by Ruth White
Ruby had lost so much weight and sleep that she did not look like the same girl who had once thrived at The Roost. She looked more like a waif who had no one to care for her.
While Ruby had been out picking flowers after supper, Grandma had gone into her room. She had seen the picture tacked on the wall and confronted Ruby when she came back in.
In the previous days Grandma had become more and more difficult. Nothing, not even Ruby’s stories of Way Down, could keep her in a good mood.
Ruby still clutched the flowers in her hand. “Please, Grandma, I would like to have the picture back.”
Though she remained polite, she was beginning to tremble. She had never felt such a terrible emotion as this. It was almost as if . . . as if she would like to scream at her grandma . . . or worse yet, hit her!
“You had it stored away in an attic where you never looked at it.” Ruby tried to reason with the woman.
“If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a thief!” Grandma said nastily.
Ruby carefully placed the flowers in the sink, then went to her room and sat down on the bed. She closed her eyes and began to count her breaths. It was a trick she had learned from Miss Arbutus. Presently she felt all her anger drain away, and peace settled over her.
She walked back into the kitchen and found Grandma just as she had left her. Her eyes narrowed as Ruby approached.
“Grandma, it’s time for me to go home.”
“You are home!” Grandma snapped.
Ruby reached out and placed a hand on Goldie Combs’s arm. “No, Grandma, this is not my true home.”
But Grandma shrugged her away. “I am your legal guardian. You can’t leave me.”
“I have to. I’m suffocating here.”
Then Ruby walked into her room again, pulled her suitcase from under the bed, and began to pack her things.
Goldie Combs walked to her doorway. “You mean now?” she shrieked at Ruby. “You are leaving right now?”
“Yes, I’m going to walk down to Uncle Chris’s house and ask him to drive me to Way Down. If he won’t do it, then I’ll call Miss Arbutus, and she will send somebody for me.”
“But it’s nearly dark. It’ll be pitch-black before you get to Chris’s house!”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You can’t do this to me again, Jolene!”
“I’m not Jolene, Grandma. I’m Ruby Jo, and I have to go. The judge said I should come back to see him after my visit, and now my visit is over.”
“We’ll just see about that!”
“I’m sorry for you,” Ruby went on in the same calm voice. “I want to help you, but I can’t stay here without . . .” Ruby searched for the right words. “I don’t know exactly know how to explain it, Grandma, but I feel like . . . if I stayed here, something in me would . . . shrivel up and die.”
Goldie Combs studied the face of the girl for a long time before she said, “You sound just like your mama.”
With that, it seemed Grandma had run out of steam. She suddenly looked older, sicker, as she walked slowly back to her bedroom.
A few minutes later, from the front door, Ruby called, “Goodbye, Grandma. I have to hurry now.”
“Just wait until morning,” Grandma said, but Ruby did not hear her.
She closed the door behind her and hurried along the path, eager to be at the bottom of the mountain before total darkness fell upon her. Already the woods seemed murky, as in her dreams.
Could she really do this? Could she find her way in the dark? Might she wander off the path and into those scary trees? She looked back at the house once, then clutched the suitcase tightly, and plunged into the woods.
30
THERE WAS SUCH A HUSH IN THE COMMON ROOM, MISS Arbutus had to glance around at the faces to make sure they were not asleep. Quite the contrary, the people were hanging on to every word she uttered. Eyes were wide and mouths were gaping.
Rita Reeder had managed to get away from Robber Bob and moved toward Miss Arbutus. She smiled at the child and lifted her gently onto her lap.
“I skimmed over the earth like the wind.” Miss Arbutus continued her story. “My feet barely touched the ground. I often travel this way in dreams. I did not know where I was, but I followed my heart down the mountain.
“I soon discovered my hair was blowing into the little girl’s face. So I stopped in the woods, and by the light of the moon I found a fine young vine, with which I secured my hair. Then I took the child on my back again, but before I could move on, I saw something—a panther!”
