by Risner, Fay
Gracie's hands fisted on her hips. “If I were your wife I'd put rat poison in your coffee. That would fix you.”
Neff belched. “If I were your husband, I'd drink it and be glad to be done with ya. What are you doing out here anyway?”
Gracie said, “We're house sitting for the Sawyers for a while.”
Neff reached down beside his perch and picked up a glass with a small amount of amber colored liquid in it. He held the glass up toward the women. “Here's one for the road, Ladies.” He drained the glass and belched again.
Gracie fumed, “Neff, you done had more to drink already than there are roads in this county. Why not take a break from bending your elbow.”
Neff glared at her. “Tha' none of yer business.”
“Gracie, don't,” Melinda said. To change the subject she asked, “Your hens laying pretty good, Mr. Graves?”
“Not tooooo bad considerin',” Neff said sluggishly, leaning to the side. His hands poised over the wash pan, and his eyelids were almost closed.
“Considering what? Thad Sawyer said he gave you some of his best laying hens.” When Gracie barked, Neff's eyes opened wide.
Neff had to gather his thoughts for a second. “These are not his hens. These are Millard Sokal's hens.”
“What happened to Thad's hens?” Gracie snapped.
“Stop shouting at me. You hurt my ears. Them hens quit layin' on me two flocks ago so we ate them. Millard gave me a new ----,”
Gracie interrupted him. “Where did you get the rest of the hens, you scoundrel?”
“Mrs. Simpleton gave me a dozen. When they quit layin' I traded 'em to Edd Granger for whiskey. Yesterday, I asked Millard for a start of his layin' hens.” Neff stopped talking. His eyes shut, and he snored.
Behind the ladies, a tired and nasally female voice said slowly, “Can I help you?”
They turned to find Lettie, Neff's wife, drying her hands on her stained blue apron. Her yellow cotton dress had faded out until it matched the pallor of her skin. Behind her stood, a bunch of younguns in different sizes.
Shana recognized one of the girls about her age. “Hello, May Jean. Remember me, Shana?”
“I do. Want to come look at our new puppies? They just came,” the girl invited.
“Sure, I do.” Half the kids took off on the run to show Shana the puppies, and the older children sauntered back to the house.
Neff let out a loud rumbling snore as he wavered back and forth. The wash pan fell off his lap. Water droplets splashed on the bottom of Gracie and Melinda's dresses and muddied the soil around their shoes. Neff leaned slowly sideways and fell off the stump in slow motion. His hat flew off his head as he landed in a ball on the ground. As soon as he hit the ground, he went back to snoring.
“Sorry about this. Neff must be really tired today. He ought to have better manners when we have company,” Lettie excused slowly in her whiny voice.
“That's all right,” Melinda said sympathetically. “We understand.”
“Was there something you ladies wanted?” Lettie asked again.
Gracie explained, “We're staying at the Sawyer place for a while. We're just out for a walk around the neighborhood. I've been showing Melinda and the girl where I grew up. I did want to ask Neff if he happened to notice anyone in my family cemetery lately.”
“Any certain reason?” Lettie asked. She griped her hands under her apron and looked worried.
“Someone has been digging around near my little brother's grave. I don't like seeing that. I cain't figure out what anyone would be do that. Can you, Lettie?”
“No, I can't imagine why?” She put a hand to her throat. “I will be sure to ask Neff if he knows anything when he wakes up.”
“Good. When I get back to Locked Rock, I'll get a hold of the sheriff and have him poke around out here,” Gracie said.
Lettie took a deep breath. “Well, if that is all, I reckon I best get back to my work.”
“That's it as soon as we round up the girl,” Gracie said.
“Shana,” Melinda called.
The kids came running. Shana stopped by May Jean at Lettie's side. “What did you want?”
“It's time to go home,” Gracie said.
“Can May Jean come home with me for a few days? It would be fun to have someone me age to play with,” Shana asked.
Gracie eyed the slim, little girl that looked a lot like her mother. She looks harmless enough. “I don't know. What do you think, Lettie?”
Lettie shrugged. “I don't mind if May Jean wants to stay with you.”
