Ghost on Black Mountain (16 page)

L
ike I said, the summer after Mama died women won the vote, and boy did that set Asheville ladies to singing. I was too sick at heart to care. So it took me until the 1924 presidential election before I wanted to use my right and cast my vote. Owen finally agreed but I could tell he didn’t like the thought one bit. Three-year-old Nellie was our common thread, our reason to smile at each other sometimes.

“Why do we want to take a child with us to vote? Miz Marks said she’d watch her. Voting ain’t no place for a little girl.” Owen spoke around his chewing tobacco that he’d taken to using.

This was one time I intended to have my way. “She’s going to watch her mama vote for the first time. I want it to stick in her head; otherwise she’s liable to forget how many women fought for this right. We worked hard.”

Owen spit out the back door. “You didn’t work at nothing.”

Owen was wrong. I had attended me one meeting of the North Carolina Equal Suffrage League. Those women were
serious about getting the vote and a lot more. Mama took me. It was a side of Mama I didn’t know. She believed in women standing up for themselves.

“It’s important to me Nellie goes.” I looked him dead in the eye.

“Oh, what the hell. I ain’t standing here and arguing with you. You take her with you. Voting ain’t some woman’s parlor game.”

I wanted to point out it was his first time ever bothering to vote. Ain’t that the way it went. Some folks wanted a right so bad while others had the privilege and never used it.

The courthouse had a line running down the stairs. It seemed I wasn’t the only woman who took my voting serious. There were more women waiting than men. My vote was going for President Coolidge. He’d done a fine job since he took over for the late President Harding. As we worked our way to the voting booth, Owen took me by the elbow. Sweet little Nellie held my hand and flashed a smile at me. “What we doing, Mama?”

I squeezed her hand. “We’re doing something mighty fine, Miss Nellie. We’re exercising our voice.”

Owen huffed and whispered in my ear. “Now, when we get there, Josie, you make your vote for John W. Davis.”

For a minute I stopped following the line and looked at him. “What?”

“Keep walking.” As I obeyed him, he spoke louder. “I ain’t having no wife of mine shaming me by voting for a Republican.”

A couple of women ahead of me looked back with sympathy. God help us women. We lived in a free country but couldn’t do what we wanted. Nobody was telling Owen how to vote. But none of this came out of my mouth. I should have shouted my thoughts from the highest tree, but instead I said one word: “Why?”

He cut a look down at Nellie and then at me. “Because John W. Davis is from West Virginia, Josie. Do I have to spell it out for you? You ain’t got enough sense not to vote Republican.”

I stared at him like he had three eyes.

“Mr. Davis is from the South. Everyone knows it’s time to have someone from the South become president. You understand that?”

I pulled Nellie in front of me and kept moving up them steps right into the courthouse. I had every intention of voting for who I wanted. He wasn’t stealing my wish.

Mrs. Vera Jones nodded for me to take my ballot to the open booth.

“Remember what I said,” Owen said, loud enough for all to hear.

When Vera placed the paper ballot in my hand, she smiled. “Make your choice, Josie.”

And that’s exactly what I marched off to do. Then I noticed Lyle Hamby taking the ballots when folks were finished. Lyle and Owen worked together. They did some drinking together too. Nellie and me went into our booth. I inserted the ballot and stared at the machine. I almost wished I’d stayed home. What kind of fool was I? A law wasn’t going to change one dern thing for us. I lived in North Carolina. President Coolidge’s name came first on the ballot.

“Mama?” Nellie tugged on my skirt.

“Wait, sweetie. I got to think.” The thin black curtain was nothing, no protection at all. My courage drained right out of my feet. Owen would know before I got home if I didn’t vote the way he told me.

“Mama, are you going to do what Daddy told you?” Nellie had a worried look on her face. Lord in heaven, I’d taught her how to bow down to men.

I squatted in front of her and whispered, “Nellie bird, when
you grow up, you don’t have to do what any man tells you to do. Okay?”

She looked at me with her big brown eyes.

“Promise?”

“Okay, Mama.” She smiled.

“Good.”

I stood and made my vote for President Coolidge. “And Nellie, I did exactly what I wanted to do, not what Daddy wanted me to do.”

Owen stood by Lyle. I held Nellie’s hand tight and marched over to the table. Lyle stopped talking when I pushed my ballot at him. Owen didn’t say a word. He was so sure of himself, so positive I’d never go against him and follow my own mind. It was a shame I couldn’t tell him.

“I can’t take that, Josie.” Lyle smirked.

My head spun.

Owen puffed. “You got to fold it yourself and put it through the slot.” He looked at Lyle. “And they gave them the vote.”

And Owen never knew I went against him. But I always had it planted away in my thoughts. I went against him and followed my heart.

Twenty-six

O
wen Clay was a man to be reckoned with. The year Nellie turned eight he decided we was taking a trip to his hometown. I don’t know how that bee got in his bonnet but it did and there wasn’t no talking him out of it.

“Owen, that’s a long way to drive.”

“I’m driving and you’re going, nothing to worry on.” He never looked up from his newspaper at the kitchen table.

Nellie had her hands in dough, doing her best to make her own biscuits. She was doing pretty good for her first try. “We could take a train.” Nellie smiled.

“Sorry, sweetie, the train only goes as far as Savannah. Darien is another sixty-something miles down the coast. We got to drive. You’ll like it.”

Nellie nodded.

