The Storycatcher (9 page)

“My daddy died a bad death, didn’t he?”

There wasn’t no going around this boy. “I don’t like talking on it, but he was buried out in New Orleans somewhere. Only your mama knows. My brother was supposed to live on this island and live out the old ways. It’s our place. He didn’t believe in such and now he’s gone. Don’t know what happened to him, not really. Only your mama has all them answers.”

“I got run off of Black Mountain.” The words were hard around the edges. This was a grown man talking.

“You call me Ada, Ada Lee Tine.”

“My daddy’s spirit stopped me on the road off of Black Mountain. He told me to find family. Said someone would be waiting at the dock for me on this very day. He told me the truth.” He said this like he sure wasn’t used to truths.

Who was I to argue with my dead brother? “Come on. You need to eat.” That mama of his could have been with child. It didn’t take but one time. She wasn’t a truthful type, so why would she have told me about a baby?

“I got this for you, ma’am. Made it from some nice maple a man let
me have for pay. It took me two weeks of working to get this done.” He shoved something smooth and shiny at me. “I worked for a man who made real nice furniture. He fed me and showed me how to make this. Then he put me on a train in Macon, and I rode it to Savannah. He was a special white man. They don’t come around too often.”

It was a little box—square, shiny, and perfect in every way.

“I figured anybody could use a nice trinket box. See, I’m useful.”

Them tears I’d held in way too long came out of nowhere. “This is beautiful. I don’t reckon no one has ever gave me something so pretty.” I swiped at the tears as he looked off, pretending not to see. “You like crab?” I asked.

“I ain’t never had none.”

I hooted. “Lordy Jesus! You call yourself a Tine? Tines have crab in their blood, boy. You’ll like mine. I’ve been told I’m the best cook in these parts.” Maybe Willie Tine did one thing right. Maybe he sent that boy ’cause he knew how bad we needed each other. I touched his shoulder. “You come on home with me. I’ll teach you all I know. Is anyone looking for you?”

“No, ma’am. I don’t reckon a soul will come.”

I studied the shiny box in my hand. What kind of mama lets a boy like this slip away? “I can use help. I be your aunt that never married. You be my boy now.”

“Pardon, ma’am. I’m not a boy. What you do for a living here?” He looked around at the palmettos and tall oaks. The moss hanging out of the trees, waving wild-like in the wind. The rows of stones marking family after family of folks that lived on the island for longer than most could remember.

“I make baskets. I used to work here on the island when I was real young, but now I work every summer on the Ridge for a white family my mama worked for. It be real rare any of us work off the island unless we fishing. And that’s what I hope I’m going to do. I just got me a boat. You think you could be a fisherman?”

He grinned big.

“I got me a shrimp boat by the name of
Sweet Jesse.
We both going to learn us how to fish. It’s in our blood. What you say to that?”

“Yes, ma’am. I reckon I can learn real fast.”

I had no doubt that Will Tine could be anything he set out to be. And there it was. Sometimes a loss be so big a soul felt like she was going to die, and then along came something good to take her home in the right direction again.

T
HE SUMMER FAITH TOOK HERSELF
down the mountain without telling no one—you’d have thought she escaped from jail—the whole house was in a tither. Now, it was the plain truth that I didn’t like the girl, but she’d been acting strange, odd—that was a new word I read in one of her magazines. Even Amanda noticed how she fretted whenever Pastor and Mrs. Dobbins came in the room. It was catching, ’cause then I started watching them, especially Pastor, too. Anyway, Faith had gone against Pastor and Mrs. Dobbins. She wasn’t even real smart about it. Didn’t try to hide a thing. She went to the mercantile to buy thread for that silly quilt she was working on with my great-grandmama’s sewing basket that she stole and flashed in front of Nada’s nose every chance she could. Four years of that mess, and still Nada hadn’t brought it up to Mrs. Dobbins, like the basket just be worthless. And Nada turning her head stuck right in my ribs and twisted like a knife. Anyway, “unchaperoned”
was the word Pastor kept shouting. He shouted and shouted, but Faith refused to tell them how she made the trip. I guessed it was the first interesting thing she’d done in her life. She stood up and did something other than whine for more attention. There wasn’t a bit of love between me and her, that was for sure, but a person had to admire her gumption.

When Pastor led Faith off into his study, Mrs. Dobbins started wringing her hands. Lord, she was a mess. Nada kept that cold stare of hers on the study door, and when it opened she stopped cutting up the chicken for dinner.

“What happened, Faith?” Mrs. Dobbins asked.

Faith didn’t have no choice but to stop, ’cause Mrs. Dobbins blocked the door.

“That Tuggle woman took her down the mountain without permission. I want to see her today! Here!” he roared. Then he gave Faith one of those “you going to die” looks. “If there’s not a good reason for this, you won’t be going to her house again. Now, go on to your room and stay there.” He gave his whole attention to Mrs. Dobbins. “I’ve never cared for Faith working like some farmhand, anyway.”

