I am praying for my father to live and to be well. I know he is saved, so if he dies, I am not in fear for his soul. But I do not want him to die.
April 27, 1932. Mama sent Beryl and me to school, but Sardius stayed home to help get the sweet potatoes in. When I got home today, I went in to see Daddy. I stared at him a long time before I reached out to touch his cheek, and he woke up. At first, he looked at me like he did not know me. Then his eyes lit up and he tried to reach out to me, although his hand would not move. He gave out a long cry, like he was trying to tell me something important, but I could not make any sense of it.
Mama came in with some soup so I could feed him. Jasper helped to drag him up on the pillows a little bit, and then I spooned some soup into his mouth, but most if it dribbled out and down his chin. My heart is breaking because my Daddy might die. I hope he knows I love him, even though I have been mad at him for most of my life.
April 27, 1932
Dear Jonathan,
I was happy to get your letter today. I know I have been remiss in writing you, but it has been a very hard time for us all here. I have told you about the Wallace family. The father, Richard, has been injured very badly and may not live. Their neighbor’s home has been burned to the ground, and the owner, Billy Ray Carlton, died in the fire. We have a mother and child homeless and fatherless, and another family on the brink of being fatherless. I feel worthless and helpless to do anything.
Jonathan, I realize now that I have no place here. I do not belong here. In my arrogance, I inserted myself into this place, into the lives of these self-sufficient and good people, thinking I could civilize and instruct them. I was so wrong! They were gracious to accept me, but they have always stood apart from me—they have no need or desire for anything I can do for them.
I am ashamed to think how my pride has come between you and me. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I have repaid you with my foolish snobbery. Please forgive me for treating you so badly. I hope you do not hold my deplorable behavior against me.
Sincerely,
Emily
Warm, waxing days, greening earth
Hope lies in shards.
Love struggles through pain.
My upright ones suffer with broken hearts and broken bodies.
I wait, tasting the grief and the yearning.
April 28, 1932. I feel bad going to school when Sardius cannot because of the planting. Jasper has not been studying for his exams, either, and Mama goes out to the fields to work in between taking care of Daddy and Sapphire. Mrs. Carlton is a big help, but she is trying to plant her own garden.
April 29, 1932. Miss Weston is worried about Sardius missing so much school. She brought Beryl and me home in her automobile so she could go over his lessons with him. When we got home, everyone was still out in the field. Uncle Woodrow had gone to help Pap-pa, so it was just Sardius, Jasper, and Mama. Mama had tied Sapphire up to the apple tree so she could not get into anything while Ruby tended to her. Mama is particular about her babies and she always makes sure they are tied up good and proper to keep them from scooching away.
Ruby had gotten into a mud puddle, and of course, had completely forgotten about taking care of Sapphire. Her dress was just covered with mud. Thank goodness she was barefooted, or she would have soaked her shoes. When we got to them, Sapphire had a big fistful of dirt she was putting in her mouth. We were too late to stop her, so I had to try to rake it out as best as I could. She eats dirt every chance she gets, and it is a constant trial to Mama. I was mad at Ruby for not tending to her, but Ruby looked so sweet, looking up at me through all the mud on her face, her big, blue eyes just shining, that I could not bless her out.
Mama and Jasper came over when they saw us. They were so tired, they could hardly stand, and they were ragged and dirty, too. Mama’s hair stuck to her head from all the sweat, and Jasper looked as if he needed to be propped up. I felt just terrible, knowing that I had not been here to help them. I might not be worth much in the fields, but I could at least have tended to Ruby and Sapphire, and I could take care of Daddy, also.
Beside them, Miss Weston looked like she had stepped out of the catalogue. She had on a pure white blouse, a soft gray skirt, and a wide belt that cinched her waist in so pretty. She had on her lavender hat with the netting that came down over her face, and her shoes were shining and clean. I wanted to tell her not to step out into the field so as not to get them dirty, but before I could, she swooped over to pick up Sapphire, and got dirt all over her blouse and skirt.
