The Saints of Swallow Hill

“Hey.”

Cornelia had shaved off the rest of her hair after they’d been there for a couple days. There was no more tar left, and the burns on her face were healing. She wore bright kerchiefs around her head, sometimes along with the hat Rae Lynn let her use. Her cheeks were pink from the heat, but her eyes were clear and shiny with happiness. She no longer held herself like she was expecting to be yelled at or hit. She moved about the house and yard relaxed and easygoing. Rae Lynn could see being here was as good for Cornelia as it had been for her, but the simple fact of the matter was, they couldn’t take advantage of this family’s kindness.

Rae Lynn said, “Norma, would you mind checking with your mama to see if she needs anything out of the garden?”

Norma said, “Yes ma’am.”

She took off running toward the house, yelling, “Mama!” while Rae Lynn took over handing out the clothespins. It was the time of year when the buzz of the cicadas began to dwindle, their summertime symphony coming to an end. The surroundings were quieter without the vibrant hum of their song. Cornelia finished hanging the clothes and stood with her arms folded against her waist, face lifted to the sun, the burn scars patches of pink against tanned skin.

Rae Lynn said, “I reckon you ain’t missing Otis none.”

“How awful is it to say not one bit?”

“It ain’t awful. The truth ain’t always easy, is it?”

Cornelia faced her, and her expression changed ever so slightly to reveal a hint of the forbidden peering through.

“No, it ain’t.”

While Rae Lynn loved being around Cornelia, whatever went on in her head in these odd moments unsettled her. She broke off the gaze and plunged into why she’d come out there to begin with.

She said, “You know, we been here for over a week now.”

“Has it been that long?”

“It has. We got to start thinking about what we’re doing, where we’re going.”

Cornelia’s shoulders slumped.

Rae Lynn persisted. “It’s what we told Del.”

“I know.”

“Maybe Sudie May knows somebody needing help. She takes supper to the preacher at First Baptist Church every Wednesday night. Maybe someone at the church needs help. Knows of rooms for let.”

“Yeah.”

Cornelia sounded glum, and Rae Lynn couldn’t blame her. It felt safe here, and the both of them had said off and on to each other it had been a good decision.

Cornelia said, “Do you want to leave?”

Rae Lynn didn’t answer the question directly.

“They’ve been kind to give us what they have, and ain’t said a word about how long we been here, nothing. But we can’t expect them to let us stay on forever.”

Sigh. “No.”

“I’m gonna bring it up, and soon, okay?”

Cornelia exhaled again and said, “Okay.”

Rae Lynn waited a couple of days, a Wednesday, and went to Sudie May and said, “Let me help you with the preacher’s supper. I got something I wanted to talk to you about as well.”

Sudie May said, “Oh, gosh, that would be wonderful, thank you.”

This was part of what Rae Lynn liked about Sudie May. She always showed appreciation, no matter how small the things they did to help out. They headed for the brooder house chatting about the relentless heat. There wasn’t a hint of a breeze, and even the leaves on the trees hung limp and forlorn. The chickens appeared to sense one of them was doomed for the supper table because they didn’t gather at the fence like usual. As soon as Sudie May entered the fenced area, they set off running and clucking. Sudie May eased toward the hens, but they were wily and smart. They dashed one way and the other. She stopped after a few decent attempts, panting. She and the birds eyed one another. Rae Lynn thought she seemed a little peaked.

She said, “You okay?”

Sudie May blocked the glare of the sun with her hand and said, “Feels extra hot today. This humidity is awful.”

Rae Lynn said, “You come on out. Let me do it.”

Sudie May didn’t argue, and stepped out while wiping her neck with a handkerchief and then fanning the air with it right after. Rae Lynn scooted by her and, seconds later, nabbed a hen. She held it cushioned under her arm, and by the time she was out of the gate, she’d wrung its neck. It barely had time to emit a final squawk. Sudie May led the way back to the house, and Rae Lynn followed, the chicken dangling from her fingers. When they came into the yard, she tossed it in the scalding pot Sudie May set to heat earlier. Rae Lynn poked at the fire, watching as she dunked the bird a few times.

When she brought it out of the water the final time, Rae Lynn said, “Here, let me.”

She started plucking rapidly. It was half cleaned in a matter of a minute.

Sudie May put her hand up to her head and said, “Law, I sure am grateful for all the help y’all give me here.”

It was the perfect opening.

“We want to thank you for letting us stay as long as you have, but it’s time we moved on.”

Her eyes wide, Sudie May said, “What on earth for?”

Rae Lynn worked fast, yanking on the feathers, grateful for something to focus on so she only had to glance at her now and again.

She said, “We told Del it was only ’til we found work and somewhere to stay.”

Sudie May said, “But”—and she swept her arm around—“you did.”

Rae Lynn said, “Well, I know, but this isn’t what we meant. It ain’t right to overstay our welcome.”

“You ain’t overstayed nothing.”

Rae Lynn said, “We don’t want to take—”

Sudie May suddenly waved her hand. “Del!”

He was with Amos over by the barn, and if Rae Lynn had noticed this, she’d have waited. It was already difficult to do.

He walked over and had no more than acknowledged Rae Lynn with a little wave when Sudie May pointed at her and said, “They’re wanting to leave.”

Rae Lynn lifted a hand coated with feathers and said, “That ain’t exactly right . . . it’s not that we—”

Del cut her off as if she hadn’t said a word. He looked confounded and said, “Want to leave?”

Rae Lynn was furiously plucking feathers and paused long enough to reply.

“I didn’t say that. We said we’d only . . .”

Del turned to Sudie May and said, “You ain’t told her yet.”

“Not yet, but I guess I ought to right now.”

Rae Lynn stopped yanking feathers and looked from one to the other.

“Ain’t told me what?”

Sudie May said, “Norma and Joey are going to be a big sister and brother, probably in early spring. I guess I thought I was done with babies with Joey being five, but here I am. Pregnant.”

Rae Lynn said, “Oh.”

Sudie May took hold of her hand, and a few feathers drifted to the ground.

She said, “Joey’s was a hard birth. It’ll do me good not to have so much on me around here. I need to rest as much as I can. I can’t if y’all ain’t here to help. At least till after the baby comes. Please?”

Del and Sudie May waited, both eyeing her expectantly. Sudie May looked like she might cry, depending on the answer. Del was motionless, watchful. He didn’t even blink. Rae Lynn finished plucking the feathers and dunked the bird again. They’d already been here well beyond what was proper. It didn’t seem right, showing up out of the blue and staying on and on. No one had pried her with questions, but she felt her lack of background only complicated matters. Sudie May dropped her chin to her chest. Rae Lynn thought she saw a tear fall, while Del’s extraordinary blue eyes remained on her in a way that made her squirm. It was as if he wanted her to stay as bad as his sister. Maybe more.

She lifted the plucked chicken from the pot and said, “Well. All right. Until then.”

Sudie May pressed her hands together over her chest, and Rae Lynn saw she had been crying.

“Oh, thank you, thank you.”

“It ain’t nothing. We should be thanking y’all.”

Del did something surprising to Rae Lynn. He reached out, rested his hand on her shoulder, and gave it a light squeeze.

He said, “I’m grateful to you.”

He dropped his hand and walked away while Rae Lynn stared after him.

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