Appalachian Daughter

by Mary Salyers

  APPALACHIAN

  DAUGHTER

  MARY JANE SALYERS

  Copyright © 2014 Mary Jane Salyers

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1500681951

  ISBN-13: 978-1500681951

  DEDICATION

  To all the daughters,

  who like me,

  grew up in Appalachia.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to the writers group who met at my house and were my first readers, especially Nancy Flinchbaugh, whose encouragement helped keep me going. I am indebted to the teachers and participants at the Green Lake Writers Conference, the Appalachian Writers Workshop, and the Antioch Writers’ Workshop for their instruction, advice, and critiques–especially Barbara Smith, who copy edited an early version of the manuscript. Dozens of family and friends read the manuscript at various stages and gave me helpful feedback. I have neither space nor memory to name all of you–but your interest and suggestions were invaluable. I’ll mention two: Fran Randall, whose enthusiasm gave me the impetus to begin the publishing process; and Marjorie Dolbeer, who proofread the final copy. Special thanks to my husband, Bill Salyers. I couldn’t have done it without his help, advice, and encouragement, not to mention his computer skills. Finally, I must thank my Tennessee family and neighbors whose lives and experiences were the inspiration for Maggie’s story.

  The characters, places, and events portrayed in this work of fiction are products of the author’s imagination. The story is set in East Tennessee during the late 1940s and early 1950s which have shaped the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Campbell Holler–October 7, 1895 Harvey has tore my heart out. Johnny and Jimmy are gone. May never see them again. Will his rage never end?

  (Diary of Mary Louise Campbell)

  CHAPTER 1

  Harlan, Ky–May 20, 1875 Wedding day. Harvey arrived yesterday. Has wagon and team to haul our goods. Says cabin and barn built. Leave tomorrow for the property in Tenn. So proud to be his wife.

  (Diary of Mary Louise Campbell)

  May 1949

  Kneeling beside her locker in the elementary wing of the school building, Maggie Martin listened with a sinking heart as her eighth grade classmates discussed their summer plans. Visualizing her own summer as three months of drudgery and tedium cooped up in Campbell Holler like a caged bird, she shook her head as if she could throw off the dread of isolation and loneliness.

  Maggie and her best friend, Mary Ann Collins, had emptied their locker, stacking their books on the floor and sorting the various odds and ends they had accumulated. Maggie shot the last piece of scrap into a trash can like a basketball through the hoop. “We better hurry. Time for the last bell, and everyone else has gone back to the classroom.”

  As Maggie bent to lift the stack of books, someone slammed into her knocking her down, scattering her books in all directions. Lying on the floor, arms and legs flailing wildly, she focused on the face above hers–Walter Spinks, a senior. “Hey, you big ox, get off me!”

  “Sorry, Maggie, I tripped.” Walter’s big ears and wide grin reminded her of a monkey–a monkey who made no attempt to get up, but purposely ran his hand under her blouse.

  Maggie shoved at him and screamed, “Get your hands off me, you big ape!” Struggling frantically and kicking the trash can over, scattering papers over the hallway, she grabbed a book and swung as hard as she could from her awkward position, catching his temple with a satisfying thwack.

  “Why, you little bitch!” Walter rolled over and sat up holding his head with both hands.

  Maggie leaped up, raised the book high, and whammed it down hard on the top of his head. “Don’t you ever touch me again or I’ll kill you!”

  Mary Ann, almost to the classroom door, turned as soon as she heard the commotion and hurried to Maggie. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m not hurt! But I’m mad as a riled up hornet!” She shook her history book menacingly at Walter. “Get up, you big lunkhead, and get out of here, or I’ll hit you again!”

  Groaning and holding his head, Walter got slowly to his feet just as Mrs. Weldon, the eighth grade teacher, stepped into the hallway. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, twisting her head on her long skinny neck like a suspicious vulture.

  “I accidently tripped and bumped Maggie,” Walter, still holding his head, said innocently while backing toward the door to the parking lot. “I apologized, but she hit me with her book.” He pushed the door open and rushed out a second before the bell.

