The Three Sisters (9 page)

“Everyone was so caught up with Rev. Pike that none of us noticed that Bessie was coming down the hill heading straight for us. Her brakes had give way. When Mrs. Cartwright’s great-granddaughter saw Bessie, she screamed something awful, but it was
too late.”

“Next thing we knew there was people running all over the place, except Mrs. Cartwright’s sister. She was too old to move. Bessie came to a stop when she hit
the casket.”

“Knocked Mrs. Cartwright’s body plum out of
the casket.”

“But not before Bessie’d hit three people, including Mrs.
Cartwright’s sister.”

“She died,” added
Mr. Ram.

“At
the funeral?”

“That’s right,” answered
Mr. Ram.

“Theodora, you may think this terrible, but I thought that was the funniest thing that’d happened around here in years,” admitted Mrs. Ram. “Of course anything that happens around here is news, but this was the biggest thing that’d happened since the last cave-in at
the mine.”

“Mother thought it was great having a customer just drop in on us like that, but she stopped laughing when Mrs. Cartwright’s son sued us. He’d got hold of one of them city lawyers, come all the way from Lexington too. He told us he was going to sue us for every penny we had, which
wasn’t much.”

“They should have been happy just to get rid of her,” Mrs. Ram said crossly. “Why, she was just sitting around collecting retirement and living off her children anyway. They didn’t care about her, they just wanted
the money.”

“Then just like that,” Mr. Ram snapped his fingers, “We stopped getting business. I couldn’t believe it. Of course people were still dying like always, but the Cartwrights, they’d given us a bad name around here out
of revenge.”

“It wasn’t the Cartwrights that done it, Abe. You know that. People just didn’t like the idea of their kin being carted around in that pick-up truck you borrowed to replace
the hearse.”

“Well, that was it, too,” admitted Mr. Ram. “But that wasn’t all of it, Theodora. Last month Mr. Simpson from the mining company come up here. He said they’re gonna auger this here hill and we had to go. I told him he couldn’t make us go ’cause this was a cemetery, and there was people’s relatives here. But he said that didn’t make
no difference.”

“They can’t strip mine a cemetery,”
objected Theodora.

“Don’t think we didn’t try to stop them,” said Mrs. Ram. “You know I’m not a quitter, but it seems as though the people who owned the land before we came here in ’
44
, they sold away their mineral rights way back around
1900
for a quarter an acre or something like that. The mineral company’s got it all on a piece of paper. We tried and tried to get them to stop, but seems as though there ain’t nothing we can do
about it.”

“One of them told me, ‘The poor may inherit the earth, but we have the mineral rights,’” interjected Mr. Ram. “They paid us some money for using the land, but all that went to Mr. Cartwright. We settled out of court. So now we’re broke and don’t have no place to go. We haven’t heard from our kids in years, and welfare won’t support us worth spitting at. So we’re going to have to get some work somewhere else. I’m still healthy even if I am in my sixties, and Mother’s as chipper as she ever was, most of the time. So maybe we can find something to do. Problem is there ain’t much work for old people around here. Ain’t much work for anybody for
that matter.”

“I don’t hear so well anymore,” said Mrs. Ram. “But I can still get around like a spring chicken some days if I
want to.”

“So that’s the way things are. Don’t look too good for us.” Mr. Ram paused. “So how’s life been with
you, Theodora?”

With this invitation Theodora gave an account, constantly amended by Coito, of her return to New England, the days she spent there, their move to Washington, D.C., their trip out to the west coast, and their encounter with the law in Tennessee. By the time she (and Coito) had finished the review of the previous four years, it was late afternoon. Since the three sisters would be staying with the Rams until they could decide where to go when they left the True Love Mortuary, Theodora went into town with Mrs. Ram to get some food for the next couple of days. Right before supper, while the Rams were showing Theodora and Regina around the grounds, Coito called Victor to tell him where they were and to discuss their plans for getting back to Washington, D.C., safely. As she had expected, Victor was still furious at Coito for breaking out of jail and not obeying his orders. He advised her to lie low until the situation had cooled off. Under no circumstances should the three return to their house to avoid being arrested. Coito was admonished to stay at the True Love Mortuary until Victor could figure out what
to do.

