If the Creek Don’t Rise

“I was surprised he listened to you.”

Mooney leans in. “Me, too,” he says, and they chuckle too easy for my blood. He adds, “Like I said, that boy better stay under the radar or trouble will rat him out.”

“Well, thanks for standing up for me.”

“Just don’t be alone with him if you can help it. Roy’s a stick of dynamite, and you don’t want to be round when something sets him off.”

I’m about to leave cause I ain’t finding gossip I can use, when Miss Shaw asks, “Any mail?”

Mooney reaches under the counter and hands her a couple of letters and a slick magazine. On top is a small cream-colored envelope with fancy writing. The careless woman leaves her mail on the counter and walks over to the bean bin and asks Mooney the difference between two kinds of beans. He gets off his stool and walks over to her. I scoop up Miss Shaw’s top letter, slip it in my pocket, and walk out the door. I remember to say, “I’m fine now. Gotta go. Bye,” and put the stuff on the counter I don’t need.

My heart thuds like a hammer against my ribs as I hurry cross the clearing, past the church, and outta sight of the store, proud of myself. I can’t believe my luck. I don’t know what’s in the envelope, but I got private words sent to Miss Shaw that I’d never know bout if I won’t brave. Like Brother said, “Know thine enemy,” and that’s what I’m doing.

I hear an odd sound on the walk home and find it’s me humming! I never hum, but today, I hum “Jesus Loves Me” and I think of Nana and wonder if she’s proud of me cause I’m brave.

I pat my pocket to hear the paper crinkle. It’s like a Christmas present. I can’t figure Miss Shaw has friends who’d write her a letter. If she had friends, why’d she run away from the valley and come here where she’s not wanted? How could a body just pick up and go somewhere strange if somebody missed her back there?

All I know is I got a letter today that belongs to Miss Shaw, and she don’t know it. What I’m gonna do is steam it open, and she won’t hardly know I been inside. If I feel nice, I can get the letter back to her when I’m done. Drop it on the floor at the Rusty Nickel for somebody to find.

If I feel nice.

? ? ?

Brother’s home when I come in. I say casual-like, “Saw Miss Shaw today at the Rusty Nickel.” I inch into enemy territory and make it sound like something I say every day.

“You talked to Kate?”

My back is to him so I squeeze my eyes shut, mad at him for playing the fool. I’m the only one who can save him from himself.

“Yep. Saw her at school, too.”

“You went to school?”

“Yep.” Why is Brother surprised? I go places. I talk to people.

“Tell me about it.”

“It won’t special. We talked. She thanked me cause I was nice when she come.”

“Well, that’s good news. You saw her at school. Were students there? Were they happy?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that makes me happy, too. Kate makes wonderful progress with our children. I think we’ve got a teacher who’s gonna stay.”

That’s not the plan, Brother. Miss Shaw’s gotta go.

? ? ?

We eat supper, Brother and me, and he talks to himself cause I’m done for the day. When he lights a lantern and heads out to his workshop, grabbing his oilskin against the rain starting, I take Miss Shaw’s letter outta my pocket and study it. The front’s got spidery writing on it. In care of general delivery. When I turn it over, there’s a tiny heart drawn at the V of the flap, and my stomach turns queasy. Who’d put a heart on a letter to a big, old woman?

I hold the letter with wooden tongs over the steaming kettle on the woodstove till the flap loosens, keeping an ear out for Brother’s footsteps on the porch. I take the opened envelope back to my room and close the door.

What would Miss Kathleen Shaw think if she could look through my window right now and see what I’m doing? Would she be scared? Would she be mad and tap-tap-tap on the glass for me to stop? I look out the darkened window and half expect to see Kathleen Shaw’s wide face pressed to the windowpane, mist clouding her glasses, the rain flattening her chopped hair.

It serves Miss Shaw right that I do this. If I don’t protect what’s mine, who will? When Mama left, I got Brother to look after.

It’s one piece of paper, so I open it slow to make the thrill last. It’s only got a few lines and it starts with:

My dearest K.

Dearest? That word unsettles me. Who in the world calls that cow of a woman dearest? Nobody never said that word to me, and I wouldn’t know what to do if they did.

My dearest K,

I miss your company, your wit, your warmth. You’ve gone off the map to the end of the world to follow your calling, and yet I’m the one who’s lost and left without a rudder. When you come off your high mountain, come stay, rest, and BE with me. You are my better half. Now I limp through my days like a worn-out shoe.

Love forever,





R


Is this what I think it is? My belly starts to rumble, and I feel sick something awful. What a bunch of mush for that old hag! David’s letter was a sad note, a good note. This one’s trash.

I don’t know why I do this, but I count the words. I think of em as nails in Miss Shaw’s coffin. There’s seventy words in her letter, just like the letter to my mama! But this one’s got a funny feel to it, and my bowels turn loose. I dash through the rain to the outhouse, quick, sick. When I get back, I don’t even wanna touch that letter no more. I don’t wanna say out loud what it means. I don’t want something like that to even get in my ears and brain and stick cause I know the R don’t stand for a Robert or a Russell. A man wouldn’t have been prissy with his words. Miss Shaw’s more than a thought. She’s a immoral, wicked sodomite.

And to think she touched my arm and helped me stand up!

I run to the outhouse again.

? ? ?

I’m burdened about what to do with this bothersome news. If Brother won’t smitten, he’d do what’s right for the good folks of Baines Creek and drive out the heathen sinner. When it comes to Miss Shaw, he’s useless and under her devil spell. I was right to take Kathleen Shaw’s damning letter and uncover her real evil. I gotta bide my time to think and do the right thing.

My dearest K…

Sweet Jesus, help me!

Right now I put that nasty letter back in the envelope. I’ve never been this close to something unnatural. That’s Daddy and Brother’s job. I bow my head to pray like they always do, squeeze my hands together till my fingers blanche, think and think, but not a single word comes to mind. I want this abomination gone from my mountain. I want her to suffer for her sins.

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