Ghost on Black Mountain

by Ann Hite

  The day that nice young man Jack Allen came down from Black Mountain with Nellie’s letter in his hand brought the hardest day I ever looked into with my eyes open. The paper felt hot to touch. That was my warning. I tried not to show my fear, not to jump to conclusions. I thanked him and sent him on his way. I hadn’t heard a word, not one word, from Nellie since she called herself marrying Hobbs Pritchard.

  Those few short sentences told me her future. We had come to this, me and her. I would have went to cry on Marge’s shoulder, but she had passed on two months earlier. I told myself, Josie, if you can pull off this one, you can do anything. God never gave me more than I could handle, but I had to take issue with Nellie committing one of the worst sins in the Good Book. She might as well have held a gun to her own head. But doom was exactly what I saw in those tea leaves. She made her choice, and the part of me that is pure woman understood all the way to the bone. So, I packed up my clothes, got in my old Plymouth truck, and took out to meet her. I cursed myself the whole way for not marching up that mountain and putting Hobbs Pritchard in his place. I failed as her mama. Me and her daddy made our share of mistakes and brought a lot of history to our little family. I guess it could be said we passed on our habits, some good and some bad. We didn’t know no better. Just like everyone else, we were writing our lives as we went.

  One of the worst things I ever done in my whole life was hurt my mama by going against her wishes. She always wanted something better for me than she had for herself. Ain’t that the way of a mama? She gave me her own dream of getting a decent education. Me? I thought that was pie in the sky. Girls didn’t go to college. Most of the time they didn’t even finish high school before they up and married a man picked out for them. Shoot, women weren’t even allowed to vote. How could any of us be something big like a doctor or a judge? Mama told me from the start that if I married, I wasn’t going to see anything but struggles. Did I listen? Shoot no. The day I saw Owen Clay standing in front of the church congregation, smiling his toothy grin, I fell in love with him. As if I knew what love was. In front of me stood what I wanted more than anything, and I figured if he had any wrongs, I could iron them right out like a wrinkled dress shirt. Lord, that’s the worst thing a woman can do, love a man so much she can’t see reason. It’s a disease we women have carried in our blood since Eve. Cause wasn’t it Eve that got blamed for that mess in the garden? Mind you, she was dumb. I’m not arguing one minute about that. But what did she have to go on? She didn’t have no mama or daddy to blame for being bad examples. She got roped into sin by a smooth-talking serpent. Sometimes I wonder if Satan didn’t reveal himself in the flesh. And don’t you know he had the most beautiful eyes to stare into. It’s them eyes that get us women each and every time. Anyway, I figured Adam put Eve up to that apple-eating incident. Don’t you know she went home after talking to the snake and told Adam what was said? I can hear him now: “Eve, I bet that snake knows what he’s talking about. Why don’t you go on over there and pick us a couple of apples? I got a backache.”

  Nobody held a gun to Adam’s head and made him eat the dern thing. But you wouldn’t know it from the way the preachers tell the story. Lord no. I bet if a woman could stand in the pulpit for one hour, she’d set the congregation straight. But women didn’t have no voice in the church when I was coming up.

  I married Owen in 1918 on a sunny April day. He was a good husband, but I’m not going to lie, he had his ways. He had no tolerance for my talking. I learned to keep my chattering down. He also didn’t see one reason for me to have any money of my own. I found that out the hard way.

  “Look here, Owen, what Daddy gave us for marrying. I bet we could buy a house.” I fanned the bills out in my hand. A dark look flew over Owen’s face. Then I saw white. He hit me three times before I let him have the money. Now, don’t get the wrong idea. Owen wasn’t a wife beater. He only hit me one other time, when Nellie was eight, and he was drunker than a coot. That one don’t count.

  A week after he took my money I stood in the kitchen stirring navy beans and baking cornbread. I thought we could crumble the cornbread into sweet milk. Lordy, that was a treat to me. Owen worked at the stone quarry and made a decent living. We had us a little rented house near the church.

