Bent Creek (6 page)

Now that Grandpa Abe was gone, Roy decided to move his family into his father’s house.  It had one more room than their own, a watertight roof and the porch was still attached to the house. So the day after his funeral, the Riley family packed their belongings in the wagon and drove the mile and a half to their new home—a run-down shanty just a tad bit better than their own.

Most of Grandpa Abe’s things had to be thrown out. They smelled of mildew and were almost too dirty to get clean. Ida Mae and Rachael packed up all the old blankets and bed sheets and took them outside. They swept all the floors and turned the mattresses.
They hadn’t brought much with them but within a few days Ida Mae had the cabin looking as decent as she could with her old furniture and newspaper covering the walls.

When Ida Mae found eleven dollars in a Mason jar under the sink she breathed a sigh of relief.  It wasn’t much, but along with Grandpa Abe’s guns that they could sell maybe they could make it to spring.

Moving into Grandpa Abe’s cabin also came with the awareness that for the first time in their lives they had neighbors living just a few hundred feet away from them. The house next to Grandpa Abe had been vacant for sometime before the Haines family moved in.  It was little more than a frame with boards nailed on in every direction.  In the first few days in their new home, Rachael counted over ten people living in the house next door and there was probably more that she hadn’t seen. They were a rowdy bunch that had covered all the windows with bright colored rugs to keep the cold out.  She and Emma Jane were fascinated with the idea that when they were outside in the yard they could hear people singing and sometimes shouting at each other. No one from the Haines family made any move to come over and talk to them and Ida Mae said to leave well enough alone. She didn’t need any company and they were nothing but a band of gypsies. But Emma Jane’s curi
osity finally paid off, when after lingering in the yard for over two hours she met Jimmy Dell Haines.  He was seventeen and Emma Jane thought he was the cutest boy she had ever seen.

“Rachael you go outside and holler fer Emma Jane. It’s suppertime. I reckon she’s over at the Haines agin,” Ida Mae said.

Rachael stepped outside the door and yelled for her sister. She waited a few minutes and then called again.  Rachael had never been in the Haines’ house, but Emma Jane spent most of her free time with them. Emma Jane came running from the run-down barn in the back of the property.  Jimmy Dell was right behind her.

“I swear, Emma Jane, straighten yer dress and get the hay out of yer hair. What have you and Jimmy Dell been doin’?”

“Nothin’, jest sittin’ out back talkin’.  Don’t tell mama.” She ran ahead of Rachael and bounded up the porch steps.

Rachael positioned her hands on her hips.  “You best stay away from mah sister, Jimmy Dell. Mah pap finds you snif
fin’ around her he’s likely to knock yer head clean off.”

Jimmy Dell threw his head back and laughed.  “I’d like tah git mah hands on you,
girl. Whadda ya say me and you go out tah the barn?”

“You best better keep yer distance, Jimmy Dell or I’ll tell mah pa fer sure.” He spit on the ground and walked away.

Roy shoved half a biscuit in his mouth and licked the gravy off of his fingers. “Yer mama tells me you been goin’ over tah them gypsies house and she can’t never find ya, Emma Jane. That true?” he asked.

“Tah begin with, I don’t know why you call them gypsies. They ain’t gypsies, thar migrant workers. Thar jest waitin’ fer the tobaccy plantin’ tah begin and then they’ll all be workin’. Sides, I like havin’ friends,” Emma Jane said.

“Migrants, gypsies, same thang. Ain’t no tobaccy plan-tin’ round here til spring.  They ain’t got no right squattin’ in that house. Alls they do is drink and raise hell.  You stay away from them, ya heer. I don’t want no daughter of mine gettin’ a bad name or somethin’ worse from them people. I ketch you over thar agin I’m gonna whop yer ass.”  Roy was done talking and there was no arguing with him.  All the kids knew that.

After supper while the girls cleaned up the kitchen, Emma Jane hummed to herself as she put the dishes in the wash pan.

“What are you so happy about?  You best be careful messin’ with that Jimmy Dell.  He ain’t no kid. He’s been around, if you know what I mean,” Rachael said.

“Them people are fun tah be around. They laugh and play music and have a good time. They don’t sit around moanin’ all the time like everybody in this house. They make the best of a bad time. And besides I really like Jimmy Dell. Why is everybody always bad mouthin’ the Haines?”

