Lily of the Springs (7 page)

Mother gave no indication she’d heard me come in. I stood there a moment, hesitating. Should I announce my presence? Or just slip upstairs and pretend I’d been there all along? But that wouldn’t work. Surely, they’d already noticed I was gone.

I opened my mouth to speak, but just as I did so, a muffled sob came from the kitchen. Mother showed no reaction to the noise, but just kept rocking.

Like an approaching storm, dread swept through my soul. I didn’t worry about being quiet as I headed for the kitchen. The clacking of my high heels on the wood floorboard announced my presence and four pairs of eyes looked up at me as I stopped in the threshold. I stared, my stomach churning.

Norry, Edsel and Landry sat at the oval oak kitchen table, the boys sipping cups of steaming coffee. A full glass of buttermilk rested, apparently ignored, in front of Norry. At her side stood Sylvie Lou Blankenship, dressed in a floor-length nightgown under a girlish pink robe, her graying hair in pin curls and covered with a net. Her liver-spotted hand rested on Norry’s slight shoulder. Tears tracked down my sister’s white face. Landry looked like death, his face graver than I’d ever seen. Even happy-go-lucky Edsel looked like a ghost with his freckles glaring from his bloodless face like red ants on a piece of white bread.

My throat was so dry, I could barely move my lips. “What’s wrong?” I finally croaked.

Sylvie Lou looked flustered. “Honey, you’d better sit down now. Let me pour you a cup of coffee. I just made it, and it’s piping hot.”

My gaze flew from the older woman to Norry, then to my brothers. “What’s happened?”

Norry’s eyes welled with fresh tears. “Charles Alton
passed away
, Lily Rae!” She burst into uncontrolled sobs, burying her face in her trembling hands.

“Now, now,” Sylvie Lou said helplessly, patting her shoulder. “Remember what I just told you. He’s with Jesus now. Little Charles Alton is in Jesus’ loving arms.”

I stared at my siblings, feeling as if a wooden beam had been rammed into my belly. Landry met my gaze, then looked away, his jaw trembling. A tear rolled down Edsel’s round cheek.

“But that can’t
be
,” I protested as the full impact of Norry’s words hit me. “I just saw him out there with Mother. She’s rocking him. He’s sleeping.”

Norry cried harder. Landry got up and strode into the pantry and out the back door. The screen door slammed behind him, reverberating through the kitchen. Edsel chewed on his thumbnail as another fat tear rolled down his face.

My frantic gaze darted from Norry to Edsel and back to Sylvie Lou. “
Tell
me he’s sleeping!”
Sylvie Lou slowly shook her head. Her eyelids were red, I noticed for the first time. “I’m sorry, Lily Rae. Your mama is out there saying her goodbyes to the poor little youngun. It happened up in Louieville, and there wasn’t a thing in the world the doctors could do for him, though they tried everything they could. In the end, all they could do was to let your mama and daddy bring home his poor little body for burial. God bless his tiny soul.” She bowed her head and wiped a tear from her wrinkled face.

I stood with my mouth ajar, my brain whirling as I tried to digest the old woman’s words. “But…” I finally tried to speak. “I don’t understand…how…
what
was wrong with him? He wasn’t…that sick, was he?”

Slowly, the elderly woman raised her head and looked at me with cloudy blue eyes. Then she said the word that sent chills knifing through my heart.

“Polio, child. Your baby brother had polio.”

I
threw back the single cotton sheet that covered me and sat up on the edge of the bed, running a hand through the damp hair clinging to the nape of my neck. Drat these hot August nights! My hair was so wet I might as well have just come out of the old swimming hole on Tucker Creek. In fact, my whole body felt like an old wet washrag. Lord above, would this hot spell ever break?

Light-headedness washed over me as I got out of bed.
Dadblasted heat!
I stood still until my vision cleared, then tip-toed across the plank floors, still warm from the day’s heat. Lord, it was going to feel good when autumn got here. Except when that happened, I wouldn’t be here.

