Child of the Mountains

by Marilyn Sue Shank

  He nodded. “I thought about getting my GED and going to college on the GI Bill—maybe be a chemist. They’s good jobs for chemists in Charleston. But I took a job in the coal mine so I could be close to Mom after Dad died, in case she needed me. I sent her part of my check each month. And then Sarah and John moved in with her.”

  “I loved being with Mama, but Daddy was real scary sometimes,” I said. I looked out the car window, but I didn’t see nothing but my thoughts.

  “What?” I could feel Uncle William stare at me hard.

  I looked at him, surprised. “You know. When he got liquored up.”

  His hands was on the steering wheel. He balled them into fists. “Did he ever hit you, Lydia?”

  “No, I hid when he got like that. But he hit Mama and Gran sometimes.”

  Uncle William stared out the windshield like he was a-trying his best to see Daddy. His hands tightened up until they looked like rocks. “Iffen I had knowed that, I would of killed that son of a …” He looked at me. “I would of put a stop to it. He died in that accident about a year after I got out of the service. It would have been sooner iffen I had knowed.”

  I figured out then why Mama and Gran didn’t tell him about Daddy. Uncle William would have killed him and ended up in jail or maybe even worse. I wondered again about the plan they had to get away from Daddy. I figured I best change the subject.

  “I recollect when you and Aunt Ethel Mae got married,” I said. “I was your flower girl.”

  His hands opened up again. “Yeah. You done real good tossing them rose petals up the church aisle. Everbody thought you was real cute.”

  I smiled, but just a little. “Do you love Aunt Ethel Mae as much as you loved Helen?”

  He frowned and gived it some thought. “You can love people for different things and in different ways, Lydia. Ethel Mae was a lot of fun when I met her, and I sure did need some fun in my life. I could talk to Helen. But when I met Ethel Mae, I didn’t want to do much talking. I knowed Ethel Mae would do all the talking that needed to be done.”

  I had a hard time picturing Aunt Ethel Mae being much fun. But then I thought about the night we had ice cream when it was cold outside. I sure don’t think that was Uncle William’s idea. “Does Aunt Ethel Mae know about Helen?”

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t know about you being Helen’s daughter. I thought a lot about this. Iffen Sarah comes home, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you belong with her.” He looked at me like he was trying to see inside my head. “I will always be there for you, any way I can, Lydia. Iffen your mama don’t come home, you will always have a home with me. Do you understand what I’m a-telling you?”

  I nodded. I was still all confused with everthing, but I understood them words he said.

  Some of the wrinkles eased out of his face. “I hate to put this on you, Lydia, but you must keep this a secret from your aunt Ethel Mae. Will you promise not to tell her or anyone else?”

  I felt queasy thinking about having to keep all this bottled up inside. “I promise,” I said. I was glad Ears wasn’t a person. At least I could confide to him.

  “Good. I put the birth certificate and picture of Helen in a safe deposit box at the bank afore picking you up. That’s what I should ought of done in the first place.”

  “Why did Gran and Mama lie to me?” I asked. “I remember Gran telling me that she tickled Mama’s nose with a feather and I whizzed out of her like a pellet from a shotgun. Mama said I was her only shining star in a dark, dark sky when I comed to be.”

  He thought for a minute. Then he pushed some more words out, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes. “From what you told me about John, Sarah told you the truth. You probably asked Gran about being borned when BJ comed and Sarah was in the hospital. Your gran tried to spare you from something you was too little to understand. Most of the births she midwifed probably was that easy. Life ain’t simple, Lydia. Most people want to do what’s best for the people they care about. Sometimes it’s just real hard to figure out what that be.”

  I nodded. It was still real hard to think of Gran lying to me. She was a good Christian lady. I figured I was going to have to think about this for a spell to sort it all out. I had me two more questions for Uncle William. “Am I like Helen?” I asked him.

  Uncle William looked at my face and smiled at me for the first time I could recollect. “You are ever bit as pretty and kind as she was. I see her ever time I look at you. Mr. Hinkle tells me you like to write and you’re real good at it. Helen dreamed of being a writer. She used to write poems and stories. I always thought someday I would see a book of hers at the big library in Charleston. Maybe I’ll see yours instead.”

