Child of the Mountains

27





It’s about dinner, singing, and Jake’s mama.




TUESDAY, MARCH 9, 1954

Tomorrow is Mama’s new trial. Ever since I went to the cemetery, I knowed that I want Mama back home. That’s still my dream. And I knowed I want to live with her again. I feel confused about myself sometimes, and it troubles me that all I thought about who I be is gone. I wish Mama and Gran would of told me the truth.

I sure have changed a lot since Mama was took away from me. I wonder iffen Mama has changed. Will her and me be able to talk and feel close to each other after all we been through?

Miss Parker done a real good job for Mama with the appeal. The judge agreed to the reasons why Mama deserved another trial. Somebody else’s trial needed to be changed, so the judge told Miss Parker a month ago that he had an opening tomorrow.

Miss Parker says she’s real hopeful about this new trial. But she also says I ought to be prepared that Mama might not win this trial either. I don’t know how I can be prepared for that.

Me and Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae drove up to Ohio yesterday morning. Miss Parker and Mr. Hinkle met us there. Pastor John and Doc Smythson comed up this evening to have dinner with us.

Miss Parker reserved us a room at a real nice hotel. It’s called a suite. I have my own bedroom. It’s the fanciest place I ever slept in my life. Miss Parker even paid for it. She said when Mama wins her civil case against the hospital, we can pay her back iffen we want.

That hotel even had one of them newfangled television sets in the lobby. It sure is weird seeing little fuzzy gray people moving across that there box. Them people’s voices come right out of the box, too, just like on the radio.

I don’t think them television sets be for me. You have to stare at the picture. I like to move around and do stuff when I listen to the radio. Besides, I make much better pictures in my head than the pictures of them people on that little screen. And my head pictures be full of colors!

Yesterday afternoon after we got settled in at the hotel, I went shopping with Miss Parker for a new outfit to help give me confidence. We went to a big store call Lazarus. Aunt Ethel Mae didn’t want to go with us. She said she was all wore out from the trip and needed to rest up. I was right surprised on account of how much she likes shopping. She said she would shop after the trial when she wasn’t so worked up. Uncle William gived me some money to buy her a present.

So me and Miss Parker went all by ourselves. I tried on a whole bunch of dresses, and Miss Parker and me chose a navy blue one with a white collar. She said the jury would take me seriously in that dress.

The store also had a whole floor that sold shoes. “Can we just put the shoe beside my foot to see iffen it looks like it will fit?” I asked Miss Parker.

Miss Parker laughed. “I don’t think you want to buy shoes that you haven’t tried on. You can’t tell if they’ll be comfortable by looking at them.”

“Oh,” I said. I took my shoes off. Miss Parker saw the cardboard I had stuffed in them. Then she turned her head away real quick. My face felt hot, and I looked away, too, until the man that tried shoes on my feet asked me how I liked them.

I picked out what the salesman called white patent leather Mary Janes. They was so shiny I could see my face in them. Miss Parker said she thought maybe I should pick out some school shoes, too, just in case my Mary Janes was too tight to wear to the trial.

Then Miss Parker took me to a place in Lazarus that cuts hair. They called it a beauty salon instead of a beauty shop. I got me one of them fancy big-city hairstyles. The woman that cut my hair said she didn’t want to take much of it off—that she thought it was real pretty long. She cut bangs in the front and showed me how to use bobby pins to curl them. Then she rolled the ends of my hair in tight little curlers. When my hair dried, I learned how to put it up in a ponytail.

“Lydia, you look like a movie star,” Miss Parker said.

When I seen myself in that mirror with all the lights shining down on me, I was real surprised that it was me staring back. I looked real growed up.

Miss Parker bought me three scarves to cover the rubber band when I wore my hair in a ponytail. I picked out a white one that matched the collar of my new dress and a red and a green one to wear to school. I paid for a little bright blue scarf for Aunt Ethel Mae with the money Uncle William gived me. She likes to wear them tied at the side of her neck.

We picked out something nice for Mama to wear, too. Mama’s favorite color is green—the color of spring when everthing’s fresh and new. So I picked out a light green dress for her. It has skinny brown stripes. We found her a dark brown cardigan sweater the color of hot chocolate, and dark brown shoes to match.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Lydia,” Miss Parker said. “Your mother will love it. She has such a tiny waist, and the dress will show off her attractive figure.” Miss Parker also bought her some makeup, a brown pocketbook that she said Mama would need when she comed home (I liked when she said that), some hankies, and two new pairs of nylon stockings with seams up the back.

I looked through them boxes of stockings, thinking about what it must be like to be a growed-up lady. I think Miss Parker done read my mind. “Lydia, you’re a young lady now,” she said. “I think you’re too old to wear bobby socks to something as important as a trial—even the pretty ones we bought you to match your dress. Would you like to have your first pair of nylons?”

“Oh, yes!” I said.

She laughed. “It’s not as much fun as you think, believe me. You have to be very careful with them so you don’t get a run. If we get you a pair of nylons, we have to get you a razor so you can shave your legs. And we can’t forget a garter belt.”

“I’ll be real careful, I promise, but iffen it’s too much trouble, I can wear socks.” I was sure hoping she didn’t think it was too much trouble.

She was already trying to find my size in nylons. “We should get some clear fingernail polish. You can use it to paint your nails, but more importantly, you’ll use it to stop a run eventually. All you do is dab a little clear polish around the hole and on the sides of the run.”

