Blood Kin

by Steve Rasnic Tem

  “Well if you squint your eyes a little, and look at it all just so, they’re like dibs and dabs of color, paint maybe, or pieces of cloth. Real pretty. But it’s better cause they move around, like butterflies, or bees gatherin their honey. They get pulled this way and that, like there’s a river of them, and you can see them flowin along, and changin course, and some of the little pieces in the stream, they jump out, and then they jump into a different stream, and if you look at it all long enough, well, I think you can tell what they’re going to do next. At least I can.”

  Sadie didn’t say anything for a time, because she was too busy seeing what Mickey-Gene was seeing. Then she said, “Mickey-Gene, you aint dumb like everybody says?”

  She could hear him shuffling his feet. “Dont tell nobody. But I reckon not.”

  She heard a sound then, a complaining, unhappy kind of sound but with no words in it. It rose up out of the field and floated over everything. People lifted their heads and stretched their necks trying to find where it came from. Sadie knew right away. It was coming from where the Grans were sitting. Addie was the one. How she knew which one was Addie from this distance when they both looked the same Sadie wasn’t sure. She just knew it was the kind of sound only Addie would make.

  Addie was staring across the field and pointing, her face red and her mouth drooped open, and there where she was pointing was the preacher coming down that slope behind the livery, and he had two of his big saints with him carrying this long wooden box. Sadie could hardly believe it, but there was no mistaking it was the snake box.

  The crowd separated to let them through, some of the folks clearly upset. A few even grabbed up their things and left. “You reckon he’s got his snakes in that box?” Mickey-Gene asked.

  “That’s the box I guess, and he must figure folks are gonna think they’s snakes in there. But I cant believe he’d take them out in front of the Grans.” But Sadie wasn’t looking at the preacher and his box anymore. She’d been looking at the crowd, and there on the edge of it, just after the preacher passed, she saw a black-haired woman she didn’t recognize, all dressed in gray. She was staring at Sadie like she wanted Sadie to know something. The woman’s gaze was so intense that it made Sadie look away, and when she looked away she found another strange woman dressed all in cream-colored clothes, staring at her. This woman had light yellow hair and a pale face and eyes that looked… Sadie couldn’t even find the eyes they were so pale, and no eyebrows either, but the way that woman’s head was pointed her way, leaning forward, Sadie knew the woman wanted her to pay attention.

  And that’s when Sadie could see them all so clearly, back under the distant trees that bordered the campground, and there between some of the buildings, and there, even there inside that overgrown clump of trees, where nobody could get into, and where the silver wraps of fog still lingered, a woman’s pale head was clearly visible, staring at Sadie.

  “Did you hear me? Did you hear me, Sadie?” Mickey-Gene was tugging on Sadie’s arm. Gently, almost tenderly she thought, like he was trying to wake her up. “I said I know where the preacher gets his snakes.”

  She turned around. “I figured he just trapped them here local. You mean he dont?”

  “Last summer I spent some time with Aunt Mattie’s people around the coal camps above St. Charles. They kept tellin me to stay away from them hills up there, said they was full of holes cause of the mines, didn’t want to have to explain to Aunt Mattie why I fell into one I reckon — she’s pretty quiet but she can be a terror where children are concerned. Anyways, I talked one of the older fellers into takin me exploring, figured I’d find me some treasure. Silver maybe.”

  “They got silver around here?” Sadie frowned, glanced back at the celebration. The preacher was standing on that box of his getting ready to preach. The thought of all those snakes wriggling around under his feet while he preached made her own feet tingle.

  “Not that I know of.” He looked embarrassed. “I just liked the idea of it. It gave me pleasure. Anyways, we came up over a ridge and was coming around some trees when we saw his big old black hat and his coat, even though it was hot as He — Hades that day. He was looking into this dark hole there in the side of the hill and he was reading from this big old floppy Bible what seen better days, had it clutched up in his bad hand, you know, the one what’s dark and kinda tore up.”

