy says he wants me ’stead of me goin’ to the children’s home, the doctor gave me to him.”
“Jim Hooper weren’t—”
“No,” Ellis answered before she could finish. “Now you know it. And I’m lettin’ you decide for yourself where you wanna go and what you wanna do with yourself, Claire.”
Clairey set the roll of money on the table. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want nothin’ from you. If you want me to leave, then you just say it. I’ll leave if that’s what you want. But I aim to stay, if it’s all the same to you. I aim to stand by you.”
“I don’t got no daddy. That don’t bother you?”
Clairey pursed her lips together. He had seen her make that face before, always when she was determined, when she was hunkering down for something that required all her strength. “Ellis, far as I can see, you got a daddy, and his name is Jim Hooper,” she told him. “That man raised you and loved you. He gave you all he had and taught you all he knowed. That’s what a daddy does. So you think on it awhile, and you gonna come to see what I’m sayin’s true. Ain’t no shame in what was done for you. He made a good man outta you and gave you life, and that ortta be what counts in it all. Truth is, flesh and blood don’t make for a real daddy.”
She pushed her chair out and walked away, out into the night to collect her laundry from the line. Ellis leaned his forehead against his fists again, wishing it had gone better, that he had said it right. He toyed with the roll of money and then shoved it back into the sock, angry that he had messed it up so badly.
He knew that she wouldn’t leave, that she would stand by him no matter what. Clairey was not the kind to walk away. It was no good for her, married to the laughing stock of the county. But he would never make her see that. She was not capable of being disloyal. He doubted if she would ever leave him, even if it was the best thing for her.
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