The girls took off on the run down the road as Gracie and Melinda followed them.
“Those poor children and Lettie. How do they put up with such as that from that awful man,” Melinda fumed in a low voice.
“Life's never going to get any better for them. That's a hard scrabble farm Neff rented. Hard enough to work poor farm land for an able body man and impossible for Neff Graves. He doesn't even try,” Gracie complained.
“I expect it would take years to scratch out a living on a farm like that. With as many mouths as there is in that family, they will never get ahead,” Melinda said wisely.
“Lettie looks like she's wore out enough to drop over if a good wind blew at her,” Gracie said.
“That's what happens when a woman has one baby after another. She sure talks slow, doesn't she?” Melinda said.
“Yip. It plain hurts me to wait for her to stop talking. I want to finish the sentences for her,” Gracie said.
After supper, Shana and May Jean asked Melinda for a jar with a lid. They wanted to go outside to catch lightning bugs.
Gracie and Melinda went to the living room. Melinda sat in one rocker, and Gracie in the other. They rocked in silence. Their heads leaned back. They closed their eyes. This was just like what they would have done on the porch at Moser Mansion.
Finally, Melinda said, “Gracie, was it just me or did Lettie look nervous when you talked about asking the sheriff to look around the graves in your cemetery.”
“Nope, it wasn't just you, but I couldn't figure out why she'd be fidgety about it.”
“She wouldn't be unless she knew something about what happened in the cemetery,” Melinda said. She paused for a moment. “Lettie surely had her baby by now. She was expecting the last time I saw her in the Mercantile. Wonder how that turned out?”
“I'd say we should ask Lettie to see her baby next time we're over there just to find out,” Gracie said.
“That would be nice.” Melinda rocked a moment and suddenly braced her feet on the floor. “Oh, dear. You don't think the baby in the cemetery is Lettie's, do you?”
Gracie shrugged and went back to rocking in silence.
When the girls came in, Gracie and Melinda had gone to bed. The house was dark. May Jean said, “I'll race you to the bedroom.” She took off running. When she reached the middle of the living room, she headed left instead of right.
Shana said, “Wait! Don't go in there!”
She spoke too late. May Jean landed on top Gracie and Melinda. Gracie squalled like a mad cat.
Melinda screamed, “Indians! The Indians are attacking us.”
“Oh! My goodness!” May Jean cried as she struggled to untangle herself from the thrashing women. “Help me, Shana, before they beat me to death. I got the wrong bed. I'm so sorry. Miss Gracie and Miss Melinda. Wake up, and let me get off the bed.”
“For lands sakes, it isn't an Indian,” Melinda said sheepishly.
“I never thought it was,” Gracie said. “An attacking Indian would never make this much noise.”
Shana took May Jean's hand and pulled her over Gracie and out of the bed.
Gracie said gruffly, “Girl, you should be sorry to wake us old women out of a sound sleep. At our age, we need all the rest we can get.”
“You half scared us to death. Scaring old women isn't good,” scolded Melinda.
“Yes, I know. I'm sorry,” May Jean said meekly, ducking her head as she s
tarted for the door behind Shana.
Gracie admonished, “Wait up! I'm not done with you two yet. Don't be jumping on the bed in the other room like you just done in here. The ropes are old, and they might break. I don't want Abigail coming back home to a broken bed.”
“Yes, ma'am, Miss Gracie,” May Jean said.
“Shana, did you hear me?” Gracie barked.
“Yes, Aunt Gracie,” Shana answered and pushed May Jean out of the room. “Good night,” she called over her shoulder.
As Shana shut the door, May Jean said, “They sure get grumpy when they get woke up sudden like.”
Chapter 9
The rest of the week was uneventful. The girls played with the kittens. Shana declared that was one of her chores assigned by Abigail. She had to keep the kittens tame so Abigail could play with them when she came home without the kittens hissing at her. May Jean grumbled that she would like fun chores like this one at her house.