Mama about died. She reached for Sapphire, but Miss Weston pulled the baby away, saying, “Mrs. Wallace, please let me help. I have done nothing all day but be in the classroom with your precious children while you have been laboring in the fields. Why don’t you let me take these babies into the house and get them cleaned up for you?”
Tears came into Mama’s eyes. She was both scundered and grateful. Then tears came into Miss Weston’s eyes, and she suddenly turned to Beryl and me and said, “Come, girls. Let us go start some supper for your family. They have been working hard today, and we need to give them a little rest.” Then she marched to the house, followed by Mama. Mama would have told her she did not need help, but by the time she got to the house, she could barely drag her feet across the threshold. She sank into a chair in the kitchen, and said, “I am beholden to you, Miss Weston.”
Miss Weston gave Mama some water, then called Jasper in. About that time Uncle Woodrow and Sardius came home, and they both looked as worn out as Mama and Jasper did, although they were a little cleaner by the time we saw them because they had stopped at the well and washed some.
Miss Weston was so nice. She tied an apron around her waist, fried up some fatback, made biscuits, and cooked some wild burdock that Uncle Woodrow and Sardius had picked on their way to the house. The evening might have been nice, except that we all knew Daddy was lying in the room right next to us, maybe not long for this world.
May
May 1, 1932. Mama sent us young’uns to church today, but she had to stay home because she is afraid to leave Daddy for very long. Preacher Miller is better now, and back in town, so he has taken over preaching again. He gave a pretty good sermon, but it was not half as good as Miss Weston’s. She always makes the Bible make sense, and makes it come to life. Preacher Miller talks about things I do not always understand.
We did not go to Pap-pa’s house for dinner, but they came over here with food so we would not have to cook. Mrs. Carlton and Darlene came with them. It is hard for them to get over here every day, but they do manage it most days. Mrs. Carlton has taken her goats over to Pap-pa’s and she and Miss Janey Jo bring milk over to Sapphire nearly every day. They cook enough dinner to last us through supper and breakfast so Mama does not have to do anything but take care of Daddy and help out in the field when he sleeps.
Uncle Woodrow is still very shaky, but he acts a little better. It seems that he is trying very hard to be strong. At dinner, when we were saying the blessing, he held Mrs. Carlton’s and Darlene’s hands, and he takes pains to take care of Daddy when he can. He also is working very hard in the fields.
Daddy is doing a little better. He can move his hands and legs, and he can swallow food if somebody feeds him, but he cannot move his arms. One is too broken up and the other just will not move. The whole side of his body is all twisted up. He cannot speak, either, but sometimes when he sees us, he will cry out the most awful sounds and try to move toward us. Mama says we can cuddle up with him for a little while, but when we do, he cries and makes those sounds again, and water runs out of his eyes. It is hard to look at him when he is this way.
May 2, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
My father has an automobile, although with the Depression on, it is hard to find parts to keep it running. We all used to pile into the back (it is a truck with an open bed), and Daddy would careen up those mountain roads just as fast
as it would go. There is a place over by Big Gully that has a little hill, then a dip, and when he goes over that fast, we all fly up in the air, and we have to hang on tight to keep from falling out! It is a great deal of fun to go over the Big Gully hill fast, and we always beg him to go as fast as he can so we can go aflying. When we come down again, it feels as if our stomachs have stayed up for a second or two. It is a wonderful feeling.
Daddy is stove up right now, so I guess we will not be going over the hill at Big Gully for a while yet. I wish we could. Back when we were doing it, I never thought that there would come a time when Daddy could not drive. I wish I had paid more attention to how fun it was then.
May 3, 1932. Mama made all of us go to school. She says we are done planting sweet potatoes but that we will start planting corn with the new moon this week, and she wants us all to get our lessons to bring home so we can work on them in between planting. She wants to put in an extra large crop of corn this year. This did not make sense to us at first because it is pretty clear that Daddy will not be stealing any to make whiskey, so we probably can get by with planting less. When Jasper questioned her about it, though, she said she plans to make cornbread and sell it down at the highway. I have never heard of anybody wanting to buy cornbread, but Mama knows more about that than we do.
