by Ruth White
Cedar walked up beside Peter.
“I came to borrow Rita,” Miss Arbutus said.
“Say what?” Cedar said, wrinkling up his forehead.
“I want to borrow Rita for a while.”
The boys just looked at her.
“I need somebody to dote on,” Miss Arbutus explained.
The curious eyes of the neighbors watched Miss Arbutus walk back to The Roost, leading the little girl by the hand, one as silent as the other.
Goldie Combs was right. Uncle Chris did not come to see if Ruby needed anything that day, as he had said he would. After supper she told Ruby to drop everything and come in and sit down.
“Now talk to me,” she ordered. “And don’t use big words. I don’t like big words.”
“Well, I—”
“You’re sleeping in your mama’s room,” Grandma Combs interrupted. “She’s the one put all that stuff on the wall.”
“You mean the wallpaper samples?”
“Yeah, and the writing on the wallpaper.”
Ruby was surprised. “I didn’t see any writing.”
“Well, you have to look close and squint. She wrote real tiny. Her teachers always grumbled about that.”
Ruby was eager to see what her mother had written, but she would wait until she was excused.
Still, she had to ask, “What did she have to say?”
“How should I know?” Grandma was cross again. “Or even care? She always had too much to say. That was her problem. Besides, I can’t see anything that little. Maybe you can read it.”
“Don’t you have reading glasses?” Ruby asked. She knew quite a lot about reading glasses, as Miss Arbutus, Mrs. Thornton Elkins, Mr. Crawford, and practically everybody over forty who came to The Roost had to wear them.
“Reading glasses! Who do you think I am, the Queen of England? We don’t have reading glasses up here on this mountain.”
Ruby didn’t believe that was true. Glasses were not some newfangled gadget. And she knew they were not very expensive.
“I will ask Miss Arbutus to send you a pair, if you like,” she offered.
Grandma narrowed her eyes and looked at Ruby with distrust. “For how much!”
“Miss Arbutus would be glad to buy you a pair of glasses,” Ruby said with confidence. “Mr. Doctor sells them in his waiting room. He will give her a discount.”
“Who’s Mr. Doctor?”
“He’s the town doctor in Way Down, and he takes care of everybody’s health, including their eyes, but not their teeth. His wife is Mrs. Doctor, the dentist. Mrs. Doctor does a good business, cleaning and filling and pulling teeth.
“Their last name is Justus, but you can see how that would get confusing, to have two Dr. Justuses, so—”
“I get it, I get it,” the old lady mumbled.
“Anyhow, the doctors are not rich, by any means, because it is the general belief of Way Down people that you only get sick when you’re unhappy. So they stay as happy as possible. Most of Mr. Doctor’s business is delivering babies, giving shots, and stuff like that.
“He could make lots more money if he moved to a sad town, but the people in Way Down want to keep him. So when the word gets around that Mr. Doctor’s side of the waiting room is empty, the people put their heads together and plan appointments for routine checkups.”
Grandma pretended not to be interested in the doctors. She frowned as she picked aimlessly at her sheets, then scowled, and fluffed up her pillow. But somehow Ruby knew that she had finally said something Grandma wanted to hear, and that she was listening to every word. So Ruby went on and on, telling her as many stories as she could recall about Mr. and Mrs. Doctor.
When Grandma let her go, Ruby cleaned up the kitchen before going to her room to search the wallpaper for her mother’s writing.
She found it first among the parasols, where the blue sky allowed wide clean spaces for writing. Ruby was immediately enchanted, for the young Jo Combs had written notes to her dead father!
Dear Daddy, I wish you were here. We have a new calf. Her name is Ruby. That is my favorite name. You would love her. She has a star on her forehead. Love, Jo
Dear Daddy, The kitten died. And I cried. I thought if you were here you would pet me and tell me don’t cry. Love, Jo
Dear Daddy, Chris and Max are married and gone. I am all alone with Mama, and there is no gladness left in her. Love, Jo
Ruby was thoughtful as she dressed for bed. Here was something to occupy her mind. There was enough writing on the walls to last for days, and she would savor it.
