by Lana Mowdy
Chapter 4
Over the next few months, Wade realized that things hadn’t changed all that much. Aunt Melly still had plenty of time to play and talk with him and Beau. The return of Ashley gave her strength to get around, and she was able to take the children on walks around the plantation, romp with them in the yard, and tell jokes that would make everyone at the dinner table roll with laughter.
Will began working in the fields, and Wade was with him through every step, plowing the fields, planting the seed, and harvesting the cotton. Wade watched every move, keenly absorbing every piece of information, helping when he could. He had already become strong and lean, taller than most other boys his age, and he continued to grow muscular through the long summer. He pulled weeds from the fields, helped clear trees from the overgrown pasture, and learned to draw water from the well. He listened to every instruction and followed orders perfectly, learning daily to love the land which he so attentively cared for.
His mother left for Atlanta in such a hurry, that he didn’t realize she had left for a whole day. After hungrily devouring a small portion of dinner, he looked around the table and noticed she was not presiding in her usual position at the table. He reached over and tugged Aunt Melly’s dress sleeve.
“Aunt Melly, where’s Mother gone?” he whispered.
“Your mother had gone to Atlanta for a few days. She will be back shortly,” Aunt Melly replied with a slight smile. He felt the rest of the family members at the table take a deep breath and a sense of heaviness settle in the dining room.
Will looked up from his meager portion with curiosity. He asked furtively, “Ashley, do you know Scarlett’s plan?”
Ashley steadied his voice, cautiously answering, “No, Will, I do not, but I am sure that she will think of some way to get the money for the taxes. She has proven herself to be quite resourceful when need be.” Ashley dropped his eyes, hoping that no one else would sense his worry.
“I think she is just hateful making herself a new dress when we are wearing rags, and she is probably going to do something scandalous. Only Yankees and scalawags have three hundred dollars right now,” Suellen raved, tears brimming in her angry blue eyes.
“Suellen, hush your mouth. You have no idea what Scarlett has done so far just to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head,” Melanie looked at Suellen keenly.
Suellen stopped talking for just a moment, and then smiled devilishly. “I don’t care even if she is doing something scandalous, or what she has to do to keep this stupid Tara. I am going to marry Frank Kennedy soon, and he will take me to Atlanta, and I won’t have to work like this any more. I will have fine dresses, plenty of food, and a ladies hands once again. He asked me to marry him, and he said that he had opened a store, and he will be coming to get me in just a few more weeks. So let Scarlett have Tara. I don’t want any part of it.” Suellen sat back in her chair, crossed her arms across her chest and huffed presumptuously. She had beaten Scarlett, and she would soon be rid of this slavery. A smile crept across her face, knowing she had won.
Melly stared at Suellen, horrified at the lack of loyalty, but refusing to say another word, in case it should come off sounding cross. She returned Suellen’s smile, turned to finish feeding Beau, and began talking to Will about next season’s crops.
Suellen’s smile turned fits of rage three weeks later when Mammy arrived at Tara with news of Scarlett’s wedding. Scarlett had deceived Mr. Kennedy in to marriage, stolen him away from Suellen, sent enough money to pay the taxes on Tara, and requested that Wade accompany Mammy back to Atlanta.
Every person in the house reacted to this news with overwhelming, ridiculous emotion, as if Scarlett had done the most incomprehensible yet miraculous feat. Suellen screamed and cried, while Carreen tried desperately to soothe her. Melanie momentarily sat stunned, but quickly responded with joyful dancing and laughing, knowing Scarlett had done something wonderful by saving Tara, only seeing her heroism, ignoring the deception. Ashley’s heart was broken, as he knew that Scarlett had reacted to the circumstance, marrying Frank for his money, blaming himself for driving her to such extreme measures. Will sat back and watched the reactions of the household with neither judgment nor reproach, knowing that Scarlett had done what she felt was necessary, but sympathizing deeply for Suellen’s loss.
Only Wade heard the last of Mammy’s news. He was going to be joining his mother in Atlanta. Atlanta would remain in his mind as the place of raining fire. Atlanta put terror in his heart, and he never wanted to set eyes on that horrific place again. He wouldn’t go to Atlanta. He couldn’t!
Racing to Will, his horror left him speechless, silently begging Will to intercede, but words failing. “Will, please help me! I can’t leave Tara. I can’t go back to the fiery furnace,” his mind screamed, but he couldn’t find the words, and Will, distracted by the numerous scenes taking place around him, did not notice the trembling boy standing mutely beside him. Suddenly racing from the room, unnoticed, Wade ran to his room, hid under the bed, hoping Mammy wouldn’t find him. Finally, sobs racked his body, and he cried himself to sleep.
“Wade, honey, where are you?” Aunt Melly called his name over and over. As if in a dream, Wade crawled out from under the bed, forgetting why he was hiding there in the first place. “Wade, I have been looking all over for you. Will is taking Mammy back to the train station this morning. Sweetie, you need to get cleaned up so you can go with her,” Aunt Melly smiled weakly, coaxing him out of his room.
Wade stamped his foot, scowling at her. “I don’t want to go. I won’t. I want to stay here with you and Will and Beau,” he yelled, not realizing the volume of his voice had risen into a scream.
Melanie hastened to his side, wrapping him in her arms. “Oh, Wade, my poor sweet baby, I don’t want you to go, either. You are my little man, but you are your mother’s son. I will miss you terribly, but your mother needs you. A mama cannot be away from her baby.”
Wade looked into her eyes, seeing her desperation. He knew that she loved him. Shame washed over him as he realized that he had just raised his voice to the only person who truly loved him. He dropped his eyes, holding back the tears so he could prove that he really was Aunt Melly’s little man. He would be brave… for Aunt Melly.
Within just a few hours the train pulled into Atlanta, and some of his fear subsided when he looked into the sky and saw the sun was shining and there was no fire in the sky. Still, an ominous feeling overtook him, and he truly wished he could be back at Tara.
Wade’s heart leapt with admiration as he looked out of the window and saw his mother, standing on the platform waving excitedly. He had not seen her look so beautiful in such a long time. She wore a crimson dress, buttoned to her chin. Her skirts were full with the proper width of hoops. Her hands were gloved in starched, white gloves. Even the tips of her boots which peeked out beneath her skirts were shiny and black. The color had returned to her face, which had lost its sunken look of desperation. Her crimson hat which matched her dress was demurely cocked to one side of her head, with long feathers stretching out the back. She looked beautiful. Once again, her eyes had become dancing green, and she smiled lovingly at him. He was reminded once again that he loved her desperately. Now that the tribulations of being penniless and hungry were over, maybe things would be different. Maybe she would take time to spend with him. Maybe she would love him, again the way that he loved her, and ached for her attention.
He greeted his mother with a half-hearted hug and a peck on the cheek. He hid his hands in his pockets so that she could not see them trembling nor the piece of earth he had wrapped in a handkerchief as a memento of Tara, for he didn’t know how long before he would be back to his beloved home, again.
As they rode in the carriage toward Aunt Pittypat’s house, Wade looked around, trying to find anything that looked familiar. He had been so young when they had fled the burning city, but everything had changed. The stores were all different, and too many lots were empty. Scarlett
led them in front of the store and past one of the lumber mills. “Someday, Wade, this will all be yours. You will inherit the store, the mills, everything,” Scarlett smiled, quite proud of herself. Wade just looked around, slightly disgusted. He didn’t want all this stuff. He wanted Tara, and if she ever asked, he would tell her just that.
When they entered Aunt Pittypat’s house, Wade’s stomach flipped. It was almost the same as when they had left; only it had obviously been ransacked, just like Tara. The nice furniture had been burned or taken, including the silver candlesticks, china, and linens. Slowly, Scarlett was restoring it, but times were still hard, and Scarlett’s fists were clenched tight.
“Hello, Wade,” Mr. Kennedy addressed him as soon as they walked in the door. “Hello, Sugar,” he pecked Scarlett on the cheek.