A stab of fear shot through my stomach, but I forced myself to push it away. Six weeks, I told myself.
It’s only for six weeks
. I quietly went down the stairs, being careful not to put my weight on the fourth step from the bottom—the one that creaked. Since I couldn’t sleep, I might as well go sit out on the porch for a spell. At least it would be cooler out there.

Maybe I’d even venture down to the pond. Say goodbye to my favorite place in all of Russell County. The moon was so bright I’d be able to clearly see my way down there. It had been some time since I’d sat out on the wharf, my feet dangling in the cool water, gazing up at the heavens—all the millions and trillions of stars that looked so close, it felt like you could just reach out and grab a whole handful. It would be cool out there, and right peaceful with all the night sounds—an occasional croak of a bullfrog and the musical chirping of the crickets. It was a God-like place, I thought, and I’d always secretly believed that if a soul was looking for God, it was more likely He could be found right there on that lily-covered pond, rather than down the road a-piece at the Baptist Church. But I’d never say that out loud, of course. Some folks would probably think that was blasphemous.

Then again, what did
I
know? My cheeks grew hot as I thought about what me and Jake had been doing all summer. No two ways about it, I was one of the worst kinds of sinners. Because I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I went right ahead and did it anyway. And after every time I let Jake have his way with me, I vowed it would be the last time until we were married. But no matter how strong I tried to be, every time he touched me, my voice became paralyzed and my body melted like cotton candy on a tongue.

Oh, dear Lord, how could I leave him? What if he found another girl while I was gone? If that happened, how would I go on living without him?

Stop it! Jake loves you. It’s only six weeks, not six months
.

I cautiously pushed open the screen door, being careful so it wouldn’t squeak. I surely didn’t want to wake the whole household. We had to be on the road bright and early tomorrow morning.

The slightest of breezes fanned my hot cheeks as I stepped out onto the porch. I sniffed the air, wondering if rain was maybe on the way. Lord knew we could sure use it. I stood motionless on the porch and gazed up at the full moon, hanging there in the velvet sky like the background in one of them pictures from the Russell County Fair. I had one of me and Chad from last summer, and after I’d started going out with Jake, I’d tried to make myself burn it, but in the end, I just couldn’t do it.

I frowned, pushing away thoughts of Chad. He was history now, and I was in love with Jake. I turned to step off the porch and head down to the pond, but hesitated when I heard the squeak of the swing to my right.

“What you doin’ up this time of night, Lily Rae?” said a weary voice from the shadowed end of the porch.

I whipped around, pressing a hand against the lace neckline of my nightgown, trying to steady my bumping heart. “Why, Mother! You gave me a start.” What on earth was she doing up at this hour?

The swing creaked again, resuming its motion. “You can’t sleep, I reckon,” she said, answering her own question. “To be expected. Headin’ off to Louieville and all. I reckon you can’t hardly close your eyes, much less sleep.”

“Yes’um.” I nodded. “Seems like I’ve been waiting for this day all my life, and now it’s here I’m feeling…” My voice trailed off. How could I tell my mother how I was really feeling? That now I’d found the love of my life, I wasn’t all that excited to get away?

Well, I just
couldn’t
tell her that. Because then she’d want to know who
was
the love of my life, and of course, I couldn’t tell her it was Jake.

“I don’t know,” I went on. “I just feel all mixed up inside. I want to go, but then I think about leaving ya’all, and…it just saddens me.”

“Well, now…that’s just part of life,” Mother said. “Younguns grow up, leave home and start their own lives. Would be peculiar if they didn’t, I reckon.”

I opened my mouth to agree, but before I could draw a breath, she went on, “It ain’t easy for a body to give up their children, but I reckon they’s nothing we can do but obey the Lord’s plan. It ain’t gonna seem the same around here without you, though.”

