Child of the Mountains

20





It’s about Aunt Ethel Mae’s headaches and Jake.




SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1953

Aunt Ethel Mae has another one of them headaches today. We stayed home from church on account of her feeling so bad. I weren’t too sure iffen maybe she just weren’t too tired from staying up so late last night.

But sometimes she looks real sick. I don’t think you can fake getting pale and sweaty and throwing up.

I asked Uncle William how come Aunt Ethel Mae didn’t see a doctor about all them headaches. He said the coal company don’t have the kind of doctor that she needs. When I asked him what kind of doctor she needed, he said, “Never mind.”

Uncle William did tell me he once took her to the company doctor. They had to wait several months to get her a appointment. His face got all red and he kept a-shaking his head when he talked about it. “They been taking money out of my paycheck ever month since I started working in the mines to help pay for a company doctor. Excepten when you do get sick, they make you wait until you’re well or dead afore you get to see one.”

“What did the company doctor say?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “That quack only spent a couple minutes listening to your aunt complain. Then he stuck up his hand in front of her face to tell her to shut up and wrote her a prescription for pills.”

“Did them pills help?”

“They turned her into a zombie.”

I ain’t never heard that weird word afore. “What’s a zombie?” I asked.

“The living dead.”

I got all worried. “Aunt Ethel Mae died and was alive at the same time?”

“No, no. Not like that.” Uncle William grinned, and he don’t do that often. “I saw this here scary movie at the picture show in Charleston. These dead people comed back alive, but they sure didn’t act like their old selves. Their eyes was all glazed over, and they looked at people but didn’t really see them. It’s like their bodies was alive but their brains wasn’t there. That’s the way your aunt Ethel Mae was on them pills.”

“Are there really and truly zombies?” I asked. I kept thinking about Gran and BJ instead of Aunt Ethel Mae. I wish they would come back alive, but not like that.

Uncle William chuckled deep in his throat like the laugh was swallowed and couldn’t get out. Then he looked me in the face and saw I wasn’t kidding. “No, Lydia, them zombies was just made up by some guy that had too much time on his hands.”

That made me feel better. Then I thought about Aunt Ethel Mae again. “What did you do about them pills?”

“I flushed them down the toilet and filled the bottle with aspirin. After a few days, your aunt said, ‘Them pills don’t do me no more good than aspirin.’ She stopped taking them, so that was the end of that.” He looked at me real stern. “You don’t need to be telling her about them pills going down the toilet, you hear?”

“I won’t.” I crossed my heart to promise. I felt real good that Uncle William shared a secret with me, and a little afeared about that there stern look he gived me.

It sure weren’t easy for us to get BJ all the doctoring care he needed. We was all so happy that BJ was going to have his medical bills paid for, even iffen we had to take him to Ohio. Mama once told me that we never could have knowed that the cost would be higher than any amount of money.

She told me that Jake’s mama said the same thing. Them doctors was busy with their young’uns, so mama and her went to the waiting room to drink coffee and talk. Jake’s mama was real glad to get Jake into a white hospital. They moved up to Ohio from Alabama. Her and her husband and Jake’s big sister was all crowded into her brother’s family’s house. She thought Jake would get better care by being part of a study on blood diseases.

Jake’s mama also expected Negroes to be treated better north of the Mason-Dixon Line. But them Ohio doctors and nurses looked at skin color just the same. It made her wonder iffen Jake would have been better off in Alabama. They had lots of friends. Most of their family lived close by down South, and some of them had sickle-cell. “At least they would have understood,” she told Mama. “The Negro doctors would have treated us with respect and done the best they could to help Jake, even if they didn’t have a nice hospital to work in.”

As it turned out, that hospital in Ohio didn’t do BJ or Jake much good, at least as far as I can tell. After one of his hospital stays, BJ told me Jake wasn’t there. He asked Nurse Chapel iffen she knew how Jake was getting on. Nurse Chapel was setting up things on the nightstand aside his bed and didn’t even look at him. “He passed away a couple of weeks ago,” she said, as iffen she was telling him about the weather outside.