One afternoon, Shana asked May Jean if she wanted to see the remains of the soddy where Gracie lived when her parents homesteaded Three Oaks farm. As they walked down the lane, Spot followed but only for a few minutes. He stopped, sniffed the air and took off through the brush. Barking and yipping, he jumped under a bush and flushed out a rabbit. After that, he chased the rabbit through the trees until the rabbit hid. Shana tried to call Spot back, but the dog kept going. He thrashed through the undergrowth and yipped as he trailed that rabbit or some other animal.
By the time the girls walked back home, Spot was there to meet them. The girls tried to pat him, but the dog was covered in cockle burrs.
Shana went to the barn and found the horses curry comb. May Jean took turns with her, combing Spot until they retrieved most of the burrs out of his fur.
Another afternoon, Shana asked if May Jean would like to see the pond where they fished.
May Jean was all for that. “Think we can go wading?”
“Maybe. Aunt Gracie said I had to be careful not to fall in around the edges of the bank. She didn't say I couldn't wade in the pond. I think the lower end is shallow enough,” Shana said. “We have to come back in time to gather the eggs. That's part of my chores.”
Spot took off after the girls. He ran around them, and when he got too far ahead, he ran back to meet them. Shana said, “We got to do something about Spot. He don't stay close to us good enough. He will be covered in burrs again. I'm going back to the barn and get a piece of rope I saw hanging on a nail.”
Shana ran back to the barn while May Jean kept her arms around Spot's neck. Shana put the loop end of the rope over Spot's head.
As they walked through the pasture, Spot was forced to stay with them. Shana tied the dog to a chock cherry sprout while they wadded in the pond. He barked and tugged on the rope hard enough to bend the sprout, but he couldn't get loose. When the girls had enough of wading and splashing water at each other, they rolled their trouser legs back down and headed home.
By the time Gracie saw them at chore time, their clothes had dried. Shana and May Jean came across the pasture with Spot in the lead, pulling Shana along at a fast clip. Gracie waited until they came in the barn yard.
“Youngun, what you doing to that dog?” She asked.
“Spot follows us everywhere we go,” Shana said.
“So what is the rope for?” Gracie asked.
“The rope tis what helps him follow me,” Shana answered.
“Unhuh, looks to me like the other way around. You're following Spot,” Gracie said. “Just see you don't be mean to that dog.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Shana said quietly.
By Sunday morning, May Jean didn't show any signs of being homesick yet. At breakfast, Gracie said, “We're going to Locked Rock for church this morning. Plan on eating dinner at Moser Mansion. You going with us, May Jean for the whole day, or you want let off at home as we go by?”
May Jean said quietly, “I think I'd like to go along.”
“Do we need to tell your mother where you're at?” Melinda asked.
May Jean nodded slowly. “No, she has so many of us to take care of she ain't missing me. Besides, she knows I'm in good hands.”
“You do need a change of clothes, dear. You've worn those trousers and that shirt all week,” Melinda said. “We might ought to stop by your home, and let you change since we're going to church. You need to wear something nicer than what you have on.”
“Do we have to stop at my house?” May Jean fretted.
Shana said, “She can wear one of my dresses. I brought two.”
“I can,can't I?” May Jean said, brightening up.
“Well, all right, if that is what you want to do,” Melinda assented.
“Before you girls put on clean dresses, wash up good,” Gracie ordered.
The ride to Locked Rock was a pleasant one. The feel of the light breeze on their faces was refreshing. After a week on the farm, Melinda thought it felt good to be going somewhere again. she prattled on. “It's too quiet on the farm. I'm glad we're going to church this morning. I miss hearing the neighbors' conversations and laughter from my rocker on the front porch. Always some action with riders or buggies going by. More places to go then just to the pond to fish or over to see the Graves family. Stores to shop in, and church to go to.”
Gracie grunted. “That's the whole idea of living on the farm. It's peaceful.”
When they sat down to eat Sunday dinner, Melinda declared it would be good to eat Agnes's cooking again. She was getting tired of eating her own.
As they passed the bowls, Gracie handed Shana the meat platter. “This fried chicken sure smells good, don't it, Shana?”
The girl gave the platter a sad look. “Mama Molly, did any of these chickens have names?”
