Tara's Forgotten Son

by Lana Mowdy

  Chapter 6

  Days and weeks passed by in a flurry, and before Wade knew what had happened, he was back at Tara. Suellen was mortified by his appearance. He had lost several pounds in the year since she had last seen him, and he walked around solemnly, as if in a trance. His eyes which usually brightened when he entered her home were lifeless and sunken. He looked as if he hadn’t slept or eaten in days. Her heart ached for this child who had suffered more tragedy in his short life than many adults had experienced in their entire lives. The unfairness tore at her heart, and she hadn’t the will to relate to him the reason for this unexpected visit. She would not be the one to tell him that his beloved Aunt Melanie had died. She was sure that it would be more than he could bear.

  Wade’s heart was broken for his world had completely fallen apart piece by piece, and unknown to anyone, he already knew of Aunt Melanie’s death. He had secretly read the telegram that Rhett had sent, and he knew in the deepest part of his soul that he was now utterly alone. Every person in his life had deserted him, and he had no idea what transgression he had committed that would bring down such wrath. In the dark corners of his mind, he was certain that God had forsaken him. He lay in his room in the darkness, unable to sleep, searching his soul for any evidence of evil, but he could find none. He curled up tightly, praying desperately for help, forgiveness, and reassurance, crying silently, without relief.

  In the aftermath of Bonnie’s death, his mother had been so tormented with grief that she had forgotten that he was in the same house, and Rhett had elapsed into drunken oblivion, so that he was no comfort at all. Ella was sad, but she was too young to comprehend the gravity of the situation. There was no look of love between Rhett and Scarlett, and although Wade had no comprehension of the word divorce, he knew that things would never be the same, and he had no desire to go back into the house of death, the Peachtree House where he had seen every one of his dreams and the people closest to him die. When he had arrived at Tara, he found that Mammy was sick, and she would die soon, as well.

  Suellen made every effort to cheer him up. She cooked his favorite meals, lavished him with praise, and encouraged him to go work in the fields with Will. She held him closely as he cried on her shoulder, but the only comfort he could find was in her soft, lulling voice as she recited the evening prayers, and he would linger as long as possible, basking in her peace.

  Not long after he had arrived at Tara, Suellen insisted that he begin working in the fields with Will. It was time to plant, and there was so much work to be done. She was seeking tactics to divert his attention from his grief and make him feel needed and loved, and she hoped that Will could give him some man to man advice.

  “You gotta let go of the past, Wade,” Will suddenly spoke as they trod slowly to the barn to hitch the horse to the plow. “I know that these past few weeks have been rough on you, and you have had to endure more suffering than other boys your age, but everything happens for a reason.”

  Wade listened half-heartedly for he had heard all of these trite expressions many times during the past couple of weeks from visitors paying their respects.

  “Look at me. What would your mother think of you wasting away?”

  Wade’s eyes blazed with anger. “I don’t really care what she thinks! She has deserted me just like my father, sister, aunt, and probably Rhett! Do you think she cares? No, and I don’t care anymore either. What is left? Who is left? Where do I get this bravery that every one talks about? It is awful easy to talk bravery about someone who is dead.” Wade spat out the words that had been afflicting his mind, and as soon as he said them, he immediately felt ashamed. He should never have let such insolent words leave his mouth.

  Will didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He continued to harness the horse, and led it out of the barn, giving Wade air to release his fuming anger. When he was sure that Wade was done, he continued, “Makes sense. So you think you will pay them back for deserting you by giving up?”

  Wade followed Will out of the barn, considering Will’s words, appreciative that he didn’t reprimand him for his outburst. “That doesn’t really hurt them, does it?” Wade questioned more to himself than to Will.

  “Not really. The way I see it, if you continue to starve yourself, deprive yourself of sleep, and dwell on things you cannot control, you are only hurting yourself. Every person that you have mentioned has chosen a destiny, but you have to choose your own.” Will continued out to the field, leading the horse silently, allowing his words to sink in.

  The rest of the morning, Wade followed behind Will as he plowed, chunking rocks to the side, clearing sticks and brush that sprang up since harvest last year, and thinking about the words that Will said. He was in charge of his own destiny. This was a new concept that had never occurred to him. Until now, he had felt controlled by events and people around him; his mother, Mammy, Rhett, and even his friends tried to tell him what to do, how to act, and who he was. They had never seen him in his true light, and they did not know him. They knew his looks, and thought that they could interpret his facial expressions, but most of the time, they were wrong. For so long, he had been labeled a fearful, downtrodden, frightened child, when deep in his heart, he knew he was none of these things, but no one had given him the opportunity to prove otherwise.

  He had recently turned eleven years old, a milestone in a boy’s life, and in his eleven years, he had seen fire, famine, sickness, and death. Not once had he taken charge, and the thought terrified him at the moment, unconvinced that he even knew what that meant or how to do it. But he did know that he had spent enough time in grief. He was still alive, and he could do something.