We stopped by a drugstore, and she bought me a razor, deodorant, clear fingernail polish, and my first tube of light pink lipstick. It’s called Blushing Pink, and Miss Parker said it was perfect for someone my age. Miss Parker said I also needed a bag of rubber bands, some bobby pins, and curlers so I could take care of my new hairdo.

I couldn’t hardly believe it! My first pair of nylons! And lipstick! When we got back from shopping, Aunt Ethel Mae and Miss Parker and me told Uncle William and Mr. Hinkle to stay downstairs in the hotel to get something to drink. Then us womenfolk went up to my room so’s they could help me with my new things.

Them garter belts sure are weird contraptions! We laughed until our stomachs ached when they tried to teach me how to use that thing. I just about done a dance trying to get them seams in the nylons straight up the backs of my legs.

“Just be thankful you ain’t got to wear a girdle, darling,” Aunt Ethel Mae told me. “That’s something you want to put off as long as possible!”

Miss Parker nodded. “I agree with your aunt on that one, Lydia!”

After I got the hang of using the garter belt, I took them nylons off and put them back in the box. Then they showed me about making up a soap lather to put on my legs and under my arms. They left me alone in the bathroom to give it a try. I took a razor blade out of the little container and placed it inside the razor. Then I screwed the razor up tight. My hands shook just a-thinking about scraping a razor up and down my skin. I let out a few ouches, but it weren’t too bad. The more I done it, the easier it got. I wiped off my legs and armpits with a towel and got the bleeding to stop in a few places by pushing on them spots with toilet paper.

Most of the time I just wet a bar of soap and run it up and down my armpits in the mornings to keep them from stinking. This time, I put on the deodorant. “Ouch! It burns!” I said out loud afore I thought.

“What’s wrong, Lydia?” Miss Parker asked from outside the door.

“That deodorant hurts!” I told her.

Miss Parker and Aunt Ethel Mae started up laughing. “I’m sorry, Lydia. We should have warned you not to put that on right after you shave your armpits,” Miss Parker said.

The burning didn’t last too long. I put my clothes back on and looked in the drugstore poke. The lipstick seemed to stare back at me from the bottom of the bag. When I told Aunt Ethel Mae everthing we bought, she said I should only wear the lipstick for special days like Mama’s trial. She said she didn’t want people thinking I was a hussy, whatever that is. Miss Parker looked at Aunt Ethel Mae kind of strange when she said that, but she didn’t say nothing.

I couldn’t help myself. I pulled the lipstick out of the poke and held the tube up to my nose to smell it. I thought it would smell like flowers or cherries, but it didn’t smell hardly at all. I touched it with my finger. The lipstick felt sticky, sort of like peanut butter. The color was so pretty, like the soft pink roses Gramps had planted for Gran. They blossomed ever year in the spring in back of our house in Paradise. I wished the lipstick smelled like them roses.

I knowed I shouldn’t ought to do it, but I stroked the lipstick on my lips and looked at myself in the mirror. My face seemed to be getting a little longer, and my freckles didn’t look so dark no more. My hair hung almost to my waist, even after the lady at the beauty salon cut a couple of inches off. I kept thinking about Gran saying I was going to be a looker someday. I wondered iffen a boy might ever say I looked pretty. I thought that might feel right nice iffen he did.

I took one more long look at myself. In six days, I would be twelve years old. All these nice things Miss Parker done for me was like birthday presents—more presents than I ever got in my whole entire life for a birthday or even for Christmas. But I knowed the only thing I really wanted for turning twelve was for Mama to come home. I would give all them presents back for that to happen.

I wiped some soap on the washcloth and scrubbed the lipstick offen my lips. I was real glad the lipstick was a light color, on account of not being able to get it offen the washcloth. I didn’t know lipstick stained like that. I folded it up real good so the lipstick didn’t show and laid it on the edge of the bathtub. I hoped the hotel didn’t make us pay for that washcloth. I felt real bad about that, but I was afeared to let Aunt Ethel Mae and Miss Parker know what I had gone and done.

I walked out of the bathroom, barefoot and with my socks in one hand. “Child, I wondered if you was ever coming out of there,” Aunt Ethel Mae said. “Let’s see how you did.”

I pulled up my skirt a little with my other hand and turned a circle to show them my hairless legs. They cheered and laughed. “Well done, Lydia,” Miss Parker said. “Welcome to womanhood!”

After I put my shoes and socks on, we went downstairs to have supper with Mr. Hinkle and Miss Parker in the hotel cafeteria. I was right surprised to see Jake’s mama, Doc Smythson, and Pastor John waiting for us in the lobby. Miss Parker explained that she had invited them to join us. I never expected to see Jake’s mama again. Miss Parker introduced everone by their full names—Mrs. Sheila Nowling, Dr. David Smythson, Reverend John Legg, Mr. William Garton, Mrs. Ethel Mae Garton, and Miss Lydia Hawkins.

I wanted to ask Mrs. Nowling about being there, but I didn’t think it would be polite. I was just glad to see her again. I sat between her and Miss Parker, but we didn’t have a chance to talk afore dinner, ’cause Miss Parker was busy telling people what to expect during the trial.

Miss Parker offered to order for me. I said sure on account of not knowing what a lot of that stuff was on the menu. She ordered me a steak, a baked potato with sour cream, broccoli and cheese, and a salad with Thousand Island dressing. For dessert I had something called Boston cream pie. That Boston cream pie was even better than hot chocolate at Kresge’s 5 and 10! At first I thought it was just yellow cake with chocolate icing, but it also had vanilla pudding like Gran used to make in the middle of it. Yum!

