by Donis Casey
“Your sister that married?”
He glanced at Alafair out of the corner of his eye. His ears reddened. “Ma tell you that? Well, she would. We don’t really know where Maggie Ellen went. She run off a couple of years ago, when she was sixteen. It was cotton time. Lots of itinerant pickers around, don’t you know.” He blushed furiously. “I blame Daddy. She was walking out with a fine boy, Dan Lang from Dasher’s machine shop, but Daddy was such a misery that he run Dan off for good. Maggie Ellen was heartbroke.”
“Yes, I heard that story. I heard your dad beat him with a hoe handle.”
John Lee glanced at her. “Well, then, you can see why Dan thought courting my sister wasn’t such a good idea. Can’t blame him. But Maggie Ellen had these big plans to marry and set up a home, and rescue the kids from Daddy. Losing Dan was a disappointment to her. She hated Daddy for it, I’m thinking. Took the first chance she had to get away for good.”
“Don’t worry, son,” Alafair soothed. “I don’t judge her at all.”
Alafair heard him swallow. “Poor Maggie Ellen. I hope she’s happy,” he murmured. “I think about her some. I’m always thinking that I see her here and there, in town sometimes, or even across the field when the sun’s going down. My aunt told me once that she heard Maggie Ellen was living with a bricklayer in Sand Springs. I was surprised she’d run off and not say anything. At least to Naomi. Her and Naomi was always close. Daddy didn’t seem to notice when she ran away. Ma cried a bit. She told me a while ago that she was hoping Maggie Ellen would come home now that Daddy wasn’t here to torment her.”
He blinked, then looked at Alafair again, coming back into the present. “But, Miz Tucker, I still can’t see how it could be Ma. When could she have done it? By the time I got back from your place, Daddy and the mule were gone. We all went about our business the rest of that evening, and I guarantee Daddy wasn’t curled up next to the house having no nap, not before we all went in for the night. We all slept in the parlor by the stove that night. Nobody went out that I saw. When we got up at cockcrow, there was six inches of snow, and still snowing. Daddy must have been laying there dead for hours.”
“The ground under the body was wet, according to my husband,” Alafair remembered. “Harley must have lain down there some little while after it started snowing. Now here’s the question, John Lee, that hasn’t been answered. Where did your daddy go when he got on that mule, drunk as a skunk, on Wednesday afternoon?”
“I figured he was making a run to the still. When I went out to the barn that night I noticed that his stash was low.”
Alafair’s eyebrows peaked with interest. “And where is this still?”
“He moves it around to fool the sheriff. It’s usually right near the creek, though. It’s pretty overgrowed down there.”
“Suppose we could find it later?”
“I expect. I never had no trouble finding it before. What do you think we might find, Miz Tucker? Something that could help us?”
“I don’t know, son. But we can’t account for the last eight or so hours of your father’s life, and I’m thinking that if there’s a chance of clearing your mother, and you, too, by the way, we’d better figure out what happened from the time you noticed him gone ’til the time your sister found him dead.”
They fell silent again, pondering the possibilities. Alafair clucked to the horse to hurry her up, excited about having a new tack to pursue.
Chapter Eleven
Naomi thought long and hard when Alafair invited her and her charges to take supper with them, but finally acquiesced. Not that she didn’t feel herself perfectly capable of handling the task, but she knew that the family would doubtlessly eat better at the Tuckers’.
Shaw didn’t bat an eye when Alafair showed up with seven extra mouths to feed. Martha, efficient as always, had already begun firing up the stove before Alafair had unloaded all the kids and gotten them inside. Mary and Alice jumped into the fray and helped part strange children from their winter wear. Alafair was pleased to see the ever-charming Gee Dub try to engage Naomi in the bantering excuse for conversation used by fifteen-year-old boys with thirteen-year-old girls. Naomi’s response was desultory at best, but such a thing had never been known to deter Gee Dub. Ruth did her gentle best to help her brother entertain the shy guests, showing them the upright piano in the corner and how to pick out some simple tunes. Blanche and Sophronia flitted around like excited birds, sharing dolls and toys, beside themselves with the new playmate potential.