  I smiled, too. “Where is she buried, Uncle William?”

  He looked out the windshield again. “I knowed I would leave Kanawha County and move back to Putnam County after the war. Helen didn’t have no brothers and sisters, and her parents died in a car wreck a few years afore we got married. So I buried her on Paradise Hill at the little cemetery on Bowles Ridge Road. I thought she would like it there. Some of the other Garton family is there, and I didn’t have no ties with the church cemetery where your grandparents and BJ be buried. I didn’t go to no church until Ethel Mae commenced to dragging me on Sunday mornings.”

  I nodded. Iffen Aunt Ethel Mae wants something, it’s a lot easier to do it than listen to her fuss. I knowed where that road to the cemetery is. It ain’t too far from my school.

  “We best get them errands done,” Uncle William said. “Your aunt’s going to be fit to be tied by the time we get home.”

  We stopped at Sears and Roebuck first. I hurried to pick out a new scarf for Aunt Ethel Mae while Uncle William got his hunting supplies. We shopped together for the groceries at Evans, and then we went to Jack’s Place on West Washington Street to get some hot dogs and French fries to take home for supper. We didn’t talk no more about the birth certificate. Each time we got in the car to drive to the next place, Uncle William turned on the radio. My thoughts was a lot louder than the music.

  It was about seven-thirty when we got home. Uncle William was right. Aunt Ethel Mae was fit to be tied.

  26

  It’s about saying hello and good-bye.

  THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1954

  When you lose yourself, living ain’t much more than doing the same things over and over. Get up in the morning. Go to school. Do the chores. Shove down some food. Do homework. Go to bed. Try to sleep. Then get up the next day and do it all again. Today I figured I had to do something different.

  It’s been a week since I found that birth certificate. Me and Uncle William ain’t hardly looked at each other. We sure ain’t mentioned the birth certificate no more. We both been acting like it don’t exist.

  Mr. Hinkle asked me again yesterday iffen I wanted to talk about the trial. He said he’s worried about me on account that I’ve been so quiet and my grades has dropped.

  On Monday, when Maggie sat down to eat lunch with me, I told her my stomach hurt. “Did Aunt Flo from Red River come to visit?” she asked. “Did she bring Gramps?” Maggie giggled. “Aunt Flo ain’t visited me yet at all. I wish she would hurry up. I ain’t even got titties yet. I been stuffing the brassiere my sister outgrowed with toilet paper. But don’t you go telling no one that. Mom sleeps late, so she don’t see me in the morning. She works at the beauty shop all day, so I take it off afore she gets home. I can’t wait till I fill it out for real and them boys start to pay me some notice.”

  I thought her bosoms looked lopsided sometimes. Now I knowed why. I told her no, I ain’t going to tell no one, and yes, Aunt Flo paid me a visit. I couldn’t tell her the real reason why my stomach was all cramped up. Uncle William said I couldn’t tell anyone about that birth certificate. It pained me to lie to Maggie.

  Yesterday, Maggie said I ain’t no fun no more. She ate lunch with them other girls instead of me. It didn’t make me no never mind. I read one of my books from the library about Anne of Gre
en Gables and tried to gag down a few bites of my sandwich.

  Anne of Green Gables got herself adopted. But she knowed her parents died. And she knowed she wanted Marilla and Matthew to adopt her. She begged them to adopt her. I didn’t know nothing about what happened to me. I didn’t have no choice.

  I kept on thinking how hard I been working to get Mama out of jail. But she never told me she didn’t birth me. She let me think I was as much hers as BJ. Did she keep me to help take care of the kids she would have someday? Like Anne took care of other people’s kids? Maybe she didn’t really even love me. She just felt like she had to take care of me on account of Uncle William being her brother.

  All I wanted since BJ died was to have Mama back with me. But after finding that birth certificate, I didn’t know iffen I ever wanted to see her again. I wished I could just go off someplace and live on my own. But I would have to make money, and I knowed no one would hire a girl my age.