  Will noticed as he watched Wade work that his shoulders stood a little straighter, his eyes began to reflect the bright morning sun, and his walk became bolder. He smiled to himself, knowing Wade was on his way to cutting the apron strings and becoming a man.

  After a long day in the fields, and a hearty supper, Wade decided that he needed to spend some time with Mammy. She had helped raise him and had been a mainstay for most of his life. Now she was in her time of need, and he wanted to help her as she had helped him. Most of the time, when he sat beside her, she did not recognize him, but he held her hand and listened to her talk of the old days when his mother was a child. He learned quite a bit about his mother and was not surprised to hear of all the trouble she caused, her tantrums, and her extravagant demands. Even as Mammy relayed the details of Scarlatti’s first marriage, he listened intently for information about his father, unsurprised by long unspoken revelations and unscrupulous suspicions of Scarlett’s intentions. In spite of the occasional unpleasant conversation, he continued to visit her day after day, hoping that he was helping to provide her some relief.

  When she finally recognized him, she smiled weakly, “Oh my child, my only boy, how long have you been here?”

  Wade sighed with relief that she finally knew him. “Oh, Mammy, I have just been here a few minutes, this afternoon. I try to come every day for a little while.” He squeezed her hand gently, hoping that she would stay with him. It was not often that she was coherent, and he had waited so long to see her as she used to be, loving, nurturing, and vibrantly alive.

  “Honey child, I am going to the Lord pretty soon, but I don’t want you to be sad, baby. I want you to be happy that I finally get to lay down my heavy burdens.”

  Wade swallowed and replied, “I know Mammy.”

  Mammy closed her eyes drowsily then opened them again, and with a shallow breath she continued, “You have had heavy loads to bear too, child, but you have to keep going. You have a full life ahead of you, baby, and I see good things in your future.”

  Wade listened intently, wondering if she could truly see the future. He wanted to believe her, but doubt crept into his mind.

  “I have one more thing to tell you, baby, then I want you to leave this room, and don’t look back.” She paused, taking another breath. “I know you got reason to hate your Mama, but you g
otta forgive her. Carrying that hate inside is like carrying poison. It will eat you up. Let bygones be bygones.” Mammy paused, searching his face for understanding and agreeance.

  “Now, come give Mammy a hug. I love you, child, and don’t you forget everything I said, and don’t come back in here. You’ve had enough death, and I want you to let me go.” With that, Mammy hugged him warmly then closed her eyes.

  Wade immediately got up and followed her orders. He didn’t go back into the room with her. He said good bye as he left the room and never looked back. When he remembered her, he remembered the vivacious Mammy that ran the house like a machine, demanding excellence in her staff and in the children she raised.

  A few days later, Aunt Suellen announced that his mother would be at Tara the next day. Wade’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready to face her, yet. He wanted to escape all the pain and suffering that he had endured while he was with her, and he did not know how to cope with her overbearing character, knowing that he was in charge of choosing his own destiny. Thinking about what Mammy had said was also confusing. He didn’t think that he hated his mother. In fact, he loved her. He was afraid of her, and he was angry with the way she had treated him, and he felt a hard impenetrable shell covering his heart that was the result of his newfound freedom. Hatred was a forbidden word, and so the feeling of hatred that had subconsciously begun to take root was unperceivable.

  He hoped to stay in the fields with Will or Big Sam when she arrived, but Suellen would not allow him to remain absent. Suellen knew her sister, and she knew that Wade could not afford any more strikes against his character or actions. She insisted that he come to the house while Will was bringing her from the train station in Jonesboro, clean up, and meet her at the door. Wade reluctantly obeyed, but hid behind Suellen’s skirts, hoping to flee as quickly as possible, and silently praying that he would not have to return to Atlanta with her.

  Suddenly, he realized that in his self-pity, he had completely forgotten the one person that he longed to see while at Tara. He had spent so much time mourning his losses that he had not given thought to Emily, and he had an intense urge to be with her, holding her hand, and talking. As soon as greetings were done and Scarlett had rushed to see Mammy, Wade ran through the back door, through the fields, and to Emily.

  As he stepped through the undergrowth, waving his arms through wild honeysuckle vines that had grown in his absence, he spotted Emily wading through the creek, fishing for crawdads with a bit of pork fat tied on a string. He watched her carefully dangle the string in the water until a crawdad crawled carefully out of his hole in the bank and onto the pork fat. When she was satisfied that he was hanging on tightly, she would gently lift the string out of the water and drop him in her bucket. Wade was amazed that the creature did not let go as soon as he was lifted from the water, and he watched her perform these steps countless times, until she had enough crawdads for a sufficient meal.

