Ian felt like his body had just hit the ground. He counted to three, took a breath and then auto piloted into worker mode. Within the hour a small graveside funeral was arranged. He wanted flowers, lots of flowers. Aunt Hil had loved them so, but Colton reminded him that calling every flower shop in six counties in Virginia and Tennessee would attract attention and turn a respectful tribute into a circus.
Ian remembered how one year he had mowed yards and saved enough money to buy a simple yellow tea rose bush he gave to his Aunt Hil on her birthday. She planted it in front of the Spring House in her back yard, where the full Virginia sun would nurture it and she could see it’s blooms first thing every morning from her kitchen window.
Kyle Osborne had agreed to transplant it at the foot of her grave in September, the first month with an “R” in it after summer, just as Aunt Hil had taught him—the “R”s in September, October, November and December stood for “reborn”. Then Ian could give his Aunt Hil the little yellow roses she adored every day for the rest of his life.
He had arranged a simple tombstone as well. It would be just what she wanted, stating her name and life span, nothing fancy, just dignified and strong like her. He had them add a small epitaph at the bottom: “The strongest woman God ever created, so strong she gave hope to those who needed to learn the meaning of the word.”
Ian didn’t cry. He wanted to so badly, but he couldn’t connect. He just felt empty. Oh his life was so full, and he finally had that family of heart he had heard talked about. The Shores, and his family at work; they made him laugh and helped to him feel purpose.
They even loved him. Although he didn’t feel worthy of that feeling and wasn’t sure he even knew what it was to give it back. He did the best he could and they gave him a connection to the future, but it was his past that still dangled there blowing freely in an uncreated world.
Everyone he knew all had pasts, pasts that they happily retold. They were all tales that gave their faces a special sentimental glow. Ian past had been shoved into the recesses of his mind with nightmares of the boogey man, never forgotten nights hiding in fear, and echoes of pain that just bounced around in an empty soul.
With Aunt Hil gone, even his past didn’t even exist any more. What little there was worth remembering was gone. The question that haunted him the most was how could he move forward when there was nothing behind him to more forward from.
It haunted him in his sleep. He heard it calling him. “Ian…Ian…” and then it touched his shoulder. Ian felt the nightmare touch his shoulder and jostle him. He sat straight up and screamed.
“Ian…Ian….its okay…it’s just me….Reese!” Ian opened his eyes and realized that Reese was holding him by the shoulders and Ian was screaming at the top of his lungs in terror. “You okay, buddy?” Reese was definitely concerned.
Ian took a deep breath and pulled himself together. “Yeah…yeah…you just woke me in the middle of a nightmare.”
“Must have been pretty awful…”
“It was…”
“You need help getting out of here?”
Ian just looked at him not sure what he was saying, still a little groggy from the sleeping pills that Tippy insisted he take before he stepped into Reese’s little plane.
“We’ve landed for the night. It’s almost dark, we’ve got time to rest and then about another three hours in the morning whenever you’re ready.” Reese explained.
“Oh, yeah…sure.” Ian looked around him, just to get his bearings. “Why don’t you go ahead and get refueled, whatever you need done and I’ll get my act together.”
“Already got that done, just need you…even managed to rent a car to get us around tonight.”
Reese helped Ian to stand and gather a small bag he would take with him. The rest would be safe in the plane, locked up in the hanger over night. Ian, not used to taking Ambien, was way too groggy drive, so Reese would be driver of the car for the trip as well. They drove about twenty minutes and checked in to a small hotel. Bags were taken up and then immediately back out to the car to find a nice place to relax and eat.
They had a nice meal at a little Mom and Pop diner somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Ian had no idea where they were and didn’t ask. He really just wanted to be alone. He was not used to sharing his misery.
Tippy had wanted the entire Shores clan to go with him. She insisted that his new family needed to pay respect to the old. After a few minutes of loving argument, Ian compromised and allowed Reese to clear his bookings and fly him to Lost Mountain and back.
“You okay, Ian?” Reese asked looking up from his pie.
“Fine, just still groggy from whatever it was your mother shoved down my throat.”
Reese studied Ian. “You’re not a very good liar.”
Ian looked at his friend and tried to reassure him. “I’m doing the best that I can, Reese, really.”
“I know you are.” Reese put down his fork and shoved the almost eaten pie to the side. “Can you handle this?”
“Don’t have much of a choice do I?”
“Do you want to talk about it? It may help.”
Ian smiled. “Thanks, but I’m fine. It’s not like I haven’t been through a death before. Every time I turn around, some one dies. You’d think that all of this would be second nature by now, but it isn’t. Aunt Hil…she was one of the few constants.”