“Hello, Mr. Kennedy,” Wade replied politely. “Mother can I go up to my room, please?” After receiving a slightly disappointed nod of approval from his mother, he slowly climbed the stairs, back to the nursery, where he had spent nights as a child, terrified at the sounds of bombing, crying himself to sleep, and imagining lovely things to push out the scary ones from his mind. He looked around the room, hoping that things would be different and the nightmares would not return. Most of the furniture had been removed from this room, as well. What was left could be rearranged easily so he moved things quickly, welcoming the privacy.
Privacy lost its novelty pretty quickly when he realized that his mother was still just as busy as ever. She ran to the mills and the store every day, leaving him with Mammy, who had quite a load keeping up with Aunt Pittypat’s demands. He explored the house and found the hole under the house where he had hidden, but could no longer fit. He spent hours in his room daydreaming about Tara and wondering what was going on there. His cheeks became fuller, as he had enough food to eat every day, and he kept his deep tan by staying outside as much as possible, staying in the backyard where he was sure the Yankees that were ever-present on the streets of Atlanta, could not see him. He was miserable and terribly lonely, but he smiled gratefully at his mother over each meal, and kept silent to avoid invoking her wrath.
Scarlett did not recognize the subtle changes in her little boy until she returned from a week long visit to Tara for her father, Gerald’s, funeral. As soon as she entered Aunt Pittypat’s house, she swept through the house, as swiftly as her pregnant body would allow. She ran into Wade’s room, expecting to find him there. She looked out the window into the back yard, and what she saw almost broke her heart. Wade looked so lonely. His soft brown eyes were turned down on the corners, and his mouth was twisted in a frown as he concentrated on the fort he was building with sticks he found in the yard. She felt a twinge of guilt for leaving him here when she knew he loved Tara, but she did not want to subject him to another funeral, when he had faced so many hardships in his short life. She brightened quickly when she remembered the news she had for him that would cheer him up.
He looked up from his fort, and saw her standing in the window, and his expression suddenly changed. His eyes brightened as he recognized her form in the window, and he dropped his sticks as all his plans for the fort flew from his mind. He ran upstairs, and when he saw her hold her arms out, he flew into them, embracing her strongly. She was slightly taken aback by such a strong show of affection from her son, who did not usually approach her so willingly. When he finally released, she bent down, and smiled radiantly.
“Wade, I have a surprise for you!” Scarlett beamed.
“What is it? Can I have it now? Is it a puppy?” Wade bombarded her with questions.
“You cannot have it now, but very soon, Aunt Melly, Uncle Ashley, and Beau are coming from Tara to live in Atlanta. Aren’t you happy?” Scarlett’s eyes were beaming, and her smile was so uplifting that Wade would have given anything to keep that look on her face. He nodded excitedly, wanting to please her. “Good. My little boy is happy.” She pulled herself up, kissed him quickly on top of the head, and left him to go tell Mr. Kennedy the good news.
Wade lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time, pondering his mother’s excitement and planning all the things he wanted to tell Aunt Melly. He had so many games to share with his cousin, Beau. As he looked out his window, the sun peeked from behind the clouds, and darkness was lifted from his heart.
It didn’t take long for Aunt Melly to arrive, conveniently moving into the house right behind Aunt Pittypat’s. As soon as he heard that they were here, Wade hopped the shrubbery that divided the yard between the two houses, and made his way to his beloved Aunt Melly. She greeted him with the enthusiasm of a schoolgirl, making him feel right at home. She listened to him tell stories for hours, never too busy, never telling him to run along and play. She romped with him and Beau in the back yard, making up games, and playing along with their imaginary schemes. When she had company, he would peer into the room, uncomfortably, and she would invite him to play with Beau in the nursery. Always smiling kindly and always speaking gently, Aunt Melly soothed Wade, and he remembered what it felt like to be loved. Without a grand exit, loneliness faded away, and it was replaced with sweet, warm peace.
It had been a warm, summer day spent with Aunt Melly and Beau playing in the yard. They had made huge forts with sheets draped across the hedges and pretended they were confederate soldiers attacking the Yankee forces, slaughtering them at every turn. At each victory, Aunt Melly would throw a mock parade, congratulating her heroes as they strutted around the yard riding elegant hobby horses that Uncle Rhett had brought them as gifts, quite proud of themselves.
Wade snuggled under the covers that evening as the crisp air came in through the open windows. He was imagining the uniform he would wear when he was old enough to fight the Yankees, for he had heard the grown-ups say they would cede from the Union again, and this time they would win. His thoughts were stirred as his mother came in his room to shut the windows and tuck him into bed.
“Mother, when I grow up, I am going to be a great soldier. I am going to be a brave confederate soldier just like my pa. I am going to wear the gray uniform and kill every Yankee I see.” Wade grinned broadly, knowing that his mother would be proud of him, just as Aunt Melly had been proud of them that day.
Scarlett walked briskly to the windows, and slammed them tightly shut. When she turned, her face was crimson red, and her green eyes burned with fury. “I don’t ever want to hear you speak of those things again, Wade Hampton. The confederate army is gone. The war is over, and I will not have you gallivanting around the country trying to get yourself killed for some noble cause that made no sense in the first place.” She stood over his bed, looking at him, waiting for a reply.
“Yes, mother.” That was not quite the response he was expecting. Her words stung his heart and made him frown with confusion. Aunt Melly had been so proud. He looked at her intently, trying to understand her sudden anger.
He noticed changes in her that he had not seen before. Her waist was not as slim, and her cheeks were flushed.
“Mother, are you ill?”
Tightening the covers around him, she replied without looking up, “No, why do you ask?”
“Well, um, you just look different.” He was slightly embarrassed, and would certainly never tell her that her waist was thickening. Even in his youth, he knew his mother’s vanity and would not dare offend her.
She followed his eyes, and saw that he was looking at her growing waistline and her swelling bosom. When their eyes met, he looked away, blushing, knowing he had been caught in his gaze.
Scarlett chuckled under her breath. She had always thought that modesty was slightly overrated, and pregnancy was such a natural thing that should not be hidden. Although most mothers would have shielded their sons from such information by avoiding their questions and stifling future conversations, Scarlett decided to be truthful with the boy, preparing him for his future sibling.
“Wade, I am going to have a baby pretty soon. You are going to be a big brother.”
Wade’s eyes popped open. He had secretly witnessed moments of Aunt Melly’s ordeal, and had been with her during her long convalescence. “Will you be very sick? Will it hurt very much? Will you have to stay in bed? Mother, will you die?”
The sincerity of his questions touched Scarlett’s heart, but the scared cow look in his eyes annoyed her. She hoped he would grow out of that by now.
“No, Wade. It will be no problem at all for me. But you are another story. You are going to be a big brother and big brothers have a lot of responsibility.”
“Is it going to be a boy or a girl?”
“I have no idea.”
“How come you are going to have a baby?”
“Because that’s what grown-ups do.” That was the end of that. Scarlett grew tired of his questions, and he was now venturing into territory that she certainly wanted to avoid. She kissed him on the head, detecting that his hair had lightened slightly from spending so much time outside, and freckles danced gracefully across the bridge of his nose.
As she opened the door, she heard his tiny voice. “Mother, are you tired of having just one little boy? Are you going to love this baby more than me?”
Unperceptive of the tears he was fighting she answered flippantly, “How could I ever love anyone more than I love my little boy. Sometimes grown-ups just make mistakes. Mind you, it won’t happen again.” She flounced quickly out of the room, calling good-night from the hall.
As soon as he was sure that she was gone, he let the tears roll slowly down his face. He felt enraptured at hearing her expression of love, but all thoughts of being a hero were forsaken as he focused on being a big brother. “A lot of responsibility,” he recited envisioning his new role that would soon undertake.
His trepidation soon turned to anxiety as he began to plan all the things he would do with his young sibling. Day and night his thoughts were crowded with pastimes that he couldn’t wait to share. He would take it for walks, teach it how to play all his favorite games, and go on explorations of places in the backyard he had been too scared to try by himself. His thoughts turned back to responsibility, and he planned where they would hide in case of enemy invasion. He would often speculate about its gender and what he would call it then he would smile, happy to know he would soon have a playmate in his very own house.
