by Mary Salyers
Maggie used the sharp, pointed end of the stick to work the object loose. She jumped back down to the bottom of the ditch beside the road and reached for Johnny Ray’s hand to pull her back up to the roadway. She held out her hand so Johnny Ray could see the flat, heart-shaped object somewhat smaller than her palm. It seemed to be some sort of jewelry. A short piece of a chain was still attached. On one side red, white, and crystal stones circled a center of gold colored filigree. Maggie rubbed it with her fingers to get the clay mud off.
“What is it?” Johnny Ray asked.
“Reckon it’s a necklace of some kind. Must be real gold cause it shines here where I rubbed it.”
“Can I have it?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask Daddy if he knows what it is.” She stuck it in her pocket “We need to get on down the road, or we’ll never get these berries picked.”
They soon reached the fence marking the beginning of the Johnsons’ farm. Maggie climbed through the strands of barbed wire and held the wires up so Johnny Ray could crawl through. “Come on, Sadie,” Maggie called to the beagle, who had trotted on down the road ahead of them. “We’ll have to keep an eye on Sadie, or she’ll be off chasing a rabbit stead of sniffing out the snakes.”
“But if it’s a blue racer, it might chase us!”
“Snakes don’t chase people, silly.”
“Yes, they do. JD told me a blue racer chased him from Grandpa’s barn all the way home.”
“Johnny Ray, how many times do I have to tell you that JD’s making all that stuff up? Snakes don’t chase people.”
“Bet you five dollars.”
“When are you going to have five dollars? Want to bet your dime?”
“No.”
By now they had walked about two hundred yards from the road along the edge of the cornfield that sloped uphill. Just above the field a raised place marked the site of the first house built in the hollow. Only a pile of rocks that had once formed the chimney remained.
“Is that where we’re going?” Johnny Ray pointed.
“No, that pile of rocks makes a perfect place for a nest of rattlesnakes. We’ll go around those trees and up through the pasture towards the woods.” She pointed to the right a few hundred feet farther up the hillside where the cleared ground ended and the woods began.
“Does Mr. Johnson own all this land?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought he worked at the prison. How can he do that and all this farming, too?
“He is a prison guard, but he does his farm work evenings and weekends.”
“Does Audie Lee help him?”
“I doubt if Audie Lee does much farm work, but Mama says he helps cook and clean house.”
“Is Mr. Johnson his daddy?”
“No, he’s an older brother. Their parents are dead, so Mr. Johnson takes care of Audie Lee.”
“How old is Audie Lee, anyway?”
Maggie tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Mama says he’s probably in his late twenties.”
From the hillside above the barn they could easily see the backyard and the back of the Johnson house. “Why, it’s painted white!” Johnny Ray seemed surprised. “I wish our house was white instead of that old ugly gray.” Except for June Wilson’s house on the highway and the Johnsons’ house, none of the houses in the holler had ever been painted.
“Someday I’ll get a job and make a lot of money. I’ll buy the paint and you can paint our house,” Maggie suggested.
“I wonder why they have clothes on the line. Mama didn’t do no wash for them today.”
“Sometimes Mr. Johnson washes some clothes on the week that Mama don’t do it. I guess he must have done some before he left for work this morning.”
They had reached the briars that had grown into large clumps of canes hanging full of dark, ripe fruit. “Okay, little brother, look at all these berries. Here, Sadie, check out these bushes and make sure there’s no snakes.” When it seemed safe, Maggie pointed out several long briars loaded with berries at the edge of the woods. “Now, you pick here. Just pick the black ones. The red ones are sour. I’ll go over there to that bunch of briars. Remember,” she reminded him, “have to get half a bucket full to get a dime.”
Soon she had the bottom of her bucket covered. She whistled when she noticed Sadie was out of sight, and shortly the dog came trotting out of the woods. “Here girl, you stay with us. We didn’t bring you to hunt rabbits. You’re supposed to hunt snakes.” After a few minutes, Maggie walked over to check on Johnny Ray. He had about a cup of berries in his bucket. “Hey, little man, you’re doing real good. You’re going to get that dime, all right.”