  His old Buick had a ticking in the engine that nearly drove him crazy but he couldn’t ever make it stop. When he turned down the road coming home from work, I’d hear tick, tick, tick. I’d run my hand through my hair and practice my smile.

  Owen was early on that afternoon. When he came in the door with a big smile, I caught my breath. He was pretty to look at when his face was lit up.

  “Come here, girl.” He wrapped his big hands around my waist and lifted me into the air. “I got you a surprise.” He sat me down on the floor again.

  I giggled, caught up in his happiness.

  He held a big key in front of me. “I bought you something today.”

  My stomach churned and sweat broke out on the back of my neck.

  “Aren’t you even going to act happy?”

  “What’s that key for?” I turned on my big fake smile.

  “Come on and I’ll show you.” He pulled me by the hand.

  I still had my apron on, but I didn’t raise one word to him.

  We drove and drove through the streets of Asheville. Almost like he didn’t know where he was. A couple of times I held my breath because he went down streets with big fancy houses, but then he turned onto Settle Road. All the houses were four-room boxes, sitting next to the tracks. He stopped in front of one with peeling yellow paint. Surely I could give it a new paint job and plant some flowers out front.

  Owen slid the skeleton key into the key hole, wiggled it, and then turned. “This is our new home, sweetie. We’re going to have our babies here.”

  I managed not to scream. “This looks real nice, Owen.” A mouse scurried across the kitchen floor.

  “See, we got us a big window in the living room.” He beamed.

  I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to be looking at through that fancy window. More little run-down box houses or a train coming through, I guessed. “Mama’s chair will be perfect there.” I pointed to a corner. Mama had given me a green upholstered high-back chair. “The room will be real pretty.” This was the thing. Daddy gave us enough money to buy a big fancy house. But I couldn’t ask no questions. Women didn’t get involved with the buying and selling. Owen probably spent it on drinking anyway.

  We made a handsome couple, Owen and me. He was tall, dark, and had deep brown eyes that convinced me he was always right. Next to him, I was small and quiet in a pretty but simple kind of way.

  “I wish my mama had lived to see this house. It’s not as fancy as our house in Darien, but it’s ours.” He grinned.

  I got a tiny glimpse of the man I married, the man I had to find peace and make a life with.

  Twenty-four

  We’d only been married two years when I found out I was going to have Nellie. It was the summer of 1920 and women were busy winning the right to vote, meaning my baby girl would come into a world that gave women a better life.

  Owen just made a face when I pointed it out. “Women already got the world by the tail. Men work and they stay home looking pretty. How hard is that?”

  I wanted to throw a shoe at him. He’s lucky I didn’t. My being with child made me hate him at the time.

  The day my pains started, I sent word to Owen at the quarry to meet me at the hospital. We had argued for two months about having the baby at home. Owen felt hospitals were a waste of money. Me, I didn’t see any reason to live in the past. The truth was I didn’t like having a baby one bit.

  My neighbor, Marge Marks, took me to the emergency room in her Model T, talking to me the whole way. I don’t know what time Owen showed up but I do know thirty-six hours later Nellie came into the world and I promised myself I’d never have to go through that again.

  “It’s a girl, Mrs. Clay.” The nurse spoke softly.

&nb
sp; A girl. I wanted a girl. Nellie was the prettiest baby I ever laid eyes on. She didn’t even cry. I fell in love.

  Owen hovered in the door with a put-out look on his face. He was fretting on how he had missed a day of work. “So, it’s a girl?” His voice was flat and disappointed.

  “She’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.” I flashed him a big smile that invited him to join me.

  “Hm.” He walked to the bed and peeked into my bundle.

  “I think we’ll call her Nellie.” I waited.

  Owen’s lips drew up into a sour look. “Nellie. Where’d you get that name?”

  The truth was I dreamed it one night early on, but I didn’t dare tell him. He didn’t hold with dreams or any superstitions. “I just thought it was a right pretty name.”