When the time finally came, he waited downstairs in the library with Mr. Kennedy. He followed Mr. Kennedy’s footsteps pacing back and forth across the room, but as soon as Mammy cam downstairs, she made him go outside and play. Grumpily he left, but he soon snuck back in to wait anxiously for the baby to arrive.
He had to wait three long agonizing days before he was allowed to go into his mother’s room and take a peak at the tiny newborn. Leaping up the stairs, he grabbed a small toy that Will had carved for him as a gift for the new baby, and he remembered all the things he needed to tell it. But as soon as he stepped in the room, he immediately halted. This was not what he expected at all. He walked cautiously to his mother’s side, noticing that the lump on her abdomen had miraculously disappeared, and he looked at the tiny bundle resting beside her.
“Oh no!” he thought. He was not expecting this. It was a girl, and she was so tiny! She could not take walks with him. She could not even hold her head up by herself. His beautiful brown eyes, which had only a moment ago glistened with excitement suddenly dimmed, and he had to strain to hold back the tears of disappointment. There would be no games or explorations, and he suddenly felt very, very lonely. He warily reached over and kissed him mother and new baby sister on the forehead then he turned and left the room, shoulders slumped, and let out a deep sigh.
The months to follow did not give any sign of improvement. He was sorely disappointed as he realized that his responsibilities had not changed, but the atmosphere of the house had. Night after night he lay in bed with his pillow crammed over his head as the baby screamed. Early mornings he would leave quickly, and he would sometimes stay at Aunt Melly’s until after dark to escape the endless crying and whimpering. Jealousy crept into his heart little by little as he saw Mr. Kennedy, who had not invited Wade to use a more familiar name, hold and cuddle the tiny, screaming, miserable child, and he often caught his mother rocking her gently, soothing her to sleep. Mammy petted and pampered the child, the third generation of girls she had brought into the world, and all the neighbors came over just to see the squalling brat, as he had begun to call her.
Mr. Kennedy was spending more time out of the house in the evenings, attending political meetings and sitting with people who were ill. Wade would walk across the backyard with his mother and Ella to Aunt Melly’s house every night so they wouldn’t be at home alone in the evenings. It was getting harder and harder to sneak out of the house during the day, though. Mammy would catch him sneaking out the kitchen door and run him back to his room. He got terribly tired of spending time in his room, and Ella was no company whatsoever. The atmosphere of the house was strangely tense. His mother was easily disturbed, and Miss Pittypat seemed to require smelling salts more and more. He just had to go to Aunt Melly’s to play with Beau.
Staring forlornly out the window, he spotted placement of the branches on the tree which had stood slightly to one side of his window for as long as he could remember. The branches formed a perfect stepladder! His heart began to race as he contemplated his plan of escape. He could very easily step out his window, onto the ledge, grab a branch, and make his way slowly down the tree. He would have to be very quiet as he dropped to the ground. Then he could slink over the hedges to Aunt Melly’s. It was the perfect plan, except for the rain. The misting rain might make the tree a little slippery, and if he arrived at Aunt Melly’s soaking wet, she might ask questions, but he was willing to risk slippery branches and too many questions if he could just get out of this house for a few hours.
He slipped on his itchy sweater and opened the windows to peer out in case of intruders. Very carefully, he stepped out onto the ledge, and swelled with pride as he grabbed the first branch and stepped down. This was so much simpler than he had anticipated. He had almost reached freedom. But as he stepped down to the next branch, his concentration lost with exhilaration of freedom, he missed the step. Trying to hang on the slippery branch, he kicked around with his feet, but he couldn’t find the branch. His fingers were slipping. He looked down at the twenty foot drop. There was no way he could dare jump and land on his feet. He had no choice. Letting his fingers slide, his held his body tight as he fell to the ground with a thud.
Looking around, he was sure that someone had heard him. Throbbing pain slid up his arm like fingers, and he looked down to see his forearm hanging strangely. He wanted to scream as the throbbing became more intense, but he knew he would get a whooping for this. He had to make it to Aunt Melly’s house. She would know how to fix his arm and make it stop hurting.
Every step was torturous as he crossed the hedges and ran up to her step. Tears were streaming down his face, and his face twisted with agony. Blood drained from Aunt Melly’s face when she opened the door and looked down at Wade’s arm hanging limply from his side.
“Oh, darling! What did you do?” She wrapped him in a blanket, sending Uncle Ashley to go get Dr. Meade.
“I fell out of a tree. Please don’t tell Mother. I’ll surely get a switchin’.” Wade pleaded with his eyes. Melanie just wrapped him tighter, laid his head on her lap, and sang sweetly until the doctor arrived.
“You took quite a fall there, boy.” Dr. Meade’s eyes danced, remembering his when his son had broken bones. He had died during the Battle of Gettysburg, and he missed him every day. He would have given anything if it had been just a broken bone. “Don’t worry, Miss Melanie. Boys break bones all the time. Soon your Beau will have his first broken arm, and we can all celebrate.”
Dr. Meade wrapped Wade’s arm with plaster and gave instructions on how to care for it. “And don’t be bopping your baby sister on the head with it,” he smiled jokingly.
“
Miss Melanie, don’t you think Scarlett ought to be over here? Should I send for her? She is probably at the mill.”
Aunt Melly smiled weakly and shook her head. “I’ll take care of it, Dr. Meade. Just send the bill to me, and I will discuss it with Scarlett this evening. Thank you so much for coming.” She placed her hand on his. As he looked down at her small face, he conceded. The serene look of adoration and appreciation in her eyes gently coerced him to keep silent, in spite of his disapproval of Scarlett’s absence.
Wade sat up alarmed, “Are you really going to tell mother?”
“Well, don’t you think she is going to notice the cast on your arm?”
Wade considered this for a moment, swirling plans through his mind. “I will wear long sleeves, and if she does notice, I will just tell her I fell out of a tree. We don’t have to tell her I was sneaking out.”
Aunt Melly held his hands tightly as if what she was about to say was the most important thing she would ever say in her entire life. “Wade, I will say nothing to your mother, but you must never lie. Never.” The light in her eyes shone brightly, and Wade would remember those words and that look for the rest of his life. Guilt pierced his heart though he had never told a lie. He knew at that moment that no matter the circumstance, he would honor Aunt Melly with the truth.
He didn’t have to worry about telling a story for long. His mother was not nearly as imperceptive as he had thought. That very evening at dinner, she saw that his arm was a little bulkier than usual. “Wade, honey, what’s that on your arm?”
“Um, I um, fell out of a tree.”
“And… go on.” Scarlett waved her hand impatiently.
“I was trying to get to Aunt Melly’s house, and I fell out of a tree, and Dr. Meade put a cast on it.” The whole story came tumbling out. He kept his head down toward his plate hoping that in his fast rendition, she had somehow missed it.
“Great balls of fire! Nobody tells me anything around here.” Scarlett stood from the table, threw her napkin down, and stormed from the room.
He didn’t see her again that evening or the next morning. That afternoon when she came in from her visit to the sawmill, she looked terribly distressed. She ran up the stairs to change her torn dress, and she spent the next few hours in her room. He could hear her cries as she talked to Mr. Kennedy, as he calmed her with soothing words and light kisses. Wade was sure that her peculiar actions were all his fault.
That night Mr. Kennedy escorted them to Aunt Melly’s house, then he went off to attend a political meeting. Straining to hear the women’s voices, he placed his ear against the nursery door, but he could only hear the muffled voices of His mother, Miss India, Aunt Melly, and Aunt Pittypat. They were in the sitting room sewing, but there was an atmosphere of strife in the air, and he heard Miss India and Mother raise their voices for a moment. Wade began to tremble. All this excitement was surely about him, and he could easily remember his mother’s fingers as they struck his face in anger only a year ago. He knew that if Aunt Melly did not calm Mother, he would face her wrath again, and the idea frightened him.
“I just know that the ladies are talking about me,” Wade spoke softly.