I ain’t never had steak afore. It was so tender I barely had to chew—a little salty and real moist. I said a inside thank-you to the cow that gived up its life for my meal. Gran learned me and BJ to do that. Mama said it was on account of Gran’s Cherokee blood that she had so much caring for animals and the land. My great-grandmother was a full-blooded Indian. I feel right proud about that.

When we started eating dessert, Jake’s mama turned to me. “Lydia, I’m glad you sat beside me,” she said. “I have some things I want to tell you. I visited your mother in prison yesterday.”

“You got to talk to her?”

“Yes, I visited for as long as they allowed—about twenty minutes.”

“What did she say?”

“She wanted me to tell you how much she loves and misses you. Then we talked about what happened to your brother. I told her how sad I was when I read the article about her and BJ. My cousin sent it to me in Alabama. I was so thankful Miss Parker contacted me about coming up here to speak at the new trial. That woman who registered patients at the hospital did the same thing to my husband and me that she did to your family. She told us not to bother reading the contract because we wouldn’t be able to understand it.”

“What did you do?”

“I skimmed it as quickly as I could, but like your mother, I knew signing that paper, whatever it said, was the only way to get Jake into the hospital. That woman kept sighing, shaking her head, and tapping a pencil while I tried to read it. When I asked a question, she said, ‘Do you want him in the study or not?’ I signed. I doubt that she told those rich white folks who came to her office not to read the contract.”

“I didn’t know that happened to you, too.”

“When Jake and BJ were in the hospital together, your mother and I talked about the way that woman treated us. Sarah told Miss Parker about our conversation. I think I’m going to be able to help your mother tomorrow, Lydia.”

“Thank you,” I said. Afore I thought twice, I scooted my chair back and reached over to hug her.

She hugged me, too. Then she smoothed my hair behind my ear with her hand and smiled at me. I didn’t get the ponytail tight enough and some strands of my hair had come out. “You know, Lydia, Jake’s sister, Janine, is only a year younger than you. I don’t think you ever got to meet her. She always stayed at my cousin’s house when we went to the hospital because she was too young to visit Jake. You two have a lot in common.”

“We sure do. Just like you and Mama and BJ and Jake.”

Mrs. Nowling nodded. “That’s true. Your mother and I have so much in common that for a few minutes yesterday we didn’t talk at all. She put her hand to the glass that separated us, and I put my hand up to hers, almost touching but not quite. But all that we shared in our hearts connected.”

“That sounds real special.”

“It was. It meant a lot to both of us, Lydia. We took comfort from each other.” She smiled, and then she pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and handed it to me. “I wrote down my daughter’s name and address. I thought you might like to write to her. Janine stayed behind with her father so she wouldn’t miss school. I’m going to have to leave as soon as the trial is over, so we probably won’t have a chance to talk again. I’m a teacher, and I need to get back to my students. I had to stop teaching when we took Jake to Ohio, but the Negro school where I live in Alabama desperately needs qualified teachers. I went back as soon as I could.”

“Mr. Hinkle said he read in the newspaper that the Supreme Court is trying to decide whether to make a law that there can’t be no more separate Negro schools. He said iffen they pass that law, Negro children and white children will go to school together, the way it always should have been.”

“It’s going to take schools in the South a long time to abide by that law, Lydia, even if the Supreme Court passes it.”

“How come?”

“People are afraid to change ideas and beliefs they grew up with, even when those ideas stem from hate and ignorance.”

“I don’t see how anybody could hate you, Mrs. Nowling.”

“Thank you, Lydia. That’s where the ignorance comes in for some people—hating what you don’t know or even try to understand.”

It was hard for me to figure out what she was saying, but then I thought about how them doctors and nurses treated BJ and Jake. “It’s not just in the South, is it?” I said.

“No, Lydia. Ignorance and hate are diseases that can affect people of all colors and backgrounds. That’s why I want to teach—to help children develop skills so that they can overcome whatever obstacles other people try to place in their path. I want them to live happy and fulfilling lives.”

“Was it hard to teach kids after losing Jake?” I was thinking about how hard it was for me to see them little tykes at Halloween.

“I think teaching saved me,” Mrs. Nowling said, and smiled.

When we finished eating, we walked over to the lobby and sat down in them couches and chairs. No one else was there. Uncle William said, “Excuse me. I need to get something from the car.” When he comed back, he had the magic dulcimer wrapped in Gran’s sunshine quilt. He laid it on the little table in front of one of the couches. I ain’t never been so shocked in all my livelong life!

“Well, come on, Lydia,” Uncle William said. “You know I can’t play this by myself.” He squatted down on the floor on one side of the table. I laughed and sat on the other side. We both said:

“Fairies high and fairies low,



Come this day, your powers bestow.



Bring peace and calm and music sure,



Tranquil words and melody pure.”



Then we started up playing and even Aunt Ethel Mae sung along. We told jokes and stories, and sung all evening. People coming in and out of the lobby would stop and listen. Some of them even joined in. The lady at the desk said the hotel should hire us for entertainment. After we went to our rooms, I told Aunt Ethel Mae I was going to use the desk in the lobby to work on some homework. I worked a few math problems so I didn’t feel like I lied to her, but then I commenced to write in this here notebook. I want to remember ever single thing that happened today.