25
WHEN UNCLE CHRIS CAME ON SATURDAY, HIS ARMS loaded down with grocery bags, his mother was in the bathroom, taking a bath. Ruby held the door for her uncle.
“This ain’t all of it,” Uncle Chris said. “The boys have the rest.”
“The boys?”
“Yeah, my boys are out there around the corner of the house. They won’t come in.”
“Why not?”
Uncle Chris set the groceries on the table, then turned to Ruby and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
She went out with her uncle. Two of the boys had already propped their bags against the house and headed back down the path. But one of them had stayed behind. When Ruby rounded the corner of the house, he was standing there chewing on a blade of grass.
“Hey, cousin!” he said, grinning. “I’m Sidney.”
“I’m Ruby,” Ruby said, and held out her hand to Sidney. “And I’m awfully glad to meet you.”
Sidney laughed out loud. “I bet you are! By this time, you’d be glad to meet the devil his own self!”
“Now, Sidney, don’t you be acting smart!” Uncle Chris scolded his youngest son.
Then Uncle Chris picked up the bags from the ground and carried them inside. Ruby lingered on with Sidney.
“What do you mean?” she asked him.
“I mean you must be going crazy with nobody around but Grandma.”
“It does get lonely,” Ruby confessed.
“Do you have time to get lonely?” Sidney asked. “Don’t she keep you jumping at her command?”
“Well . . .” Ruby started to admit it was true, but thought better of it.
“Yeah, they sure pulled a fast one on you,” Sidney said with a chuckle.
Ruby found his laughter irritating, as if she were slowwitted, and he was making fun.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they stuck you up here with the old battleax without telling you how hateful she is, and how hard she is to please. And you have to take it. You can’t get away!”
Ruby was speechless. Uncle Chris came out and picked up the last of the bags.
When his father had gone back inside, Sidney said, “She ran everybody else off long ago. Daddy only comes up here ’cause he has to. She helped him buy the store, and he owes her, but he’s scared to death of her. Nobody can stand her.”
“So that’s why you stayed out here in the heat?”
“Yeah, and I wouldn’t go in there for water if I was on fire. The minute she sees me, she goes into one of her tirades.” Sidney paused. “But hey, maybe you get along with the old girl, huh?”
His eyes twinkled.
Ruby said nothing. For a moment she had the dreadful feeling that she might cry. But she swallowed hard. She would not let her cousin make her cry.
“She needs a lot of help,” Ruby said.
“Yeah, Mama used to come up here and do for her, but she couldn’t please her. Daddy has hired about a dozen different people to take care of her, but she runs them off. So when Mama and Daddy heard about you, I could see the wheels turning in their heads. ‘Yeah!’ they were thinking. ‘Slave labor!’ ”
Ruby felt her face go red with anger.
“Why didn’t your brothers hang around to meet me?” she said, trying to stay calm.
Sidney laughed. “Oh, them? They’re just like Mama. She didn’t want to meet you either. She’s afraid she may like you, and then she’
d feel guilty about sending the lamb to the slaughter.”
Ruby couldn’t hold back any longer. “Such thoughtful relatives!” she said sarcastically. “Maybe it was an angel of mercy who took me away from here!”
Sidney smirked. Ruby turned on her heel and stomped away from him. In the kitchen Uncle Chris was storing the perishables in the refrigerator. Ruby began to unload the other bags.
“Doesn’t Grandma have to take some kind of medicine?” she asked him. “You didn’t bring any, and I haven’t seen any around.”
“Medicine?” Uncle Chris said. “For what?”
“For whatever ails her.”
“Oh, that.” Uncle Chris dismissed her question and pointed to the mail on the table. “Letter came for you.”
Ruby picked up the envelope and read the return address. It was from Miss Arbutus.
“I have written some letters, too,” she said to her uncle. “Will you mail them for me?”
“Sure thing!”
When Ruby brought the letters to Uncle Chris, he said, “I gotta go now. Tell Mama we didn’t have any of those pickled pig’s feet she likes so much. But I’ll bring her some next week.”