Reese drained the last of his soft drink. “Ian, that’s not what I’m talking about. Are you going to be able to handle…you know, the other thing?”
“What other thing?” Ian looked up at Reese from the bits of crust he was pushing around his own plate with a fork.
Reese reached across the table and pushed the plate away from him. “I figured it out, or at least I’ve got a really good idea. I notice things, remember?”
Ian looked at the table, no longer able to look him in the eye. “How did you…?”
“I just put two and two together…the letter, the way it was worded. They way you trembled…just a little, and then it started to make sense to me. I never understood why you always had that look in your eyes.”
“Look?”
“Of hurt, fear, shame, it had to be more than just being a poor orphan. Hell, Mom and Dad were both raised dirt poor but they never have that look of knowing what it’s like to have your heart ripped out and the fear that it’s going to happen again.”
Reese touched Ian’s hand. Ian moved his hands from the tabletop and put them in his lap. Reese pulled his hand back over to his side. “I would, but they wouldn’t.” He said.
Ian nodded. “Sorry. It comes and goes. I guess I’ll always wonder.”
“You made the right decision, Ian. It was good, for everyone one.”
“Things are different now. It just makes me wonder what it would be like, if…”
“Ian, if you’d made a different decision maybe things wouldn’t be the way they are now.”
Ian nodded again. “I can do this. It’ll be fine, and maybe in some small way it will help me to put it all back in the little box it came from and bury it for good.”
Reese nodded his head. “Yeah. Ready to go?”
They talked little the rest of the night. Ian read some, and Reese watched TV. They did both manage to get a few hours of sleep, but as soon as the sun came up, they packed what little they checked in with and headed back to Reese’s plane.
The flight was smooth and a little less than three hours. The airstrip was small and it had been no small feat finding a car rental place that would have something suitable waiting for them when they landed. Reese complained a little, but Ian mused that it was just as good as the car he drove in college.
It was a thirty-five minute drive to the motel from the little private airport in Abingdon. Reese was amazed at how beautiful it was. Ian had forgotten himself, and pointed out various little places along the way that may have some interest.
Ian couldn’t wait to get to the old farm. The irony wasn’t wasted on him. It was like once he arrived he’d know how badly it hurt when the band-aid got ripped off. Until then, the echoes just bounced around inside him from place to place.
The creek beside the road reminded him of the time his Uncle caught him fishing so they’d have something to eat and then beat him until he could barely fry the fish he’d caught for dinner. The old school house, now a community center, brought back memories of being beaten up by a kid one morning for his lunch, and then beat up by the same kid that afternoon because all he had were butter sandwiches. The old abandoned Five & Ten store, reminded Ian of the woman who owned it who told him that it wasn’t his fault his mama was a crazy whore who got herself killed.
As they drove up the old mountain road to the farm Ian was raised on, he felt nothing, no twangs of anxiety, no pride in returning something better than he left, and no aching sadness for those he left behind. He felt just like the air that day, so forgettable it couldn’t be forgotten.
It was finally April. The mountains didn’t seem green or ready to burst into spring. The Earth was trying hard, but it hadn’t managed to get much beyond the dirty brown of winter. Even Aunt Hil’s little yellow and grayish clapboard house seemed crispy and cold as they passed it to the dirt road that would led back to the new house the Osborne’s had built on the nightmare Ian had come from.
By the time their rental had come to a stop, all three of the Osborne’s were standing in the front yard waiting on them. Ian introduced them to Reese, and Janie even hugged Ian told him how sorry she was. Little Ronnie could hardly contain his excitement. Ian fought hard recalling how tiny he was the last time he saw him.
Reese got the biggest kick of all out of the boy. When he asked him how old he was Ronnie smiled and said “Ten”, which, of course, he managed to get a minimum of two thick syllables out of.
“Now I’ve just made us some cornbread and soup beans. After the service we’ll all come back for a proper wake.” Janie said urging them to follow her into the house.
“Thank you, Mrs. Osbourne…” Reese said.
“Aw, call me Janie…” she said letting the screen door slap closed behind her as she entered the house.
Kyle held the screen open. “Ronnie, you show these men where to wash up and hang those suit bags in your closet for me.”
“Okay, Daddy.” The boy took the bags, both taller than he and struggled to get them inside.
“Here, buddy, I’ll help you, just show me where to hang them”.” Reese said helping the boy with his load.
“Okay, follow me to my room…” Reese and Ronnie disappeared inside.
“I’m sorry, but it will probably be just us and maybe Janie’s Dad at the service.” Kyle hung his head. “I doubt it Billy will make it. He called this mornin’ and said Vonnie was sick.”
“Kyle, I’m just glad you called me.” Ian put his hand on his shoulder. “This is the last place I want to be, but I don’t know that I could have lived with myself if I hadn’t come. She was the closest thing to a mother I had.”