“Where’s Phoebe?” Alafair asked Shaw.
“Charlie and her are milking tonight,” Shaw told her. “They’ll be in directly. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on, here?”
She drew him into the relative privacy of their bedroom and explained the situation to him as quickly as she could.
“I’m glad it wasn’t him,” Shaw confessed, “but the boy’s still got a pretty rough row to hoe, sounds to me.”
“He does, and he’s proud and slow to take help. So is Naomi. But I’m hoping we can be there if they need us.”
“I’ll offer to take him back into town this evening,” Shaw assured her, “see if I can get him to tell me if he’s made any plans yet, tell him we’ll do what we can to help.”
Shaw’s concern for the boy touched Alafair, and affection for him welled up in her. “I imagine he hasn’t had time to think of much, yet, since this has all come as such a surprise,” she said. “Maybe if he’ll talk to you on the trip to town it will get him to thinking. Now I’ve got to take our kids aside somehow and caution them before somebody asks John Lee why he isn’t in jail.”
“I already warned them not to ask questions when I saw you coming,” Shaw told her.
“That showed some foresight on your part, Shaw Tucker,” Alafair teased.
“I have been known to practice foresight in my time,” he replied.
As Shaw and Alafair stepped back into the parlor, Charlie and Phoebe were just coming in from the back porch, after pouring their new milk through cheesecloth to strain it into the big milk can. When Phoebe caught sight of John Lee, Alafair thought the girl might swoon. The look that passed between them was so fraught with emotion that Shaw tugged Alafair back into the bedroom.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Why, Shaw, you are showing rare insight today. I told you that Phoebe and John Lee are sweet on one another.”
“So I now see,” he blustered, half amused and half alarmed. “I did not realize how sweet.” He shot the young couple an appraising glance from the door. They were both involved with children and ignoring one another desperately. “Well, I don’t know about this,” he pronounced. “The boy has a shadow on him. Besides, she’s just seventeen.”
“I’ll point out to you that I was seventeen and you nineteen, when we fell for one another, same as those two yonder.”
Shaw looked startled. “I didn’t feel as young as they look,” he observed wistfully, then firmed. “Still, times are different, Alafair. Besides, I don’t really know this boy. And you’ll remember, that isn’t the best family, what with the pa a drunken, bootlegging wife-beater and the ma a murderer.”
Alafair put her hand on Shaw’s arm to calm him. “He’s a real nice boy,” she said. “I’ve talked to him, and I think Phoebe could do a lot worse. You spend some time with him and you’ll see.”
“He couldn’t possibly marry anybody while this mess is going on, and he ain’t got a nickel, nor is he like to. Taxes will take that farm as sure as I’m standing here, and they’ll end up with their kin. That’s not for Phoebe.”
“Now, now, I don’t expect he’d ask her to marry until he thought he could support her well. But I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulls it off in a few years, because he reminds me of you.”
Shaw looked over at her. “Me?” he managed.
“Well, he’s not as happy and light-hearted as you were, but I don’t expect his life has been as easy. But he’s a thoughtful boy, honorabl
e, and strives to do well. Best of all, he’s very tender to Phoebe, and protects her as best he can. I remember all those things about you being dear to me, and if they’re dear to Phoebe, I’m not surprised.”
Shaw had been studying John Lee critically while Alafair was talking, and now he looked back down at her. “How do you know all this about the boy?”
Alafair hesitated before answering. “I spoke to him at length as we drove home from town. He was respectful and straightforward, and looked me in the eye. He has fine eyes, Shaw.”
Two spots of color rose on Shaw’s already ruddy cheeks. “Well, I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve seen for myself,” he said, as sternly as he could manage. “But I’m not happy that it’s gone this far without that youngster declaring his intentions to me.”
“I don’t reckon they know themselves how far it’s gone. These things sneak up on you, sometimes.”