“You don’t want to see her today?” Ruby asked.
“I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“Uncle Chris, how long did the judge say I should stay here before I go back to see him?”
“He didn’t say.”
Uncle Chris gave her a quick nervous glance and was gone. She watched him go down the path with Sidney. When they were out of sight, Ruby sat and propped her elbows on the table, put her chin in her hands, and let out a long weary sigh. It would be a week before she saw anybody again.
In Way Down, Miss Arbutus and Rita were in the yard petting Jethro.
“He won’t climb the woodpile anymore,” Miss Arbutus was telling Rita. “He just stands here all day long and watches the back door, hoping Ruby June will come out.”
Rita turned large sad eyes to Miss Arbutus. Today the child was brightly dressed up in a sunsuit that Ruby had outgrown years ago. It was white with red ladybugs scattered all over it.
At that moment somebody opened the screen door, and Jethro lurched in joyful anticipation, but it was only Miss Worly.
“Miss Arbutus,” she said. “Do you routinely quench the thirst of the Viola tricolor hortensis?”
Miss Arbutus smiled. “Yes, I water the pansies every day.”
“Nevertheless, they appear to be in delicate health. I am apprehensive for their continued existence.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Miss Arbutus said sadly. “They miss Ruby June so much, they are dying with grief.”
26
I GOT A PACKAGE FROM MISS ARBUTUS,’ RUBY SAID TO Grandma Combs.
Two more Saturdays had passed, and this time her uncle had set the groceries and mail on the porch, not even bothering to come in. Again he had claimed to be in a hurry, and Ruby’s cousins could be seen retreating rapidly down the path.
“She sent me some library books, and you some magazines,” Ruby said brightly.
Grandma sat up in bed as Ruby handed the magazines to her.
“Life,” Grandma said almost pleasantly. “I’ve always enjoyed their pictures.”
“Now you can do more than look at the pictures!” Ruby happily announced. “See! Miss Arbutus also sent you a pair of reading glasses!” And Ruby produced the glasses with a flourish.
Without speaking, Grandma put the glasses on.
“Now you can also read what my mama wrote on the wall!” Ruby said, very pleased with herself that she could do this favor for her grandma.
Grandma grunted.
Ruby lingered, waiting for some kind of reaction from the woman. Finally she had to know.
“Can you read the words in the magazine?”
“Shut up and get out of here!”
Ruby went into her own room, looked at the notes on the wall, and sighed. She knew that Jo Combs had never become hardened to her mother’s harshness, nor would she.
In her letters to Miss Arbutus, Ruby had not reported all of her difficulties with Grandma Combs, but she had complained that there was no radio or phonograph or reading material in the house.
Miss Worly had recommended . . . And Now Miguel and Hurry Home, Candy for Ruby. They were enclosed, along with a Tarzan book and a Trixie Belden mystery, both chosen by Miss Arbutus. Ruby took the four books and placed them on a shelf beside her bed.
While there, she took the time to study once again two special pictures she had tacked onto the wall above the shelf.
The day before, in the ceiling of the room that served as a laundry room and pantry, Ruby had opened the door to the attic and pulled down the steps. Quietly she had explored while her grandma was sleeping. There she had found some of her own baby clothes with R-U-B-Y embroidered on them. She had also found pictures of her mother as a child, and a few of Uncle Chris and his kids. But one of the pictures was more special than all the others. On the back, in her mama’s small handwriting, she had read:
The Hurleys: Clay, Jo, and Ruby
Norfolk, Virginia, Christmas 1943
Only two months before they were killed! Now Ruby couldn’t get enough of staring at it.
There they were—like three kids together. Even in black-and-white her mother sparkled. Ruby guessed that the dress was red in honor of Christmas, and her father wore a dark suit and tie, his eyes and blond hair shining under the photographer’s lights. Ruby, in a white dress, bounced on her daddy’s knee, and smiled at the camera.