May 4, 1932. Miss Weston is working us hard. She does not even let us take a recess, and she makes us work while we eat our dinner. She says I do not have to turn in my Journals for the rest of the year, which is a big relief. I cannot think up good things to write, that sound like my life is normal, anyway.
Mama makes us work on our lessons from the time we get home from school until now, and it is nearly 10 o’clock.
May 5, 1932. It is the new moon, so we planted corn all day. After supper, Mama made all of us study, even Jasper. I am so tired I cannot hardly move. Mama looks wrung out, but she smiles at us when she looks at us.
Old Al Capone went to prison yesterday. I feel the smallest bit sorry for him. I know how easy it is to get lured into a life of crime. Since Daddy is too sick to drink his whiskey, I am selling all I can. I sold Jake Hatton a whole quart yesterday, and I reckon I will sell it until it is all gone. With Daddy not working, we sure will need the money. I am glad I still have my hair money underneath the floorboards in the living room.
May 6, 1932. Something good happened today, but at the same time, it is not good. Hank Delany was arrested for setting fire to Billy Ray’s house, and there may be other arrests. Mama, Uncle Woodrow, and Mrs. Carlton are very worried about that. If this goes to trial, I will be called to testify since I am the main witness. Jasper will be called as well, and so will Darlene. If a jury gets a good look at Darlene, things may not go well.
Daddy cries every time one of us goes into his room. Beryl sang to him today, and he let out such a wail that it scared her and she quit. Then he cried even louder so she had to start up again.
I do not know what we are going to do. I do not think that Daddy is ever going to get better. If he cannot work, we will go back to trying to scratch out a living from this farm. That means Jasper and Sardius will not be able to go to that fancy boarding school in Chicago.
May 7, 1932
My dearest sister,
I have spent the last week reflecting on my sins and my ambitions, and I have come to realize that I should have accepted Jonathan’s offer of marriage last fall when he made it. At that time, I was so infatuated with this place and with the idea that I was going to improve the lives of my students and their parents that I rejected him out of hand. Now I am reflecting on what a good man he is and always has been, and I so wish I could take back my cruelty to him. He has suffered through my manipulations, my scorn, my inability to see his goodness. I am not even sure I have properly thanked him for sending all those supplies and money to help me. What kind of woman treats such a loving man that way?
Do not tell him I have made these confessions to you, and do not tell Mother and Father, either. I have to deal with the heartache brought on by my own arrogance all by myself. Thank you for at least letting me share my shame with you. You are a good sister, and I love you.
Emily
May 7, 1932. Miss Weston showed up early this morning, just as we were going out to the cornfield. Mama called us back in and set us down at the kitchen table. Miss Weston looked very pretty and fresh next to Mama, who is so worn out you can almost see through her. Her hair is flat and dingy, and even though she smiles a lot, there is no sunshine in it. It is as if she is just stretching her lips out away from her teeth while her eyes look like the eyes of a trapped animal. We all see it, but no one says anything.
Miss Weston folded her hands on top of the table and said, “Jasper, your mother tells me you could pass the final exams for the tenth grade. I want you to come to school with the others next week and take those exams. I expect you to be going to Chicago with your brother next month and begin your studies.”
We all were flabbergasted. There is no way Mama can do without Sardius and Jasper with Daddy laid up so bad. Both boys shook their heads.
“No, Ma’am,” said Jasper. “Sardius can go, but Mama needs me here to tend to the crops this summer. I am going to run the farm from here on out.”
“Me, too,” said Sardius. “I want to be a farmer. I have made up my mind.”
Mama laid her hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “No, honey. Both of you are going to go to Chicago with Miss Weston. I am confident you will do very well on your exams. You do not need to be worrying about me or your Daddy or this farm. We will make do.”