  The Bible says the truth shall set you free. But the truth made me feel trapped—so trapped that my breath squeezed tight in my chest.

  Today afore lunch, I told Mr. Hinkle that I must of caught a stomach bug. I asked to go on home. “Are you sure you are all right to walk home, Lydia?” he asked. “I could drive you if you could wait a half hour for our lunch break.”

  “No, I ain’t that bad sick,” I told him. “It ain’t that far to walk.”

  He didn’t even pull on his ear to remind me to use Standard English. He just wrinkled up his face like he was worried, nodded, and told me I could go iffen I was sure I could make it. So I walked out of school and toward Uncle William’s house. But I didn’t go there. I went to find Ears.

  Ears jumped and ran in circles when he saw me. I think he was right surprised to see me that early. I slapped my leg to tell him to follow me. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth, and he doggy-grinned when he runned toward me. I ain’t never let him follow me afore. I didn’t care what them people that owned Ears thought. I needed my kindred spirit to go with me. They didn’t seem to pay him much mind anyways.

  It was sunny and not too cold. The snow we had a few days ago was melted. I felt real thankful for such a pretty day in the middle of winter. Me and Ears walked away from my uncle’s house to Paradise. We had to walk past the school again. That meant we had to hike through the woods across the street.

  When I didn’t worry no more about them teachers and kids seeing us, I sat down on a dry rock in the sun to share my lunch with Ears. I ate a few bites of my baloney sandwich and gived Ears most of it. He gobbled down the extra sandwich I packed for him, too. He licked my hand when he was done to show me he was real grateful.

  I knowed when I left for school this morning that I wouldn’t get milk for lunch today, so I packed a jar of grape Kool-Aid in my lunch poke. I drunk that while Ears got hisself a drink out of a nearby puddle that wasn’t froze over. I don’t know how dogs can drink muddy water, but he drunk like it was chocolate milk, slopping it all over his face. Then he trotted to a nearby bush and raised his leg to leave his mark. He lifted his leg so high I thought he might topple over. He wanted to make sure his mark was higher than all them other dogs’ marks. He’s all boy, I thought, and couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  When he finished his business, Ears walked over and sat next to me. I had packed a extra hankie in my poke for a napkin, and I used it to wipe offen his slobbery doggy face. He didn’t pull away, but he squirmed a bit like he couldn’t figure out why I wanted to do that to him. When I finished, Ears plopped his big old head in my lap and looked up at me as if to say, “What’s going on, Lydia?”

  But I didn’t bring him with me to talk to him. I needed to talk to somebody else. I just wanted Ears close to me. I patted his head for a bit and then leaned over and placed my head on top of his. I stroked his back. He sighed and leaned his body as close to mine as he could. I knowed I would probably have to use a whole roll of tape to get the dog hairs offen my new coat, but I didn’t care one little bit.

  We sat that way for a little while, Ears and me. Then I got up and headed for Bowles Ridge Road. Ears runned ahead and sniffed for interesting smells, bounding back to me from time to time for a quick pat on the head.

  When I comed to the fence gate, I stopped to look at the little cemetery. Trees surrounded the back of the little hill. I imagine how pretty and peaceful the cemetery must be in the other seasons. In spring the blooming trees match the colors of the fresh flowers folks place on the graves. In summer, the heavy green leaves shelter them that rest in the ground. In the fall, the red, gold, and orange leaves provide a blanket for the graves. But today, in winter, the empty branches of the trees reached up to the blue sky like little children asking for God to pick them up in His arms.

  I told Ears to stay and wait for me. I was afeared he might decide to mark a headstone afore I could stop him. That didn’t seem very respectful of them that had passed on. Ears whimpered a little and looked up at me with sad brown eyes, but he stretched out on the ground with his head on his front paws and waited.

  When I got inside, I laid my lunch poke down near the gate. I didn’t have no idea where Helen’s grave might be. I commenced to looking at the right side and moved toward the back, reading each headstone. Lots of Casto, Craigo, and Parker headstones dotted the hill. I finally found the Garton headstones near the front on the left side. Then I found the headstone I was a-looking for.

