Belle City

by Penny Mickelbury

  "They dead," Ernestine Smith said, wailing. "They got kilt on the second day of the New Year. The car turned over and run off the road and killed 'em."

  "Mr. Jonas, he won't do nothin', won't go nowhere, won't talk to nobody. We keep goin' over there and we clean and cook, just like always, but now one of us takes JJ to school and picks him up. We feed him and bathe him—we always did that—but his ma read him stories and sang little songs to him at night and Mr. Jonas, he don't do none of that. Every time he looks at that little boy, he starts cryin'. Mr. Jonas, I mean, and little JJ don't know what to do. Miss Rachel, Jonas's sister, she come 'round and tries to talk to him, and he'll listen to her—she's the only one he'll listen to—but he don't do nothin' but sit up in that room in the back holdin' a picture of Miss Audrey."

  "I'm just glad he ain't a drinkin' man," Ruby said, "'cause if he was, he'd a drunk hisself to death by now."

  Ruthie couldn't find words. Sam, Ruby and Ernestine, still in their tight circle around her, watched her, waiting, expecting. Something. "We didn't know." Mack would be devastated. He liked Audrey Thatcher very much. He liked Jonas, too. "I'll go tell my husband right away and we'll..." What? "If you still have the information sheet we gave you at the first BCCCTC meeting, my telephone number is on it. Please call me before you go back on Sunday." She shook each of their hands, thanked them for telling her about Jonas, and hurried home, very much aware of experiencing a complete opposite set of feelings than when she began her walk: Instead of numb emptiness inside, she was too full of feeling and emotion—pain, sadness, loss. A man's wife and one of his children had been killed. Her sons were merely endangered—not dead—and terror was her constant companion. One of them dead? As much as she feared that, she could not imagine it. And Mack: How would he be if she were suddenly killed? Her father had not, in more than twenty years, recovered from or reconciled the murder of his wife. Jonas! Poor Jonas. She ran the last block home as she remembered that Mack now came home early on Friday. He paid his men and let them go just after lunch in exchange for their working half an hour longer Monday through Thursday.

  Mack's initial disbelief turned so quickly to so deep a sorrow that Ruthie initially was frightened. She had never seen him display this kind or level of emotion. He dropped on to the couch—literally dropped down, for he didn't seat himself—and put his head in his hands. Sadie had Jack and Nellie in the kitchen and Ruth went to make certain she'd keep them there, then she hurried back to sit beside Mack. Again she found herself speechless, so she waited for him to speak to her.

  "I think a lot of Jonas, you know that, but I don't think I know him well. I don't think anybody knows him well—nobody but Audrey. She's the only person he ever let get close enough to know him." He broke off and looked at her. "I would be a lost man if I didn't have you, Ruthie, but I have a lot of people who would try to...I don't know what to call it...try to make me see I still had a reason to live, even if I wouldn't think so. Like we tried to help your pa, remember?"

  "I do remember, Mack. I also know he misses her every minute he's alive."

  Mack nodded. "But he let y'all help him, his children and his pa, and me and my ma and pa—he let us touch him and hold him—" Mack jumped to his feet. "Beau! He'll let Beau help him. He'll listen to Beau," he exclaimed, running for the telephone.

  Beau immediately agreed to come and arrived just after dawn on Sunday, having driven all night. He slept for several hours and awoke with a plan: He would go get Jonas and JJ and bring them back to North Carolina.

  "That's a fine idea, Beau," Mack enthused.

  "It is a terrible idea." Ruthie fumed, shocking both men.

  "Why?" they asked, almost in unison.

  "Because of Pa," Ruthie said, her tone of voice indicating that she shouldn't have had to make the point. "It would be too much for him."

  "It would be perfect for him," Beau said. "Exactly what he needs. And listen to me before you say anything, Ruthie. Yeah, I know Pa's slowin' down, but I also know he's been feelin' not so useful. When we first moved up the mountain, you know how I was. I needed Pa, no doubt about it. I was a sick man. I'm not sick now, and as much as I love that old man and his good company, I don't need him to take care of me. Now, if he could still farm that land, he'd be all right, but all he can do now is be the overseer, and you know how he'd rather do a thing than tell somebody else how to do it."