  “Yep, I know that ugly thing.” The preacher was raising his voice, but the people were restless, maybe because of that snake box, and maybe because they didn’t want to hear any preaching. So the preacher raised his voice some more until Sadie could hear the hoarseness in it. But she wasn’t hearing too many of the words, because she was looking for those pale women in the trees and in the crowd, and she spied at least three or four more than before.

  “And Abraham was old, and well stricken in age, and the Lord had blessed Abraham in all things. And as the Lord says in Genesis, I’m saying to you now, we gots among us here Addie and Elijah, surely two of the oldest of the old in this world, forebears and ancestors, progenitors and part of the Gibson original flesh! We’ve come here today to honor them, and eat as much food as possible!” There was some scattered laughter, mostly among the preacher’s saints, but Sadie figured most people were reluctant to laugh in the preacher’s presence, not being sure how he might take it. Sometimes what sounded like a joke from the preacher was just him making a point of being cruel.

  Addie was still going on in the background, her voice rising and falling, but a little softer now, like she was running out of steam. People didn’t seem to be paying her any mind, or maybe they were deliberately ignoring her. It was like she was just another part of the noise of the day, like the wind blowing through the trees — dark clouds were coming in, so maybe they’d get a little rain — or like the cows mooing in that pasture on the other side of the fence. But Addie’s calling made Sadie feel sad — they shouldn’t ignore the old woman, especially when she’d been so important to everyone here. And Sadie couldn’t tell if it was the distressed sound of a creature that didn’t understand what was going on, or understood far too much.

  “Sadie, this is important!”

  She turned back and stared at Mickey-Gene. “Sorry. There’s just… I’m seeing lots going on today. What is it?”

  “The preacher had a woman with him that day.” Mickey-Gene’s face was redder than usual.

  “Did you recognize her?”

  “Never seen her before. I dont think she’s from around here. She had her arm around him, and she was all pressed up against him while he was reading them words from his Bible aloud, and in her other hand she had a bunch of feed sacks. And sometimes, well, she’d kiss him on the neck.”

  “Kissed him?” He might as well have said she’d grown wings and flown away.

  “Yes, ma’am. And the more she kissed him seemed like the louder he got, and that’s when all them snakes come out!”

  “Then Abraham gave up the ghost, and died in a good old age, an old man, and full of years; and was gathered to his people!” The preacher’s voice was loud and harsh and Sadie’s head was suddenly full of it. And why was he going on so about old people dying? “And aint that the usual way of it folks? Nobody lives forever, not on this good earth! If a man is lucky he gets his threescore and ten, and fourscore maybe if he be a saint! But if he live past fourscore, why I dont know if he thinks he’s a god or what, but there can only be one God, praise his name, and that be Jesus, Lord Save Us Amen! To everything its season! And may the old make way for the young, Hallelujah!”

  “What snakes, Mickey-Gene?”

  “Rattlers and copperheads, mostly, biggest ones I ever seen. They came outta that hole from somewhere deep underground. And they wriggled on over there to the preacher and he laid his Bible down on the ground and they swarmed up on it, twisting together into one and raising themselves up on it like they were almost as tall as the preacher. Then he moved his head up on them and I swear they kissed him on his lips with those slipp
y tongues of theirs and he fell back sighing and carrying on such, laughing and all, and he took the sacks off the woman and he held them open and those snakes just slithered on in to them like that was their homes. Then he tied all them sacks together and he turned on the woman and he just fell on her like some kind of animal pawing at her and tearing her clothes off! That older boy with me wanted to stay but I was so scared I couldn’t wait and I just run away fast as I could! He came along behind me, finally. He was pretty mad, said I was a baby. I aint no baby, Sadie, but I dont need to see nothing like that.”

  “That’s okay, Mickey-Gene. You done the right thing. You done the smart thing.”

  “And it came to pass a long time after that the Lord had given rest unto Israel from all their enemies round about, that Joshua waxed old and stricken in age! So he had to divide among them his lands folks! He was compelled by God to give them the inheritance they deserved, as the Lord your God hath promised unto you.” The preacher was stomping his feet, and the box beneath them was rocking as a result, or from the movement of whatever might be inside.