Beau could hear the trembling in his voice. He looked down at the cast on Wades’ arm, and replied, "No, Silly." They are talking about the Klan.”
“Do you mean the Ku Klux Klan?” Wade’s eyes opened wide in horror. “What have they got to do with anything?”
“Well, I heard my pa talking about the raid on Shantytown tonight. I wasn’t supposed to be listening, but sometimes grown-ups forget we are in the room, and if I stay quiet as a mouse, I can learn all sorts of things I am not supposed to know.” Beau beamed at Wade as if he had just discovered a great secret.
Wade began to hiccup unconsciously.
“I think they are very brave,” said Beau. “They are defending the gentle women of Atlanta.”
“Who is in it? Well, I don’t know all of them, but I heard Pa talk about Mr. Kennedy and Dr. Meade.”
“Quit pulling my leg, Beau. Mr. Kennedy wouldn’t belong to such a group.” Although he had never felt very strongly toward Mr. Kennedy, he did have enough sense to know that he would never go against Mother’s wishes. “My mother says that the Klan is full of silly old men trying to relive their youth and stir up trouble. Mr. Kennedy would never do anything to make Mother upset, and he certainly wouldn’t participate in a group that Mother didn’t approve of.”
“Really? I know he is, and I am quite proud of my pa for standing up to those Yankees. Maybe your mother just isn’t a good confederate.” Beau, not realizing his stinging words, looked back to his tin soldiers.
Wade jumped to his feet. “My mother is a better confederate than any of those Klansmen, and she is smarter, too, cause she knows how to stay out of trouble. She said she would not stir the pot, and she is braver than your pa ever was.” Wade glared at Beau, angry that he would say such a thing about his mother. He balled up his fists, just in case Beau tried to say anything else.
“I say she’s chicken!” Beau glowered.
That statement was the last straw, and before he knew it, Wade swung his casted arm, and hit Beau right in the eye. Beau sat back on his hind-quarters, more stunned than hurt, but he started to cry, just the same. This was the first quarrel that he and his cousin ever had, and he wasn’t very happy about it.
Wade was still sore, but he decided he had better not hit Beau again. First, his arm was throbbing from the blow, and second, if Beau cried any louder, Aunt Melly would come in and want to know what happened. He could not bear disappointing her twice in the same day. He turned to his tin soldiers, and neither of them spoke for half an hour.
Long after they had been told to go to bed, they both lay awake, pondering their fight, hoping it wouldn’t happen again. Suddenly they heard voices on the walkway. It was Uncle Rhett and Uncle Ashley, and they were singing so loud they might have woken the entire neighborhood. Noiselessly, they opened the door wide enough to take a look into the parlor. They saw that Uncle Ashley, Beau’s pa was wounded pretty badly and had to be taken upstairs. Mr. Kennedy did not come in, and Wade lay there silently all night, waiting to hear his voice.
The next three days were an absolute treat for both boys. Wade got to stay at his house overnight. It was just like a sleepover, except they had to put up with Ella. She was beginning to crawl, now, and everything she got her hands on went straight to her mouth.
“Mother!” Beau would wail from the nursery. “Ella is trying to take our toys again.”
“You can share, can’t you darling?” Melanie would reply sweetly.
It was no use. Every time they had their tin soldiers set up for war, Ella would crawl over to them. In spite of their pleas, she would giggle softly, grab a soldier, and place it straight in her mouth. Wade tried several times to make her stop. He reprimanded her gently, taking the toy and wiping it off carefully, for he couldn’t have baby slobbers on his soldier. When that didn’t work, he would pick her up and set her in the corner, but when that didn’t succeed; he gently smacked her hand saying no. After no success, he lost his temper and slapped her right on the face.
Suddenly, he felt shame wash over him. He had done just what his mother had done to him, and he had promised to never do to anyone else. Ella’s screams penetrated the small house, and soon Aunt Melly ran into the nursery to pamper the baby. Beau reassured her that she hadn’t done anything to hurt herself, and Melanie was easily comforted. She took Ella to be fed, and they finally had time to play by themselves, but Wade just wasn’t in the mood for toy soldiers anymore.
“Come on, Wade! Let’s play with the fire engine Uncle Rhett brought from London! She’s gone, now. We can play!” Beau bellowed with animation as he considered all of Wade’s new toys.
Wade could only sit in the corner, thinking about what he had just done. To Beau, the action meant nothing because he had never felt the blow of a cross hand on his cheek. He was too young to remember Scarlett’s te
mper. He had never known any one to strike another person, and he didn’t know the consequences, but Wade knew. He knew what it felt like to be hated and scorned. He knew the feeling of desolation and grief, and he knew that the one person he had sworn to protect was the person that he had hit in anger. Even more atrocious was the fact that he had hit a girl. Though his male influences were few, he knew most of the priorities and characteristics of being a gentleman, and a gentleman never hit a lady.
As much as he loved his mother, he feared her more. He feared that she would see the fingerprints left on Ella’s face, and would know that he had lost his temper. He was afraid that she would retaliate, reminding him of the brief pain and long-lasting broken heart. Most importantly, she would realize that for all of her training and Mammy’s hard work, they had not turned out a gentleman. He wanted to be a gentleman. His father was a gentleman, but this action was proof that he would never be a gentleman like his father. This thought was enough to make him cry, for he knew that his mother had loved his father, Aunt Melly had said so, and as long as he was not a gentleman as his father had been, she could never love him as much as she had loved his father. In spite of Beau’s pleading, Wade spent the rest of his time at Aunt Melly’s sitting in the corner, reflecting on all of these jumbled feelings, still hoping to someday catch his mother’s eye, feel the warmth of her arms around him, and hear the tender, affectionate words spoken that he had often heard Aunt Melly whisper to Beau.
Wade had never been so happy to be home as he bounded up the steps to his room. Without looking around, he flopped himself down on his cheap tick mattress, unaware of the feathers poking through the coverlet to his stomach or his face. He immediately fell asleep, and did not wake for hours until Mammy came to call him down for supper. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up wondering how he could have slept to long. He was just fixing to leave his room when he looked around and noticed, most horrifically, that Ella’s bassinet had been replaced by a large crib and moved into his room. Right beside the crib sat a large rocking chair which Mammy would use to rock Ella and feed her when she awoke in the middle of the night.
His room had never seemed big enough. It was much too small to accommodate oversized feather mattress perched on top of a cheap pine frame. His large bureau looked as if must have belonged in another room because it towered above him, almost touching the ceiling. His window looked over the backyard where he could see Poke trying to catch the chicken to prepare for supper, and if he squinted, he could make out the shape of Aunt Melly’s house through the fog. His curtains that had once been a splendorous shade of royal blue were now faded and torn, and since everyone had been so busy, nobody came to wipe down the thick dust which covered the sill.
Improvements had never been made in the house since the Yankee invasion, and as he looked around he saw the wallpaper curling off the walls. He loved to peel strips from the wall, delicately pulling so as not to tear the paper. If he was very careful, he could peel the paper in six inch long strips, revealing the yellow glue underneath. The shapes of the glue were interesting, and he could make up stories by looking at the glue patterns and imagining they were pictures.
Now he would never have the privacy of his own room. Remembering that he had been called to dinner, he scrambled down the stairs to meet his mother in the dining room. He was surprised at the color of her frock. So many times he had splendored at her brightly colored dresses with yards of silk fabric. His favorite was her green velvet costume, adorned with golden buttons and trim. Green made her eyes light up, and she looked so vibrant and beautiful. This evening, though, she was wearing black. The drab cotton black dress accentuated her dark hair and eyebrows, creating dramatic black streaks against her pale face, overpowering her eyes. She wore no rouge and her demeanor was downcast.
He walked in and sat down at his designated place, cautiously eyeing his mother. Mr. Kennedy’s place was not set at the table, and though he was curious, he dared not ask any questions until she spoke. They ate in silence, as he tried to gather to courage to ask about Mr. Kennedy’s absence and broach the subject of Ella’s crib in his room.
“Wade, are you glad to be home?” Scarlett asked without looking up from her plate.