A gasp went around the room.
“He was coming toward us through the woods, his sleek black body moving as a shark moves through water. The child saw him, too. I could feel her fast puffs of breath against my neck.
“But I assured her this elegant cat would not hurt us. He felt a kinship to me, for he was the last of his kind, and an aching loneliness hung about him like a tangible thing.
“He did run with us, however, but only because he was in awe of me for the speed with which I could travel. He kept up with me for some distance. I could see his green eyes glowing at my heels.
“When I finally leapt ahead and outran him, he let forth that human scream which was heard and feared by the people on the mountain that night. I imagined them cowering in their beds as they watched their moonlit windows.”
At this point Rita was playing with Miss Arbutus’s hair, gently removing the pins until it fell thick and dark against the rose silk of her dress. A glow of soft lamplight lay about the woman in the chair. With wonder in their eyes, the townspeople looked at her and thought her beautiful.
“Where was she,” the men asked themselves, “when I was looking for a wife? Why did I not see her?”
Others were thinking, “Was it her silence that made us think of her as dull?”
Miss Arbutus was caught up in her story and unaware of her transformation in the eyes of the townspeople. She continued.
“With the toddler giggling and whispering ‘Hossie! Hossie!’ I galloped through the valleys and woods, up and down the mountains, and over the streams.
“At one place I followed the road. Black snakes had come out to sleep on the pavement, for it was still warm from the previous day. But I hopscotched over them, and the little girl giggled.
“In a dark, cool hollow I stopped to rest. The child climbed off my back and played in the creek. Her tears had dried, and I never knew her to cry for her mommie again.
“Then I heard singing. The girl heard it, too, for she was as quiet as the stars. My mother used to tell me that at certain times if you listen, you can hear the hills singing, and I knew that’s what it was.
“These hills hold the memories of people who have lived here for more than a thousand seasons, and they sing of lost love, broken hearts, death, but also of rebirth, renewal, second chances. And about children being rescued in dreams.”
A sigh went about the room.
“Then we continued our journey into Way Down. It was barely daylight when we perched on the bench in front of the courthouse before going home. I was telling the little one about the people in the town and how much she was going to like them, when suddenly there was a terrific crash, and I woke up with a cry, in my own bed!
“It so happened that the milkman was running late that morning, and in his haste he had dropped a quart of milk on the walkway directly beneath my window. Crash! And I had been startled from sleep.
“In a panic I jumped out of bed and ran about my room, recalling the child. Where was she? Where was she? All I knew was that she was not with me any longer, and my heart broke in two. Should I run down to the courthouse just to see, you know . . . to see?”
It appeared that Miss Arbutus might start weeping with that sad memory of waking up alone.
“ ‘No!’ I told myself. ‘It’s no use. It’s hopeless. It was only a dream. Only a dream. There was no little girl, no treasure.’ I don’t mind saying the disappointment was almost more than I coul
d bear.
“I moved into the bitter morning like a sleepwalker, asking myself, ‘What now? What now?’
“But soon, as you all know, everybody in town was talking about the redheaded toddler found in front of the courthouse. And my heart went soaring again. I did not question how it had happened. It didn’t matter. It was true! It was true! My treasure was real!
“When I saw her in the doctor’s office that day, she held out her arms for me and cried, ‘Hossie! Hossie!’ ” Miss Arbutus chuckled. “But nobody seemed to notice, and the rest is history.
“Many nights I have gone into her room, just to watch her sleep and to wonder at the magic that brought her into my life. She has told me that a lady comes into her room at night, and she believes it to be her mother. I tell her, ‘Yes, I am sure it is your mother.’ ”
Miss Arbutus sat there with a dreamy expression on her face, apparently finished with her tale.
“What if . . .” Robber Bob spoke up. “What if the milkman had dropped that bottle and you had woke up while you were far away . . . in that holler maybe, or racing with the panther?”