  “I was thinking we’d call her my mama’s name, Pauline.”

  Owen never would speak about his mother, and now he wanted to name my child in honor of her. Something wasn’t right. “Oh, that’s a pretty name, but why don’t we call her Nellie Pauline?”

  “Why not Pauline first?” He was watching our baby close.

  “Don’t you think we need to keep your mama’s name just for her?”

  He thought a minute. “Yeah.” With one of his knuckles, he softly rubbed Nellie’s cheek. She turned, searching with her mouth. “One day I’m taking you to see where your daddy is from, little girl.” His forehead was smooth. Owen had his good sides and they always made me happy when they showed up.

  So that’s how Nellie came into the world. She dodged a bad name and charmed her daddy. Owen wasn’t all over me every night and that was the best gift I could have gotten. Frankly all that business was boring, dull as tarnished brass. I took care of our little house and Nellie. Owen never came home to an empty table, and I never did without anything I wanted. I guess you could say Owen and me had come to some kind of agreement in our marriage.

  Mama came across town every Wednesday to see her new grandbaby. Lord, she loved Nellie better than anything. She loved her so much she never brought up my mistake of marrying Owen, even though she must have seen evidence every time she walked in my door. One Monday morning, Mama came strolling up the walk wearing her prettiest hat and dress. That wasn’t like her.

  “Mama, you’re dressed up today. You got a doctor’s appointment?” I was glad to see her because Nellie had been fussy for days.

  Mama’s smile was weak and she looked a little pale.

  “Are you okay, Mama?”

  She went straight to her chair at the kitchen table. The sun poured in the yellow curtains she had made for the windows. “I’m better than I was early this morning, Miss Josie.”

  That was the name she called me when I was little and she had to give me some bad news.

  “Don’t you want to see Nellie?” Normally she would have grabbed the baby first thing.

  She folded her hands in her lap and tilted her head just enough to catch the sun in her blond hair, not one bit of gray. I got to thinking on how old she was. She sure wasn’t old enough to be a grandma. “I think I might have something catching, but I wanted to peek at Miss Priss this morning.” She stood and looked into the cradle.

  A little shudder ran across her shoulders that seemed suddenly frail. “It’s really kind of selfish. Lordy, this baby is going to see some hard times, Miss Josie, hard times.” She had tears in her eyes.

  I never got mad at my mama, but I was angry in that instant. “What’s wrong with you today, Mama?” My words were a bit sharp, but she was whispering to Nellie and didn’t pay me no mind.

  Mama stood up straight and pulled on her dress. “I got to go now. I just wanted to see you and tell Nellie a thing or two.”

  I reached out to touch her, but she pulled away. “What’s wrong, Mama? How’d you get here? I don’t see the car.”

  For a minute she looked confused, but then her face cleared. “You take care now, Miss Josie. I love you so much.” She moved to the door and Nellie began to wail.

  “Wait and I’ll walk with you.” I turned to get Nellie.

  “No need.”

  The door clicked as I pulled Nellie from her cradle. “Let’s go see where your grandma is going. Something just ain’t right.”

  Mama wasn’t anywhere to be seen. A horrible feeling crawled under my skin.

  Marge was sitting on her front porch. “Josie, who you looking for?”

  “Did you see my mama?”

  Marge looked at me a little strange. “Ain’t been a soul on this street for the past hour.”

  I didn’t argue. I thought of using Marge’s phone to call Daddy, but I knew he’d be in the fields. The strange feeling stayed with me into the afternoon.

  I was making my midday meal when I heard Daddy’s truck crunch the gravel in the drive. He had never come to my house. I threw open the door, trying not to show the panic in my chest.

  His face was a gray color. “I need you to come with me, Josie.”

  “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

  “Now, girl!” Daddy wasn’t one to yell at me, mostly because I stayed on his good side.

  “I got to let Owen know and get the baby.”