I feel all tuckered out but safe and happy—not afeared about tomorrow like I thought I would be. I think I’ll get me a good night’s sleep, dreaming about seeing my mama again.





28





It’s about Mama’s new trial.




WEDNESDAY, MARCH 10, 1954

Today I woke up confident and rested and all ready to speak up for my mama. I sure wish it would have lasted. When I put on my new dress and lipstick and nylons, I felt all growed up and real strong. But later, it was like I had fell deep down into a dark, damp well of them old feelings.

Me and Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae ate breakfast at the hotel. Doc Smythson and Pastor John stayed with a friend of Doc’s last night. Mrs. Nowling stayed with her cousin. Mr. Hinkle stayed at his parents’ house. They live on a farm not too far from here. He planned to drive in early to the city to meet Miss Parker at her parents’ house for breakfast. We was all going to meet up at the courthouse at eight. The trial would start up at nine.

I had me some pancakes and orange juice. Aunt Ethel Mae just had toast and hot tea. She kept saying stuff like “I sure do wish we didn’t have to go through this today. I feel a headache coming on. I don’t know how you’re going to deal with all this, Lydia. A young’un shouldn’t ought to have to testify. I ain’t figured out how I’m going to make myself take that stand without passing out.”

Uncle William didn’t say nothing. He just kept his eyes on his breakfast of fried eggs, sausage, and biscuits, shoveling the food in his mouth. Sometimes I think Uncle William is deaf, but only when it comes to Aunt Ethel Mae.

The more Aunt Ethel Mae carried on, the more my pancakes started up tasting like rubber. My stomach felt like I was a-swallowing rocks. I finally gived up trying to eat.

Uncle William paid the bill, and then he drove us to the courthouse. We had to drive a piece to get surrounded by all them big buildings. Aunt Ethel Mae was still a-carrying on, but I think I caught Uncle William’s deafness to her.

I stared out the window of the car. Ohio is so flat. It’s like driving on one of them pancakes I had for breakfast. Gran used to say the sun comed up at your toenails in the morning and set back down on your toenails of an evening when we was in Ohio. It always makes me feel like I don’t have no clothes on, driving around up here—like anything bad could come up on me, and I wouldn’t have nowhere to hide. Today I wished I was in the mountains again, all safe.

Uncle William let me and Aunt Ethel Mae out in front of the courthouse while he went to park. As we walked inside the door, Aunt Ethel Mae said, “Here we go to face who knows what.”

My stomach knotted up tighter inside me.

Miss Parker and everbody else who was here to help my mama was squashed up in a circle at the other end of the big hallway outside the courtroom.

“Over here,” Miss Parker called to us, and waved her hand. “Lydia and Ethel Mae, you look beautiful.” Miss Parker touched my ponytail and then my shoulder as she smiled at me.

“Do you like my hat?” Aunt Ethel Mae said as she patted it real light. “I added the feathers to make it look like the hats them movie stars wear.” I caught myself afore I rolled my eyes like Uncle William always does.

“Uh, it’s lovely,” Miss Parker said. Then she hurry-up changed the subject. “Reverend Legg has asked if he could lead us in prayer, and I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

So we all held hands and bowed our heads. Pastor John said his prayer. I didn’t hear his words on account of praying my own prayer in my heart. Please, God. Please let my mama out of that jail. Please, God, please! I heard Pastor John say amen, and everbody else said amen real long and loud. Me, too.

Then Miss Parker spoke. “We’ll be going in soon, and I would like for all of you to sit as close as you can behind Sarah,” she said. “We want the jury to see that she has as much support as possible.”

“I wish I could sit aside her,” I said. I sure did hope she would say I could.

“Lydia, let’s sit a minute on this bench,” she said. She sent all the other folks on into the courtroom.

We sat down together. “I’ve thought a lot about this, Lydia,” Miss Parker told me. “And I’ve decided that you will not be in the courtroom until you need to testify.”

I felt tears crowding up my eyes. “Please, I want to be close to my mama.”

She sighed. “I know you do, Lydia, but the prosecuting attorney is going to do everything he can to make your mother look bad. There’s no reason for you to hear it.”

“But I done heard it in that other trial. I can handle it this time. I know it.”

She sighed again. “It’s not a matter of whether you can handle it, Lydia. It’s a matter of whether you should hear it. It’s going to be worse this time. Your mother’s other lawyer was incompetent. The prosecutor knows how skilled I am. He’s going to do everything he can to make sure your mother stays in jail.”

I looked at the ground. I didn’t feel all growed up anymore. I was a little kid again. “I’m the one that be incompetent,” I told her. “That’s what the judge said. You think so, too.”

“Lydia, look at me.” I still looked at the ground. “Look at me!” she said louder. She put her finger under my chin and lifted up my face.

I looked at her.

“You know that’s not true. You must trust me. It’s not just about your having to hear them do that to your mother. You need to think of your mother, too. How do you think she’s going to feel, knowing that you’re there hearing them say everything they can to make her look bad?”

I looked down at the ground again. “She would feel awful—real sad,” I said softly.

“That’s right. She doesn’t need to be thinking about what’s going on with you. She needs to be thinking about her defense.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s okay, Lydia. I know this is hard. I’ve arranged a room for you to stay in. It might be several hours before your turn to speak. It might even be tomorrow. I’ve left a few presents in the room so you’ll have something to do while you wait. Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be.”

We walked down the hallway and she opened the door. I didn’t go in. “This is the same room,” I told her.

