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Authors: Vicki Lane

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BOOK: Signs in the Blood
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Again Walter Johnson leaned forward, shifting his chewing tobacco into his cheek, but once again Ollie spoke first. “Why, no, honey, we didn't see him. And iffen he'd come this way, he surely would of stopped in. Cletus did love my biscuits and many's the time he come this way and stayed with us. But we ain't seed him since back in March. I know because I always write it on the calendar when people come by and when Burlen told me about Cletus, I went and looked to see when it was he was last here. March twenty-seven, hit was.”

“Do you reckon he might of gone to your old place?” Birdie asked earnestly. “Lizzie Beth could take me up the road in her jeep. I'm a-lookin' for Cletus's shotgun what he had with him. Hit weren't there . . . where they found him.”

“Law, honey, you can't get nary a vehicle up to the old place no more. That big ice storm last winter blowed over nineteen big trees right acrost the road. They's a big poplar down right around the curve. No, the onliest way is to walk. Me and Walter ain't been up to the old place since last fall. That old arthuritis won't let neither of us clamber over them big trees.”

Walter raised a finger and began, “That preacher—”

“That's right,” Ollie continued. “They's a preacher man from outside of here been stayin' up there since the beginning of March. He's one of these travelin' evangelists—Burlen knows him from some'ers. Burlen said this Brother Slagle was lookin' for a quiet place to be alone and pray between his travels and asked could he use our old cabin.”

“Lizzie Beth,” Birdie explained, “that Burlen she's namin' is Pastor Briggs, the one was over to Dessie's that last day we was there. Burlen Briggs is Ollie's baby brother.”

“I reckon that preacher's found hit quiet enough; we ain't seen but very little of him,” Ollie continued. “He did pass by just yesterday and stopped to visit. Iffen he'd seen Cletus, reckon he'd of said something to us.” She darted a look at Walter, who was noisily clearing his throat and added, “That preacher man's a-settin' up his tent on the bypass now, gettin' ready for a big revival startin' next week. They call him John the Baptizer.”

Walter slowly hoisted himself out of his chair and, shuffling forward, spat a thin stream of tobacco juice into the weeds below. A bit of the amber liquid caught the edge of the porch and Ollie exclaimed, “Walter, why can't you use that spit can I fixed for you? Let me get a rag and wipe that off.” She bustled into the trailer, still fussing vociferously at her husband.

As Walter made his unhurried way back to his seat, he caught Birdie's eye and wheezed, “Reckon you ought to go ask them hippies up on Hog Run did they see Cletus.”

II-A
PRIL
1901

Romarie took on like one thing when she come home from Phelpses and found out that we was a-goin to have a boarder. Daddy and Mister Tomlin had gone off down to the river to look at a piece of land Daddy knowed of and Romarie just let loose. You mean to tell me, she hollered, we got us another man to feed and do for? But when we told her about the gold watch chain and the red stone finger-ring she quieted down some and asked what age of a man Mister Tomlin was.

By the time him and Daddy come back for supper, Romarie had fixed her hair up in a big pompadour like what the schoolteacher has, and had got out some of the jelly and pickles that she puts up special for when the preacher comes to dinner. I believe that she had got into Clytie's powder too.

Daddy looked close at Romarie as she got the supper on the table. She was askin me and Clytie will you and why don't you just as sweet as if she'd never in her life offered to slap us twist-legged if we didn't hurry up with that wood-splittin. When we was all at the table and Mister Tomlin had said another one of his great long prayers, she commenced to askin after his family. When she learnt that he were a widder-man, she had a time to keep from grinnin outright. But she acted all sorrowful-like and ast Mister Tomlin iffen he wouldn't try some more of her blackberry jam.

I could see right off that hit weren't no use, for though Mister Tomlin was a gentleman and answered her polite, I could feel him a-drawin back from her. Ol Rom never was pretty even when she was a girl and her hair and eyes is kindly no color atall so that she looks like she don't have no eyebrows nor lashes neither. She's always been sickly lookin though they ain't a thing wrong with her but that she is eat up with meanness.