So it was agreed in no extra words that whether Miss Tuggle wanted to or not, she was to come in front of Pastor. And I’d never known him not to get exactly what he wanted out of folks. Everybody on the mountain, including Mrs. Dobbins, knew Miss Tuggle hated Pastor all the way down to her toes. Nobody knew why. They didn’t have to. Miss Tuggle was her own woman, and what she thought was given honor. I cut out humming around the front room dusting Mrs. Dobbins’s stupid doodads. No cleaning up after Faith for a few days. No, I figured Miss Prissy had got herself in so much trouble she wouldn’t be in my way. They’d probably lock her in the attic with only bread and water. She had to be the neediest white girl, always yelling for me to go fetch her some book or a glass of water like her dern legs was gone.
“Shelly, sew on this button.”
Her being a fine seamstress. Even Nada made over them awful quilts.
“Shelly, I need
me some apples, peeled and sliced, mind you. And don’t be walking in the woods. I seen you the other day. I’ll tell Amanda. Can you clean the spot off my shoe? Shelly, Shelly, Shelly.”
Trying to always boss me like she’s some kind of grown-up. Nada said she was, but I knew better. Shoot, I was more grown at fifteen than she was at nineteen. I knew how backward she was even if nobody else wanted to stand up and take notice.

Mrs. Dobbins was beside herself when Pastor walked back down the hall and slammed his study door. She followed Nada from room to room for at least an hour.

“Mrs. Dobbins, you got to get out from under my feet. I can’t tolerate it no more. You best go see Miss Tuggle yourself.”

“Oh, I can’t do that. It’s not proper. Charles would be very upset.”

“She ain’t nothing but some old granny woman, not a thing special. So stop your fretting before you drive both me and you crazy.”

“I just can’t face that woman after I talked out of my head that day. She knows too much.”

“Shoot, Mrs. Dobbins, she’s probably heard worse.”

“I just can’t.”

Nada took a deep breath. “I’ll send Shelly over to get her right now. Just to bring peace to this house.”

“What if she won’t come? You know she hates Charles.”

Nada rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “You just a trouble borrower. That’s all you be.”

I slid into the kitchen, but Nada followed me.

“You stop trying to get out of this mess.” Nada watched me close. “Take yourself over to Miss Tuggle’s and tell her she has to come see Pastor and why. And ask her if she can give me plenty of catnip and chamomile. I’m running low. I got to either calm this white woman or take a dose of my own tea.”

Now, the last thing I wanted was to go to Miss Tuggle’s house. I didn’t have nothing against her, but she was a quiet woman. And I was pretty much a quiet girl. I was afraid we’d quiet each other to death.

“Don’t give me that look, Shelly. I see what you thinking. Just do what I say.”

“I don’t know why you care so much, Nada. Let Mrs. Dobbins go after Miss Tuggle herself. We’re just the maids.”

Nada’s face turned silent and still. “Shelly Parker, I ain’t putting up with your stuff today. Now go, do what I say.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Half the time I believed Nada cared more about Mrs. Dobbins and Faith than me.

“Count yourself lucky to be out of this house on such a pretty day. I’d give anything to just go for a walk.”

I hung my head and scooted out the back door into the sun.

“Watch yourself,” Nada whispered.

Somebody was always, always warning me about being careful.

I took me a big breath of air clean down into my chest. Outside the main house my thoughts floated right off in different directions. I could make believe one day I’d leave the old mountain, maybe go to school too. I was smart, just not book smart. You had to have books to be that kind of smart. Mostly I only read the Bible and a torn-up copy of
Little Women
I snitched from Faith’s room. She be the one who taught me to read so she could play teacher with me. I was always getting my hand slapped with the ruler. I wanted me a real schooling. President Roosevelt said every person had the right to a decent learning. I heard him on Mrs. Dobbins’s radio. Mostly she listened to the gospel station down in Asheville, but when Pastor was out of the house, that woman might listen to anything. The house was full of showing something one way when it was really a whole other set of circumstances. Anyway, I had me two one-hundred-dollar bills tucked under a loose floorboard in my room. Nellie Pritchard—I guessed she was as close to having a friend as I had come—gave me the money after she up and killed that no-good husband, Hobbs. I never told a soul, not one, about the murder or the money. Everyone but me and Mrs. Connor—she lived down the mountain a ways and came to Nada for all sorts of spells, right decent for a white woman—thought Nellie had died. Folks claimed to see her
ghost roaming the woods. Silly stories. All that mess made me laugh. Nellie got herself right on a train and took off, but that was a secret I kept tight to me. Nada sure didn’t know nothing about no murder, money, or me leaving the mountain. Me hiding all that stuff was Nada’s fault, anyway. She’s the one who made me work for Nellie. Secrets weren’t nothing but untold lies.

The sun hit the yard in places, leaving long shadows, reminding me of fall in summer. In the side yard stood three spirits. Ever since I came to understand my gift the year of the hailstorm, they appeared any time they felt up to it. I walked right by them ’cause I didn’t have time for their foolishness, always needed me to listen to some story or another. “Leave me be today,” I said. “I already got to go to Miss Tuggle’s house. I ain’t messing with the likes of you too.”

A girl stepped out from the line and looked at me dead in the eyes. I got me a good look at that sour face. She was a colored spirit about my age, and that was downright spooky. “You talking to me, gal?” And mouthy too.

I walked me a straight path to the road without looking back. Something told me that haint could come right along with me if she chose.

Faith squatted in front of a gravestone in Daniels Cemetery. It looked just like she was drawing, but Nada said she was stealing the pictures and words on the markers, using them for her quilts. If ever there was a witch, Faith Dobbins was one. She’d done sneaked herself out of that house right under her mama’s nose. But that ain’t what made her a witch. Anybody could probably fool Mrs. Dobbins. Nope. It was the stuff she stole when she thought nobody was looking. Stuff like hair from Pastor’s hairbrush, a button off her mama’s nightgown, herbs from Nada’s garden. All those things was makings for a spell of some kind. Wasn’t no telling what she took from the cemetery besides words and pictures. I got out of her sight before she spied me, but knowing her, she done knew I was there.