“I don't think so,” Molly said slowly. “Why did you ask?”
“The Sawyer hens have names. Aunt Gracie introduced me to some of them. I don't want to be eatin' any hens I know personally,” Shana said.
Orie chocked on a drink of water. He coughed before he spoke. “Don't worry, Shana. These chickens are safe to eat. They were all strangers.”
That remark made everyone laugh.
Gracie and Melinda were eager to find out if anything interesting had happened in town while they had been gone.
After lunch, Gracie said she was going over to visit with Earl and Sara Bullock a few minutes. She asked Melinda if she'd like to go along to say hello. Melinda was all for that.
Sara invited them to sit at the kitchen table. While Sara and Melinda talked about the latest gossip, Gracie said to Earl, “I need to talk to you about something. I wondered if you could pass it on to Sheriff Logan for me.”
“Sure, what's wrong?” Earl said, puffing on his pipe.
“I'm not real sure, but I'm uneasy. We've been going for walks around the farm so I can show Melinda and Shana where I grew up. We visited the family cemetery at the end of the lane next to the road. Someone has been digging in it. A small spot right next to my baby brother's grave has been disturbed.”
“That is odd.” Earl stuck his pipe in his mouth and puffed faster.
“We're thinking it might be a fresh grave,” Gracie said.
Earl straightened up. “By gum, the sheriff would like to hear about this.”
“Odder yet was when we saw a woman, all dressed in white, wandering through my timber one night with a lantern. We went to see what she was up to and found her in the cemetery. She was standing over the turned up dirt. She even bent over and patted the soil.”
“Really!”
“Yip, looked to us like, she was mourning over someone buried there. Thing is, no one has asked to bury a body in my cemetery. The spot is a small one like the size of a baby's grave. Has someone lost a baby or young child and reported it to you?”
Earl nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. “No, haven't heard a thing.”
“Could you check with, Sheriff Logan? If he hasn't heard anything about a death, I'd like him to come out and look aroun
d.”
“You did recognize the woman?”
“Nope, we weren't close enough, and it was dark. When I yelled at her, she put out the lantern, climbed over the fence and disappeared in the trees before we could get close,” Gracie explained.
“I'll call the sheriff's office in the morning and tell Logan all about this,” Earl said.
“Thanks, Earl. That sure is a load off my mind,” Gracie said.
That afternoon when they drove by Neff Graves's place, one of the boys, Boomer, waved them down. When Gracie whoed the horse, he said, “Mama's wondering when May Jean is coming home?”
“What she want me home for?” May Jean bristled.
“Don't reckon for any reason, but Papa has missed you,” Jeb said, giving her a meaningful look that only May Jean understood.
“Oh. May Jean shrank in the seat beside Shana.
Melinda said, “Maybe you better get out now, dear. We don't want your parents mad at us.”
“What about Shana's dress I'm wearing?”
“Just give it back to Shana the next time you see her,” Gracie said.
Reluctantly, May Jean climbed out of the buggy and waved goodbye to them.
In the middle of the night, a thunder storm came up. Lightning flashed and cracked. Thunder boomed. The wind howled around the house as hard pelting rain beat on the tin roof.
Melinda sat up in bed. “That sounds awful outside.”
“And you're the one who said the country was too quiet. Go back to sleep, and hope this storm blows over soon so it gets quiet around here again,” Gracie mumbled as she turned over on her side.
Shana crawled out of bed and looked out her window at the storm. A flash of lightening lit up the sky and the yard. Near a tree by the lane, Shana saw a small figure dressed in white. The figure walked slowly across the lane. Whoever it was stopped and turned to stare toward the house, before disappearing into the timber.
Shana gripped the sill and stared at the timber. It was a will o wisp just like the ones her folks talked about in Ireland. This one was roaming about in a rain storm. That wasn't good. It being this close to the house was bad, too. Shana debated about waking Gracie. She decided that was a poor idea, knowing how crabby the women were when they were waken out of a sound sleep. They wouldn't believe her story anyway without some proof. She'd keep what she saw to herself and go back to bed.