“Yes, Mother. Is Mr. Kennedy going to be joining us?”
Scarlett threw her napkin on the table and ran from the room, crying passionately. Wade stared after her, dumbfounded. He certainly did not understand her reaction.
Mammy had been standing in the shadows, anticipating the scene. She rushed to him and held out her arms. Wade rushed into them, and without a word, he understood what had happened. He buried his face in her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Although he had never thought of Frank Kennedy as a father, his heart was wrenched from his chest as though he had lost his father all over again.
For over a year he had felt safe and protected knowing a man was in the house to take care of his mother, and now he was gone. No good-byes were said, and he had attended no funeral. He was just gone. Realization poured over him as he pondered the full effect of the situation. He was the man of the house again, and he was scared.
Mammy carried his trembling body back up to his room without finishing his supper, and laid him on the bed. She sat there on the bed with him for a few moments, cooing words of comfort, but no words could soothe his broken heart. He wondered if they would have to scavenge for food again, and his brain screamed in the face of desolation. He didn’t want to be hungry again. He didn’t want to see the cat-like eyes of his desperate mother, working with her hands in the field, gathering food and fending off starvation moment by moment. His sobbing turned to hiccups as Mammy stood to leave. He wished with all his heart that she would stay, but he couldn’t bring himself to say a word. He just laid his head down, a fell back into a deep sleep.
That night, the dreams of Yankees returned. They were all around him. He couldn’t fight them off. They stormed through the house, looting and running their bayonets through every cushion. They set fire to the kitchen and took all the food in the house. His mother screamed as they grabbed her arms to restrain her from scratching out their eyes and hitting them her fists. Wade ran to her side and began kicking them and screaming, and they deftly ran a bayonet through his belly. When he awoke, he felt a sharp pain in his belly. Sitting up, he realized he had fallen asleep atop of one of his tin soldiers.
As the next few months passed, he was slowly reassured that his greatest fears would not come to pass, as they still had supper on the table every night. His mother was gone even more now taking care of the mills and the store, but she came home every night. Wade still didn’t sleep well. Ella woke up several times each night, screaming from hunger, and Mammy would slowly make her way with a bottle. He was soothed as she sat in the rocking chair with Ella, feeding her and humming lowly. Still, his eyes grew dark. Each time he would make his way to Aunt Melly’s house, she would take him in, encouraging him to be brave, but secretly worrying about him.
After a particularly restless night, Wade decided that he must speak with his mother about the sleeping arrangements. He was the man of the house now, and he gathered his courage to approach his mother. He would walk into her small office, and demand his own room. She simply had to comply because he was a man.
He marched in there, stiff-necked and courageous. “Mother.”
Scarlett looked up from the figures lying on her desk, wild-eyed and barbarous. “What do you want now? Can’t you see that I am busy?” She practically screamed at him.
He cowered at the sound of her voice and the look in her eye. His eyes grew round, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look like a scared little boy. His manliness left him, and his knees grew weak. Bracing himself against the doorway, he quietly responded, “Nothing.” He backed out fearfully and ran to Aunt Melly’s.
Scarlett sat back in her chair, stunned at her reaction to her simple child. Frustration was quickly replaced with disgust as she thought of the cowardly look on his face. She could not beli
eve that any child of hers could be so easily frightened. She had no idea that she was the cause of his torment, and it never crossed her mind that he had suffered far worse than she at the hand of the Yankees.
Months passed, and he never dared approach his mother again. Just when he thought he would never feel the sweet bliss of peaceful sleep ever again, Uncle Rhett came bounding through the door with armloads of gifts for him and Ella. Although he felt slightly guilty for listening through the door of the library, he heard every word that passed between Uncle Rhett and Scarlett. He skipped with delight up the stairs, knowing he would soon be back at Tara. His mother was going to marry Uncle Rhett, and he and Ella would be going back to Tara while they honeymooned in New Orleans.
He could hardly breathe as he opened the top drawer of his bureau and pulled out the handkerchief filled with Tara’s soil. So often he had fingered his precious treasure, wishing he could go back to open land and the big house. He longed to see Will again and sit with him in the evening as he whittled toys of oak chips he had gathered. He knew that his mother would send money for food, and he had his mother talking to Mr. Kennedy, months ago about how well Tara was doing. The gardens were yielding plenty of fresh vegetables at the hands of Will’s skillful farming, and the cotton would soon be ready to gather. He closed his eyes, feeling the warm sun on his face and the fresh earth beneath his unshod feet. He was going home. A pleased smile crossed his lips as he whispered the most pleasant word in his vocabulary, “Tara.”
Within a bustled week, Wade and Ella stood on the platform waiting for Will, waving good-bye to Scarlett and Rhett as they headed for New Orleans. Before they had boarded the train, Scarlett had kissed his cheek, reminding him to be good, mind his Aunt Suellen then hugged him as if it were the last time she would see him. Uncle Rhett held out his hand and shook his hand heartily, grinning from ear to ear.
“Congratulations, Uncle Rhett. I hope you have a good time in New Orleans,” Wade spoke, truly meaning every word. He was truly fond of Uncle Rhett and looked forward to long manly talks with him. For the moment, though he could only think of getting to Tara.
“Please, Wade, let’s drop “Uncle”. You can call me Rhett. I am no more your uncle than you are a girl.” Wade dropped his hand, and studied his face. Rhett’s eyes danced, and Wade couldn’t tell if he was elated because of his recent vows and prospects of the honeymoon, or if he was laughing at him, but he was not going to take chances. Mr. Kennedy had never made an effort to engage sentimentalities, and Wade desperately longed for a father figure. Grabbing Rhett around the waist, he hugged him tightly, and seemingly unstartled, Rhett wrapped his arms around the small boy, embracing him, silently committing himself to fatherhood.
Wade impatiently watched the road as the wagon headed for Tara with Will beside him holding the reins and Ella riding in the back. “So, I hear your mother has gotten married.” Will looked straight ahead, simply stating a fact rather than plying for information as other people would have done. “I don’t know if you know this, but your Aunt Suellen and I have been married, and you have a little cousin. You will meet her soon.”
More babies! Wade bristled at the idea of being around yet another child. He just hoped this one wouldn’t be a girl. Girls were just too fussy, and they required so much attention.
“It’s a baby girl,” Will beamed with pride, not noticing Wade’s eye roll.
They finished the journey in silence as Wade concentrated on every sight and smell so he could take the memories with him when he went back to Atlanta. The big house looked the same as it had when he left. The house was sparsely furnished, but clean, and all the furniture neatly repaired. After dinner he vowed to walk the plantation first thing in the morning and oversee all the improvements. He fell into bed that night, exhausted from the trip.
When he awoke the next morning to blinding sunlight streaming in through the windows, he felt refreshed. Ella had been placed in the nursery with Cousin … so he had slept uninterrupted for an entire night. He sprung from his bed and raced down the steps to the smell of bacon, eggs, and sausage. To his delight, Aunt Suellen served him coffee. His face scrunched at the bitterness, but he would not share this slight embarrassment, allowing anyone to think he was not a man. He thrust his chest and swallowed every drop of the rancid fluid, thanked Aunt Suellen for such a lovely breakfast, and announced that he would be surveying the land. Suellen was able to stifle her giggles at the boy, who was strutting like a man, until after he had managed to leave the house. She felt pity in her heart for him because she knew how his heartless mother treated him, and no matter what airs he took, she would never berate him. Hopefully in the short time he was here, he would lose the deep circles under his eyes, and don the gallant chivalry that every confident man must possess.
Wade spent the rest of the morning inspecting every inch of the land. The gardens were stocked full of vegetables that were beginning to sprout. Soon, Suellen would be gathering the harvest, and canning for the winter. Big Sam had been a big help since Mr. Kennedy had sent him from Atlanta. The barn had been rebuilt, and the livestock that Scarlett had bought the last time she was here had borne offspring and was beginning to fill with piglets, lambs, and chickens. The cotton was growing, too, and as he wrapped his hand around the tiny unopened bulb, pride surged through his body. He felt peace with the land, and he felt confident that the land would honor him as he worked it with his hands, pouring his soul into the soil, which had made his grandfather into a great man, and which would replenish his emptiness. His heart was in this land, and as he knelt to pray for a plentiful harvest, he vowed to care for it in return.