“Most everybody around these parts agrees with Pa. They say people like the Haines just roam around and squat where ever they find an empty house. They make thar livin’ by stealin’ and cheatin’ people outta
thar money,” Rachael said.

“That’s stupid.
Who around here has anythin’ ta steal? I’m tellin’ you thar migrants,” Emma Jane replied in an angry tone. “Sides, Jimmy Dell thinks I’m cute and I like him.”

“If they ain’t gypsies ho
w come those men go away in thar trucks for a couply days and come back with food.  I bet they steal it. They steal from poor folks like us.  None of them got jobs,” Rachael said in a commanding tone. “And how come so many of them live in one house?  I bet thars neigh on tah fifteen of them squattin’ in that house.”

Emma Jane stomped her foot.  “Well, none of us got jobs, so what does that make us?  I ain’t gonna argy about this any more. I get real tired of stayin’ in this house every night lis
tenin’ tah mama read the bible. I know it by heart and it sure ain’t done us much good. Daddy sits around waitin’ on the mine tah open and Jesse is off huntin’ all the time or hidin’ from daddy tah keep from doin’ any chores.  Least wise the Haines have good food once in a while.” Emma Jane threw down the towel. “Besides it ain’t any of yer call how they make thar money. Quit askin’ me so many questions.” She grabbed her coat off the hook on the wall and went outside slamming the door behind her. Rachael knew where she was going.

Two months later, on a snowy Sunday the Rileys returned from church to find the house the Haines had occupied empty. Emma Jane jumped down from the wagon.  A look of surprise crossed her face.  The door to the shanty was open and the few remaining panes of glass had been removed from the windows. She ran to the door and peered inside. Only a few pieces of broken furniture remained. Tears welled up in her eyes and she leapt from the porch and hurried to her own house. “Now, what’s gotten into her all of a sudden?” Roy said.  “I’m damn glad thar gone. I kin sleep better at night now. I knew’d they wuz gypsies. Thar off and runnin’ agin.”

Emma Jane was lying across her bed when Rachael walked in. Rachael kicked off her shoes and pulled her Sunday dress over her head.  Sitting down on the bed, she tugged on her denim pants. “I’m sorry, Emma Jane, I know you liked Jimmy Dell, but that boy was jest plain bad news. You’ll get over him. You kin do much better than him.”

Emma Jane’s head was buried in her pillow.  “You don’t understand,” she said in a muffled voice.  “Jimmy Dell knew his family was thinkin’ bout leavin’, but he said when his fam
ily left he would stay behind and be with me.  He lied tah me. God, what am I gonna do? I’m expectin’, Rachael.  I done missed mah second monthly and my titties are gettin’ real sore. Pa is gonna kill me when he finds out.  I will be yer dead sister, Emma Jane.”

Rachael’s mouth dropped open. “Pregnant. You had done let yerself get pregnant! Damn. Emma Jane, yer so right, Pa is gonna kill you. I didn’t know you and
Jimmy Dell were doin’ it. I thought you was just messin’ around.”

Emma Jane sat up and rubbed her nose.  “We only did it twice out back in the barn. The first time it hurt real bad and so he talked me into doin’ it agin tah show me it wouldn’t hurt the second time. But it did. He said he loved me a whole lot and that I was his woman. What am I gonna do?”

“You ain’t got a choice, Emma Jane, you have tah tell ma and pa and the sooner the better, if you ask me.”

It took Emma Jane another month before she got the courage to tell her parents. Her stomach was starting to protrude and she got tired of wearing her coat in the house to hide the bump. Her mother cried and her father slapped her across the face. “Now see what you gone and done.  Yer gonna bring a bastard child into this family and worse yet a bastard child of a damn gypsy. I’m gonna go after the little sumbitch and make him come back and marry ya proper like. Thang is I ain’t got no idée what direction the Haines went when they left. Maybe I’ll jest call the sheriff and let him deal with them people.”

Emma Jane cried until her eyes were almost swollen shut. She begged her father not to call the law.  She said she didn’t want to have a baby. After a few days her father stopped his ranting and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be a grandpa to his sixteen-year-old daughter’s bastard child.