  “Maggie, that temper of yours will get you into a peck of trouble if you’re not careful. Now get this mess cleaned up.” Mrs. Weldon pointed to the trash scattered over the hallway then turned back to the classroom.

  Maggie glared daggers at Mrs. Weldon’s back. I hate you, you old hag! Gathering her books, she joined her classmates exiting the building, leaving the trash on the floor. Fighting tears, she walked toward her bus hardly responding to her friends. “Bye Maggie.” “Have a good summer.” “See you in ninth grade.” She slammed her books onto her favorite seat in the back of the school bus, and opened the window, her face flushed and contorted. When did it get so hot? Not at all like May weather. Sweat ran into her eyes. After wiping at the sweat with the back of her hand, she straightened her clothes, tucking her blouse into her skirt, and flopped onto the seat.

  She held her honey-brown braids on top of her head while she fanned the back of her neck with her report card. She crossed her legs and jiggled her foot, restless as a mother hen sighting a circling hawk. She brushed her disheveled hair away from her face. I hate Walter Spinks. I wish he was dead! She took a deep breath, but the air felt heavy in her lungs like breathing mist. Her side hurt where Walter had crashed into her, and she felt bedraggled like her grandmother’s old red hen after a raccoon tried to carry her away.

  She smoothed the skirt her mother had made from feed sacks over her knees. Her mother had complained this morning when Maggie had worn it, saying she should save it for her Sunday best. Seems like Mama and me is always having our differences these days. We didn’t used to have so many disagreements, but here lately, she finds fault with everything I do. She probably won’t even look at my report card–much less notice I made all A’s. She thinks I should forget school.

  Maggie knew her mother agreed with most of their mountain neighbors who said too much education corrupted the young. Maggie’s mother, Corie Mae, quit school before she was as old as Maggie. She would like Maggie to stay home and help with the difficult work required to provide for the large family. Thankful her father wanted her to go on to high school and took pride in the good grades she made, she sighed and closed her burning eyes. Now thinking of the long summer ahead of her, she already felt lonesome for her friends. I feel like the little lost sheep in the Bible.

  “Move your books Maggie Martin.”

  Snapping out of her reverie, she lifted the books onto her lap to make room for her cousin, JD Campbell, who slouched into the seat, a big grin on his face, his dark, curly hair falling over his forehead. “Wake me when we get to the holler,” he murmured, folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. She looked at JD’s long, dark eyelashes curled up from his closed eyelids. I see why all the girls go crazy about him. Although nearer in age to JD’s younger brother Kenny, she felt closer to JD, who seemed more like an older brother than a cousin. Having grown up together in Campbell Hollow in houses only one hundred yards apart, they had spent countless hours playing and working side by side since their toddler days.

  With disheartened spirit, Maggie stared out the window at the students scurrying for their busses. When the bus driver started the motor, Maggie sho
ok JD’s arm. “Quick, JD, check if all the kids got on. Mama’ll kill me if one of them misses the bus!”

  Slowly getting to his feet, JD counted them off. “One, two three, four, five–yep, everybody’s here.” He slid down, resting his head against the back of the seat, and closed his big brown eyes again. He had rolled the sleeves of his plaid shirt almost to his shoulders, exposing his bulging biceps. She noticed the lump in the pocket made by a pack of cigarettes. His jeans, though faded, held a sharp crease.

  Suddenly Maggie slumped down and hid her face behind a book. “Please don’t let Walter Spinks see me.”

  JD opened his eyes and sat up. “What’s he done now?”

  “Right before the last bell, while I stooped down cleaning out my locker, he pretended to trip and fell down on top of me. My books went flying like an explosion. Then he put his hand under my blouse. I had to hit him with my history book to get him off. And then old witch Weldon yelled at me for hitting him.”

  JD stood, slapped his fist into his open palm, and stepped into the aisle. “That no count dog! I’m going to give him what he’s got coming.”

