In the Midst of Innocence

by Deborah Hining

  Daddy went over to help with the hog killing, but Jasper said he was not very much help. Daddy is tenderhearted toward animals, and he tends to look the other way whenever blood is spilled. Of course, Uncle Woodrow takes off for the woods when he even thinks there might be a killing going on. I am pretty sure that Pap-pa thinks Mama married into a family full of lady-men who do not have the gumption to do what-all needs to be done on a farm. He does not say anything, but I see how he looks at Daddy and Uncle Woodrow sometimes when they go pale and look the other way. I am glad I have a little stronger gut, but I wish it were stronger still. I want Pap-pa to be proud of me, even if he cannot be proud of Daddy.

  We had a good time with Darlene and her mama today, as we always do, and Uncle Woodrow slipped back home to spend some time with us. It feels good, having Darlene and her mama in our house, helping Mama cook and clean. Uncle Woodrow is sweet, too. We are all family. We love each other so much!

  I sold Jake Hatton another full pint of whiskey this evening. I made him pay me before I gave it to him. I have learned how to handle him, although I do not think I will ever get that 50c that he owes me. The last time I reminded him about it, he acted as if he did not even remember drinking my whiskey. He said he is not sure it was to him that I sold that whiskey. As if there could be anybody else! I know the difference between Jake Hatton and my pap-pa.

  December 5, 1931

  Dearest Cecilia,

  It is cold, perhaps as cold as what you are experiencing, although it is not as dark. The daylight lingers a little longer here. I do not mind admitting to you that I am lonely. The Reverend and Mrs. Miller try to be good company, but the long evenings are tedious and somewhat sad because it is clear that the Reverend is not going to recover his health any time soon. I long for music in the parlor and the laughter of our friends. The people here are kind, but I am always aware that I am an outsider.

  I read a lot to while away the time, and I find I am sleeping more than usual, and dreaming strange and beautiful dreams. One dream has been reoccurring for some weeks now—I dream that I am wrapped in the blue and white rag rug that lies in the Miller’s parlor. It engulfs me entirely, so that I can hardly breathe, but rather than feeling suffocated or trapped, I feel free and blissfully euphoric. The rug lifts off the floor, like a magic carpet, sweeping me up high over the mountains, where I drift, watching the beautiful landscapes below me, the bright stars above me. When I wake, I am smiling, and feeling as if a beautiful future lies before me! Even writing about it makes me long to curl up in bed and go to sleep, so I will end this letter and turn off the light.

  Good night, sweet Cecilia!

  Emily

  December 5, 1931. Many things happened today. I got up before daylight with Jasper and Sardius because we wanted to go fishing. This is Daddy’s last Saturday before he leaves to be a bull for the Railroad, and we are going to surprise him with a big feast for supper. It is cold, so I put on a pair of long johns and some old trousers. I did not dream that I would see Miss Weston today!

  We started down to the river, and we could see Mrs. Carlton through the kitchen window. We pecked on it instead of going to the door because Billy Ray is at home, and I did not want to see him. When she let us in, she had a big, bloody sore on her head just above her ear. I asked her about it, but she just said she was glad we were here, and she thought it was a good idea if Darlene went fishing with us.

  Once we got out the door, I asked Darlene about the sore on her mama’s head, and Darlene made a face like she was about to cry, and she pulled at her hair. After a minute, she said, “That Billy Ray is the meanest S.O.B. that ever walked. I’m going to kill him one day.”

  She would not tell me much more, but I got the gist of it. Billy Ray had bashed Mrs. Carlton’s head against the stove and split it open. He is a mean S.O.B., and I do not care who hears me say it. I tried to take her mind off it, and we had a pretty good time fishing, even though we all were mad at Billy Ray. At least we caught a good mess of trout by the time the sun was full up, and we gave Darlene six big ones to take home for their dinner. That might sweeten up Billy Ray some.