He regretfully walked toward the house, sensing that it much be lunchtime from the growling in his tummy. He met Will on the way. He had to slow his steps in order to match the slow, lackadaisical stride of Will’s.
“So what do you think, young man?” Will asked, admiring the boy’s enthusiasm, and hiding his amusement at the boy’s square shoulders, never dismissing the seriousness of the boy’s admiration and desire to represent masculinity.
“Looks good, Uncle Will. When do you suppose you will be clearing the back forty?”
“Well, I’d like to get to it soon, but hired help is not to be found. Maybe you should start on it. That can be your project while you are here. I sure could use the help of a strong man, and I see your muscles are getting mighty big.”
Wade’s eyes sparkled at the compliment, and only Will could see him grow a full inch taller as he straightened his posture and held his head high. Will hoped that suggesting such a big task was actually a good idea. Although the boy was tall for his age, he had grown weakly over the past months. He had noticed when he picked them up at the train station that he still carried the look of a frightened rabbit, most of the tan had left his face, and he was almost too weak to lift his bags into the wagon. “This job will either make him or break him. Can’t do any worse than what has been done so far,” Will thought sadly. Shaking his head, he followed Wade into the house, announcing to Aunt Suellen that Wade was going to clear the back forty. Wade missed the puzzled, worried look that crossed Suellen’s face, but he radiated pride when he saw her smile, clap her hands, and jump like a school girl. He was needed.
Wade spent the afternoon evaluating the project, inspecting the thick brush which had grown over the once fertile land of cotton. He was tempted to become discouraged, but remembering the look on Aunt Suellen’s face was enough to strengthen his courage. He made mental notes of the tools he would need, and decided where he would start. Being that he had never done this sort of work, he sorely underestimated the amount of labor involved, and was convinced that he could have the land restored within the month. He figured to get a good rest tonight, and start first thing in the morning.
The next morning after a hearty breakfast, he gathered his tools and headed for the back forty. He had refused the help Will offered over breakfast; sure that he could complete the task by himself. As he neared the thick brush,
he pushed off his feelings of inadequacy, and plowed into the think brambles. He cut down several branches and wiped the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Steadily he worked through the morning, unaware of the blisters beginning to form on his smooth hands.
When the sun had risen, he felt the blazing heat beat down on his arms and back. He looked across the field hoping to catch a glimpse of Will, but waves of heat radiated from the ground without a hint of breeze to clear its wavy haze. Turning back to his work, he picked up the ax which seemed so much heavier than it had only seconds ago, and he felt the warm liquid run down his fingers as his first blister popped. Tears of frustration and shame ran down his face as he fell to his knees in pain. He dropped his head to his chest, trying to muffle the sounds, and hoping that no one had witnessed the scene. “If his mother saw him now, she would be ashamed of him,” he thought. “Wallowing on the ground like a baby is exactly what she expects of me, but I will prove her wrong.”
Using the ax handle for support, he lifted himself, and walked slowly down through the trees to a small creek winding through the land. Surrounded by trees, he was sure that he could hide here for a few minutes as he washed his face and blistered hands in the cool water.
Sitting back in the damp, cool grassy shade, he leaned his back against a tall post oak and gathered his senses, breathing in the life around him. Tall trees towered overhead, shading the tiny sprouts of saplings along the creeks edge. Clinging to the trees, long willowing vines were covered with small white flowers which smelled of honeysuckle. Whippoorwills sang from the tops of the trees, calling to their mates in with a sweet melodic voice, answered with similar calls. The ground was teeming with life as small bugs jumped around here and there, gathering food, building homes, and playing boisterously.
Wade was so busy taking in the sights and smells of his small haven, that he was startled to see a figure across the creek, making her way through the tangled vines. As she came closer, his heart began to beat rapidly. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He watched her delicately tiptoe barefooted across the leaf covered ground as though she had stepped on the dance floor and was wading through the crowd to join him. She stopped now and then to pick up something, which she would gently place in her basket. Through the trees, the sun peeked on her blonde hair, surrounding her face like a halo, as delicate curls lifted slightly by the subtle breeze. He could only catch a glimpse of her lovely face with fair, delicate features and dark blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes that fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. As she waded across the creek, her thin white cotton dress, clung to her childish form, and Wade felt the blood rush to his face.
She must have been about his age, and he had never seen the form of any girl, nor had he wanted to. He was suddenly overcome by strange emotions that were both electrifying yet uncomfortable. He knew that he should never see such things, and if he was caught, this angelic fairy creature would die of shame. As he lifted himself from his hiding spot, he tried to be quit inconspicuous. He looked back at her one last time, but she must have sensed something unusual, for she was gone, as quickly and quietly as she had come.
He walked back to his work, unnerved, yet revived. He grabbed his tools and began working feverishly, stopping only to wipe the sweat from his brow and his hands on his shirt as the blisters began to open and bleed. When Big Sam yelled quitting time, Wade gathered his tools and inspected his work. He had not made nearly the headway that he had hoped for, but it was a good start. Never before had he enjoyed his evening meal as he did this one, and Aunt Suellen dismissed his lavish praise for her cooking by saying that a hard working man always enjoys a good meal.
After dinner, Aunt Suellen wrapped his hands in torn rags coated in camphor, and sent him to bed. Of course, he did not need much coaxing. He was exhausted from his day’s work, and he wanted a few minutes before he fell asleep to think about the enchanting girl by the creek. As he walked up the stairs to his room, he paused as he heard Aunt Suellen speak.
“It’s just not a good idea, Will. Did you see his hands? He is not used to working like this. Scarlett will be furious.”
“He’s alright, Suellen. Hard work will put some meat on his bones. It will take him a few days to get his strength back, but he’s a hearty boy. This will be good for him.”
“I just can’t believe the way he looked when he got here. He hung his head like he was scared to walk in the door. He wouldn’t even look up until I talked to him. Then he looked like he had seen a ghost, stammering with polite conversation. What is that woman doing to him?”
Wade’s head was spinning. What woman was Aunt Suellen talking about? Nobody was doing anything to him, and he certainly did not remember stammering. Did he really look like he was scared?
“You can’t be too hard on Scarlett. She does what she believes she has to do.”
So they were talking about his mother. He balled his fists with indignance. How dare they speak about his mother that way!
“You know she doesn’t love him. She didn’t love his father either. She just married him out of spite, and now the child is bearing the brunt of her ignorance. Then she married Frank for his money, and now is this Butler man, who isn’t received by any family in Charleston. She doesn’t care for anyone but herself, and she never has.”
Lies! All lies! Wade ran to his room, slamming the door. How could they say such terrible things? Aunt Melly told him that Mother loved his father. Aunt Melly said so. Suddenly reverting back to childhood tantrums, he kicked his feet, buried his face in his pillow, and screamed. He wouldn’t listen to such trash, and he would never again speak to Aunt Suellen. Will had defended his mother, but he had never seen such a hateful side of Suellen, and he didn’t intend to give her any more ammunition.
The next morning, he left the house before anyone else and headed to his work. Suddenly he felt the effects of his strain yesterday, and just picking up his ax was torture. It felt as if needles were prickling his body and the ax weighed a ton. With every move his body screamed for mercy, but he would not give in. He cut slowly and meticulously until the sun had reached its height, and he thought of the girl by the creek. He suddenly felt the need for cool water, so he made his way down.
He waited there for over an hour, just hoping to catch a glimpse of her. “What is her name?” he wondered, glancing around in case she came from a different direction. Finally, he decided to go back to work. It may have just been a dream. He had heard of delusions from men who had spent too much time in the Georgian sun. They called it heat exhaustion.