BJ said he got so angry that he felt like he had a hornet’s nest inside of him. He hopped offen the bed and stood between Nurse Chapel and the nightstand. “You tell me right now what happened to him!” he yelled.

“Get back in that bed this instant,” she said, grabbing his shoulder.

BJ shrugged off her hand and kept a-staring hard at her. “No, you tell me now.” He started breathing hard and coughing.

“All right,” she said. “Lower your voice. He contracted the flu. Children with sickle-cell anemia have a harder time fighting off illnesses like that. It took his life. Now get back into bed.”

BJ said them hornets inside of him started buzzing so loud that he didn’t hardly know what he was doing. He kept on shouting, “No, no, no! It’s not fair!” Nurse Chapel grabbed his arms, and he started kicking her. He said he barely remembered what happened next. She pushed a button. Some orderlies runned in and held him in bed while Nurse Chapel gived him a shot to calm him down.

Over the next few days, BJ said they forced him to take pills that made him sleep. Maybe that’s what Uncle William meant about being a zombie.

When BJ comed home, he talked a lot about Jake. He said them doctors might of tried to fog up his brain, but he weren’t never forgetting about his best friend. He knowed he was going to see Jake again someday and they would have a good talk about them doctors and nurses. I didn’t say nothing, but I sure didn’t like to hear him saying things like that.

I think about Jake’s mama sometimes. I wonder iffen she knows what happened to BJ and my mama. It sure seems like they have a lot in common, both of them losing their sons and all.

And I also think about BJ and Jake, causing mischief up there in Heaven, keeping the angels right busy.





21





It’s about Mr. Hinkle’s betrothed.




MONDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1953

I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking about talking to Mr. Hinkle again today and how I still feel like I failed my mama. So I was plumb tuckered out this morning. Afore I went out the door to school, Aunt Ethel Mae called to me. “Lydia, me and William decided you should ought to have yourself a new coat for Christmas. He’s going to take us to Charleston tomorrow and drop us off so us girls can shop.”

I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t know iffen I should. “Thank you, Aunt Ethel Mae,” I told her, wanting to bounce up and down but knowing better.

“You’re right welcome,” she said. “Now get on to school with you.”

I forgot all about being wore out as I walked to school. I was excited about going to Charleston and seeing Christmas lights in all them stores. Maybe the Salvation Army band would be playing Christmas carols. I wondered iffen we might get us some hot chocolate at Kresge’s 5 and 10. I could feel that warm cup with that candy-bar smell in my hands already. They put whipped cream and a bright red cherry on top. Me and Mama and BJ did that one time. Uncle William dropped us off while he went to do some errands. We didn’t have no money for fancy gifts, but BJ said looking at them lights and drinking that hot chocolate was the best gifts ever. I thought so, too.

This time, I was going to get me a brand-spanking-new store-bought coat. I figured out I would like me a blue one. And I could tear my old coat into strips to make a quilt. Then I could still keep Gran close to me.

I had me two knots in my stomach today—one on account of thinking about staying after school and the other on account of being excited about my new coat.

After lunch, someone knocked on the door, and Mr. Hinkle went to answer it. A pretty lady with blond hair and blue-green eyes stood there. She had on this dark green suit and a little hat to match. She looked like some Hollywood movie star and smelled like gardenias. All them boys in my class sat up real straight when they seen her.

“Class,” Mr. Hinkle said, “this is Miss Parker. She and I are engaged to be married.” Miss Parker held up her left hand and showed us the ring. My heart felt real funny, like it sunk lower inside me. I ain’t sure why.

“Miss Parker’s family lives in Charleston, and she’s staying with them over the holidays,” Mr. Hinkle said. “We met when we were students at Ohio State. She’s working in Ohio this year, but she’s going to move back to Charleston next summer. We plan to marry in June, and we hope all of you will come.” The two of them looked all goofy-eyed at each other. Really and truly goofy-eyed. My own teacher!

“I invited her to spend the afternoon with us. Will you help her feel welcome?” Mr. Hinkle asked.

“Good afternoon, Miss Parker,” we all sang. I weren’t too sure about her being in our classroom, even iffen she was Mr. Hinkle’s betrothed.

“I hope you really do have yourself a good afternoon,” Bobby blurted out. His face and ears got all red. We all laughed.