  Ruthie knew that was true, but what did Jonas and his son have to do with any of that, she demanded to know; how would their presence create a perfect situation for Pa instead of just more for him to worry about? "We try really hard, Beau, to see to it that he has nothing to worry about."

  "And he don't like it one bit," Beau said. "He knows you mean well, but he don't like it. Havin' Jonas and his boy there will give him somebody to take care of. He misses that. And you know how he loves children. Yours all just about all grown up—Miss Nell thinks she's the Queen of England—and Jonas's boy is what, five or six? Pa will love it."

  Ruthie struggled to curb her anger, and as she did, she was forced to acknowledge the truth of Beau's words, which meant acknowledging the fallacy of her own viewpoint. Forced to take an impartial view of Big Si Thatcher, what Beau said about him was the exact truth: The man did love children, and he was very good at taking care of people, no matter their age."

  "But will Jonas go?" Mack asked the relevant question, and both he and Beau looked to Ruth for the answer. Why did they think she'd know? She'd seen him once in twenty-three years. She thought about the boy she'd known all those years ago, and the man she'd seen and talked to just last year. Were the two people different, and who was she to judge?

  She looked at Beau. "I think that until Jonas got to know Mack these past couple of years, you and First Freeman were the only two people he had ever trusted and the only people whose opinion he respected. I still think that's true, and I think that even in his grief, if you showed up at his house—perhaps especially in his grief—he'd gladly let you spirit him off to the mountains of North Carolina." Still looking steadily at her big brother, Ruthie said, "Jonas thinks of us as his kin. He thinks of you as the big brother he never had."

  "He had a big brother, Ruthie, the one killed in the war."

  "But it was you who treated him the way he wanted a brother to treat him."

  ***

  – Carrie's Crossing –

  Jonas

  Ruby, Sam and Ernestine were standing at the kitchen door waiting for them early Monday morning when Mack and Beau arrived, in separate vehicles, at Jonas's house. As promised, they hadn't told him guests were expected. They also hadn't told JJ, so when the sleepy-looking, pajama-footed boy saw Mack, his face lit up, and he launched himself out of his chair at the kitchen table into Mack's arms, wrapping his pajamaed feet and legs around Mack's waist and his arms around Mack's neck.

  "Mr. Mack McGinnis!" he shouted before dissolving into tears. "My mama's dead and my grandpa killed her, and my papa is so sad."

  Mack held the little boy as tightly as the child held him, patting his back, rubbing his head, whispering soothingly in his ear. Beau, standing off to the side, explained to the three servants what his plan was. He knew that he could be placing them in a difficult if not dangerous situation. They knew it, too. All of them also knew that the danger, if it came, would not come from Jonas or from his sister. His in-laws, though, were another matter. Jonas had forbidden them from ever entering his home, but that had not prevented them from trying. They had a right, they said, to see their grandson. The only time Jonas roused himself was to refute them. Sam explained all of this to Beau, as well as why JJ said his grandpa had killed his mother.

  "If Jonas leaves here with me, some one of y'all is gon' have to stay here to make sure they don't get in this house," Beau said. "Either that or have his sister move in here if Jonas is trusting of her."

  Sam, Ruby and Ernestine communicated with their eyes, then Sam said as he was leaving them to go upstairs to fetch Jonas, "Maybe both things.
Maybe we stay and Miss Rachel and Mr. Cory come stay, too."

  In less time than any of them would have expected, Jonas was down the stairs and in the kitchen. He was unshaven, and he needed a haircut, and his clothes hung on him as if on a peg, but the clothes were clean and pressed, and he was clear-eyed. He stared at his guests, looking from one to the other of them.

  "It really is you, Beau. I thought Sam had made a mistake."

  "I'm so very sorry 'bout your wife, Jonas. Mack has told me what kind of woman she was, and it sounds like you were a very lucky man."

  "Luckier than I ever expected or deserved to be," Jonas said.

  "We didn't know what had happened—not me nor Mack nor Ruthie—not until Friday night when Sam and Ruby and Ernestine told us. They're real worried 'bout you, Jonas."

  Tears began to trickle down his face, and he nodded. He looked at the three of them and saw the concern—and the care—etched in their faces and cursed himself for a fool for not having seen it before. Then he looked at Mack, still holding his son, and the tears flowed. He sat down and buried his face in his hands.