  HELEN JANE GARTON

  MAY 26, 1922–MARCH 15, 1942

  MY SPIRIT FREES, AND I AM ONE WITH GOD.

  The cemetery had some headstones for babies that died on the same day they was borned. A few had little lambs resting on top of the headstones. One had a toy wagon chiseled in the stone. Two of the babies died the same year Helen died. I could of died on my birth date, too. I could of had a little grave beside Helen’s.

  I shivered to think about it. Instead of being on Earth, I could be in Heaven now with BJ and Gran and Daddy. And with Helen. I wondered iffen I would have been forever a baby in Heaven. Would I have growed up like I be on Earth? Is BJ forever a boy in Heaven? Helen’s headstone says her spirit freed. I wondered iffen her spirit has freckles.

  I touched the words on Helen’s headstone and traced the letters with my fingers. My birth mother. This lady that I only seen in a picture. The body that she once owned laid here. Her spirit. Who she was inside. Who she still is with God. That’s who I needed to speak to. The Bible says we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. I hoped her spirit floated above me in that cloud and that she could hear me.

  “I can’t call you Mother, even though you birthed me,” I whispered to her. “Even though you gived your life so that I could be. I can only call you Helen. I hope you understand. I only know one mama.”

  And then the tears clouded my eyes. I recollected all the good times I had when Mama and me sat on the porch and talked, and when Gran and me took our walks in the woods. “I only know one mama, and I love her,” I said again to Helen. “Mama and Gran was always there for me. They didn’t tell me the truth, but they done the best they could by me. They loved me with everthing they had inside them. Even Uncle William tries his best to make sure I have a good life.”

  I begun to sob out all the anger that had built up in me. When the sobbing finished, I felt clean inside. And I knowed that feeling was forgiveness. A soft voice spoke deep inside me: “Lydia, things are as they are meant to be.” Was that Helen’s voice? Or God’s? Or was I telling myself them words? I didn’t know for sure. But I felt safe and loved like I was nestled in a bird’s wings.

  I wiped my face with the hankie I kept in my coat pocket and looked up at the sky. “Thank you for my life, Helen,” I said, and blowed a kiss toward Heaven.

  Then I walked to the cemetery gate and didn’t look back. Ears jumped up on the fence when he seen me coming. I glanced at the sun and knowed we would have to hurry to get back afore school let out. I took off at a run, and Ears barked and danced around me, glad for a race. When
we comed to his house, I hugged him and thanked him for going with me today. He wagged his tail and licked my hand. Then I had to tell him to go on home. His eyes drooped low and his tail fell between his legs, but he went on home.

  I runned the rest of the way to Uncle William’s house and stopped to catch my breath afore walking through the front door. Aunt Ethel Mae had country music blaring from the radio and sung while she fixed supper. I said a prayer of thanks in my heart that she was in a good mood.

  “I’m home,” I said.

  “How was school?” she asked.

  “Fine.” I hurried into my bedroom afore she had a chance to talk to me about anything else.

  I heard a car pull up in front of the house almost as soon as I got to the bedroom. I looked out my window and saw Mr. Hinkle parking his car. My heart jumped up in my throat. I was sure glad that music was loud. I figured Aunt Ethel Mae couldn’t hear the car from the kitchen. I slipped out the front door and met Mr. Hinkle as he got out of his car.

  “Lydia,” he said, “I wanted to make sure you arrived home safely. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, much better,” I said. That part was true.

  “Maybe I could talk to your aunt while I’m here.”

  “She has one of her headaches, and she’s taking a nap.” That part was a lie. I wondered iffen he could hear the radio blaring and Aunt Ethel Mae belting out the tune. I hoped his hearing weren’t as good as mine.

  His eyebrows shot up, and he looked me in the eyes. “Well,” he said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Do you think you’ll be able to come to school tomorrow?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. I brought your homework.” He took my books from his car and handed them to me. “I wrote the assignments on a piece of paper in your math book.” He smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. “Tell your aunt I hope she feels better soon.” He climbed into his car and drove away.

  When I slipped through the front door, Aunt Ethel Mae was dancing as well as singing while she banged pans around on the stove. I rolled my eyes and went to my bedroom.