  “Hurry. I’ll stop at the quarry.”

  I wrapped Nellie in a blanket and rushed out to the truck.

  Daddy didn’t speak. He drove like he was somewhere else other than behind the wheel.

  “Did Mama make it back home?” I wasn’t looking at his face because Nellie was cooing. She’d been in a right good mood since Mama left. When Daddy stopped the truck in the middle of the road, I looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Are you pulling my leg, Josie?” His tone told me he was angry.

  “No sir. She came by this morning. She was dressed up pretty in her church clothes. She told me she was feeling poorly. I thought she seemed confused.” I didn’t tell him what Marge said.

  A car behind us started honking its horn. Daddy didn’t make a move. “You’re too old for lies, Josie.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “I ain’t lying.” What was wrong with him?

  He pressed the gas, and we headed for the quarry. “I ain’t never believed in haints.”

  “Neither have I.” I said this in a sharp voice.

  A shadow fell across his face. “If you’re telling the truth, and you ain’t never been a liar, then you saw a ghost today.”

  I looked at the side of his face, studying on him.

  “Your mama died this morning.”

  Cold air filled my lungs.

  “She was still in the bed when I left out. It wasn’t like her, but I let her rest.” He let his words sit between us a minute. “I told her to get up and call you to come take her to the doctor. I left her there.”

  I couldn’t open my mouth.

  “Are you listening, girl?” He looked over at me. “We got to get in touch with your sister.” Emily was older than me by six years. She’d been in Oklahoma for four years with her husband, Pete. She wasn’t going to come home. I knew this in the bottom of my heart. She was living high on the hog with her big farm and all. Nope, Asheville was dust under her feet.

  “When I came home for dinner, your mama was still in bed.” His voice broke. “I got mad cause I was hungry. I even yelled. When she didn’t answer, I went to look. She had this horrible look on her face like she died hurting. God help me for my selfish acts.”

  I’d seen Mama after she left her body behind. What had she whispered to Nellie?

  We stopped in front of the quarry. My heart was beating in my ears.

  “Go get Owen. We got a funeral to plan.”

  I’d watched Mama prepare my granny’s body. I knew what to do. The women in the family cared for the dead. It was my job since Emily wouldn’t be home. There would be lots of ladies from church coming over. They were gossipy old busybodies. Our whole church was against just about anything fun. Their view of Jesus involved a man who frowned on anything that might make a person happy. It was hard for me to swallow, but out of respect for
Mama and Daddy I always did what was expected of me and went to church.

  Mama was on her back, a sheet pulled up to her neck. “Lordy, Mama.”

  Daddy had covered the mirror and stopped the clock on the fireplace mantel. The covering of the mirror ensured that her spirit wouldn’t be trapped in the world, and stopping the clock marked the time of death. But not in Mama’s case. Who knew when she died?

  Mama’s body would be placed on the dining room table. I removed the lace tablecloth.

  “You need something?” These were Owen’s first words since we picked him up from the quarry.

  “You can get some water.”

  He nodded and left.

  Nellie had fallen asleep and was on a pallet next to the table.

  Owen was back with a big bowl. “Do you want me to move your mama in here?”

  I nodded, pouring some of Mama’s perfume into the warm water.

  He returned with her body, which didn’t give in to him like it would if she were still breathing, but in his arms, Mama looked like a child. A sob caught in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

  Owen placed her body tenderly on the table where she had served a dinner each Sunday after church. At that moment, I thought I could love him until we were both old. “You need me to stay here with you?”

  I wanted to ask him if he did this for his mama, washed her, got her ready for burying. “I’ll be fine. Just keep everyone, especially the nosy church ladies, out until I’m through.”

  He nodded. “No worry.” He lingered in the door. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was a good woman and I know she loved you a lot.” He kept his eyes on Nellie sleeping in her innocent little world. “Come get me if she starts crying. I think your sister wants your dad to come stay with her.”