I’d never seen an actual plantation, only on television. We traveled up the tree-lined driveway leading to the large, white column structure with a wrap-around porch. I thought back to that afternoon when I’d watched Gone with the Wind. I knew without a doubt, this was a house that would make Scarlett herself jealous.
As we approached the front yard, the giant white house with black shutters took shape in front of me. I counted six massive white columns starting at the ground and extending to the roof. The poles were so large; it would take three of me with outstretched arms to circle around one of them.
The lower level boasted a full wrap-around porch covered with chairs and tables assembled into a fancy sitting area fit for a tea party with princesses. The second floor also had a full wrap around balcony with black iron guardrails. The Mason’s had two whole balconies on a single house.
The landscaped yard held bushes shaped in fancy designs, resembling the botanical garden from last year’s school field trip. The Masons literally had their own park. The whole place made my old secret garden look like a tangled up bird’s nest.
Jess circled around the yard to the back of the house. The dirty four-wheeler looked out of place on the manicured lawn. I expected someone to pop out from behind a bush to yell at us for driving on the grass.
“You live here?” The question came out half stupid as I muttered against his ear. I hoped the sound of the motor drowned it out.
“Yeah.” I felt his shoulders shrug.
Jess parked next to an outdoor gazebo that could hold at least fifty people for a garden party. The white structure overlooked an extravagant in-ground swimming pool with a ten-foot waterfall flowing from a rock ledge. Two fountains shot up from the deep blue water on each side of the wavy shape. It was bigger than any motel pool I’d seen as a kid.
“You can swim in the pool if ya want after school. I like jumpin’ from the top of ‘em rocks. Almost as much fun as the pond,” Jess said rather matter of fact. “You swim?”
“No.” The thought of being in that deep water made my teeth bite into my lip. I hated swimming.
“Let’s go. I’ll show you the really fun stuff.” Jess maneuvered around a few hedges and then punched the gas to take off through the tall grass. The wind slapped across my face; my hair flailing out to the sides. He slowed down again when we reached the barns.
“We’ve got lots of horses. You ever been on one?” He asked as I studied the expensive looking stables.
“No.” I shook my head.
“It’s ok. I can teach ya. You think the four-wheeler is fun, wait ‘til you ride a horse out here,” Jess laughed and punched the gas again. I grabbed his shirt as we shot off into the depths of the ranch. I wasn’t so sure about the horse riding thing.
The wind blew in my face as we bounced along the meadow. It was beautiful and so carefree being out in the wide open space. I knew why Jess loved it so much. Driving out on the ranch, the weight lifted in the breeze. For a moment in time, I felt free.
Jess alternated between a dirt path and plowing straight through the tall grass. We passed a group of red cows who watched us with bored eyes. I’d never seen one so close, but the furry heads didn’t seem unfriendly. Jess circled over a pond dam and came to a stop next to the water.
“You like fishin’?” He asked, pointing at the murky pool. “There’s some pretty good ones in there.”
“No. I mean, I’ve never been. I might like it I guess.” It was my general answer to all his questions today. I’d never done any of this stuff.
“It’s really fun. We’ll have to come back when it starts gettin’ cooler this fall.” I couldn’t see his face but I knew he was grinning with excitement. He words stumbled over each other like pancake syrup again.
“How did your family get Sprayberry?”
“It was my grandfather’s dad’s ranch first. The Jessups have sold red Angus for a long, long time. You see all of those out there?” He turned a little sideways and pointed to the other side of the ranch.
I’d lived in Texas my whole life. I may have never gone fishing or swam in a fancy pool, but I knew what an oil well pump looked like even from a distance.
“It was just cattle until they found the oil. My Uncle Frank still sells ‘em. The cattle. My grandfather just lived here and got rich.”
“Your uncle and grandfather both live here?” I said interrupting.
“No. Just Uncle Frank. My grandfather’s dead. House was his first then mother made it even bigger. Anyway, he crashed one of his planes with my grandma in it. Happened right after I was born. He’d learned to fly and wasn’t so good, I guess,” he chuckled and glanced back at me over his shoulder.
I wrinkled my nose up at his morbid joke. I realized what his story implied. Did he say his grandfather owned planes as in plural?
“When my grandfather found the oil, he kept buyin’ and buyin’ stuff. Made my Uncle Frank mad. After he died, all of this was my mother’s and Uncle Frank’s. He’s an old grouch. Never been married and I think he hates kids. Or maybe just me. He lives in a house off over there. That’s who I’ve been helpin’ for bein’ grounded for the elevator thing.”
“Uncle Frank…Jessup?” I asked. It was interesting to know another Jessup existed besides Jess.
“Yup, he’s got me scoopin’ horse manure out of the stalls at five in the mornin’. I gotta do that ‘til school starts. I hate poop.”
“I know. You told me.”
“Well, I still hate it.” He turned back to face the front.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Nah…not your fault. We better get back. Don’t want to make your dad mad at me the first day.”
He punched the gas, and I fumbled to grab his shirt. It was a lot of information to process for one day. The ranch itself was enough to overload my mind. It was positively paradise. I counted off more items to add to what my father and I owed these Masons; a house, school clothes, furniture, and this place called Sprayberry.
Chapter 9
When I was eight…
The day finally arrived and my secret, terrible wish came true. My mother, Anna Tanner, passed in her sleep a mere three days after we moved to the ranch. She was now a skeleton in a box. Her body waiting to be laid in the ground; waiting for the bugs to slither through the cracks and devour her skin and bones.
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want… He leads me beside still waters…”
Reverend Cooper read Psalm 23, his voice carried among the small gathering next to the closed casket. Over and over again, my eyes followed the same silver leaf pattern etched on the right side of the box. I heard very few of the Reverend’s words. In all aspects, my mother’s funeral represented the finality of the worst years of my life.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”
I lifted my eyes up to scan the group. Only a handful of people came to the funeral. My parents didn’t have any family left in Texas. No parents or siblings. No Uncle Franks. The Masons had guided my father through the preparations for the simple service. I had no idea how much this kind of production would cost our family. I no longer asked who paid for our expenses. In the cemetery, I mentality added the funeral to my growing debt to the Masons.
“And now, please join me in sending God’s child Anna, a loving wife and mother, back into His loving arms,” the Reverend’s voice carried a soothing tone.
I stood beside my father as they lowered my mother into the deep hole. The place with the bugs. I imagined them waiting, six feet down, for the fancy box with silver leaves. Sitting in the dirt. Mouths open. Teeth bared.