“Who’d have thought it would be Phoebe?” he asked with wonder. “Martha and Mary are grown women already and don’t seem to be in any haste.”
“Martha and Mary are formidable and proud, and it will take formidable men to woo them. Martha has already spurned a suitor and Mary just laughs that big old laugh of hers when a boy comes around. Alice is so pretty and gay that she’ll have her pick. But Phoebe is like a little violet, all shy and hidden, to whom sweet things just come.”
“Only a knight of old will be wooing Alice, or somebody else with a suit of armor on him,” Shaw joked. But though he was laughing, a sadness had settled in his eyes. The little girls weren’t little any more.
Alafair squeezed his arm, full of pity for him. Men never saw these things coming, and were liable to be blindsided. “I’d best be getting supper on the table now,” she said, and thus Shaw and Alafair departed into their own realms.
***
Martha had the stove properly banked and she and Mary were hauling down plates when Alafair came into the kitchen. Alafair dropped her apron over her head and tied the strings behind her back.
“What’s it to be, Ma?” Mary asked her.
“I doubt if those kids eat very good, so let’s do it up,” Alafair said. “Got no time to kill a hen, so let’s fry up some ham with gravy. Mary, I see you’ve already peeled some potatoes and chopped onions. Are you thinking of home fries? That’s good, then. Martha, warm up all the leftovers from dinner, and make two or three pans of cornbread. Remember, there’s seven extra of us tonight. I’ll open some more jars from the pantry.”
Sophronia and Frances Day came skidding into the kitchen, and Sophronia grabbed her mother’s skirt. “Mama, can you get me and Frances a glass of milk?”
“Are your arms broke?” Alafair asked, while hauling out her frying pans.
“No, ma’am,” Sophronia assured her.
“Well, then, you gals can go out on the back porch yourselves and draw off some milk in a couple of big pitchers for the table. Mary, get these girls some pitchers. Draw some buttermilk, too.”
“I don’t like buttermilk,” Frances informed her, as she and Sophronia skipped off toward Mary.
“It’ll make your hair curly,” Alafair said.
“I only made two apple pies, Ma. Shall I make a cobbler, or another pie?” Mary wondered.
Alafair pondered, then shook her head. “I’m near to out of canned fruit. I suppose we could whip up a couple of molasses pies. Alice is good at molasses pies. Where is Alice?”
“In the parlor torturing Phoebe, Ma,” Martha informed her cheerfully.
Alafair sniffed and headed toward the pantry. “Put out a jug of karo syrup and one of sorghum. Some may prefer to doctor their cornbread.” She swerved enough to stick her head into the parlor. “Phoebe and Alice, we need you in here.” She looked down at Naomi, who was sitting in an armchair with a toddler in her lap, and hesitated.
“I’m sorry about your mama, honey. This is a lot of responsibility to put on your young shoulders.”
Naomi blinked at her. “It’s all right,” she said at length. “I’m used to it.”
“I heard that you and your sister were close. I wish Maggie Ellen was still here to help you. You must miss her.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she acknowledged. “But she ain’t. Maggie Ellen told me that if she ever did get away, she’d come back and take the rest of us off with her. Never did, though.”
“Well, maybe now you can find her.”
Naomi shrugged. “I don’t reckon she’ll come back. I won’t come back, when I get me a place of my own.” She stood up. “I can help you with supper, Miz Tucker,” she said.
“You’re the guest, Naomi,” Alafair told her. “You take your ease. When we come over to your house, you can wait on us.”
Naomi’s mouth quirked slightly in an expression of irony, since the likelihood of the Tuckers coming to dinner at her house was nil, then sat back down.
“Shaw,” Alafair continued, “we’ll be needing some boards and sawhorses to extend the table, and something to sit on.”
Shaw was half out the door before she finished speaking. “Boys, come on,” he called. “You Day boys, too. I’m not so delicate a host as Miz Tucker.”