Miss Parker laughed, too. “Why, thank you,” she said. “Mr. Hinkle has said such wonderful things about all of you that I couldn’t wait to meet you.”

Us girls sat up straighter, too, when she said that. I felt real proud that Mr. Hinkle had told her about us. She walked around as we done our work. One time she bent down over me as I wrote a story. “Lydia,” she whispered, “I understand you write beautiful stories. Maybe you’ll let me read some of them one day.” Then she stood up straight and walked to somebody else’s desk.

I stared after her. I didn’t hear her call nobody else by their name, and I kept trying to puzzle out how come she knowed mine. I got all atwitter thinking about it. Then I got to wondering about staying after school. Was Mr. Hinkle going to tell me to go on home so he could spend time with Miss Parker? I weren’t too sure what to make of it.

When school let out, I didn’t know iffen I should get up and go with them other kids or stay behind. Mr. Hinkle must have figured out I was all confused.

“Lydia,” he said, “after Miss Parker and I walk the other students outside, we’ll be right back.”

Maggie stuck her tongue out at me.

“That’s enough of that, young lady,” Mr. Hinkle said to Maggie. “I’ll see you after school when we get back from Christmas vacation.”

“Yes, Mr. Hinkle,” Maggie said all sticky-sweet-like.

Mr. Hinkle didn’t see Maggie smile when she walked out the door, but I sure did. I bet she was real glad she was going to get to stay after school with Mr. Hinkle. And I didn’t like it nary one little bit. I ain’t sure why it bothered me so much.

I got out a piece of paper and my pencil. I figured with Miss Parker being here, me and Mr. Hinkle wouldn’t be talking about my mama. I would have me a boring time reading want ads instead of telling him about that trial. I felt right relieved and right disappointed at the same time.

When Mr. Hinkle and Miss Parker come in the classroom, they each pulled a chair up close to my desk. I could feel my eyes get wide as I pushed back as far as I could into my seat.

Mr. Hinkle got to talking right away. “Lydia, there’s something I didn’t tell the rest of the class that you need to know about Julia—I mean, Miss Parker.” He looked at her.

“I’m a lawyer, Lydia,” Miss Parker said.

“A lawyer?” I said real soft. “But I thought lawyers was all menfolk.”

She smiled at me, a real nice, gentle-like smile. “Most of them are, Lydia. But women can achieve their dreams, too, if they’re willing to work hard for them.”

Mr. Hinkle smiled at her, and then he turned to look at me. “Lydia, when I told Miss Parker what you said about—”

“You told her what I said?” I felt tears filling up my eyes.

“You need to understand that I thought—”

“You told her what I said.” I turned my face away from him and shut my eyes. Some tears rolled down my face. I started to reach into my bobby sock. Then I figured out I didn’t want Mr. Hinkle’s handkerchief touching my face no more.

Miss Parker tried to take my hand. “Lydia, I—”

I pulled my hand away from her. She didn’t try to take it again. “All right, Lydia,” she said. “I know you’re hurt and angry. Sam—your teacher—did the right thing by talking to me. He thought maybe I could help your mother, and he might be right.”

I didn’t look at them, and I still didn’t say nothing. I had done gone and disgraced my uncle and aunt real bad this time. And they planned to take me to Charleston and get me a new coat and everthing. And I already knowed all about lawyers. Ain’t no lawyer going to help my mama get out of jail. They just make things a heap worse.

“You have to trust me—both of us, Lydia—if we’re going to do anything for your mother,” Miss Parker said.

“Lydia, look at me,” Mr. Hinkle said. I kept my head turned away and my eyes shut tight. “Look at me!” he said again, a little louder this time. I kept my head down, but I looked up at him. “I know you must feel like I’ve betrayed you, but I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. I care about you. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded—just a little. Miss Parker smiled when I done that—just a little.

“Lydia, tell me again what your dream is,” Mr. Hinkle said.

I didn’t say nothing.

“Tell me your dream,” he said louder.

I didn’t say nothing. He scooted his chair up closer to me.

“Tell me your dream!” he said as loud as that preacher at Uncle William’s church.