Chapter Eight

Rachael sat by the stove drying a pair of socks she had washed in the sink. It was cold and damp in the house with the rain dripping into four buckets placed on the kitchen floor. Spring was in full force and soon the daffodils and hyacinth that grew along the road would be popping up their sleepy heads. The creek in back of the house would once again be full of crawdads and turtles. It was good not to shiver all the time.

She heard her father and Jesse outside talking loudly. They had just returned from fishing.  Her father burst into the room. “Rachael, whars yer ma. I need her right quick! I got news.” He laid a string of six catfish on the table. “Whar is she?”

“She’s out back with Emma Jane. Thar cleanin’ out the cow’s stall. What’s the news, Daddy?”

“Thars some men at the mine.  Company men all dressed up in suits and th
ar’s a whole line of trucks comin’ into town. By cracky, that mine is gonna be fixed and up and runnin’ real soon. Hot damn, I know’d if’n we waited long enough them sumbitches would come round tah our way of thinkin’. Tell yer ma that I’ll be back a fore dark.  I got to see fer myself what’s goin’ on.”

It was the first time Rachael had seen her father smile in a long time. Rachael breathed a sigh of relief.  If her father went back to work she could leave.  There would be enough money coming in to take care of the rest of the family and she could finally tell her parents that she was leaving Bent Creek. She had no idea where she was going, or where she would get the money to get there, but she was leaving.  She watched her father go down the road in his rickety, old wagon. She prayed he was right and the mine was going to reopen, even though she knew the dangers.

Roy pulled up in front of the Mabry’s.  The road was crammed with trucks and wagons. He shook off his hat and entered the room already crowded with other men from the mine. He nodded to a few he knew and pushed his way closer to the stove. Holding his hands out to warm them, he grinned. “Good news, ain’t it?” he said out loud. A burly man standing next to him spat a wad of tobacco into the spittoon, nearly miss
ing Roy’s foot. “What’s yer beef, Riley?  I thought you waz lookin’ forward tah goin’ back tah’ work?  Why you so happy that the mine is closin’ for good?”

“Whoa, hold on,” Roy said. “I thought them men were here tah tell us that the mine was gonna open.  Why’d they bring all them trucks? Ain’t all that equipment tah fix the shafts?”

“Naw,” the man replied. “Them trucks are takin’ away everythin’ that wuz left behind. The others are here tah come up and give us all our walkin’ papers.  The mine is closed for good. Those bastards don’t care one bit that we kin sit up here and starve tah death. I hate them bastards.”  There was a loud grumble that filled the room.

When the men from the mining company finally came up to the main street, it was already getting dark and rain was still pelting down. Protected by four of the truck drivers the two men who entered the store tried to explain to the angry crowd that after a thorough inspection they found that the mine was just too dangerous to reopen. It was going to be condemned and dynamited shut the following week.  Every man who worked there would get a check for twenty dollars just to show the goodwill of the company. The company men turned and left quickly as a roar of discontent rumbled through the throng.

By nine o’clock that night, Ida Mae was wringing her hands with worry. She paced back and forth across the room, looking out the window and then the door.  She was sure that some harm had come to Roy. He would never stay away this long, especially if he had good news.  “I know’d somethin’s done gone wrong. Maybe he’s somewhars on the road hurt. Maybe that old mule stepped in a hole in all this rain.  I’m gonna go look for him.”

Before anyone could object there were sounds of foot
steps on the porch. Ida Mae opened the door and Roy fell in. He reeked of corn liquor and could barely keep his balance.  He staggered across the kitchen and plopped down in a chair, muddy water dripping from his boots.

“Roy Riley, whar you been? I swear I been half sick with worry and you come home all lickered up. I wuz jest get-tin’ ready tah send the boys out to look fer you.”

Roy held up his hand. “Don’t you go lecturin’ me woman. I had enough lecturin’ for one day.  Ain’t no good news. The mine is closed for good.  Strike or no strike, them bastards closed it down. So…what do you think of that?”  He let out a loud belch. “I guess we better think up somethin’ tah make some money this year.  If’n I had enuf money I’d open a sawmill. Yes sir, that’s what I’d do. Can’t do that with the skinny money they be given us for all them years of bustin’ our asses for them. Twenty measly dollars.”