When Mrs. Ram returned with the others, she and Theodora cooked supper for the six. After eating, they all talked and watched TV for the rest of the evening until they were ready to retire.

“’Fraid there’s not enough room in here for all four of you,” said Mr. Ram. “Best we can do is put you up in one of the parlors over in the funeral home. I can get one of the heaters going so you won’t get too cold tonight. You’ll have to sleep on the floor but at least you’ll
be warm.”

“Oh no,” objected K. “I’m not going to spend the night sleeping with a bunch
of stiffs.”

“Oh, there’s no one there now,” said
Mr. Ram.

“What’s the matter, K, afraid of the Big Sleep?”
asked Regina.

“Of course not,” Coito
shot back.

“Really don’t have much of a choice,” advised Mr. Ram. “It’s either there or the hearse
or outside.”

“Come on, K, it’ll be fun in the funeral parlor,” lit up Regina. “That’s where me and
Tony’ll be.”

“All right,” acquiesced Coito.

Mrs. Ram had already gotten the key to let the four into the funeral home. She led the group over, let them in, and showed them where they could find some blankets to use for the night. There was only one couch, which was too short for any of them to sleep on, so they each laid some blankets on the floor and made pillows out of sundry old cushions which they gathered together. Not having slept in a day and a half, the
three sisters
and Tony went straight to sleep
for once.

Theodora woke up early the next morning so she could be by herself for a while and think about the sudden change in her fortunes. Walking around the cemetery and the adjoining hills in the cool morning air, she could be alone and regain her composure. Ever since her childhood, Theodora had relied on strolls through the country to refresh and invigorate her. At home, at college, as a nun (though not in Washington), she had depended upon these walks to keep her peace of mind.

Once again in Appalachia, Theodora remembered the days and nights she had spent walking around the hills those last few months before she met Coito, trying to figure out what to do with her life. Back then, the problem for her had not been finding solutions to her predicament, but in carrying out her decisions. Yet the problems she had in the past seemed inconsequential compared to what faced her now. Then she had worried about how and whether to change her future; now the problem was how to avoid her future.

As usual Coito was as much the cause of her problems as anything else. Ever since she and Coito had met, she had tried to control or at least temper K’s excesses. But usually the stronger-willed Coito had won out. This time, however, Coito had outdone herself. Trespassing had been a minor legal infraction which probably would have netted them a probated sentence at worst, but breaking out of jail virtually ensured that they would have to eventually pay their debt to society. Once they were caught, the law would turn on the three sisters with the full weight of its power. Their lives would be
irrevocably changed.

As Theodora saw it, the whole problem lay with Coito always trying to play the role of some Faustian Rebel. She and Regina both knew that K was not as uncompromising and defiant as she pretended to be. Thea had seen her give in to Victor too many times to doubt that. Yet how could Theodora control Coito? She did not have the economic power over K that Victor had, nor was she able to come up with the quick retorts that flowed naturally from Coito. K depended upon inspiration, instant insights, or
bon mots
with almost unquestioned self-confidence whenever she got into an argument, rather than Theodora’s thorough analysis of a
particular problem.

Theodora knew she had been taken in by K’s panache and cynical defiance when she first met Coito. K had created a world of vivacity and spontaneity undreamt of in the academic ambience of Thea’s home. Theodora had tried to temper Coito’s excesses, and Theodora thought she had achieved some success. But when they were arrested in Tennessee, four years of trying to change Coito, of trying to get her to see through her rebellion, of trying to get her to behave seemed to have gone for naught. Despite everything, Theodora knew that K needed her, and she needed Coito. Though her fate would inevitably be tied to Coito’s, Theodora knew that if she left K, not even Victor could keep Coito out of trouble. Victor could patch up Coito’s problems, but it was up to Theodora to prevent them as best
she could.