  Addie’s complaint was rising louder again, and Sadie could see the agitation flow across the field. More people were gathering up their things and leaving. The pale women had disappeared from under the trees, and they weren’t as obvious to her as before, but here and there she’d catch a glimpse of them — a twist of gray or a pale stretch of face. The sky had grayed out to the color of tarnished silver, painful to look at. She saw several people around the Grans, trying to calm down Addie, trying to talk to Elijah. She saw her Aunt Lilly crouched down with her momma, holding Addie’s hands, trying to cover up her balding head. Uncle Jesse and her daddy were standing up, just watching the preacher, beers in their hands. And there were saints among them, moving around, looking at the preacher, then looking down, and not at all looking like they belonged.

  “Mickey-Gene, we best get down there.” She grabbed him by the hand and ran out into the middle of it, dragging him through the people, not sure what she was trying to do, just needing to get beside the Grans. She wished her Granddaddy Simpson was there — he’d know what to do, or at least might know what to say to her that might calm her down. She was a little angry with him that he hadn’t shown up.

  She felt a few drops of rain on her arm, and it was like it poisoned her, because in just a few seconds her entire body was cold. She saw the short, frail form ahead of her also headed for the Grans, and knew at once it was Granny Grace, who she hadn’t seen all day, and it was like she’d just popped up out of the ground, and now was running for all she was worth. And that made Sadie scared, so that now she was running too, and dragging poor Mickey-Gene with her.

  “As they tell us in Job,” the preacher’s voice bellowed behind them, and above them all, “You shall come to your grave in ripe old age, like a sheaf gathered up in its season!”

  She wasn’t thinking about those gray women then, but she kept getting glimpses of them, pale dresses and faces fluttering like moth wings, in and out between the townspeople. The rain had picked up, and Sadie’s hair was sticking to her face. She felt like a fish in a net.

  “As for yourself, you shall go to your fathers in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age. As the Lord said in Genesis, so it is now. There is a power in our people, but it is a power we have to seize. There is a greater destiny out there for the Gibsons, but only if we let go of our past and march on!”

  By the time Sadie got to the Grans, Granny Grace was already sitting there between them, patting Addie’s hand and whispering to her. Addie was still making that noise, but Sadie could barely hear it now, it was more like a gentle babble, and Addie was rocking.

  Uncle Jesse was so drunk he could barely stand. Daddy and Aunt Lilly were talking to him, trying to get him to sit down. He staggered toward Sadie and Mickey-Gene pulled her out of the way. The rain was coming down hard now, and everybody was grabbing what they could to leave.

  “Then he died at a good age, full of days, riches, and honor. And Solomon his son reigned in his place.” The preacher was right there on the edge of their small bunch of family, staring at the Grans, speaking firmly as if lecturing children, the rain pouring down his face, his hair like dark vines tearing across his skin and curling around his neck.

  Seeing the preacher Uncle Jesse raised his beer and stepped forward. Aunt Lilly tried to grab him but it was too late. Uncle Jesse slipped and fell right in front of Elijah, whose eyes went wide in surprise at the near-miss. Then he started to cackle, then laugh hysterically as Uncle Jesse tried to get himself up but couldn’t. Finally Uncle Jesse fell back and lay there, saying, “Ah Lilly, I’m dying. I’m gonna drown out here!”

  The preacher stepped forward and slammed his boot down into Uncle Jesse’s belly. “Have some respect!” Jesse howled until Granny Grace leaned forward with something hidden in her hand. The preacher yelled and stepped away. Sadie could see blood running across the preacher’s pants just above the boot. “That’s the last time you’ll be touchin anybody, witch!” the preacher shouted. Sadie watched as several of the saints entered the circle, their fists raised.

  Mickey-Gene stepped between her and whatever might happen next. “Preacher,” he said, voice wavering, “dont you always say there should be peace in a family?”

  But the sky exploded then, the rain coming down even harder than before. Somebody helped Uncle Jesse up and Sadie and Mickey-Gene and some others went to pull the Grans out of the flood.