“To get my mama out of jail!” I said, real mean-like, looking him right in the eye. Then I started up crying. I reached down and got Mr. Hinkle’s handkerchief out of my bobby sock and wiped my face with it. He smiled at me when I done that.

Miss Parker reached over and took my hand again. I didn’t pull away this time. Her hand felt all soft, like Mama’s. When I kept on crying, she put her arm around me, and I leaned against her shoulder. “I miss Mama so much,” I told them.

“This has all been so horrible for you, Lydia. But you’ve been incredibly strong,” Miss Parker told me. “I know you’re going to find the strength to do what else needs to be done.”

But my mama was in jail because I was so weak. I knowed that her and Mr. Hinkle would be terrible ashamed of me when they found out. And then Mr. Hinkle asked me the question I was most afeared of.

“Lydia, can you tell us what happened at that trial?”

I bit my lip and didn’t say nothing. I just shook my head no.

“Lydia, I know this is hard for you,” Miss Parker said. “But this is for your mother. You must talk to us.”

“But I ain’t supposed to,” I choked out.

“Who told you that, Lydia?” Mr. Hinkle asked.

“My uncle and aunt. They said they done been disgraced enough already. They said I best forget all about it and get on with my life.”

Mr. Hinkle and Miss Parker looked at each another. Miss Parker sighed and shook her head. Mr. Hinkle looked back at me and said, “I’ve met your aunt and uncle. I know they’re good people and want to do what’s right for you. The problem is that they’ve given up hope. You haven’t, Lydia—that’s why you still carry this dream. And Miss Parker and I haven’t given up hope either.”

“How come?” I asked.

“Lydia, when I first read about your mother’s case in the paper and saw what they had accused her of—” Miss Parker began.

“Child ’dangerment and kidnapping across state lines,” I said softly for her. I rememorized them words.

“Yes, Lydia, child endangerment, which means causing serious danger to a child, and kidnapping, which means taking a child away from the people who are supposed to be taking care of that child. Anyway, if I were BJ’s mother, I would have done what your mother did.

“I thought surely she would be acquitted—cleared of the charges,” Miss Parker went on. “I was enraged when I found out she had been found guilty. I didn’t think there was anything I could do about it, though, until Sam—Mr. Hinkle—told me about talking to you. Lydia, I must know the whole story from you before I can decide if I can help. You need to understand that sometimes the real disgrace is not talking when the truth needs to be told.”

I started up crying again. “I know that real good,” I said, “ ’cause that’s what I done to my mama.”

“Tell us about it, Lydia,” Mr. Hinkle said.

I swallowed hard. “We didn’t have us no money, so they gived us this lawyer-man for free,” I told her. “Uncle William said that man might as well been working for them big-city doctors. Excepten Uncle William used some bad words when he said it.”

“Why did your uncle say that?” Miss Parker asked.

“That lawyer-man—he kept on a-looking at his papers like he didn’t study up on us at all. He couldn’t even recollect Mama and BJ’s names without glancing at them sheets.”

Miss Parker sighed. “Some of those court-appointed lawyers are excellent and caring. Others border on incompetent, which means they have no clue what they’re doing. It sounds as though the one you had did more than sit on the border. He should not be allowed to practice. Lydia, do you know what I mean by witnesses?” Miss Parker asked.

“Yes, ma’am. The folks who done spoke for or against my mama. They kept on saying, ‘Next witness,’ and ‘Your witness.’ ”

“How about testify and giving a testimony?”

“Folks do that in our church. That’s when you tell about something that happened to you that God helped you with.”

“That’s right. In the courtroom, it means telling the truth about anything that happened to you that might shed some light on whether someone is innocent or guilty of a crime. Who did your mother’s lawyer call as witnesses, Lydia?”

I bit my lip and looked down at my shoes. “Me and Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae.”

“No one else?”

“No, ma’am.”

Miss Parker sighed real big. “All right, Lydia. I need you to tell me what happened when you were called to testify.”

Big ol’ tears started falling out of my eyes.

“You can do this, Lydia,” Mr. Hinkle said.