So here she was, back in the Kentucky she had left forever four years before. Ironically, she had returned here so the Rams could help her, only to find the Rams in a predicament even worse than her own. Thea wanted to help her friends, but since they were running from the law, what could she do for the Rams? As she was walking back to the True Love Mortuary, the answer
struck her.

“I’ve got it!”
declared Theodora.

“Got what?”

A startled Theodora jumped and turned around to see Regina walking
toward her.

“Don’t do that,” commanded Theodora. “You scared me half
to death.”

“Really?”

“Yes, what are you doing
out here?”

“Oh, I wanted to see if you were all right. I woke up and you were gone, so I decided to come out here for a while where it was peaceful
and quiet.”

“Aaaann,” cried
the penguin.

“Oh, and Sister Carla wanted to come out for a
walk too.”

“So
I see.”

“What did you mean, ‘I
got it’?”

“Oh, I was just thinking, why don’t we invite the Rams to come up to Washington with us when we leave? We could help them get started up there. I’m sure we could talk Victor into getting them jobs somewhere. After all, they won’t have much of a chance of finding anything around here, and it’s the least we could do
for them.”

“After what K’s done, I’m not sure Victor’ll want to do much of anything for
us anymore.”

“Oh, don’t worry, they always kiss and make up. Last time I talked to Victor, he half seemed like he was enjoying having his lawyers try to solve our problems. But even if Victor won’t help us, we’ve got to do something for the Rams. We can’t just leave them here,”
Theodora pleaded.

“You know me, I wouldn’t mind,” said Regina. “But maybe the Rams won’t want to leave Kentucky after they’ve lived here for
so long.”

“I hadn’t thought about that, but it doesn’t hurt to offer. I’m sure if I tried to think up all the rational arguments for them coming to Washington, D.C. and reasoned with them, they’d come. I’ll just have to be well prepared and convince them they have no
other choice.”

That morning at breakfast, after carefully detailing all the difficulties and alternatives which the Rams faced, Theodora invited her friends to accompany them back to Washington when they left a few days thence. Theodora had tried to work out all the details in her head that morning and had prepared her speech to the Rams. Theodora told them they could take the Rams’ station wagon and leave the hearse at the True Love Mortuary. After arriving in Washington, D.C., the three sisters could help them find a place to stay and Victor could help them find
some work.

Despite Theodora’s preparation for some opposition, she had not anticipated the strength of Mr. Ram’s intransigence to leave. On the other hand, Mrs. Ram liked the idea but could not leave without her husband. With Coito determined to depart by Thursday at the latest, Mrs. Ram had to work quickly to convince her recalcitrant husband that they had no future in
eastern Kentucky

Saying they had imposed upon the Rams too much already, Theodora gave Mrs. Ram a break from her kitchen chores and sent Tony out to buy enough food for the six of them that evening. While they waited for Tony to return with the “vittles” (which was a word of Latin origin, Theodora reminded everyone), Thea popped the question
once again.

“So are you leaving
with us?”

“I don’t know,” hesitated Mr. Ram. “Washington’s mighty far away, and there really wouldn’t be much for us to do
up there.”

“But I said Victor would help you get
a job.”

“Even if he did, Theodora, it’d be an awfully strange place to live, what with all those foreigners and politicians. We don’t even know nobody
up there.”

“You know the four of us,”
said Theodora.

“That’s true I guess, but Kentucky’s where
we belong.”

“Well you can stay here if you want, but I plan to get out of here while I still can. What is there worth staying around for?” Mrs. Ram asked her husband. “They’ve taken our land away, and we got to go. So why not just clear out and leave the hills and the cemetery far behind? And just who do we know around here anymore? I ask. Everyone already died from the mines or worked themselves to death. The smart ones, they left and went up to Chicago long ago. And didn’t our children go up there too? I tried then to get you to go, but you
wouldn’t budge.”