  She had been concentrating so hard, that she had not heard his footsteps or felt his presence when he had arrived, and she rose, slightly embarrassed. He ran to her, expecting a long embrace, but stopped short when she lowered her eyes, avoiding his eyes. As soon as she saw him, she realized that she was almost twelve years old, now, but she was still wading through the creek, barefoot in her cotton dress, and whereas it had never crossed her mind before, she suddenly felt indecent, as though she should be dressed more elegantly. She knew that he had come from Atlanta, and in her mind Atlanta was a big city where everyone wore fine clothes and extravagances. She had seen his mother on the road to Tara, and she looked magnificent in her brightly colored layers of cloth, matching parasol, and high leather shoes. She had never owned anything so fine, and she couldn’t imagine Wade wanting anything less.

  Wade could not fathom what had changed between them. He had never seen her face flush with embarrassment, and he fidgeted with a leaf he plucked from a tree overhead. He studied her closely, trying to see what had changed. He had been gone for quite some time, it occurred to him that possibly she had grown up so much that she was not interested in him anymore, or maybe she was angry with him about something. Remembering that he had vowed never to allow pride to interfere with a relationship, he decided he would ask.

  “What is the matter, Emily? Are you angry with me?” He waited patiently for an answer, but when she didn’t respond, he continued, “Have you outgrown me? Are you too old to talk with me?”

  She didn’t answer. She just hung her head, screaming silently, “No, No!” She didn’t dare speak for fear that she would cry. She wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t bring herself to humiliate herself by pointing out her flaws, so she chose to remain silent. He tried to reach out to her, but she jerked away and ran from him as he stared after her, dumbfounded.

  Wade stumbled blindly back to the house, trying to see through his tears and wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He certainly could not show weakness in front of his mother. When he had reached the house and still had not stopped his hiccups, he walked around the fields for a few minutes, picturing Emily in his mind, bewildered at her sudden change in behavior. He sat in the freshly plowed field, filtering the warm, red dirt through his fingers, crying unreservedly until he was convinced that he could produce no more tears. Drawing a deep breath, he rose and dusted off his pants, then exhaled, releasing each point of unpleasantness from his mind. He walked back to the house, slowly, gaining the courage to meet his mother again.

  Fortunately, over the next three weeks, he did not have to face Scarlett. She spent every moment in the sick room with Mammy, emerging only to eat a bite now and then or to rest when it was absolutely necessary. When she was in the same room with him, he was exceedingly polite, not wishing to incite her anger. He had no need to worry, though because she didn’t see him. She would stare blankly in his direction, but she didn’t distinguish any one person from another. She was so distraught with the events of the last six months and Mammy’s impending death that she could not think of anything else. She was exhausted and frantic with worry, but she didn’t see any relief in sight; and in her usual manner, she was centered on her own grief, unaware that anyone else could feel any pain.

  Wade stayed out of Mammy’s room just as she had commanded, and he was rather relieved that he would not have to see her waste away in the last days, nor would he have to be in the same room as his mother. He worried that his mother would insist that they return to Atlanta, but he pushed this thought from his mind and concentrated on the fields.

  Everyday, he, Will, and Big Sam trudged out to the fields. The cotton was planted, but there was still work to be done. The rest of the fields had to be plowed, and the weeds had to be cleared. Plowing was hard, tedious work for they only had one plow, pulled by an elderly horse. The ground was dry and hard, and every few feet, rocks, brush, and weeds had to be gathered and taken out. After the seed was sown and covered meticulously by hand, prayer for rain began as they hauled water to the fields, deliberately saturating every inch of land.

  As Wade worked in the field, he felt sweat pouring from his body, drenching his shirt, making the dirt stick to him as it thickly drifted through the hot, dry air. He loved the feel of the dirt, the smell of the land, and the feel of his muscles beginning to form under his too small shirt. This was his land, and he felt the pride of hard work swell in his heart as the sun beat on his back, lightening his dark hair, which was beginning to curl on his neck as it lengthened.

  Hearing the sound of horse’s hooves galloping on the drive to Tara, he looked up to see a dark haired man racing to the doorstep. He was too far away to recognize his facial features. Wade was curious about the visitor, and as he looked closer, the man looked increasingly familiar. As the man leapt up the steps, Wade immediately recognized his stride. It was Rhett! Rhett had come to Tara. That must mean that things were going to be okay with him and Scarlett. He must be here to make amends, and then things would be wonderful again! He would have his step-father back. They would go riding,
Wade would show him the work he had done on the land, and maybe he could tell him how to win Emily’s heart again, for Rhett knew all about those things. Finally, he could be happy.

  Wade raced to the house, stumbling over clods of dirt that had not been removed, and rocks that had not been cleared. He bound up the steps, throwing open the back door, calling Rhett’s name. Searching through the house, smiling broadly, he ran into Suellen. Barely containing himself, he rushed into her arms yelling loudly, “Rhett is here! Where is he?” Stunned by Wade’s jubilance, she looked at him wide-eyed then sadly shook her head.