“You mean the same one where they took you during the last trial?”

I nodded.

“It’s different this time, Lydia. Last time, this room was filled with fear and despair. This time, let’s think of this room being filled with hope. Come see what I have for you.”

I followed her. Two packages sat on the table. They was wrapped up with paper covered in flowers and tied up with big pink bows.

“I need to go to the courtroom to be with your mother, Lydia. I know you’ll be fine. I’ll see you later,” Miss Parker said.

“Okay,” I told her.

I sat down and unwrapped the first gift. A red diary with a tiny key. The box also had a pencil that doesn’t need sharpening. You twist it and the lead comes down the point at the bottom. The package said it’s called a mechanical pencil. It also comed with a little box of lead strings to fill it up.

I opened up the diary. In blue ink, Miss Parker had wrote:

To Lydia,

The strongest young woman I know. May all the dreams you write in this diary come true.

Best wishes,

Julia Parker

I couldn’t figure out why she thought I was strong. Maybe she was just trying to be nice. I wrote today’s date at the top of the first page. That diary sure was fancier than the spiral notebook I been writing in. I could lock it and not worry about nobody reading it. I’d just have to figure out a safe place to keep the key.

Then I opened up the other package. Two books. Anne of Green Gables and Anne of the Island. I opened up Anne of Green Gables. In blue ink, Mr. Hinkle had wrote:

To Lydia,

I know you have read these books, but I also know Anne is your favorite character. Miss Parker and I thought you would appreciate personal copies. May Anne’s courage continue to inspire you.

Your teacher,

Mr. Hinkle

I felt the covers—smooth and velvety. Now I could always have Anne with me. The woody smell of them books remembered me of curling up on my bed in Paradise to read.

I turned to the first page of Anne’s first story and read about the most important day in her life. The day when she left all the bad behind, all the TRAGICAL, she called it, and started up all the good things with Matthew and Marilla.

I was thankful I had Anne to keep me company on my most important day. I sure hoped I could leave all the TRAGICAL behind. I joined Anne in her life so’s I could forget about what was going on in mine.

When I first sat down at the table, the clock in the room seemed loud, clicking by the minutes. But I was surprised when Miss Parker walked in to get me. I looked up at the clock and it was already eleven-thirty. I had read almost half of my book.

“Lydia,” she said, “you’re next to testify. I asked the judge if we could take a recess for lunch before you’re called to the stand. We need to be back at one. I thought you and I would go to lunch together. There’s a sandwich shop down the street.”

We walked to the shop and ordered hamburgers and French fries. Miss Parker asked for a cup of coffee, and I asked for a root beer. When the waitress handed us our drinks, I told Miss Parker about BJ putting raisins in the root beer back in Paradise. The two of us had a good laugh over that one. She told me about how when she was little, her brother asked her iffen she wanted half of his peanut butter sandwich. She said yes. When she took a bite, she bit off the head of a water bug he had stuffed inside. Us women decided that boys sure do weird things sometimes.

After we finished eating, we talked about what was going to happen next. She asked me iffen I recollected all the things she had taught me about trials afore Christmas. I told her yes.

Miss Parker already learned me all them big words that lawyers and judges use. She said that Mama is the defendant because she needs defending. BJ’s hospital is the plaintiff on account of them doctors complaining about Mama taking BJ out of the hospital.

Attorney is just a fancy word for lawyer. Miss Parker is the defense attorney because she defends Mama. The lawyer who tries to make Mama look guilty of doing something wrong is the prosecuting attorney. I told Miss Parker I thought he should be called the persecuting attorney. She said in Mama’s case, she agreed with me.

The jury is a group of people that listen real close to everthing that everbody says. When the lawyers finish up saying everthing they want to say, they go out to another room to decide iffen the defendant is guilty or not guilty of doing a bad thing. Iffen they say guilty, the judge decides what the punishment should be. Iffen they say not guilty, everbody gets to go home, including the defendant. I hope that’s what happens to my mama, that the jury figures out she’s not guilty, and we all get to go home to West Virginia.

When Miss Parker got done learning me all that lawyering stuff, she said I was just about ready to pass the bar—that’s a big test people take after they get all their book learning to prove they’s ready to be lawyers.

I also learned that swearing on the Bible in court means saying that you promise to God and everbody else that you ain’t going to lie. And as long as you don’t tell a lie, God will be right proud of you.

After I finished up reminding her of what she learned me, Miss Parker nodded. “Good. I’m glad you remember,” she said. “I’ve helped you understand the basics, but I want to tell you what the prosecuting attorney might ask you. He’ll want to know what your mother had you do to help get your brother out of the hospital. He’ll want to make the jury think that your mother forced you to do something that you shouldn’t have done. I can’t help you practice what to say. That should come straight from your heart. Keep your answers honest, short, and to the point. When he finishes, I’ll ask you some questions to give you a chance to explain more. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“When I ask you questions, the prosecuting attorney might try to interrupt you and say that he objects to what you are saying or the questions I ask. Don’t worry about him. I’ll take care of any interruptions he tries to make. We’ll find a way for you to say everything you want to say about your mother and your brother. And if he starts asking you questions that I don’t think are appropriate, I will interrupt him with an objection. He’s tough, Lydia. But all you need to be concerned about is telling the truth.”

When we walked back to the courthouse, I thought about what I would say. I would tell what I done to help Mama get BJ out of the hospital. I would tell about how BJ cried when Gran died on account of her not having any kin with her. And I would say that I remembered Mama of that and begged her to bring BJ home. Then I would ask all them people how Mama and I could not bring him home to die with us iffen we loved him.