  Jasper and Sardius went on home, but Darlene begged me to stay awhile, so I did. We sat up on the roof in the cold and watched the river until I got to shivering and decided to come on home.

  When I got there, Beryl met me in the yard, breathless, telling me that Miss Weston was visiting at the house. She had been hiding out, waiting on me so I would not be scundered to death, walking into the house and right into Miss Weston. I was very grateful to her to go to the trouble, because here I was, wearing trousers, with short hair, no doubt looking just like a BOY! Miss Weston would be very disappointed in me, for sure. We did the only thing we could think to do. We climbed in the bedroom window, into Mama and Daddy’s room, and I rooted around in the closet until I found a skirt that did not look too bad. It hung off me, but we found some pins in her sewing chest and Beryl helped me to pin it up some. I was ascared to death and shaking by the time we climbed back out of the window and came around to the front door.

  Mama looked at me funny when I came in, but she did not say anything. Mama, Daddy, Jasper, Sardius, and Miss Weston were all sitting in the living room drinking coffee, and Miss Weston held Sapphire on her lap. Ruby looked as if she was not paying any attention, but when I came in, she said, “Pearl’s wearing the wrong clothes!” I just about died before Miss Weston smiled at me. She did not say a word about me wearing a skirt pinned together and nearly dragging on the ground.

  “Hello, Pearl,” she said, as nice as could be. “I dropped by for a visit with your folks and to see your new baby sister,” and that was all there was to it. I sat down, and we had the nicest visit about school and how well Sardius and I are doing. Daddy was the very picture of politeness, and he sat still right there in the living room the whole time.

  December 5, 1931

  Dear Jonathan,

  Thank you for your kind efforts on behalf of my students! I have talked to the Wallace family, and they were quite agreeable that their sons might continue their education in Chicago rather than stay here in East Tennessee to work on the family farm, provided they are able to earn scholarships for their room, board, and tuition. I have not yet told them that you are looking for sponsors for them. It will be delicate, getting them to agree to accept anything they might consider “charity.”

  Their eldest daughter, Pearl, also is very bright—she may be the brightest of the lot, and although she is only going on 11 years old, she will most certainly be ready for high school at the end of next year. I think it would be best if we could find a family to host her for at least the first year or two. A boarding school might overwhelm her at such a tender age. Once I can convince the family to allow their sons to accept assistance, I will begin to work on them for Pearl’s sake. I do not think it would be amiss to tell the family who hosts her that she is available for light housework in return for her room and board. It will sit better with the family if they know Pearl will be earning her keep.

  I never thought that having a well-connected friend such as you could be so beneficial to my life as a missionary. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you going to the trouble to seek out the help of so many important people. Thank you, Jonathan! I pray daily for your health and happiness.

  Your friend,

  Emily Weston

  December 6, 1931. Miss Weston preached from the Book of Esther today. It was about how we all have a Destiny. We may not know what that Destiny will be, but at some point in our lives, we will be called upon to do something important. We might not even know we are fulfilling our Destiny when we do it. We may just be living our ordinary lives, but sometimes we might do something as simple and easy as encourage someone, and that may end up being a great thing. I like the idea of having a Destiny. I am going to try hard to find mine. This also is a good thing to write in my Journal that I turn in tomorrow.

  Today is Daddy’s last day before he goes off to be a bull fo
r the railroad tomorrow. We had a nice time at Pap-pa’s house for dinner. Pap-pa got out his fiddle and played for us, and Miss Janey Jo made us all get up and dance a reel, even Mama. Although she is still very skinny, she has gotten a lot stronger since she was out all night looking for Sapphire, and she danced for a long time before she got too breathless to stay up with the rest of us.

  It is a pity that Uncle Woodrow would not dance. I could tell Miss Weston wanted him to dance with her. She kept tapping her foot and looking over in his direction, but he did not look as if he saw her. After a while, he jumped up and went outside. I bet Uncle Woodrow would make a nice husband. I wonder if Miss Weston might be willing to marry him if he asked her?