My throat tightened at the undercurrent of emotion in her voice. Why, I’d had no idea Mother was pining about me going off to Louieville. She’d never given a sign all summer long it was bothering her at all.

“Well…” I began, trying to think of a way to tell her how much I loved her and how I was going to miss everybody, without getting all sappy on her. Lord knows, ours wasn’t a family that got all dewy-eyed and sob-storied around each other.

“’Course,” Mother went on, “I’d druther have you all growed up and gone than not growed up a’ tall.”

I felt a pang in my heart. Oh, poor Mother. I chewed on my bottom lip, wishing I could find words to comfort her. It had only been three months since the death of little Charles Alton, and of course, Mother was still mourning, just as we all were.

After a moment of silence, Mother said quietly, “I remember last summer on a night just like this one.” Her voice sounded faraway and dreamy—not at all like her usual no-nonsense tone. “I was sittin’ out here with Charles Alton layin’ up against my chest, just a-swingin’ to and fro. Poor little’un. He’d got a-hold of a crab apple while I was takin’ down the wash that afternoon, and by the time I saw what he was up to and got it away from him, he’d et half of it. Law, that boy was sicker than an old hound dog that night. I reckon his belly was achin’ something fierce. So, I rocked him in that swing and he finally fell asleep. Just tired to the bone, he was.” She fell silent.

I waited a moment before responding. Mother and Daddy were like most older folks around these parts. They only spoke when they had something to say, and when they had something to say, they took their time saying it. So I waited, even though what I wanted to do most was walk over to that swing, sit down and wrap my arms around my mother and tell her how much I loved her. But that kind of emotion just wasn’t something folks did around here. Why, they’d probably think I was dying or something.

“I remember sittin’ there holding him, not thinkin’ about anything in particular, jus’ enjoyin’ his warm little body against me, listenin’ to his breathin.’ He still smelled like a baby, not a little boy. I remember thinkin’ how peaceful it was out here now that he’d fallen off to sleep. And then, somethin’ queer happened. I got this shivery feelin’…the kind that loosens up your bowels and makes you feel like somebody is walkin’ over your grave. I wonder now if it was the second sight, warnin’ me about what was gonna happen…warnin’ me to enjoy the time I had left with him.”

Moments ticked by in silence. I searched for a reply that would give Mother comfort but came up empty. I glanced up at the moon, shining like a big silver dollar in the sky, then looked out toward the pond, glimmering in its light.

And suddenly I knew what to say. “Mother, come down to the pond with me. Let’s sit on the wharf and put our feet in the water.”

When there was no response, I felt a flicker of disappointment. What an idiot I was for even suggesting such a thing. Why, Mother probably thought I was as crazy as a Junebug!

But then the swing stopped creaking and I glanced over to see the slight silhouette of her approaching. The light from the moon crossed her face as she paused at my side, softening the fine lines etching her mouth and forehead and revealing a twinkle in her eyes. “I think that’s a right fine idea, Lily Rae.” She started down the rickety steps of the front porch.

Minutes later, the two of us sat on the end of the wharf, our bare feet splashing in the cool water. I grinned, imagining the bullfrogs glaring at us from the shadowed edges of the pond, probably madder than wet hens because humans had invaded their space. I leaned back on the palms of my hands, feeling the rough boards of the wharf still warm from the day’s sun, and gazed up at the moon. Then I looked around at our land, feeling my heart brimming with love for this place, my home.

“I’m scared, Mother,” I said suddenly. “About leaving. Maybe it’s all wrong. Maybe I should stay right here in Russell County where I belong.”

Mother didn’t speak for a long moment, but just stared up at the moon, a placid look on her face.

Just as I was beginning to think she was lost in her own thoughts and hadn’t even heard me, she said softly, “How do you know where home is, child, if you never left it?”

My brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.” I wanted to go on to say that that didn’t make one bit of sense, but I respected my mother too much to sass her.

Art Credit: Jim Miller