Johnny Ray smiled at her praise, revealing a purple mouth. He rubbed his sleeve over his forehead. “I’m so hot.”
“Well, hurry and get your berries picked so we can go home and eat dinner.” Maggie began to walk back to her spot. Suddenly a blood curdling scream made her heart stand still. Maggie raced to Johnny Ray’s side and knelt beside him. “What happened?” Johnny Ray, standing several steps back from the briars with his hands over his face, had dropped his bucket, spilling his berries. “What’s the matter?” Maggie pulled his hands away and saw his eyes full of tears.
“A big bee! Hit me right on the head.”
“Did it sting you?”
“No,” he reluctantly admitted.
She put the bucket back in his hand and began to pick more berries to cover the bottom of his bucket again. “You know how Stuart catches June bugs and puts a string on their legs so they fly around in a circle?” Johnny Ray nodded. “That wasn’t a bee that flew out at you. It was a June bug. They like to eat berries. You scared the bug more than it scared you. It only tried to fly away before it got hurt. One flew out at me a minute ago, and I almost yelled and dropped my bucket too.” She gently pushed him toward the briars and encouraged him to resume his picking.
“Just keep your eyes open. Maybe you’ll see the next one before it surprises you.” She returned to her bucket and resumed picking. Sadie barked in the distance chasing a rabbit far down the hollow. Oh well, that’s what a rabbit dog’s really supposed to do.
Maggie had picked more than half her bucket full, she called, “Johnny Ray, I’m going around to the other side of these briars. You stay right there.”
He nodded to let her know he had heard her. “I have my bucket almost half full.”
“Good boy. I’ll be over to see in a minute.” She walked around the bush and grinned to see so much ripe fruit like black jewels hanging in great bunches from the graceful briars. She could fill her bucket in no time. Visualizing the panties and bras in the Sears and Roebuck catalog, she planned to come back every day for a week and pick buckets of berries. For a moment she forgot she had promised to look at Johnny Ray’s berries. “Do you have your bucket full?” She called.
When he didn’t answer, she called louder. “Johnny Ray?” What’s he up to now? She walked around the clump of berry bushes and saw his bucket, but he was nowhere in sight. Thinking maybe he had stepped back into the woods to pee, she walked to the other side of a bushy white pine a few paces into the woods. She knew he would be afraid to go far alone. Alarmed, she called again and a movement several yards away in the woods caught her eye.
She drew a sharp breath when she saw a man in prison clothes clutching Johnny Ray against him with one hand over his mouth. The man leaned back against a fallen tree and held Johnny Ray between his legs. Her heart pounded so loud she could hear it, and her knees felt weak.
“What are you doing?” she demanded and took a few steps toward them.
“Stay right there, or I’ll slit his throat.”
Maggie saw the small pocket knife he held at Johnny Ray’s throat. She could see Johnny Ray’s eyes, huge and full of fear. “What do you want? Turn my brother loose.”
“Listen, girl, you do just like I tell you, and your brother won’t get hurt.” Maggie nodded. “You see them clothes hanging on that line down the hill the
re? Well, you go down there and get me a shirt and a pair of pants. Don’t tell no one. I’ll give you five minutes, and then if you ain’t back with those clothes, I’ll start cutting off his ears, and then his nose before I slit his throat.”
Johnny Ray’s body stiffened, and he tried to twist his head, but the man held him tight. Maggie could hear his muffled cries.
“Don’t be afraid, Johnny Ray. Do just like he says. I’ll be back in no time.” She looked at the man. “You hurt my brother, my daddy’ll kill you.” Maggie turned and ran like a scared rabbit through the pasture toward the Johnsons’ backyard. She had never been so afraid.
I wonder why the prison whistle didn’t blow. Please, God, don’t let him hurt Johnny Ray. She opened the gate and cautiously walked toward the clothesline. She took the clothespins from a shirttail and clipped them back on the line. Then she moved to take a pair of pants. Just as she gripped the clothespin, a dirty hand covered hers and another hand pulled down the line so she stared right into Audie Lee’s eyes. He shook his head from side to side and tried to make her take her hand away.