  December 7, 1931

  Dear Cecilia,

  I am in a terrible quandary—again! The doctor has ordered that the Reverend Miller leave the cold climate for the duration of the winter. He says his heart is so fragile that he is afraid he will get pneumonia breathing the frigid air, and he does not want him to be tempted to bestir himself to help Mrs. Miller bring in wood or to shovel a path to the woodshed. This puts me in a terrible position, for if I stay here, I will be quite alone for the next 4 months! Mrs. Miller’s sister has offered to come stay a few days a week with me, but she has a family and that would be placing too much of an obligation on her shoulders.

  I do not feel unsafe being here alone. The Millers do not lock their doors, even when they go away overnight, and the people in the community are absolutely harmless. What worries me is that Father and Mother might find out that I am here alone. I have no doubt they will insist I come home immediately, and even petition the board to see that I lose my post here. I have considered asking The Reverend to refrain from letting anyone know—not the board nor anyone in the community, and certainly not Father. Do you think this is dishonest? I know I have already been less than honest with him by implying that someone else is preaching on Sundays. I am quite frantic. If I have to leave here in the middle of the school year, I will be devastated.

  Please counsel me, dear sister!

  Emily

  December 7, 1931

  My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class

  By Pearl Wallace

  God has given every one of us a destiny. Esther had a very important destiny to save her people from death and destruction, and she fulfilled her destiny very well by being courageous and smart. I hope I have an important destiny and that I will also be courageous and smart when the time comes to fulfill it.

  For now, my destiny is to help take care of my baby sisters, and to be nice to my friends and my family. I know it is my destiny to live here and to be a part of my family because I am so happy doing it. I love living on the Little Tennessee River. It is the most beautiful river in the world, and it flows right by my house, just like the River of Life flows by the Throne of God.

  December 7, 1931. Daddy left before daylight this morning to go to town with Mr. Sutton, the mailman. He did not wake us up to see him off, which made Beryl sad, but not me. I was having a good dream this morning about it being summertime and I was eating watermelon, and I felt so warm and good I would have hated to get out of bed just to watch him leave and then feel sad about it all the rest of the morning. Just getting up and having him gone makes it feel like any other day. We will see him on Saturday, anyway.

  Now that Daddy will be gone during the week, Darlene and her mother are going to come over every day after school so Darlene can look at my school books. I have most of what we need because Daddy bought books for Jasper when he was in the seventh grade, back when Daddy had enough money to buy such things. Mama and Mrs. Carlton also are teaching us to speak French, and we have already learned a lot!

  When we got home from school this afternoon, they were already at the house. Even though Mrs. Carlton’s head still has that big old sore, we all were in such fine spirits that she did not even care. Uncle Woodrow brought in a whole load of wood for us, and he got the stove to roaring. It got so hot in the kitchen that we moved into the front room for a while, then we young’uns went out to the barn to play with the baby chicks.

  Uncle Woodrow told Mama not to bestir herself to make supper, that we could just have cold cornbread and buttermilk, and Mrs. Carlton said she had some apple pie at her place she could go get. Uncle Woodrow left out also to go put on a clean shirt, but the funny thing is, when he came back, he had on the same shirt! He had plumb forgotten to change it. He slapped at his forehead and carried on about how forgetful he has become that he made us laugh until our sides ached. Thinking back, though, it troubles me a little that he could be so forgetful. I wonder if the shell shock is doing that to him?

  We had so much fun that we forgot we were supposed to start our lessons together. We put a quilt on the floor in the living room in front of the fireplace and pretended to have a picnic for dinner, then we played Charades.

  December 8, 1931. We are doing fine without Daddy. Uncle Woodrow is staying here until we get used to having him gone. Last night he slept in the barn loft, but tonight he disappeared again, which he is wont to do sometimes. I worry about him being out in the cold night, and this night was wet, as well, but Mama said he knew how to take care of himself and not to worry.