  A few minutes later the group of them stood in the sheltered lane by the livery where they worked on the wagons. All except the preacher, who was standing out in the rain, staring at the rest of them, now and then looking straight up at the sky, sometimes opening his mouth and letting the weather inside. Daddy told him he should come in, told him he couldn’t do much preaching if he was sick in bed, but the preacher didn’t answer. Granny Grace squatted on the ground like a toad wearing a scraggly wig, staring back, looking like she’d bite his throat if he did decide to come in for shelter. Sadie noticed how she kept rocking back forth, moving side to side, and ready to do whatever to protect the Grans.

  The box was in there with them, a couple of saints standing at each end, but Sadie didn’t think there was anything in it after all — she couldn’t see any movement on the other side of those holes. Had he just brought the box to stir things up? Just like she knew what Sadie was thinking, Granny Grace reached out her hand and stuck her forefinger up to the knuckle in one of the holes, grinning at the preacher the whole time.

  Sadie heard a hissing. It made her heart stop, but Granny didn’t even flinch. There was that hissing again. She looked around. There was Elijah looking at her with eyes like wet stones, his finger to his lips. She went over to him and crouched.

  “It’s time,” he said to her, his voice eked out and thin. “Too big for his britches… he always were, but now.” He spit toward the ground, but as far as Sadie could see nothing came out. “You’re the only one… the only one who’ll see it, who’ll do something when the time comes.”

  “Gran, I dont know nothing…” She tried not to cry.

  “You dont know all you know. You just dont,” he said and sighed, closing his eyes as if too exhausted to explain. “You got to get that special Bible he has, the one he writes in hisself. He dont hold it forever, find out where he hides it. Without that maybe, maybe he cant do so much harm.”

  Elijah tried to say some more but couldn’t, and finally just fell asleep. Sadie held on to his arm. She was just a little girl — she didn’t care what her body was saying. It just wasn’t fair.

  Chapter Ten

  ON HER WAY to school the next morning Sadie stopped at her granddaddy’s house. It was another cool, gray morning, the heavy rains of the day before making everything look damp, the shadows melted and spread over everything, so that everything looked flat, like something had been taken away from the world.

  She knocked on the front door, and knocked on it. Granddaddy was always up a
t sunrise, working, but she didn’t hear a sound inside. The door was locked. It hadn’t always been locked, but that had all changed when her granddaddy and her dad had that falling out. Granddaddy thought her dad stole things. She didn’t think he did, at least she’d never seen him do it. She hoped he didn’t. She’d always liked thinking that however bad he was, at least he didn’t steal.

  She went around the back and tried that door. Still no answer. He was probably out in the fields, working with his cows. He’d been feeling poorly lately, and he’d gotten behind in his chores. She’d offered to help him but he’d always turned her down, said she had to put all her energy into her school work, make something of herself. He was probably out in the fields. She thought about going out to the barn, but he was probably out in the fields, and she was going to be late for school if she didn’t get going.

  The path up the hill to the school was still muddy and deeply rutted from the horses and the school wagon that morning so she had to climb up on the bank and walk through the wet grass. The ground was pretty rocky which was why it was good for neither planting or pasture which was why it had been donated for the school house she reckoned. She’d heard the building had been a little barn for feed in the old days and then a small group made it their church but after a bunch of them went north for jobs the children got to have it for their school. Most of those church people were back now that the jobs were drying up all over but they became part of the preacher’s group or they gave up praying all together. The school was higher than the town and it made her feel like a queen looking down from the top of that hill.

  When Sadie got to the school building everybody else was already sitting down. Mrs. Welch looked up at her, and didn’t smile her usual smile, but she went back to helping Little Jamie Collins with his arithmetic, and she didn’t say a word. Mrs. Welch was like that — she didn’t yell at you, but she noticed pretty much everything, and you felt bad if she noticed you doing something wrong. Sadie went to the back wall and hung her sweater up on a nail, then handed out the books to the first, second, and third graders like she was supposed to every morning. Some kids were assigned the stove and the coal bucket there in the middle of the room (everybody thought that was the best job because you got to be called “the fireman”), and some kids had to carry in the water pail, and some of the smaller kids had to do things like sweeping, but Mrs. Welch thought Sadie was the best reader, so she got to handle the school books.