“My mama and daddy were awfully good-looking,” she said to herself proudly, perhaps for the hundredth time. “And we were such a happy family. Just look at those smiles!”
The second picture on the wall was one of herself, Peter, and Bird, which Slim had sent to her from the ones he had taken that special Saturday night in Way Down.
Bird was looking at the sky, and Ruby was standing between him and Peter, smiling, totally unaware of the changes about to come. Would she ever get back to that life?
Later on that evening, at the Roost, Mrs. Thornton Elkins entered the kitchen, where Miss Arbutus was stirring something on the stove. She was running late in preparing supper.
“How much longer do you think it will be?” Mrs. Thornton Elkins asked her.
A less gracious person might have taken offense at being rushed by a charity tenant, but Miss Arbutus, being like she was, apologized.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I know you are all hungry. It won’t be much longer.”
Mrs. Thornton Elkins studied Miss Arbutus’s face and thought she detected sorrow there. She could not remember a single time this good lady had been late in preparing a meal. Then an idea popped into her head.
“Could you use some help?” she asked, surprising Miss Arbutus so profoundly that she dropped her stirring spoon on the floor.
Without a word, Mrs. Thornton Elkins bent over for the utensil, wiped up the splatters it had made on the floor, and fetched a clean spoon for Miss Arbutus.
“Perhaps I can do the chores that Ruby June used to do,” Mrs. Thornton Elkins said, further surprising Miss Arbutus so that she could not answer.
Being used to Miss Arbutus’s silence, Mrs. Thornton Elkins did not realize that the proprietor of The Roost was too taken aback to respond.
“I know Ruby June poured the tea and lemonade,” Mrs. Thornton Elkins went on, as she timidly opened the refrigerator.
Miss Arbutus finally found her voice. “Ruby Jo,” she said.
“Beg your pardon?” said Mrs. Thornton Elkins. Carefully she began to fill glasses with ice.
“She wrote to me that she wants to be called Ruby Jo now.”
“Oh, I see. Ruby Jo. That’s good. It’s nice for her to know who she is at last.”
“You can get the salad out of the refrigerator,” Miss Arbutus said to her. “And the butter and deviled eggs.”
There was silence for a few moments as the two women
worked together.
“Thank you, Mrs. Thornton Elkins,” Miss Arbutus finally said, almost in a whisper.
“Call me Lucy,” Mrs. Thornton Elkins said.
“Beg your pardon?”
“My given name is Lucy.”
Miss Arbutus smiled. “Thank you, Lucy.”
As Lucy placed napkins on the table, she said softly, “Yes, it’s nice to know who you are.”
27
SOMETIMES RUBY WENT TO PICK WILDFLOWERS FOR THE kitchen table, just to escape the house. How good it was to be out and away from the demands and insults of her grandma!
Now, toward the end of July, the blackberries were hanging plump and dark on their bushes. So Ruby took a pail to a spot on the mountain that had few trees and lots of sunshine. Here her thoughts were her own without interruption. She looked around at the beauty and loneliness of this place and imagined her mother picking blackberries at this same spot.
Within the past few weeks, she had told her grandma about the Mullins family and their snack bar in a boxcar. She had also talked about the Morgans and their drugstore and old Mrs. Rife, who liked to throw rocks when she was mad. Grandma had liked that story very much.
She had talked about Mr. Farmer, who was so traumatized by the war that he drank liquor to forget; the rhyming Reeders, whom Grandma knew only slightly; the Fuller triplets and their street preaching; Granny Butler, the albino; Mrs. Bevins and her outlandish outfits; and more.
But she had saved The Roost residents for last.
“I just hope I can hang on here long enough to tell her about them,” Ruby said to herself as she placed a handful of berries in the pail.
She looked at her hands, which were stained purple. Miss Arbutus would tell her to wash them with Lava soap, but she had none here. Her fingernails were a disgrace. But Goldie Combs had made fun when Ruby asked her about a nail file.
“Mountain women don’t have time to waste on fingernails!” her grandma had snorted. “Just bite ’em off when they get in your way!”