“That’s right!” Mr. Shortt chimed in. “Then Ruby June woulda been left out in the woods by herself in the night.”
“I have considered that possibility myself,” Miss Arbutus said. “The only answer I can find is that the heart has a wisdom of its own.”
For a long time there was silence in the room. The people looked at each other, then back at Miss Arbutus.
“I understand . . .” came a whisper from close by. It was Mrs. Bevins. “I understand why you never told anybody before, but why are you telling us now, Miss Arbutus?”
“I wanted you to understand that she was meant to be with me. Y’all can see that, can’t you?”
The response was unanimous.
“Definitely.”
“Certainly.”
“Absolutely.”
“If Judge Deel were here this week, I would ask him for help. But even without his advice, I can see the necessity of taking Ruby’s case before the Virginia judge again. And when I’m in court, I will have to swear to tell the whole truth.”
“We’ll stand by you, Miss Arbutus.”
“We’ll vouch for your character.”
“And the way you’ve brought the girl up to be so fine.”
Miss Arbutus was touched.
Again, nobody spoke for a long time. The people could not get enough of staring at Arbutus Ward, whom they felt they were seeing for the first time. Rita continued to play with the long, dark hair. The woman and child smiled tenderly at each other, as if communicating secretly.
Presently soft weeping could be heard, and all eyes went to Mr. Crawford. Somebody handed him a handkerchief, and he mumbled, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I see now.”
“See what?” Mr. Morgan asked.
“That your true mother is the one who loves you and cares for you.”
The people mumbled in agreement.
“I understand something, too.” Mr. Farmer spoke up. “I have been drowning in my memories . . . of the war.”
Mrs. Farmer reached out and took her husband’s hand in hers.
“But now I see how lucky I am to be here . . . now.”
Detective Holland looked around the room at the expressions on the people’s faces. He did not ask a single question. And he never would.
31
RUBY JO! RUBY JO!”
Ruby stopped dead in her tracks and turned slowly. She was startled at the sight of a woman in a white nightgown moving through the woods, calling for her, and a vague memory passed through her mind.
Miss Arbutus in her long white nightgown in these woods. She and Miss Arbutus running in the moonlight!
But no . . . it was not Miss Arbutus. It was Grandma. Ruby set the suitcase down and waited.
Grandma waved something in one hand. “Ruby Jo! I’ve brought the picture for you. You can have it back!”
Ruby was too surprised to respond. Goldie Combs approached and handed the photo to her.
“Jo . . . lene,” Grandma gasped, slipping back into her old habit.
“I am not Jolene. I am Ruby,” Ruby said with resolve. “My mother gave me that name because it was her favorite.”
Grandma was struggling to breathe.
“Here, sit on my suitcase and rest,” Ruby said.
Grandma sat down, picked up the tail of her nightgown, and wiped her face with it.
“How do you know . . .” she managed to say, then paused to suck in air, “about her favorite name?”
“It was one of the first things I read on the wall,” Ruby explained.
“That’s why I went into your room today,” Grandma said. “To see if I could read some of it.”
“And could you?”
“I can’t read!” Grandma cried out, as if she were in pain.
Ruby was alarmed at the anguish in her grandma’s voice. “You mean . . . do you mean the glasses don’t help?”
“No! The glasses work, but I never learned to read or cipher properly. My mother kept me out of school.”
Ruby was speechless. Grandma could not read? She did not know anybody over six who could not read. It was like saying you couldn’t breathe or eat or drink water.
“Oh, I can make out some words . . . but . . . I was only a girl, you see. Girls were not important back then. They didn’t get much learning.”
Grandma seemed like a whipped thing, too beaten to fight anymore. They were quiet for a long time. Finally Grandma’s breathing came evenly.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” Ruby said gently as she grasped the woman’s elbow.
The two of them hiked back up the path through the woods.