  Maggie jumped up, spilling her books onto the floor, and pulled him back into his seat. “No, JD. Don’t do it. Please. He’s bigger than you. He’ll kill you.” Maggie held tightly to his arm. “Besides, I fight my own battles. I hit him so hard he’s going to see stars for a week. Please, stay out of this.”

  JD jerked his arm loose and stood up again glaring at Walter, who had taken a seat behind Johnny Ray, Maggie’s little brother. “I don’t care. It’s time somebody taught him a lesson.”

  “Please, JD,” Maggie begged, dragging him back to his seat again. “Here, help me pick up my books. Mama has a fit if our books get so banged up she can’t sell them for the best price. You don’t want her taking a switch to me, do you?”

  JD sighed and reluctantly stooped to pick up the books, placing them back in Maggie’s lap. He slumped into the seat once more. “I’ll get him yet, just wait and see.”

  Maggie punched his arm with her elbow. “Forget about Walter. I don’t think he’ll have nerve enough to look at me after this, much less touch me. I hope I gave him a concussion that lasts for a week.”

  “At least you won’t have to worry about him after today. I heard he’s joining the Marines.” JD rubbed his hands together. “Just think. We’ve got three whole months with no school. I’m going to have one great summer.”

  “I hate summers. So much work. We plow, we plant, we hoe, we pick, we can, we wash, we iron every day from sunup to dark. I never get to go anywhere or see my friends. I’d rather go to school any day.” Maggie slumped under the weight of the dreary prospects for her summer. She understood the necessity of the hard work, and she willingly did her part with a competence beyond her fourteen years. But she chaffed under the isolation and loneliness. A blanket of sadness settled over her, and she took deep breaths to keep from suffocating.

  JD sat up a little straighter. “I’m aiming to get me a job and buy a car. Then I won’t be stuck in that holler working my tail off.”

  “Where can you get a job at?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. I’m sick of Mama treating me like a six-year-old. Getting out the first chance I get.” He closed his eyes again.

  She sighed. Without JD she looked forward to a totally intolerable summer–like losing an arm or a leg. She wished she could get a job. Then she could buy clothes for high school next year. I hate wearing feed sack dresses. But Mama’d never let me go to work even if I could get a job. She swallowed, trying to hold back tears that stung her eyelids.

  JD opened one eye and looked sideways at Maggie. “What’s the matter, Cuz? You look about as happy as a hound dog with the mange.”

  Maggie turned toward him. “On top of being attacked by that big ape, I found out today we have to buy uniforms for gym next year. Mama’ll never agree for me to wear shorts. She won’t even let me wear jeans or pants unless I’m picking berries. She says it’s a sin for a woman to dress like a man. But ever’body’ll make fun of me if I have to take gym in a dress!” Maggie looked out the window so JD wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

  JD grinned. “Easy. You don’t tell her. I do all kinds of stuff Mama would beat me black and blue if she knew. I just don’t tell her.”

  “I can’t keep her from knowing. I’ll have to buy the gym suit somehow, and I’ll have to take it home to wash.”

  “Maggie, Aunt Corie Mae’s too hard on you. She has tied you to her apron strings so tight you’ll never get away unless you put your foot down and tell her what you aim to do.”

  “But you know what a bad temper Mama’s got. She don’t tolerate backtalk. She’d thrash me like whipping a copperhead if I did that.”

  JD shook his head and closed his eyes again. The bus had three more stops before reaching the stop for Campbell Holler. Maggie settled back in her seat. If this is the way the summer will go, I’ll never live through it. She had barely shut her eyes, when Johnny Ray screamed. Both Maggie and JD leaped up, and Maggie’s books slid onto the floor.

  When they saw Johnny Ray holding his head and crying, they knew immediately what had happened. Walter Spinks liked to turn his class ring upside down and whack people on their heads as he went down the aisle to get off the bus.

  “That does it! Going to get that sucker.” JD rushed down the aisle after Walter, who had exited the bus.