My voice was choky, but I pushed the words out. “When I first went into that big room full of all them people, I felt right afeared. Then I saw my mama sitting up front. I called out to her and started to run over to see her. But Uncle William grabbed me by the shoulder. He told me I couldn’t go up there. I had to sit with him and Aunt Ethel Mae.”

Miss Parker had some tears in her eyes. “I know, Lydia. They have some rules that are really hard to understand sometimes. What happened next?”

“This man in a big black robe—they called him a judge—he come in and everbody had to stand up. Then this other lawyer—not my mama’s lawyer—he got up and said awful things about Mama. He said she murdered my brother, BJ, by taking him out of that hospital. I wanted to stand up and say, ‘No she didn’t neither!’

“Uncle William looked real mad, too. But he held on to my arm tight, and I knowed I couldn’t say nothing. And all Mama’s lawyer said—he read it from his paper—was that Mama didn’t understand what she was a-doing. But Mama knowed what she was a-doing. She brought BJ home so he could die with his kin.”

“I believe you, Lydia,” Miss Parker said. “Then what happened?”

“I started up crying real hard, thinking about them telling all them lies about my mama. Uncle William told me to hush up, but I couldn’t. Then that judge-man said, ‘Somebody get that child out of here.’ A woman in a black uniform come over and told me to go with her. I didn’t want to, but Uncle William made me.”

“Where did she take you, Lydia?”

“We went to this little room with a desk and some chairs. It had a radio in it, and she said I could listen to the radio iffen I wanted. I didn’t want to. I asked her iffen I couldn’t go back in to be with my mama, but she said no. She said they would take me back in there later.”

“Oh, Lydia,” Miss Parker said, “you must have been so frightened and confused.”

I nodded. “When the lady come back in, she said the hospital’s lawyer was done talking to people, and now they was a-taking a break. Then it would be Mama’s lawyer’s turn, and he’d call me to go up there to speak first. She said iffen I didn’t start up crying and making noise no more, I could sit with my uncle again when I got done.”

“So then you were called as a witness,” Miss Parker said.

“Yes, ma’am. I was afeared to talk in front of all them people, but I knowed I had to speak up for my mama. I wanted to tell them folks how much my mama loved BJ and how them doctors didn’t.”

“That would have been good for people to know, Lydia,” Miss Parker said.

“Some man with a big voice said, ‘The defense calls Lydia Jane Hawkins.’ My heart beat so fast and hard I thought it might pop right out of my chest. My legs was all shaky like that green Jell-O we got at the cafeteria in BJ’s hospital. I weren’t too sure I could make it up there. But then Mama turned around and smiled at me. She looked so beautiful, just like always. I wanted to run to her again so I could hug her and smell her hair. But I just smiled back and told my legs to keep walking.”

“You were very brave, Lydia,” Mr. Hinkle said.

The tears started up again when he said that. I wiped at them with the handkerchief. “So I got up to the front, and the man with the big voice told me to put my left hand on the Bible and hold up my right hand, so I did. But I felt real puzzled. This weren’t no church. How come he told me to put my hand on a Bible? And then he said some words that I rememorized when he said them to my uncle and aunt when it was their turn—real scary words.”

“What words did he say, Lydia?” Miss Parker asked.

I repeated them words for Miss Parker and Mr. Hinkle. “Do you solemnly swear before almighty God, the seeker of all hearts, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as you will so answer on that last great day?”

Miss Parker and Mr. Hinkle looked at one another. Mr. Hinkle whistled and shook his head. “What did you do, Lydia?”

“I knowed you ain’t suppose to swear on the Bible. Gran and Pastor John both taught me that real good. So I pulled my hand away and took a couple of steps back. All the words I planned to say about my mama got choked up inside my throat. That judge-man said, ‘The child is obviously not competent to be a witness. Have her step down.’

“When I walked back to my seat, I saw Mama mouth ‘I love you, Lydia’ and ‘It’s okay.’ I held back crying on account of I didn’t want that judge-man to send me back to that room.”

“Oh, Lydia,” Miss Parker said.

“I know you must be mighty ashamed of me. I should of spoke up for my mama, even iffen God got real mad at me for swearing on that Bible.” I started sobbing.