  "Miss Ruby, Miss Ernestine," Beau said, seating himself at the table beside Jonas. "I'm right hungry, and I know Mack is, too, and I imagine my friend, Jonas, could do with a little something to eat. If it's not too much trouble—"

  The women sprang into action, grateful not only to have a mission, but to have someone to direct it. JJ still clung to Mack, who joined Jonas and Beau at the table. Beau gave Jonas the handkerchief from his pocket, gave him time to wipe his face and blow his nose, then told him what he had planned. "I'll drive you and the boy up there and bring you back when you're ready. Ruby, Sam and Ernestine said they'd stay here in the house while you're gone, look after things. Maybe your sister and her husband'll stay, too."

  Jonas nodded, then got up. "I'll go call Rachel and Cory, ask 'em to come." He left the room, and they heard him pick up the telephone in the hall. The five adults in the room exchanged looks of amazed disbelief. JJ must have sensed the exchange because he lifted his face from where it had been buried in Mack's neck and looked around the room.

  "Where's my papa?"

  "He's on the telephone calling your Aunt Rachel," Ernestine said, reaching for him. "You wanna let me put some clothes on you while Ruby finishes fixin' breakfast?"

  The child considered, looking from Beau to Mack, and into the eyes of the three people who'd been his safe harbor since the death of his mother. "Mr. Mack McGinnis, are you going to stay here and eat breakfast?"

  "Yes, Mr. JJ Thatcher, I am," Mack replied, releasing him to Ernestine. He first insisted on kissing Ruby and Sam before he left, and waved solemnly at the two guests as they left. Ruby wiped her face on her apron, and Sam cleared his throat several times.

  "I don't know how y'all handled this for three months," Mack said.

  "We don't, either," Sam said.

  "'Cept we didn't have no choice," Ruby said. "We couldn't leave that baby here all by hisself...well, not by hisself, but with Mr. Jonas like he was."

  "Y'all are good people," Beau said. "Real good people."

  Jonas returned then, pencil and paper in hand. "Beau, if it's all right, can I have your telephone number? I'm telling everybody that I'm going away for a while, to rest." He gave a sad smile. "Funny how everybody thinks that's a good idea and wished I'd had done it sooner." He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply; he was trying so hard not to cry again. "It's for the lawyer and the bank, to guarantee that Horace Edwards, if he gets wind that I'm gone, doesn't try any funny business."

  Beau gave him the number and Jonas left again, back to the telephone in the hallway, as Ruby placed cups, saucers, bowls of cream and sugar, and a fresh pot of coffee on the table. Mack and Beau were finishing their first cup when Jonas returned, and Ruby poured him a cup and refreshed the other two. She gave Beau and Mack a pointed look before turning back to the stove, a look they didn't understand until they watched Jonas staring at the table without seeing the steaming coffee before him.

  "How do you take your coffee, Jonas?" Mack asked. Jonas focused on the cup before him but seemed either not to have understood the question or not to know the answer. "Cream and sugar?" Mack asked.

  "Yes," Jonas said. "Yes. Cream and sugar but sweeter rather than lighter. Audrey used to say that: Lighter rather than sweeter for hers, sweeter rather than lighter for mine."

  "This is a beautiful house, Jonas," Beau said. "Mack had told me what a fine job your Audrey did designing it, but seeing it in person—it's really something."

  "Mack had as much to do with it as Audrey did," Jonas said. "That's the truth and you know it, Mack. She had some fine ideas, it's true, but so did you. It's when y'all put'em together that we got this house the way it is."

  "It's one of the finest in Carrie's Crossing," Mack said, "and I'll always be proud that I could have a hand in it."

  Ernestine and JJ returned then, the little boy fully dressed, his hair combed, eyes sparkling. "'Morning, Papa," he said shyly, standing beside his father's chair.

  Jonas scooped him up and hugged him tightly. "'Morning, my favorite JJ."

  The boy giggled. "I'm your only JJ."

  Jonas looked surprised. "Why, I do believe you're right about that." It clearly was a game they'd played often, father and son, though just as clearly, not for a while, and both savored the moment.