“Ruby was the name she gave that calf one time,” Grandma said. “She loved that calf.”
“I like my name,” Ruby said.
“I can call you Ruby Jo, if that’s what you want.”
“Yes, it is.”
The woods were very dark by then, but Ruby could see the sky ahead where it stretched out wide and deeply turquoise over the top of the mountain.
“And you’ll not leave?” Grandma said.
“I can wait until morning.”
But Grandma was full of surprises this night. “I want to go with you,” she said.
“What?”
“Yes, I’ve thought and thought about it, ever since you started telling me about Way Down and The Roost and all the people living there. It makes me want to be a better person.”
“You want to live at The Roost?”
“Yes, I’ve never wanted anything so bad. I didn’t know there was such a place.”
“But, Grandma, it costs money to live there. Miss Arbutus can’t afford another charity tenant.”
“You said it was two dollars and fifty cents a day!” Grandma said brightly, hopefully. “I can afford that. Chris pays me every week, partly in groceries and partly in cash. I helped him buy the store. If I was eating at The Roost, he would have to give me all cash. And another thing—your grandpa worked for the railroad. So I am able to draw his pension, and Social Security, too, thanks to Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
Ruby’s mind went flying. Sure, Grandma probably had more than enough. It was indeed one solution. It was a way in which she could go back and live with Miss Arbutus without a court battle.
“Actually, the permanent residents get a break,” Ruby conceded. “They pay only two dollars a day.”
“There! See! I can afford that easy.”
But Grandma at The Roost? Would it work?
“The Roost is not a nursing home,” Ruby said.
“I know.”
“Nobody is going to serve your meals in bed.”
“I know that! I want to take my meals around that big oak table with the other people. I can picture it in my head.” Then after a brief hesitation, she added, “I’m not sick, Jolene . . . I mean Ruby Jo.”
“You’re not sick?”
“No, I’m just ma
d. I’ve been mad for so long, I’ve nearabout forgot how to be not mad.”
“Well, it’s not very nice pretending to be sick, and having people wait on you!” Ruby snapped.
“No, it’s not!” her grandma agreed. “I ain’t been nice.”
They stepped up on the porch, where the front door was standing wide open. They went inside and Grandma sat down heavily in a kitchen chair.
“I was born to pretty decent folks over on Bull Mountain,” she said. “But my daddy died when I was ten. That was the first time my heart broke in two. Then Mama died, when I was still a teenager.
“When I was old enough to court, the boy I loved married somebody else, and I had to settle for your grandpa. He brought me over here to live. So I just traded one mountaintop for another. And working for the railroad, he was gone most all the time. Seems like I was isolated from people my whole life.
“When I was just getting to like my husband, he died, too. Then Chris married Max and left me. Next Jolene run away and got married, and I was all alone on this mountain, with no way of ever getting off.
“Yeah, I was mad at the world. I had spent my whole life taking care of my family, cooking for them, waiting on them, cleaning up their messes. And what happens? I’m left all alone.
“When they were having money troubles, Chris brought his wife and six children here to live with me, and I was glad to have them. But you know what they did then? They both got jobs down in the valley. They went off to work every day and I was stuck with taking care of their kids. Then Jolene died and you came to me. I never did appreciate you ’cause you were just one more person to take care of. So when you disappeared, I felt awful guilty.
“When Chris and Max took their kids and moved out, I didn’t think I could take the loneliness. I wanted to hit somebody, hurt somebody. Instead I played sick so Chris would have to come back and take care of me like I had took care of everybody all my life. I didn’t count on him sending strangers to tend my needs. So I got madder and madder and meaner and meaner.
“But now, Ruby Jo, having you here with me, it’s been like having Jolene with me again. And I realized how much I loved her, and missed her. I want to be with you, Ruby Jo—I want to spend time with my granddaughter. I wouldn’t have to be mad or mean no more. I might even be happy in a place like Way Down.”