Miss Parker and Mr. Hinkle both patted me on the back, real soft-like. Then Mr. Hinkle left the room. “No, Lydia, we are not ashamed of you,” Miss Parker said. “We understand why you did what you did. I’m ashamed of and angry at that lawyer of your mother’s. He should have told you what would happen during the trial. Now, I know this is hard, and I know you’re tired. But I need to ask you a few more questions. Do you think you can answer them?”

Mr. Hinkle comed back in with a cup of water. I nodded to Miss Parker, and then I drunk the water.

“What happened when your uncle and aunt were called as witnesses?” Miss Parker asked.

“Uncle William got all mad when them lawyers started asking him questions. That judge-man kept on threatening to throw him in jail iffen he didn’t settle down. And Aunt Ethel Mae pretty much just cried when her turn comed up.

“When they finished up with Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae, them lawyers talked to the people that would decide what happened to Mama. That judge-man told us all to go out while them people figured it out. When he called us back, them folks had up and decided the wrong thing. They believed Mama killed BJ, and Mama had to go to prison. I cried and tried to run to Mama, but Uncle William grabbed me. ‘You can’t, Lydia,’ he said without looking at me. Them guards took Mama away. She just hung her head. Me and Aunt Ethel Mae held on to each other and cried. Even Uncle William wiped his eyes.”

None of us said nothing for a time. Then Miss Parker spoke. “Lydia, there are a couple of other things I need to know. Did your doctor or pastor from West Virginia testify?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Do you remember telling Sam about the lady who told your mother not to read those papers before she signed them?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you remember what she looked like? Do you think you could pick her out of a group of people?”

“Yes, ma’am. I rememorize things real good.”

Mr. Hinkle looked at her. “That’s true, Julia. Lydia has an extraordinary memory.”

“Yes, I can tell from what’s she’s told us already. It’s quite remarkable.”

I smiled real big when they said them things about me.

Miss Parker smiled. “That’s excellent Lydia. Now, I understand your uncle was also in the room when that woman said not to read the papers. Is that true?”

“Yes, ma’am. He got in a big huff about it.”

“Lydia,” Miss Parker said. “I think I can help your mother, but I’ll need you to be a witness again. Can you do that?”

I kept thinking about what happened the last time. I felt real dizzy. “I don’t know.”

“We realize it will be difficult,” Mr. Hinkle said. “But Miss Parker and I believe you can do this.”

“But that judge said I wasn’t competent. I asked Uncle William what that word meant after Mama went to jail. He said, ‘That fool of a judge was a-saying you wasn’t smart enough to speak about your own mother.’ ”

“Oh, come on, now, Lydia,” Mr. Hinkle said. “We all know that’s not true.” He winked at me.

I grinned at him. But then I got all tight inside again. “I want to do this for my mama, but I’m still afeared I won’t be able to.”

“Will you try, Lydia?” Miss Parker asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll try.”

“That’s all we can ask.”

“But, Miss Parker—”

“Yes, Lydia.”

“My mama and me, well, we ain’t got—I mean, we don’t have much money. I know lawyers cost lots of money excepten when the judge gives you one. I heard Uncle William say he wished he could afford to get a good one for Mama. I got me seventy-two cents saved up in a jar in my dresser drawer to call Mama. You can have that. And Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae was—I mean, were—planning on buying me a new coat tomorrow. Maybe I could ask them to give me that money to give to you.”

Miss Parker patted my hand. “Don’t worry about that, Lydia. Sometimes lawyers take cases they believe are important pro bono—that means free of charge. Assuming your mother agrees, we’re going to do an appeal, which means we are going to tell the judge why the first trial was unfair to your mother. I hope the judge agrees so she can get another trial. If this thing turns out the way I think it will, someday soon your mother’s coming home.”

Then Miss Parker hit her fist on Mr. Hinkle’s desk. “On top of that, we’re going to sue that hospital for telling your mother to sign the papers without reading them and having her questions answered. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that hospital doesn’t treat anyone the way it treated your mother. If everything turns out the way I hope it will, your mother is going to have more money than she’s ever had.”

I didn’t care so much about the money, but I sure liked hearing them words “coming home.”