She had never seen him so close before. The old hat shaded his face, but Maggie could see that his small beady eyes, too close together, made him appear slightly cross-eyed. His long nose and receding chin surrounded by unshaved stubble reminded Maggie of a groundhog. He angrily pried at her hand and shook his head while he made strange grunting noises.
“Audie Lee, I’ve got to borrow these for a little while.” Her voice shook. “My brother’s in trouble, and if I don’t take these clothes, something bad’ll happen to him.” She couldn’t tell if he understood what she said. The angry expression on his face didn’t change, but he gripped her hand more insistently.
“Please, Audie Lee,” she pleaded. But he only shook his head.
Suddenly, she remembered the piece of jewelry she had found in the gully. With her free hand, she pulled it from her pocket and held it out where Audie Lee could see it. He looked at it with interest. “Go on, take it.”
Audie Lee looked at her and grinned. He released her hand and took the shiny thing, turning it over and studying it closely.
When Maggie reached the woods, she hurried toward the man holding Johnny Ray and threw the clothes at his feet. The man released Johnny Ray, and she dropped to her knees, grabbing him in her arms. “Are you okay?” Johnny Ray, trembling from head to toe, nodded. He clung tightly to her and sobbed into her shoulder. “Take those clothes and get out of here,” she hissed. She hugged Johnny Ray to her, and they watched the man pour all of Johnny Ray’s berries into Maggie’s bucket.
“I need some food,” he said. “Besides, no one’ll be suspicious of a berry picker.” Maggie opened her mouth to protest but changed her mind. “Thanks for your help,” he said and walked into the woods carrying the clothes under his arm. Maggie watched him go and fought back tears of relief.
Still on her knees holding her brother, Maggie squeezed him tight. “You were so brave. I’m proud of you.”
“But he took all our berries,” Johnny Ray protested. “Now I won’t get my dime.”
“I know.” She smoothed his hair and hugged him again. “But at least he didn’t hurt you. We’ll pick some more berries tomorrow. You’ll still get your dime.”
From a distance the prison whistle gave a long blast announcing to the countryside that an inmate had escaped. “Let’s go home.” Maggie stood up and took his hand “Mama’ll be worried sick about us.”
CHAPTER 3
Campbell Holler–September 15, 1885 Harvey off to camp meeting again. Gone 2 weeks. Boys helped dig potatoes and onions. Been playing mandolin and teaching them songs. Harvey ain’t here to forbid it.
(Diary of Mary Louise Campbell)
August 1949
Maggie had finished washing the milk pails when she heard a car. After quickly drying her hands, she rushed to look out the front door and saw Mr. Johnson handing a package to Corie Mae, who had stepped out onto the porch.
“June Wilson told me the mailman left this package at her house, and she asked me to drop it off for you.” He mentioned he had been concerned when Ray had come to tell him about the escaped convict and to offer to pay for the clothes the prisoner took. “I found out last week the man has been recaptured.” He noticed Maggie standing inside the screen door. “Glad he didn’t hurt you.” Maggie smiled and nodded.
Corie Mae held the package to her chest. “Kyle, you’re very kind to let us pick the berries. After Ray heard about the convict, he come home early several afternoons to go with Maggie, and they got lots of berries. They didn’t see no more prisoners, but they did see a few copperheads.” Corie Mae turned to Maggie. “Go get a couple jars of that blackberry jam for Mr. Johnson for bringing the package.”
After Maggie returned with the jam, they stood on the porch chatting. A car came up the road, a cloud of dust billowing up behind it. They watched as Reverend Lewis slowed to steer around Mr. Johnson’s car and wave before he continued toward the head of the holler. “What’s he coming for?” Corie Mae wrinkled her brow. “Hope nothing bad’s happened.”
“I’ll be getting on home.” Mr. Johnson took the jars from Maggie. “Thanks for the jam.” He hurried down the stone steps to his car and backed up to turn around in the lane to the barn.
Corie Mae handed the package to Maggie. “I guess this is your new underwear.”
Maggie studied her mother’s face but couldn’t interpret its meaning. “Thank you, Mama.” Without saying anything, Corie Mae opened the screen door to go finish preparing supper.