  His face changed from delight to alarm as he pulled from her hastily and continued to run through the house. He burst through the front door to see the dark haired stranger riding back down the drive from whence he had come with his coat tail flying behind him. Looking around, he saw his mother’s back, straightened with resentment as she stared after Rhett.

  Wade felt his stomach drop as he realized that Rhett had not even tried to find him. He had come to Tara and left just as suddenly as he came. He found later that he had come only to see Mammy, and as soon as he had made his fallacious promises to her in her last moments on earth, he left without saying goodbye.

  His disappointment did not affect him as usual this time. Typically, he would become angry and hurt. He would cry himself to sleep and turn his hatred inward, reproaching himself for some unknown depravity that he must have unwittingly committed. This time was different, somehow. He was angry, but not at himself. He did not get upset, but rather took a deep breath, straightened his jaw, and went back to work. The crust around his heart, consisting of hurt and disappointment was slowly and subconsciously turning to bitterness. The hatred that had been foreign in its definition was thriving deep inside him. He did not recognize what he was experiencing, but he welcomed the relief of feeling nothing as his heart grew harder by the day.

  He stood begrudgingly at Mammy’s graveside during the hastily planned, improper funeral. He did not want to be here and was trying desperately to find a way to escape. Mammy had not wanted him here. She had said as much, and he refused to pay attention or participate in the service no matter what his mother said. As soon as the funeral was over, he ran up to him room and stayed there until all of the guests were gone, avoiding visitors with their trite sayings, offered to ease pain which he did not welcome or want. He had already said his goodbyes to Mammy, and he lay there on his bed, remembering her strength and the last words she had spoken to him. After he had savored the pleasant memories, gaining power from them, his mind began to wander, wondering if he would soon be going back to Atlanta.

  The next day he unwittingly slept late, and climbed from his bed with a soreness penetrating his body, as if he had tossed and turned all night. He tentatively dressed and tried to remember sleeping, but the last thing he remembered was thinking of Emily and wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking of him, and if she missed him like he missed her. Slowly, he descended the stairs, but stopped short hearing his mother and Suellen carrying on a pleasant conversation. He heard the sweetness in Scarlett’s voice and immediately knew that she must be calculating some underhanded scheme. She wanted something, and she wanted it badly enough to be pleasant to Suellen, speaking with her in a voice dripping with sugar and sarcasm that only Wade could interpret.

  He knelt close to the floor, unseen, and listened closely. His mother was offering Suellen money to keep him and Ella at Tara. He couldn’t believe his ears and had to grasp the wall tightly to keep from losing his balance. His mother did not want him anymore than he wanted her. It did not even occur to him to be offended. He was too ecstatic. He would not be returning to Atlanta, but he would remain at Tara. He would get to help Will, and would get to see the harvest, reaping the rewards of his hard work. Relief flooded through him, making him dizzy with delight and liberation. He was finally free from Atlanta and all the darkness that was associated with the city, his family, and their dwelling.

  He finally finished walking down to the dining room and took his seat, acting as though he knew nothing, smirking inwardly in his victory, but smiling pleasantly at the mother he soon would be rid of.

  Scarlett’s departure was delayed when Beatrice Tarleton, an old friend, raced up the road on her favorite mare, announcing that Tony Fontaine had returned from Texas. The entire countryside was elated to see him return, and the next couple days were filled with lovely dinners, visiting neighbors, and laughter ringing through the halls. To see a young beau from pre-war days incited tales of parties, dances, and barbeques that were unfathomable to Wade, for he had experienced none of it, but the stories were enticing and the exhilaration in the air was contagious, and he immersed himself in the delightful pleasantries which enveloped the county.

  Wade was extremely nervous when he finally got the opportunity to visit the Fontaine’s plantation, Mimosa. He knew that somewhere on the large plantation, Emily was working, gathering food and caring for her large, loving family. He secretly hoped that he would catch a glimpse of her, but was relieved when they arrived and she was nowhere to be seen. He had no idea what he would say to her if he saw her, and he didn’t know if he could live through her attitude of indifference.

  What he found at the Fontaine plantation was absolutely incredible. He watched Tony twirl his six shooters like a true Texas Ranger, and couldn’t wait until Tony had time to teach him to do the same. Tony was a tall, swarthy man with high-heeled boots, a tall hat, and an ornery gleam in his eye. He had come back to help his brother work on the plantation, and though he knew nothing about farming, he kept the countryside entertained with tales of Texas and his gun tricks. He promised Wade to teach him how to ride and shoot like a Texan. Wade was enthralled with the idea, and Tony was proud to be idolized by this young boy in need of a father figure.