Refreshed, he began working again. The medicinal rags that Aunt Suellen had put on his hands were soaked with blood again. He removed his shirt and tore it into strips to wrap around his wounds. Pain radiated through his arms as he swung the ax, but it was a good pain. He felt strong, masculine as the warm sun beat down on his bare back. When Big Sam yelled quitting time, he stayed just a few more minutes to finish up, and then he headed slowly for the house.
Suellen’s face strained as she took a look at Wade when he walked in the house. “Oh, Wade, you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” he responded. He squared his jaw and faced her, restraining his voice to keep from trembling.
“You took off your shirt, honey. You can’t do that.”
“And why not? I am a man, and men can work without a shirt,” he replied coolly. He turned on his heel to wash up before supper, but as he leaned over the basin, he suddenly understood what Aunt Suellen was saying. She had not referred to gentleman’s modesty. Burning surged across his back. Reaching back to touch his shoulders, he yelped with pain as his fingers ran across ripples of sunburn blisters that had risen in the few hours he had been working.
Hearing a knock on the door, he stifled his cries long enough to turn and see Aunt Suellen standing in the doorway. He broke down in tears.
“Oh, my poor baby, Will should have told you, but I guess he wasn’t there.” She tenderly stroked his head, and kissed the tea
rs from his bright red cheeks. The conversation he had overheard was forgotten as she doctored his wounds and nurtured his broken spirit. He was baffled by her kindness and enraptured by her all the same. Soothing him with her soft voice, he went right to sleep.
That night was fitful and restless. Each time he rolled onto his back, searing pain and burning showered him, and he had to be careful of touching his hands. Each time he woke up, he played the conversation he had overheard in his mind. He was no longer angry in light of Aunt Suellen’s nursing, but there were so many questions to be answered. Did his mother really marry his father for love or spite? Drifting off to sleep, he dreamed of the beautiful girl by the stream, and upon waking his mind was filled with questions about her as well. Who was she?
The next morning over breakfast, Wade met Suellen’s eyes humbly, beseeching her not to tell of his tears the night before. He could not bear the thought of Will thinking he was a baby.
Will ate heartily, and not looking up from his plate, trying to sound nonchalant, asked Wade, “I haven’t got much to do today. How ‘bout some help with the back forty?”
Wade looked up from his plate, searching for a tone of disappointment, but found none. He had looked forward to telling his mother that he had accomplished the overwhelming task of clearing the land by himself, but he knew that the job could not be completed by the time she returned if he insisted on finishing it himself. He was also terribly afraid that he would not have a moment to slip down to the creek, but his work had to take priority.
Wade decided to accept the help graciously, responding without a show of meekness. “That would be fine, Uncle Will. There are a few branches that I haven’t been able to tackle, and maybe you can give me some tips using these tools.” Wade met Will’s eyes, sharing a mutual respect.
In spite of the anguish of the severe sunburn and blistered hands, Wade knew that this had been his most productive day yet. Will had showed him how to grip the ax in order to get a more powerful swing and to force the shovel underneath the deep roots to unbalance the trees. Around noon, Wade began looking towards the river, trying to figure out a plan to go to the river alone. Will caught his glances, realizing that it was dinnertime, suggested that they go to the house and wash up for dinner. Wade reluctantly told him that he would be along in a few minutes. Will nodded and walked to the house alone.
Quickly, Wade slipped down to the creek, longing to see the mysterious girl again. He was not disappointed to see the magical creature gathering berries from beneath the trees and plucking them from bushes. Today she wore a faded pink cotton summer dress and she was absolutely breathtaking. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail which trailed down her back and exposed her long, slender swanlike neck. He longed to reach out and run his fingers down her neck, instead his eyes traveled down her, drinking in every inch as he would a cool drink of water. Hiding himself behind a sturdy oak, he felt gluttonous as he longed to reach out and touch this beautiful girl who was complete unaware of his presence. Watching her every move, he very carefully slid from behind the tree, catching her eye and making contact. Her eyes grew wide with fright at the unknown visitor. Turning quickly, she scrambled to the ground above the creek, and he watched her barefoot flight with bewilderment and unrecognized fervor.
That evening, after quitting time had been called, Wade looked over their progress with pride. They had made a straight trail through the brush, clearing a path to make it easier for Wade to work through the land. He and Will walked back to the house with deep satisfaction in a hard day’s work. That evening, Wade had the energy to sit through dinner, and joined the family for their evening prayers.
Aunt Suellen had taken over the religious education of the family after her mother had died and her sister had joined the convent. Wade had never heard evening prayers, and he felt a calming sensation, listening to the melodic recitations that Suellen so naturally led them through. He did not understand them, and he did not know the words to say, but he listened intently to her voice ringing sweetly and the somber, peaceful responses from the rest of the family which sounded so natural. These prayers were not like his, the genuine pleas of a young boy, faithfully expecting his prayers would be answered. Suellen’s prayers were melodious expressions of faith, earnest, beseeching divine intervention. Her voice rang through the room, reminding him of the musical clock which rang through Aunt Pittypat’s house on the hour. Long after prayers had ended, Wade remained on his knees, wishing they would never end, and finishing prayers in his own small voice with the sincerity of an innocent child.
The next few months were blissful. Wade’s hands had healed, and were forming calluses which Wade proudly showed to his aunt and uncle. Even his sunburn had faded, turning to a deep tan. He felt manly as he noticed that the hard work had hardened the muscles in his arm, back, and legs. Although he felt slightly immodest, he would sometimes stand in front of the mirror, admiring his tan, flexing his muscles and gaining self-confidence. He had worked hard, and the he was close to being done clearing the land. It had been a chore, but the land was soft and fertile. As soon as he was finished, the land would be ripe and ready to plant. The land was revived because of his care, and the land was responding to his labor.
Every day, Wade snuck down to the creek, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful girl. After the first time, he decided to take things a little slower, and had hidden himself most of the time. Over the last few weeks, though, he had been sitting on the creek bank when she showed up, acting as though he barely noticed she was there, stealing glances only now and then. He was trying to gather the courage to speak to her, and he had decided that this was the perfect day.
He dangled his feet in the cool water, thinking of the right words to say. When he felt her presence, he lifted his eyes, startled to see that she was standing right before him. This time, it was his turn to become speechless, his mouthed gaped wide. She reached down with her milky, white hand and closed his mouth gently then she sat down beside him, crossing her legs beneath her.
“You have been watching me. Why?”
Wade sat there, dazed.
Curiosity danced in her eyes, and she giggled with impish delight. Her voice had the long, slow drawl that spoke of Savannah. To him, her voice sounded like the coo of a dove.
“Well, can you speak? My name is Emily. What is yours?”
Wade spoke the only words he could grasp, “Can I touch you?” Immediately he blushed, ashamed of his lack of poise and blundering foolishness. Rhett would never say anything so silly. Gathering his wits, he tried desperately to think of something more flattering.
“Whatever for?” Emily gazed at him with an impish grin on her face.
“I am not yet convinced that you are real. You have the face of an angel.” Although his first words spoken had captivated her heart eternally, he thought his words childish, and he regretted ever speaking or making himself known.
“I am certainly no angel. I am flesh and blood. Here, touch my arm and you will see.” She held her arm toward him.
He ran his fingers tenderly down her arm, feeling goose bumps erupt from her soft flesh. He took her hand, and held it in his, studying her roughly cut, dirty fingernails and the calluses which were obviously new.
“See, you silly goose.” She pulled her hand away, blushing modestly at his restrained passionate stroke. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why have you been watching me?”
“Because you are the most strikingly beautiful girl I have ever seen.” He refused to tell her any more, guarding his words carefully that he might not reveal too much. He could not tell her that he had imagined the day she would speak to him, or that he was irrepressibly drawn to the creek daily, in the hopes of seeing her.
Suddenly becoming very shy, she hid her hands in the folds of her light blue cotton dress, which fell just below her knees when she stood. She hid her face beneath the tumbles of hair until she resumed her composure. “I see,” she replied almost inaudibly. “I must go. Fat
her will be calling for me. I hope to see you again,” she called briskly making her way through the curling vines, leaving Wade with an even deeper burning desire to append just a few moments with her.