Me and Clytie take atter Mommy. At least that's what Aetha says. We have dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Clytie has hips and bosoms like any grown woman, but I'm still flat front and back. Hit don't bother me none. But hit did surprise me when I seed that Mr. Tomlin was treatin me like I was growed up—askin me would I walk to church with him on Sunday. I didn't know what to say and I looked at Daddy. He just nodded his head yes and went on spoonin up his soup beans.

That like to killed Romarie. She jumped up from the table so fast that her chair banged over and she started to clearin the dishes though Mister Tomlin was yet butterin a biscuit. And I could see Clytie's lower lip a-startin to pooch out like hit does when she don't get her way. Well, thinks I. Well.

 

When Sunday morning come, Romarie stayed in the bed and left it for me and Clytie to do all the work. She let on that she was taken bad with her time of the month but I had seen her washin her clouts two weeks back and knowed she didn't have her period on her. I allowed as how she just didn't want to be there when I come a-walkin up to the church house with Mister Tomlin.

Howsomever, I done the milkin and fed the chickens whilst Clytie fixed breakfast. Daddy had said to fix fried chicken for dinner. We didn't have no extry chickens for a coon had killed the young cockerels I was fattenin. Well, girl, Daddy had said, you kill one of them young pullets. And just you take my shotgun up to the chicken house tonight and lay in wait for that coon.

I caught one of the young pullets and wrung her head off. I was settin on the back porch, pluckin off the feathers and puttin them in the feather basket when Clytie hollered out that the food was on the table. I could smell the sausage and my mouth fairly watered to think of biscuits and sausage gravy. But I had yet to gut and wash the pullet and put her to cool in the springhouse.

By the time I got that done and washed the blood and feathers and that nasty chicken smell offen myself, they was all finished with breakfast. Daddy and Mister Tomlin was settin on the front porch a-smokin some long black cigars that Mister Tomlin had brung with him. There weren't no sausage left but Clytie had saved back some gravy and biscuits. I et it standin while Clytie done up the dishes. She was already wearin her blue Sunday dress and had her hair pulled up all puffy like Romarie had taken to doin since Mister Tomlin come to stay.

Little Sylvie, Daddy called out, you stir yore stumps and get ready for church. Yessir, Daddy, I said, and took off up the stairs. I had some biscuit for Romarie but she just let out a big groan and turned her face to the wall when she seen me. I left the plate there on the floor by her bed and made for me and Clytie's room, a-pullin off my old work rags as fast as I could.

My Sunday dress was one what Aetha had made for Clytie but Clytie had got too big for it with those bosoms of hern afore she could wear it out. Hit was a pretty pink calico with a fancy ruffle going from each shoulder down to the waist in a big vee like flyin geese. Aetha's a good hand to sew and her man got her one of them sewin machines soon atter they was wed. I hope to have me a sewin machine for my own someday. I do like to work that treadle.

I unplaited my hair and brushed hit out. I wisht that Clytie would come upstairs and show me how to fix hit like hern but I knowed that she wouldn't. So I just let hit hang. Hit reaches past my waist to where I can sit on hit. I was just about to look in Clytie's box for that powder when Daddy hollered up the stairs, You, Little Sylvie, get on down here. I don't want to miss the preachin.

 

We walked down our road, Daddy and Clytie in front and me and Mister Tomlin behind. Clytie was a-switchin her bottom like one thing and oncet we had to all stop and wait while she pulled off a briar that was caught in her dress hem. She lifted up her skirt and twisted hit thisaway and that till she made sure Mister Tomlin could see them narrow ankles of hern she's so proud of.

When we reached the little road that runs up the hill to the graveyard, Daddy said, You uns walk on and me and Clytie'll go up and visit Mama for a minute. I wondered at this, seein he had been in such a hurry to get to the preachin but I just said, Don't you want me to come too, Daddy?

He give me one of them sharp looks and said, Didn't you hear me right, girl? I said walk on.

Down on the road that runs along Ridley Branch, I could see a whole gang of them Gentrys a-walkin toward the church house. I quickened my step, thinkin to catch up with them and walk along in company for I was kindly shy of bein alone with Mister Tomlin. But he pulled up and said, Now, Little Sylvie, let's just bide here for a spell so as we don't get too far ahead of your pa.