  Darlene came over and stayed for supper, and then we played Shadow Buff until Ruby got so sleepy she fell asleep on the couch. Mama said Darlene should just stay here for the night because the rain was so cold. Jasper offered to run over and tell Mrs. Carlton, but it turns out that Mama had already mentioned that Darlene might stay so that Mrs. Carlton would not be worried.

  I have decided I am not going to worry about getting caught for selling whiskey. Al Capone killed people and did a lot of other bad things, and the law was out to get him for all his meanness. I figure that if they catch me, I will pretend I did not know running whiskey was against the law, and I do not mind pointing the finger at Jake Hatton as my customer, although I would never tattle on Pap-pa. I will make out as if Jake Hatton made me think it was all right and I do not know any better, being just a little girl.

  December 9, 1931. I think Mama misses Daddy, although I do not know why. Sometimes I find her just sitting and looking out the window, like she is expecting him to come up the front steps, and she ups and says something nice about him when we are talking about something completely different. It is a mystery to me why she likes him so much. He is not much help to her even when he is here. She is better off with just Sardius, Jasper and Uncle Woodrow, who are always helpful and kind to her. You never know when Daddy is going to be helpful and kind and when he is going to come home drunk and mean. I do not like the feeling we all get when Daddy slips out to the woodshed. We do not know if he is going to have just a sip and come back feeling happy, or if he is going to come back to the house cussing and carrying on. Sometimes I wish he would just stay away all the time so we would not have to put up with the strain of not knowing how he will be.

  The little girls have gone to bed, and the rest of us are just sitting around the stove, talking. Mama is sewing, as she always does of an evening, while I write this. Jasper and Sardius are teaching Darlen how to make a cat’s cradle. I do not know where Uncle Woodrow is off to.

  I love summertime, but winters can be nice, too, because there is not that much to do except stay by the warm stove, play games, and talk.

  December 10, 1931. I love being out in the barn these days. Little chicks are the most fun things to play with! Darlene, Beryl, Ruby, and I played out there all afternoon before supper. Uncle Woodrow, Jasper and Sardius were up in the loft raking up some loose hay, and then Jasper and Sardius came down and chased us girls all over the barn. Uncle Woodrow sat up in the loft, his long legs dangling over, looking down on us and laughing fit to be tied.

  Mama and Mrs. Carlton cooked up a big supper with biscuits, fried ham, and green beans, and when Mrs. Carlton came out to the barn to call us in, we were ready for it! She looked about as pretty as I have ever seen her. She had on a yellow and re
d flowery dress with a wide belt that made her waist look small. Her long hair hung down her back in beautiful waves. The front of it was pinned up on top of her head, so that it covered up the sore, and she looked just like an angel. She reached out to ruffle up Ruby’s hair, and said, “Ruby, you look like you could use some of my special butternut cake. You all go on in and have your supper, and I am going to run over to my house and get it. I just have to put the icing on it, and I will have it back over here in time for dessert.”

  Well, supper was delicious, and it was a good thing Mrs. Carlton was late coming back with that cake. We were so stuffed, we barely were able to make room for it. It is too bad Uncle Woodrow did not join us for supper. He sure missed a good one!

  Cold, waning days, frozen nights.

  Desire fills the air, softening the bitter nights.

  My children drown in passion.

  Some are fulfilled;

  Some drink deep of possibility.

  The upright father is filled with pride,

  The mother with hope.

  The children slumber in their innocence,

  But the in-between one aches with loss.

  I murmur softly to them all

  As the Spirit mourns for those who embrace their rage.

  December 11, 1931. At school today, we learned about entrepreneurship. Henry Ford and John D. Rockefeller are entrepreneurs. Miss Weston says that it is entrepreneurs who will pull this country out of the Depression, but Daddy says that the Rockefellers and the Fords are the cause of it, that they built their own riches on the backs of the working man.