  Ruby put a plate of sausage, eggs and grits before each of the men at the table, and Ernestine took JJ and sat him on a pile of books in a chair and pushed it up to the table; Ruby placed a plate before him, too. They bowed their heads, Sam said grace, and Mack, Beau and JJ began to eat. Jonas stared at his plate as he had at his coffee, which he'd finally had several sips of.

  "You want some more butter in your grits, Jonas?" Beau asked. Jonas looked at the table, surprised to find the plate in front of him. He put a forkful of grits in his mouth but didn't chew for a few seconds. Then he did, swallowed, looked again at the plate. He forked up some eggs. Ruby put a bowl of biscuits on the table and everybody took one, including Jonas. "What kind of jelly you want on that biscuit, Jonas?" Beau said. "We got jelly, right, Miss Ruby?"

  "Yessir. We got every kinda jelly you can name. But Mr. Jonas, he likes apple butter 'stead of jelly."

  "Me, too," JJ yelled.

  "Me, too," Beau added, and, taking the jar of apple butter from Ruby, spread a generous amount on biscuits for everybody. "Is that enough apple butter, Jonas?"

  Jonas bit the biscuit, remembered to chew, then bit it again. Ruby's not-quite-so-whispered, "Thank you, Jesus!" was a sentiment shared by everybody in the room.

  Jonas's near catatonia returned after breakfast, however, and Mack had to help Ernestine and Ruby pack for him and JJ. Fortunately, no dress-up clothes would be required, and by the time the bags were packed, Rachel and Cory had arrived. Jonas initially seemed surprised to see them but eventually remembered why they were there. He didn't know when he'd return, he said, but thought in a couple of weeks. Rachel told him to take as long as he needed. She thanked Mack and Beau for their "friendship for my brother," kissed him and JJ, and walked with them to Beau's truck.

  Beau already had given Sam and Ruby his telephone number and he added Mack and Clara McGinniss's. "If there's a problem, don't call my sister; she's got enough on her mind." That upset all three of them, and they demanded to know what was troubling Miz McGinnis. "Three sons in the army," Beau said. Ernestine and Ruby gasped and grabbed their chests, and Sam muttered darkly under his breath, but Beau heard enough to grasp the intent of his words. He did not intend to wish blessings on the U.S. Army or the Nazis.

  Mack followed Beau's truck out of Carrie's Crossing to the junction of the road that led into Belle City and the one that skirted the city to the north and which would ultimately lead out of Georgia and into South Carolina. They honked their horns and waved to each other as they both headed for home.

  From the Diary of Jonas Farley Thatcher

  Summer 1944. This is t
he first time I have written in this book since Audrey left this earth and I would not be doing it if Beau Thatcher and Mack McGinnis had not come to my house just before Easter and got me and taken me up to North Carolina. I stayed a whole month. I don't recall much about the first week but I do know that I will forever be truly and deeply grateful for Beau and his Pa, for the two of them took care of me like I was the child, and they looked after JJ like he was their own. Big Silas Thatcher was so much like First Freeman I would sometimes forget that he wasn't, but the one thing he could help me with that no other man I knew could help me with was how to go on living. He didn't know that I had seen him get the news of Miss Nellie's death, and I didn't tell him. What he told me, though, when it was just the two of us talking—him talking and me listening—was what I imagine it would be like listening to God. So much kindness and goodness and wisdom, right alongside the all the pain and sadness that had never left him. One thing he told me that I'll never forget was to be grateful that I'd had Audrey in my life. Instead of being sad and mad, he said, be thankful that we'd had those few years together. Imagine your life without her at all. It was those words that helped me find the way to put my son back in my heart, and I'm glad I had Big Si to help me, and my little boy couldn't have done better than to have Beau, a man who didn't have any children of his own but who knew how a good Pa loved his children, do that same thing for my little boy. I'll also never forget how Mack McGinnis was holding him that morning they came to my house—holding him like a man would hold his own son, like I used to hold mine before I lost his Mama—like I do hold him right now, today. They can say what they want, think what they want, but those people are my kin, my family and there's nothing I wouldn't do for any of them. We're going back up to N.C. next week to spend Labor Day and this time, Ruthie and Mack and their children and Mack's ma and pa will be there. JJ is so happy. He wants to live there.