So I thought I was ready. But when I walked in that big room again with all them important people, it was like I was having a nightmare and was back in Mama’s first trial. I looked at the twelve empty seats at the side of the courtroom, waiting for the judge to call in twelve strangers that would look at me like I might be a criminal. I knowed from what Miss Parker told me that they was the jury. Them people was going to decide what happened to my mama. And by deciding what happened to my mama, they was going to decide what happened to me. All at once I felt dizzy and as jumpy as a grasshopper in a henhouse.

Then I saw them people in uniforms bring in my mama—in handcuffs. Her long hair had been cut short. Her beautiful hair was gone. The dress Miss Parker and me picked out for her was too big. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up in it. Mama walked to her seat without looking up from the floor. Didn’t she know I was in the room? Why didn’t she look for me? Did she know that Uncle William told me the truth about him and Helen? Was she too ashamed? Did she still love me?

The room started spinning and Uncle William had to catch me. He sat me down on a bench. Miss Parker runned over.

“Is Lydia all right?” Miss Parker asked my uncle. “Maybe we’re expecting too much of her.” She looked at me, her eyebrows arched up high, all worried-like. “Dr. Smythson is still outside with the pastor. I’ll go get him.”

“She’ll be fine,” Uncle William said. “You just go on and do the lawyering you need to do with Sarah. I’ll tend to Lydia.”

Miss Parker looked at Uncle William like she weren’t too sure whether to leave me, but then she went to Mama’s side.

Uncle William sat down beside me. I smelled bacca on him and knowed he had hisself a smoke after lunch. He didn’t look at me when he talked. “Lydia, this sure has been a hard road for you to travel, but you got good blood running through your veins. Never forget who you be.”

Then he went to talk to Doc Smythson and Pastor John and left me alone.

I recollected Mama saying them very same words to me. “Never forget who you be.” Them was the last words she said to me afore Doc Smythson took me away from Paradise.

Uncle William and Mama knowed that I ain’t who I thought I was. It didn’t make no sense that they said that to me. What did Uncle William mean about good blood? But then I got to thinking that maybe they was saying I be more than who my mama and daddy be. That my blood runs deeper than that.

I recollected about how I felt when we drove to the courthouse—wishing I was back in the mountains. I figured something out. Them mountains is always and forever inside of me, making me who I be. My blood is like a river running through them mountains. As sure as I feel this here chair I’m sitting in right now, at the trial I felt them mountains filling up all the empty spaces inside me. Gran, Gramps, Mama, Daddy, BJ, Uncle William, Helen, and even Aunt Ethel Mae. The blood of them mountains flowed deep in all of us.

Gran always said our West Virginia mountains is like the bosom of the Almighty, keeping us protected and still in Him. That brought to mind one of them Bible verses Gran made me learn by heart. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth.

And when I looked to them hills I always carry deep inside, I felt their strength. And I felt God, who made them hills, inside of me, too. Maybe the truth of who I really be had set me free after all.

I didn’t even notice Doc Smythson standing beside me. He knelt down and looked in my eyes. “How are you doing, Lydia?” he asked, all worried. “Let me feel your pulse.”

I held my arm out to him. “I feel better,” I told him.

He looked at his watch and counted the beats. “Nice and strong,” he said, and winked at me.

“All rise!” a man shouted. We all stood up while the judge walked in and sat down. The judge remembered me of a bulldog that belonged to our neighbor in Paradise. He had saggy jowls and his face was shaped like a rectangle. He looked like he might growl. I was mighty afeared of that bulldog at first, but after we got to know each other, he turned out to be a pretty good dog. I hoped this judge would turn out to be nicer than he looked, too.

The judge called in the jury. Then we all sat down after the judge took his seat.

“The prosecution calls Lydia Hawkins, Your Honor,” the hospital’s lawyer boomed out. As I walked to the front of the courtroom, I looked over and saw my mama smile at me. She was skinny and had lost her beautiful long hair, but her eyes was just the same—blue and clear and strong.

The man that had us stand up when the judge walked in told me to place my left hand on the Bible and raise my right hand. Then he said, “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?”

I looked him in the eye and smiled. “I swear,” I said.





29





It’s about being in Paradise.




SATURDAY, APRIL 3, 1954

Me and Mama sat in the rocking chairs out on the porch today. Ears sat beside me with his big old head in my lap. I rested my elbows on the arms of the rocking chair so’s I could sew over the top of his head. The sun cozied up to us and spring finally started to peek out of the ground and the trees. The sweet smell of honeysuckle blowed a kiss to us from the side of the house.

We sewed memory quilts for BJ and Gran. Mama tore up strips out of my old coat to use for the border of Gran’s quilt. I sewed a train on BJ’s quilt that looked like the magic train. I cut me up some root beer jars out of BJ’s old brown britches. Then I sewed together two of his black socks to make a long black snake. It had a red forked tongue from one of his baby bibs. I cut the letters G, E, R, M, Y out of his black-and-red plaid shirt to sew under the snake. I figured BJ was laughing up there in Heaven about having root beer jars and a black snake on his quilt. It made me smile just to think about it.

I stopped for a minute to scratch behind Ears’ ears. He looked up at me real grateful-like.

“Mama, it sure was nice of Aunt Ethel Mae to talk her neighbor into letting me have Ears. I still ain’t figured out why she done that. She was always a-telling me what a awful, smelly old dog he was.”