“But Mama!” they both said at once.
She held up her hand. “I am not arguing about this. It is settled, and that is that.” And then she poured Miss Weston a cup of coffee and started talking about the weather, as if she did not know that we had sacks and sacks of corn waiting to be planted, Daddy was lying helpless in the bedroom, and she had a family to feed and no way to feed them. I could not help but to speak up.
“Mama, your hair money won’t go that far, and…”
She cut me off. “Pearl, you will not contradict me. Now, Uncle Woodrow and your pap-pa are already out in the field, and they are expecting you to help them. Go,” and she shooed us out the door. I think Mama has taken leave of her senses.
May 8, 1932. We planted all day today, so we missed church, but we left off for dinner. Miss Janey Jo, Mrs. Carlton, Pap-pa, and Darlene came over with food. It would have been a nice time, but we are still all so sad about Daddy and so tired from working that we did not have it in us to do more than eat before we went back out to plant more corn. We have 6 acres planted already. I do not understand Mama. Not only do we have to plant all day on a Sunday, but she makes us keep up with our lessons. We all are about to drop in our tracks.
May 8, 1032
My dear Jonathan,
How I wish you could be here with me today, to see the glories of this beautiful spring day! I would take you walking along the river so you could see the otters frolicking amid the spray, the bluebirds feeding their young in the hollow trees, and the white clouds foaming above our heads, flirting with the sun. It would be magnificient to talk to you, to show you all the secret, delightful places I have discovered during my time here, and if I may be so bold to say, talk about my feelings for you. It has taken me a long time to understand how much you mean to me, and now I hope to make up for it. I had to be dashed upon the shoals to clear my head and realize how perfect you are. I should thank my mother for having seen it so much sooner than I did.
I will be home in less than three weeks! I can hardly wait! I do hope you will receive me with kindness.
With fondest regards,
Emily
May 9, 1932. Miss Weston is giving us the rest of our Spring break this week. We are taking the whole week off, even though we really have only 3 days left on it, but she says we will go a little later in the year to make up for it.
We started out planting early, but then somebody from th
e court came by to talk to me. Mama kept him in the house for a long time before she sent Ruby out to fetch me. I reckoned she wanted to make sure he was on the right side before she let him ask me any questions. As soon as I came in, she sent Uncle Woodrow over to Pap-pa’s house to fetch Darlene and Mrs. Carlton. He took the wagon and was back again in under an hour with them. Mrs. Carlton had a cooked goose with her, which we were mighty glad to see.
By the time they got here, I had already told the fellow my side of the story. He asked Darlene the same questions as he asked me, and she backed me up right down the line. Mrs. Carlton put in her two cents. We all agreed as to exactly what happened. Then Mama called Jasper in, who told what he saw, and that was about all there was to it.
After the man left, I got to thinking. Hank Delany might could get the electric chair for killing Billy Ray Carlton. That set me back on my heels. Hank is a mean S.O.B., but we all know good and well he had nothing to do with Billy Ray’s death. The more I thought about it, the more it made me realize that it would be a terrible sin to let an innocent man die for something he did not do. I was just poking a hole in the ground to put in a piece of corn when it hit me about what we might be guilty of, and all of a sudden, it felt like the whole earth started to shake. My knees gave way, and I just started to sob, and I could not stop myself. I laid down in the dirt and cried and cried. Mama came running to me and gathered me up in her arms, but I still could not stop. Finally, Uncle Woodrow came, picked me up, carried me back to the house, and laid me on the couch.
After Mama brought me water and held me for the longest time, I was finally able to get ahold of myself enough to explain that I was ascared we might cause an innocent man to go to the electric chair! It scared me to death to think about it. Jesus would never in all eternity let us get by with that, and even if He did, I do not think I could let myself get by with it. I do not want Uncle Woodrow to go to the electric chair, either, and I just do not know what we could do about it.
In the Midst of Innocence Page 27