During evening prayers, he couldn’t concentrate, thinking of Emily, picturing her in her thin cotton summer dresses, wading through the creek, gathering berries. He would sometimes become so overcome that he would lose concentration and miss the response which he had worked so hard to memorize to perfection. At night he would dream of her, chatting with him in the moonlight, feeling her soft skin close to his cheek, and his heart would ache with longing. He longed for companionship.
As the back forty became clearer, he could see the creek from where he worked. He nearly chopped off his foot, as his eyes kept diverting, hoping to see her shadow. When she didn’t come, he left heartbroken and discouraged. When she did come, though, they would meet under the tallest oak. They would lie on their backs, looking up into the treetops with their hands behind their heads, talking for as long as she could steal away without being missed. He learned more about her than he had ever dreamed, and he hung on her every word as if it were the last word he would ever hear her speak.
He had been right when he detected a Savannah accent. Her family was from Savannah, where they had owned a modest farm with only a few slaves. When Sherman made his march to the sea, the Yankees had burned everything. She and her family refugeed further south, hoping to find safety until they could return to their farm. She missed her home terribly, but they found out that they could never go back. Deserted land had been given to the freed slaves with the promise of forty acres and a mule. Thankfully, the Fontaine’s needed help on their plantation, and her family had moved into a small dwelling on the land, probably former slave quarters, in exchange for help with the farming. It was called sharecropping. Her father farmed a few acres, giving the abundance to the landowners to pay for the dwelling, and the family was given room for their own crops. Wade had never heard of sharecropping, and it didn’t sound pleasant, nor did it sound profitable for the small farmers. She made her life sound pleasant, though, as she only knew how.
Wade told her the many details of his short life, and when she found the courage, they ventured far enough away from the creek to see the land he had cleared. His heart swelled with pride as she praised his progress. He shared his hopes for his mother’s approval of his hard work, and she responded with nothing but approval of his plan. He hoped with all his heart that his mother would tarry just a few more months. Although his project was almost complete, he was not ready to give up the company of Emily, and when he shared this news with her, she shared his sentiments.
Though their relationship blossomed like those in a fairy tale, it couldn’t stand the inevitable reality which pushes itself into every dream. Scarlett and Rhett had returned from their honeymoon and stayed in Atlanta until their home was completed. Wade heard the footsteps of the horse as the carriage pulled into the drive, announcing their arrival, and the end of his freedom. He would have to return to Atlanta with his mother, and leave the sanctity of the land he had grown to love.
“Why, Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler, my, you look pretty.” Suellen forcefully accented each last name, Scarlett wincing with each, understanding too well the context with which they were spoken.
“And Suellen, you are looking… large. Are you going to have another?” Scarlett ran her eyes over her sister’s body distastefully.
“As a matter of fact.” Suellen embraced her sister shortly, then led her and Rhett into the house. “Your children are around here somewhere. I’m sure you are just dying to see them,” Suellen clucked. Only Scarlett detected the note of sarcasm in her voice. “You will have to see what Wade has done since he has been here. He is quite the man. And Ella has begun to sleep through the night. Oh, and you just missed her first steps,” Suellen whipped her words like a viper.
Wade, wishing to escape the scene, listened further, entranced by Suellen’s sudden change in character. She was suddenly no longer the devoted wife and mother, but a lioness, teeth bared, claws unsheathed, ready to pounce. She had begun to think of Wade and Ella as one of her own, and she was willing to fight to the death at the hint of danger.
Scarlett pushed past her, ignoring what she perceived to be one of her moods, and searched the house calling her children’s names. When she finally found them, she embraced each of them weakly. “Oh, darlings, I’ve missed you so.”
Wade did not recognize the sudden change in himself, but Suellen did. As soon as Scarlett pranced through the door, Wade’s eyes became large and childlike, and his face paled as he cowered in the corner just waiting to be seen. He did not run to his mother in a welcoming embrace as her own children would have done, but stood gazing at her as though she were a precious jewel to be admired from afar. Wade only knew felt exhaustion and oppression light on his shoulders, casting a deep shadow as the sun fades away to the west.
Scarlett and Rhett toured the plantation alongside Will and Suellen, with the children trailing behind. Will pointed out the acreage that Wade had cleared during his stay, but rather than strut, Wade hung to the back, listening disinterestedly. Impressing his mother did not seem nearly as important as it had before, and his only thoughts were of Emily. He had to find a way to sneak down to the creek to tell her good-bye. He had to see her face just once more.
Finally, the family sat down to dinner. Scarlett pushed her plate of yams away, unable to stomach the sight of the post-war staple.
“Wade, you did a fine job on the back forty. I didn’t know you had it in you, boy.” Rhett smiled heartily across the table, ignoring his own plate of food.
Wade nodded, appreciative of the compliment but distracted beyond return.
“Aren’t you proud of your son?” Rhett asked, placing his hand gently on hers, demanding her attention.
“Yes. Very good,” Scarlett waved her hand disinterestedly.
Suellen slammed her hand on the table in a fury, frightening the children. “Scarlett O’Hara, how can you sit there in your fancy dress pretending to be so high and mighty? Do you not care that your son worked so hard on your land, and his only reward the calluses on his hands?”
Scarlett shifted her eyes to Suellen’s angry glare. “I’d appreciate you minding your own business, Suellen. And I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. These are my children.”
“This has been my business since you decided to bring them here and drop them into my lap.” Suellen gained courage with Scarlett’s silence. “Wade walked into this house like a whipped dog, scared and lonely. Over these past months, he has worked himself like a mule to impress you, only to be discarded like a dirty rag.”
Scarlett remained cool, though her blood boiled. “This is your last warning, Suellen. You have no right to speak and no idea what you are saying. You have not lived in my shoes, and you have no idea the burdens I have borne for you, you spoiled brat.”
“Burdens you have borne for me? What have you done for me? We are not even talking about me. We are talking about your son, and what have you done for him? You are a cheap piece of work, marrying once for spite and twice for money, stealing my beaux in the process. I don’t even care about that, I came out ahead in that one,” Suellen looked to Will, touching his sun bleached hair lightly, and smiling through her rage. “
“Then, I don’t know what you are trying to say in your jealous rant.” Scarlett stood to leave the table, but was stopped in her tracks, when she heard Suellen’s hand slam the table, again, this time knocking over a glass of water.
“I am talking about your son! Don’t you dare walk away from me.” Suellen swayed to Scarlett’s side, grabbing her arm brutally. “Your son is the one paying the price for all your stupid decisions. He is the one who wakes up nightly with nightmares. Did you know that? Did you know that he feels the responsibility of walking in your shoes without the privilege of entering your royal presence? You may not have loved his father,
but that boy is your own flesh and blood. He deserves your respect if not your love.” Saying all she had to say, she released Scarlett’s arm.
Wades’ head began to swim. His mother did not defend herself. She only stood there, dazed at Suellen’s words. She didn’t fight for his father or refute the accusation of marrying for spite. It was true! Scarlett married his father for spite! She didn’t love him at all, and she couldn’t bear to look at his face because it resembled that of his father. Wade turned, flustered by this sudden revelation, and ran for the creek, craving a just a few moments of silence to digest the sudden rush of information. He could talk about it with Emily, and he knew she could soothe and advise him.
When he reached the creek, he threw himself on the ground beneath the trees, desperately silencing his sobs which turned to hiccups. Within a few minutes, calmed and relaxed, Wade sat up, waiting for Emily. He knew she would be here any moment, and he absolutely could not leave without saying goodbye.
Hearing voices, he raised his head, realizing that he had fallen asleep waiting for Emily, and she had never come. His heart ached, knowing that Scarlett would demand that he go with her, and Emily would never know. She would never know that he had waited here for hours, and she would never know everything that was in his heart.
She did know. As Wade slept, she slipped through the trees and wiggled through the vines as silently as a young doe. Reaching down, she gently kissed his cheek without waking him then slipped quietly back into the trees, running her hand across her tear-stained cheek. She had seen Scarlett’s carriage when it pulled up, but she kept herself hidden from Wade, for she couldn’t endure another goodbye.