They was a big flat rock over to one side of the road and Mister Tomlin he took my hand and led me over to it. He pulled out a white pocket handkerchief and spread it on the rock for me to set on. Now, Little Sylvie, says he. I want to tell you how I'm situated. And he stood there before me, one hand deep in his pocket a-jinglin of the gold coins that was always in there, and he begun to talk. He told me how he was a lonely widder-man in need of a helpmeet to brighten his days. He talked of how much money and property he had and how, oncet that he got his sawmill built, he would build a big house and his wife would be able to take her ease.

I spoke up and said that it seemed to me a big house would just make for more work and he laughed and patted me on the hand and said, Why, Little Sylvie, I'm well able to hire a servant to do the work. My wife wouldn't have to do a thing in this world but wear pretty dresses and sit on a tuffet and sew a fine seam. His hand rested there on mine and hit seemed like the sun struck sparks offen that ruby in his finger-ring. I knowed now that was the right name for that blood red stone for Clytie had asked him.

I don't rightly know what is a tuffet, I said, but I do like to sew. Aetha done learned me to use her machine and I can do right good with it.

Just then Daddy and Clytie come along and Mister Tomlin put out his hand to help me up. We'll talk more about this in a while, he said. But I believe that we can come to an understanding.

 

All during the preachin I was thinkin on what Mister Tomlin had said. Hit seemed queer-like but hit appeared that he was a-makin up to me and wanted me for his wife. I looked acrost the church house to the men's side where him and Daddy was settin and seen that Mister Tomlin was a-lookin back at me. My face got hot and I quick looked up at the preacher. Brother Gosnell was goin on about how our church house was too small and in need of a new roof and he was askin the Lord to move the hearts of men to help to build us a new church house. He prayed and carried on and talked of Baby Jesus with no place to lay his head and at last he come right out and asked for folks to stand and say what they would give toward a new church house. If the Spirit moves you, children, he said. Listen if you don't hear the Spirit a-callin on you to do yore part.

Well, ain't no one round here got much but first one and then another stood and said that he would give so many days of work toward the buildin. One allowed as how him and his ox team could haul rocks for a foundation and the Gentry boys said they'd give so many logs offen their place, but no one offered any cash money. All of a sudden up jumps Mister Tomlin. Most folks knowed who he was for he'd been all up and down the creek offerin to buy timber and they knowed he was namin to buy the old Freeman place down by the river. Most knowed but on the bench in back of me I heared nosy old Granny Plemmons whisper to her daughter, Who is that fine-lookin man?

Mister Tomlin stood there and looked around the church house. Then he spoke to the preacher. Brother Gosnell, says he, I thank the Lord for bringin me into this country. On Ridley Branch, I believe that I've found all that I was seekin. You good people have made me welcome and quick as I get my mill built, first boards I saw will go to build your new church. I'll undertake to supply all the lumber you need and, what's more, I'll pay for a first-class metal roof.

Brother Gosnell threw up his hands and hollered Praise the Lord and all of a sudden the men was ever one comin and pumpin on Mister Tomlin's hand. The women was all a-whisperin and Clytie give me the queerest look.

When preachin broke, we all walked home together, us and the Gentrys. Daddy and Mister Tomlin and Mister Gentry was talkin about the new sawmill and the Gentry girls and Clytie was all actin the fool to see could they get Mister Tomlin to look at them. Billy Gentry kept tryin to pester me and would pull at my hair till I hollered at him to leave off. Him and me had set together the last time we had dinner on the grounds at the church and I had thought he was right good-lookin then but now his face was all spotty, most like he'd gotten into poison oak, and hit seemed like his ears stuck out more than they had used to. I run him off, then his sisters Retha and Margaret come wantin to know was Mister Tomlin married and was it true he had brung a bag of gold double eagles with him from Tennessee.

 

Hit was but three days later that Daddy come out to the barn while I was doin the evening milkin. Ol Poll was actin ill; first off she wouldn't let her milk down though I washed her tits off with warm water and butted her ol bag with my fist like as if I was her calf. She danced around and almost got her nasty foot in the bucket. I had to put her out some more corn afore she would settle and even then, oncet the milk was a-singin into the bucket, what does she do but wrap her dirty ol tail around my head and slap my face.

BOOK: Signs in the Blood
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