Mama laughed. It sounded like little bells ringing. I felt all warm and peaceful, hearing her laugh again. “Well, Lydia, look at it this way,” she said. “She managed to get the dog out of her neighborhood.”

I laughed, too. “Aunt Ethel Mae could talk anybody into anything,” I said.

“That’s for sure and certain,” Mama agreed. “That poor neighbor didn’t have no chance against your aunt.” Mama patted Ears on the head. He looked at her and wagged his tail. Then Mama patted my hand. “You know, Lydia, your aunt and uncle love you very much. I’m sure they miss having you with them.”

I stopped sewing and looked down at the ground. “Mama, why can’t I tell nobody that Uncle William is my birth father?”

Mama sighed—not a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that sigh, but like she let go of a real heavy burden.

She lifted the quilt offen her lap and laid it in the basket next to her. “Lydia, I been waiting for you to bring it up. William said he told you. I wanted our talk about this to be when you was ready.”

Mama looked at my face. I finally turned to look at her. She had tears in her eyes. “I be so sorry we kept the truth from you, Lydia. Your gran and William and me—we never wanted you to find out the way you did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Mama?”

“It was such a hard thing to explain, Lydia. You seemed too young to be able to grasp things about war and death when you first asked about being borned. Your gran said she told you about coming out of me real easy. I was upset with her, Lydia. I figured it would make the truth harder for you to accept later on. I told her so, but she said, ‘Land sakes, Sarah, what on earth did you expect me to say when that little thing asked such a question?’ ”

I grinned a little. I could hear Gran saying that. The me-missing-her part sure was a whole lot bigger than the me-being-mad-at-her part. “Why didn’t you tell me when I got older?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Lydia. The timing never seemed right, and it was important that you not tell. Then BJ got so sick. I kept thinking in that prison cell that I wished I would have told you afore I got tooken away.”

I looked down at the ground again. “Mama, did you love BJ more than me? You birthed him.” Tears pushed out of my eyes, and I wiped them away with my hand.

Mama stood up. “Come here to me,” she said. I laid my quilting down. She real gentle pulled me up by the arm and sat down again, tugging me toward her. “Sit on my lap, Lydia.”

“No, Mama. I’m too big for that. I might hurt you.”

“Just this once, Lydia. Sit on my lap. I’m a lot stronger than I look.” She winked at me and patted her lap.

I sat down as soft as I could. She wrapped her arms around me, and I wrapped my arms around her. She held me like I weren’t much more than a baby.

“I dreamed of this day, Lydia, the whole time I was in that there prison—the day I could hold you in my arms again, my daughter,” Mama whispered to me.

Ears laid his head on my lap and pushed Mama’s hand with his nose to get some loving, too. We couldn’t help but laugh at him.

We sat that way for a time, the three of us, and then Mama said, “Your daddy wasn’t drinking back when William asked us to take you. We didn’t just take you to help William out. We was thrilled to have us a baby girl in our home. You don’t know how often I watched you sleep at night and thanked God for giving me such a precious gift. I couldn’t love you or BJ one more than the other. I always loved both of you as much as my heart can love.”

And I believed her on account of feeling how powerful her love for me was in the way she held me. She kissed me on the forehead.

I could have stayed on her lap forever, but I figured I must be getting heavy. I got up and sat back down in my rocking chair. Ears plopped down beside me to take a nap. Mama and me both picked up our quilting again and commenced to sew. “Why can’t I tell no one, Mama?” I asked.

“There’s something I never told you about your aunt Ethel Mae,” Mama said. “You’re getting on to be a woman, now. I think you deserve to know the truth about everthing.”

I couldn’t imagine what I didn’t know about Aunt Ethel Mae. I had me about all the truth I thought I could handle. But I asked anyways. “What’s that, Mama?”

“Your aunt wanted real bad to have young’uns of her own. William thought he was ready to start his own family, too. Your aunt was with child twice, but she couldn’t carry the baby either time. After she lost the second baby, the doctor said he didn’t have no choice but to take out her woman’s parts.”

“Oh, Mama, that’s terrible!”

“Yes, it’s right sad. Your aunt said she felt all dried up and useless after that. I think that might be why she’s so sickly all the time with them bad headaches and all. She turned that sad inside on herself. Them women parts is real important to how you feel about yourself and the world, Lydia.”

“Will her sad ever go away, Mama?”

“No more than our sad about Gran and BJ. But I been noticing that she ain’t complaining as much about headaches lately.”

“I have, too, Mama.”

“I think you might have helped her find out that she still has room for joy, even with the sad.”

“Like Gran used to tell us?”

“Just exactly like Gran used to tell us. ‘We can’t let our sad rob us of our joy.’ ”

“Iffen she’s doing better, why can’t we tell her?”

“William and me was afeared that she might want to try to take you as her daughter, Lydia,” Mama said. “She wanted kids real bad, and she’s so fond of you. And you know how she is when she wants something.”

My chest got tight. “No, Mama. I want to stay with you.”

“William and me think that’s best, too, Lydia. Him and me talked about this a lot since I got home. We wanted you to talk to me and ask your questions first, and we knowed that you would ask when you was ready to hear. Now that you and me talked, William and me will tell Ethel Mae the truth. No more family secrets. It ain’t fair for you to have to hide, Lydia. Secrets cause shame, and I never ever want you to feel shame.”