All the males tumbled out into the cold except for toddling, thumb-sucking Alfred Day and three-year-old Otis Day, and all the females were pressed into mess service except Naomi, Ruth and Blanche, whom Alafair set to keeping Alfred and Otis out from underfoot.
After supper, Alafair made use of all the extra hands to help with the cleanup and the evening chores, while Shaw went with John Lee into town to visit Mrs. Day in jail. Alafair packed a basket of comforts for them to take to Mrs. Day, though she was certain that Scott’s wife, Hattie, had already done the same. Alafair thought that the woman could use all the comfort she could get.
Alafair expected that Naomi would go into town with her brother, but when the time came, the girl demurred and set about scraping leftovers into the slop bucket. Alafair sat in a chair near the parlor door, as she usually did, and supervised the cleanup. She was interested to observe Naomi discreetly wrapping scraps of food in a napkin and slipping it into the pockets of her voluminous skirt. She quietly took Martha aside and had her pack up all the uneaten food for the Days to take home with them.
***
When the two men returned two hours later, Shaw drew Alafair out onto the porch. They sat down together on the porch swing while John Lee and Naomi roused their dozing siblings for the short trip home.
“You were sure right about the boy, Alafair,” Shaw said to her. “He seems like a good upright young fellow to me, though knowing his situation, I can’t see how that can be. Of course, you know as well as I that some people are ruined by trouble and others made strong and good by the same troubles.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Alafair told him. “When it looked like he killed his own daddy, I thought he was either the unluckiest good boy or the most cold-blooded bad boy I had ever met, and either way, I rued the day that Phoebe got mixed up with him.”
“Speaking of which,” Shaw said, “I’m still not thrilled with that situation. He’s got character, all right, and spine, but I’d be happier if he had a pot to pee in. And not so many responsibilities.”
Alafair shrugged. “You said you’d not let them marry right away. Now we’ll see how they endure and if they can plan for the future. Did you ask him about his intentions toward her?”
“I did, and I let him know I wasn’t happy with their sneaking around behind my back.”
“What did he say to that?”
“Like you thought. He said the situation was such that he couldn’t come calling plain, so it was snatch a moment as they could, or not see one another. I told him that if he regarded her he should have just not seen her rather than put her in peril. He said he knew it was wrong, but might as well say not to breathe, for he loves her.”
“Oh, Shaw!”
Shaw looked at her askance. “Oh, Shaw?” he repeated. “Why do you sound surprised? You’re the one told me, after all.
”
She had surprised herself with her exclamation. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It just shocked me to hear that he said it straight out like that. I was hoping that the kids didn’t know so plainly that they love one another, I guess.”
“Well, I think you’d better have a talk with Phoebe. We both know that if the fire is on them that there isn’t much we can do but ride herd on them as best we can. If he really loves her, he won’t do anything to dishonor her.”
Alafair nodded. “That sounds like the wise course to me. If we treat them like a proper betrothed couple, then they’ll be less inclined to do anything rash. I can’t see how he could be able to marry for years, and they may cool off by themselves if we don’t pressure them.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then they’ll marry when they’re ready. They may never be rich, but I think he’ll work hard. She could do worse.”
Shaw puffed out a laugh that hung for a fraction of a second like a white cloud in the frigid air. “You suppose our folks felt like this when we fell in love?”
“Surely. And I think John Lee and Phoebe will, too, in their turn. In fact, your ma will probably cackle when she hears about this, the evil old thing.”
Shaw laughed, unoffended. He knew that Alafair loved his feisty mother.
“So you told the boy he could call on Phoebe?” Alafair asked.
“I told him I’d think about it. I expect I’ll give him permission after you’ve spoken to Phoebe, and I think he’s sweated enough.”
They were chuckling together when John Lee came out on the porch and approached them diffidently.
“What is it, son?” Shaw asked.
“It’s pretty late, nearly eight o’clock. I reckon we’ll be going home now, Mr. Tucker, Miz Tucker.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to spend the night, now?” Alafair wondered.
“Thank you, ma’am, but no. You all have been most kind. And we’re indebted. But we’ll be all right now.”