“What are you doing over there, anyway?” Owen’s voice always went soft when he spoke to our girl. This made our marriage worth all the ins and outs.

“I’m learning to make biscuits like Mama’s.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll have one of those when you’re finished.”

Nellie laughed. Both Owen and me smiled at the same time.

“Why you so afraid of this trip, Josie? We’re going to spend the night in Atlanta, stay in a fancy hotel. You’ll get to see the city.”

“I’m not afraid.” I said this sharply and knew that’s exactly what was wrong. I was scared to death.

“We’ll have us a good time.” He opened his newspaper and began to read again.

I never had left the state of North Carolina. Shoot, I’d never been past Asheville’s city limits.

We set out in the old Buick for what seemed like another country. Who in the world had heard of Darien, Georgia?

“Tell me about the ocean, Daddy.” Nellie wore a wide-brim straw hat with a yellow ribbon. Her dress was the prettiest butter-colored check with a full skirt.

Owen smiled as he watched the road. “It’s the biggest body of water you’ll ever see.” He seemed to move away from us into his own world. “Once you hear the ocean, the sound will stay in your head. It will visit you when you’re low and need some help. The ocean is living and breathing.”

“I can’t wait, Daddy. Drive fast.”

“But you got to remember Darien is inland. It’s on the Altamaha. All around you will be marsh, and the smell of salt is the best smell in the whole world.” He gave a little shiver.

“What’s the Altamaha, Daddy?” Nellie wiggled in her seat with excitement.

“That’s a mighty river, girl. It takes the fishermen out to the sea each morning and brings them home each night. It’s like
this here highway, except for boats. Darien is a fishing town and has been forever. The sea is in everyone’s blood.”

“Were you a fisherman?” Nellie was finding out more than I knew about her father.

“Should have been, Nellie bird. My daddy was a fisherman, but when he died at sea, Mama never got over it. She even let the bank have his boat for next to nothing. She told me if I ever went to sea, she’d make me leave home. I did and she did what she threatened. That’s how I ended up in Asheville.”

Nellie was quiet.

“So, you just stopped fishing?” How could he have kept this from me?

“Everybody thought I was jinxed. It was pure stupidity.” He glared at the road and his knuckles turned white because he was gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“Why was it stupid?” Nellie sang out.

Owen’s face softened. “Fishermen believe in signs and such. Shoot, they believe in ghosts.” He cut a look at me. “We know there ain’t no such things, but they are ignorant and believe.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, after all was said and done, I came to Asheville.” He had relaxed.

“I can smell the salt.” Nellie cheered.

Owen laughed. “You keep on smelling that salt. It will take you places. Darien is the best place I know.”

The first time I saw the tall buildings I couldn’t believe they were real. They stood off in the distance like some pencil drawing on what seemed to be the edge of the world. We’d been riding so long my legs were numb.

“That’s Atlanta.” Owen said this in a quiet way.

Nellie sat up straighter. “Look at how big the buildings are, Mama.”

“We’re going to stay there?” I nodded at the city.

Owen never looked at me. “Yes ma’am. We’re going to stay at the Georgian Terrace. That’s one of the fanciest hotels in Atlanta.”

“A hotel?” Nellie said in wonder.

“A fine hotel,” Owen laughed.

My fears were lost in his laughter.

I’d never in my whole life stayed somewhere as fancy. Our room had the softest and best-smelling cotton sheets. When Owen went into the bathroom to clean up, Nellie and me rolled around on the bed just to feel how it bounced.

We had dinner in the restaurant downstairs. The tables were covered with white linen and the napkin rings were real silver.

“Daddy, can we live here?” Nellie had a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Her face glowed in the soft candlelight. Lord, it was almost like the honeymoon me and Owen never thought of having. And of course Nellie was along.

“Wait till we get to Darien, honeybee. That’s where you’ll want to live, both of you.” He smiled. “It’s in your blood, Nellie. You’ll know as soon as we drive into town.” Owen took a big bite of his steak.

“How far is Darien from here?” My chicken pot pie melted in my mouth.

“It’s about six or seven hours.” Owen winked at Nellie.

I tried not to let the air out of my lungs in a huff. “How in the world did you ever find your way up to Asheville?”

“Looking for dry land, Josie.”

Nellie looked like a princess at the fancy table. She was meant to have fine things. A cold chill walked up my arms, but I didn’t pay it a bit of attention. We were having a fine time.

Twenty-seven

W
e drove into Darien before the sun went down the next day. Owen took us over the big river and straight to the dock, where the shrimp boats were lined up for the night. The air smelled like salt, tangy and sharp. Nellie jumped from the car as soon as it stopped and ran to the edge of the dock.

“Careful now, there are gators in these waters.” Owen put some chewing tobacco in his lip.

“Where are we staying?” I heard a little splash and looked in time to see a small alligator slide off a log into the brownish river.

“I told you there were gators,” he said to Nellie.

She clapped her hands and bounced up and down on her toes. “Look, Mama.”

Owen nodded to a worn house in the bend of the river not far from where we stood. “That’s the old homeplace where I grew up. My daddy was born there.” He pulled a key out of his pocket and showed it to me.

“You’ve had this place all the time we’ve been married?”

He frowned. “Yep. Don’t start making this a problem, Josie.”

“Why are we here?” All of a sudden I understood this trip was much bigger than showing me and Nellie where he grew up.