  “You’ll get in trouble,” Maggie yelled, but JD leaped out the door. The driver, ignoring the ruckus, closed the door and continued down the road. Maggie watched out the back window as JD and Walter slugged each other like mad drunks on a Saturday night.

  “Hit him, JD! Beat the stuffing out of him.” One of JD’s classmates stood beside Maggie in the aisle looking out the rear window until the bus went around a curve.

  That’s really my fight. I should have got off with JD. But as the oldest, Maggie had the responsibility of seeing all the children home safely. “I hope he beats that bully to a pulp,” she said under her breath, as she crawled around on the floor trying to retrieve her books. More likely Walter, a much larger boy, will whip JD, and then Aunt Opal will give him a worse thrashing.

  Seated once more, sweat trickled down her back, and her blouse stuck to the back of the seat. The oppressive heat of the unseasonably warm weather added to Maggie’s depression. She put her face closer to the open window to get some cooler air and stretched out her long legs. She noticed dark clouds in the west. Maybe it will rain and cool things off.

  Maggie and Kenny made sure all the children crossed the highway safely after the bus dropped them at the road going up Campbell Hollow. Usually Johnny Ray complained constantly and wanted to stop in the shade, but today he skipped along with the neighbor children, kicking rocks in the dirt road and chanting, “School’s out! School’s out!”

  The six families who lived in the hollow had a total of twelve school-age children. For the Martin and Campbell children, it meant a one-mile walk from the bus stop to their homes at the head of the holler. As they passed the unpainted houses of the neighbors, Maggie marveled at the contrast between those who worked hard to survive on a few hilly acres and those who lazed in careless squalor.

  After a quarter mile, the road rose to the top of a hill where a large beech tree made a canopy creating a cool resting spot. They stood in the shade and waited for Johnny Ray, who lagged behind. “Johnny Ray, you better hurry and catch up,” Maggie called. “Audie Lee Johnson’s house is just ahead.” Actually, the Johnsons’ house was back a long lane hidden by a grove of pines, so that it was not visible from the road..

  “I ain’t afraid of Audie Lee Johnson,” Johnny Ray called, but he hurried to catch up.

  “Is Audie Lee deaf?” Jeannie, the youngest of the three Martin daughters, asked.

  “I think he can hear okay, he just can’t talk.” Kenny kicked a rock from the roadway into the small stream that ran nearby.

  “I think he’s sc
ary looking. I wouldn’t want to meet up with him by myself.” Jeannie hugged her stack of books tighter to her chest. “He staggers around like a drunk and always has that tow sack slung over his shoulder. I’d be scared to know what’s in it.” Jeannie moved to the other side of the road.

  “He won’t hurt you,” Kenny said. “Mama says he’s tetched in the head, but he don’t hurt nobody.”

  Johnny Ray, out of breath from hurrying to catch up, argued , “That’s not what Charlie Haskins told me. His mother told him if Audie Lee caught him after dark, he’d throw that sack over him and carry him away.”

  Kenny laughed, “Naw, that ain’t so. His mother’s just scaring him to make him come inside after dark. In all the years the Johnsons have lived in this holler, I ain’t never heard tell of Audie Lee hurting a thing.”

  In newly planted fields, tiny corn plants made neat green rows stretching away from the road. The ridges forming the holler reached out like two arms hugging the valley between them. By the time they reached land belonging to the Campbells and Martins, the holler had narrowed considerably and the fields rose more steeply toward the sides of the ridges.

  As they came over a small rise in the road, Maggie saw the roof of her house. The Martins lived in the old house her great-grandfather Campbell had built when he bought fifty acres at the head of the holler a few years after the Civil War. He originally built a two-room log cabin, but during the years he had added a second story, a lean-to kitchen, and front and back porches. Now the Martins filled it to overflowing with the family of seven children.

  Maggie huddled the kids in the middle of the narrow, dirt road. “Don’t none of you say a word about JD getting off the bus. Don’t want him getting in trouble.”

  Kenny lifted Johnny Ray’s chin, looking directly into his eyes. “That means you, Tattle Tale!” Then he turned toward his own home farther up the hollow.