* * *
Corie Mae had poured the cornbread batter into the hot iron skillet when Grandpa walked into the kitchen. Corie Mae took one look at her father’s troubled face, closed the oven door, and rushed to him. “Papa, what’s wrong?”
“Well, Sis, Preacher Lewis brung us some bad news.”
Corie Mae led him into the front room, and sat down in her rocking chair. Grandpa pulled over a straight chair and sat beside her while the children huddled in the doorway listening. “Reverend Lewis got a call from your cousin Lottie saying Helen died yesterday.”
“Oh, no.” Corie Mae began to sob into her apron.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Junior ran across the room and crawled into her lap. Grandpa took out his bandana and blew his nose.
Maggie returned to the kitchen to make sure the supper was not burning. She remembered her mother telling stories about how Aunt Helen, Grandpa’s only sister, was her favorite aunt. Maggie felt a special kinship to Aunt Helen because her parents had given her Aunt Helen’s middle name, although no one called her “Margaret.”
After Great-grandpa died, Great-grandma had asked Corie Mae to move into the house with her. Later Great-grandma and Corie Mae had ridden the Greyhound bus to Kentucky where they spent most of the summer with Aunt Helen, Great-grandma’s only daughter. Fifteen-year-old Corie Mae and Lottie, Aunt Helen’s daughter, became really close. Lottie was in love with the preacher’s son and before the end of the year had married him.
That summer Corie Mae had met Ray, who lived next door to Aunt Helen. Corie Mae had told the children how Lottie and her beau and she and Ray had spent time together going to church, taking long walks, and visiting the soda fountain at the drug store. The next year Ray had come to Tennessee and married Corie Mae, and the two of them had lived with Great-grandma and cared for her in this very house until she died shortly before Maggie’s birth.
When Maggie returned to the front room, she heard Grandpa explain that he told Reverend Lewis he would send JD over later to call Lottie and tell her what the family had decided to do about going to the funeral.
“I just can’t believe it.” Corie Mae began crying again.
Junior patted her on the cheek. “Don’t cry, Mama.”
Grandpa took Junior into his lap and patted Cora Mae’s arm. “It was her time, I guess. The good Lord knows best. We just have to accept these things. Everything happens for a reason, you know.”
Maggie returned to the kitchen and checked the oven, but the cornbread had not browned. The potatoes and beans were done, so she pulled the pot to the back of the stove and went out on the back porch. This makes me think about last Christmas Eve when Elsie Mae was so sick. Maggie recalled how she had awakened late that night by what had sounded like a baby kitten mewing. Finally, Maggie recognized the cries of her baby sister. Elsie Mae had been sick for a week with a bad cold. But Grandma Campbell’s poultices of onions fried in bacon grease had not helped, and Elsie Mae had gotten worse. Maggie went downstairs where Corie Mae sat near the Warm Morning stove in her rocking chair, holding the toddler to her breast. Elsie Mae’s curly red hair framed her face. Maggie had watched with alarm as the baby struggled to breathe.
“Ray’s walked up to Johnsons to see if Kyle will take him down to the preacher’s house to call the doctor.” Corie Mae pointed to the stove. “Would you poke up the fire and put in some more coal? She’s hot with fever, but her little body’s trembling.” When Maggie had built up the fire, Corie Mae pointed toward the stairs. “You go on back to bed. Ain’t nothing more you can do for her.”
Maggie had held the baby’s little hand, but there was no response–her little body limp as a cooked noodle. Maggie had touched the red curls then climbed back up the stairs but could not go to sleep for listening to every rasping breath. After daylight the doctor finally arrived and pressed his stethoscope to her chest shaking his head. He had given her a shot, but it was too late. She had been such a sweet little girl, just barely two.
Daddy was as broke up as Mama. Maggie wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and went inside to check the cornbread, feeling a heavy sadness.
* * *
Later that evening, JD and Aunt Lillian came over, and Maggie, Corie Mae, and Ray joined them at the kitchen table speaking softly so not to disturb the sleeping children. “I told Joe Clark if he’d cover for me the rest of this week at the station, I’d take his shift next week,” JD said. “So I guess I’ll be driving Grandma and Grandpa up to Kentucky for the funeral.”