I know my eyes was real wide. “But, Mama,” I said. “I don’t want to have to live with Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae. I love them for what they done for me when you was gone. They’s always going to be special to me. But I want to live with you.”

“William and me will work it out, Lydia. We are all family, and we’ll find a way. I have your adoption papers. We know it’s best for you to stay with me, and I think your aunt will come to understand that, too.”

I sure hoped she was right. Iffen we wasn’t going to have no more family secrets, I figured I best tell her my secret. “Mama,” I said without looking up from my sewing, “I went to the cemetery to see where Helen was buried.”

She didn’t say nothing for a minute. “Good, Lydia,” she finally said. “I’m glad you done that. You two are joined by birth. How was it for you?”

“I skipped school to go. I told Mr. Hinkle I was sick. I lied, Mama.”

Mama nodded. She didn’t look mad at all. “After we tell Ethel Mae, you can explain to Mr. Hinkle. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Then I nodded. After all me and Mr. Hinkle been through together, I figured he understood me as good as most anybody. “I took Ears with me,” I told Mama. “It was pretty there. And peaceful. I talked to Helen the best I could. But I called her Helen. You’re my mama.” Mama smiled at me and patted my hand. I wanted to tell her something else. “On her headstone, there was a verse. My spirit frees, and I am one with God. I don’t recollect that from the Bible.”

“It’s from one of her poems. Helen was a wonderful woman, Lydia. You could feel how much she loved people and life in what she wrote. And she had this great laugh—real hearty. Not something you would expect to come out of such a tiny woman. We didn’t get together with William and Helen too much, but her and me was becoming good friends. I miss her.”

“Does Uncle William still have her poems and stories?”

“You’ll have to ask him, Lydia. I don’t know.”

“Do you think she can see me from Heaven, Mama?”

“I think her and BJ and Gran probably talk about how proud they be of you all the time, Lydia. And I’m sure Helen tells them that she believes you was the best thing she ever done with her life.”

We sat quiet for a spell as we rocked and sewed, rocked and sewed. Then I thought of something else I wanted to talk to her about.

“Mama,” I said, “I been thinking some about what Mr. Hinkle told me one time about having a dream for my future. I think me and Anne of Green Gables sure do have us a lot in common.”

“Why is that, Lydia?” Mama asked.

“I want to be a teacher someday, too—a real good one like Anne and Mr. Hinkle and Mrs. Nowling.”

“That sounds like a mighty fine dream, Lydia. Sheila told me her family didn’t have no money to help her, but she worked hard to put herself through college. Iffen she done it, I believe you can, too.”

“I will, Mama. I just know it. You know that letter I got from Janine the other day? She said she wants to be a teacher, too. I finally found me a person friend who’s a kindred spirit like Anne Shirley had. Maybe me and Janine can go to college together. It sure would be fun iffen we could be roommates.”

“Maybe by the time you both are old enough, it will be possible to go to college together. I think things be changing in this country. And some of them changes be real good.”

I thought on that for a while. “Miss Parker said when you win your civil trial that you’ll have more money than you ever had,” I said. “Are we going to be rich?”

Mama winked at me. “We always been rich, Lydia. We just ain’t had much money. I don’t know what to do about that yet. It don’t seem right to sue a children’s hospital. Miss Parker says we need to make sure they stop treating people like they treated us, and sometimes the only way to do that is by a lawsuit. She said maybe we could get a settlement. I don’t know, Lydia. I’ll have to keep studying on it.”

We rocked and sewed, rocked and sewed some more. Then I said, “Mama, there’s something I been pondering about for a long time.”

Mama threaded herself up a needle. “What’s that, Lydia?”

“How come you and Gran and BJ was always so strong going through all that bad stuff, and I was so weak?”

Mama looked up at me, her eyes all wide. She stopped rocking and put her hand on my arm. “Oh, Lydia,” she said. “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes, Mama. I was always a-crying and a-feeling like I was going to fall to pieces.”

Mama smiled and patted my arm. “Here is a Gran test for you, Lydia. What’s the shortest verse in the Bible?”

“ ‘Jesus wept,’ ” I said without even thinking. Then I smiled.

“I done my share of crying and falling to pieces, too, Lydia, especially in that jail, thinking about what you must be going through without me.”

“You did, Mama?”

“Um-hum.” She went back to rocking and sewing. “But I come to think that being strong ain’t about being tough or holding things all bottled up inside when you have real bad times. It’s just about leaning on Jesus and the folks He puts around you and putting one foot in front of the other until you cross over into some better days. You done that just fine, Lydia.”

I studied on them words for a spell. “But, Mama, what about when I was so weak and afeared that I couldn’t speak up for you at that first trial?” Some tears flooded up my eyes.

Mama tied a knot in her row and bit off the thread. “Lydia, I was never so proud of you as I was at that moment.”

“But why, Mama?”

“I figured out you thought it was wrong to swear on the Bible. And I said to myself, Lydia is always going to do what she believes is right, no matter what. And then I didn’t feel so afeared for you anymore. I knowed you would always be a strong voice in this world.”

We listened to the thoughts inside us for a while. Then Mama broke the silence. “It’s a little chilly out here, don’t you think?” she said. She put her needle down and pulled her sweater around her. Then she balled up her right hand in a fist and rested it on the arm of the rocking chair. She rubbed her thumb over her fingers to get them warm.

I laid my hand over hers. “Paper covers rock,” I said.

Mama grinned at me and I grinned back.