“That’s what Janie said. I told her not to bother you at first, but I know how I would have felt, so I let her call.”
“I’m glad you did.” Ian looked around. “The place looks real nice Kyle, a real home. You’ve done well.”
“I try. Got to do right by my wife and the boy. I’m sure after we eat Ronnie will want to show you all around. You just tell him no if you don’t want to, you don’t have to give in to his every whim. It’s a rough time for you and you’ve had a long trip.”
Ian nodded his head in silent thanks as Kyle opened the screen for Ian. Once inside, Ian was overwhelmed by the smell of fresh cornbread and the salty brine of soup beans Janie was ladling into bowls around a nice little table. The house wasn’t fancy, but homey and warm, almost a shock to Ian as the drafty shack that had stood on this ground before had none of those attributes.
The five gathered around the table. Kyle lead blessing and four began to dig in. Reese turned to Ronnie. “Can you help a friend out?”
“Sure, Mr. Reese…” the boy perked up.
“I’ve never had this before. Is there a special way I’m supposed to eat it?”
“You never had soup beans and cornbread afore?” He was wide eyed.
“Not once. I’m not as privileged as you…”
“Well okay…you like onion?” He asked.
“Yes, I do.” Reese said.
Ronnie picked up the little portion of Vidalia on his plate and a knife. “Well, then you take yer onion and ya cut up up real good. Now you kin drop it in yer mug and crumble yer cornbread onit and then pour yer milk in, but I like mine right in ma soup beans.” He sliced his onion up and dropped it in the bowl.
Reese smiled. “I’ll try mine that way…” He mocked the boy’s movements. “I’ll just follow you.” And he crumbled his wedge of cornbread in his bowl just like the boy and tried a spoonful. “Mmmmm…that’s good.”
“I thought you’d like it.” Ronnie smiled. “What do you eat in California? Lotsa octopus and mary wanna?”
Ian and Reese almost choked they laughed so hard. “No, Ronnie, we’ve just forgotten how fine the simple things are.” Reese said.
Ian turned up his nose. “It’s hard to just get food sometimes, Ronnie. They fancy it all up, and sometimes I just want to scream oh just throw it in a pan with some butter and put it on my plate.”
They enjoyed the rest of the meal, including a fresh apple pie that Janie had cooling on the window sill just as Ian remembered Aunt Hil doing many times. It was hot and tart and topped with homemade vanilla ice cream Kyle had churned that morning. Reese kept telling them how he had never eaten so well.
When they were all satiated Ian asked Ronnie if he would show him the property and he squirmed until his Daddy told him it was okay. As Ian and Reese were led out the back door by a bouncing Ronnie, Janie reminded him that they had to start getting ready in an hour and to not talk the visitors ears off.
As the back door screen slammed behind them, Ian stepped into a world that wasn’t quite as he’d remembered it. When he left, the old spring house and barn were barely standing and the land behind barely kept. What lay before him now, were a fully restored barn and spring house, a cleared backyard with trimmed hedges and a freshly planted garden.
Ronnie grabbed Ian’s hand. “Com’on. Mr. Ian. Let me show you my museum!” He almost yanked Ian’s arm out of its socket racing down the path were the chicken coop used to be. When they stepped over the little bridge that had replaced the plank his Uncle had slammed down over the branch, Ian spotted the old chicken coop there on the little knoll. It was still a little ragged, but the boy had obviously painted it in blue and gray.
Ronnie stood in front of it and proudly held out his hands. “I painted it myself…in your favorite colors.”
“My favorite colors?” Ian had no idea what he was talking about, and neither did Ronnie as Ian’s favorite colors were black and red.
“Well, they aren’t the same exact colors in yer picture, but it was the closest I could find.” He said.
“My picture?” Ian asked.
“Uh huh, from that paintin you did that me and Daddy found in the barn.”
“Ronnie, I must have forgotten about that.” Ian said looking at Reese, who was just as confused as he was.
“I’ll show you…” Ronnie reached in his pocket and took a little key ring and stuck into the pad lock on the door. “Stuff in here is precious and gonna be worth a lotta money someday, so I keep it safe.”
“Good for you, boy…” Reese patted his head and tried not to laugh.
Ronnie swung the old door open, barely on its hinges and pulled the string flashing of an old overhead light. The place had been swept out and cleaned up, the old chicken nooks now filled and neatly organized with things that the boy had collected.
Ronnie went to the back wall and turned on another light. “See?” He pointed to a painting hanging on there.
Ian’s mouth dropped. He did recognize it, but it wasn’t something he had painted. “How the heck…” He said being careful to watch his language. He and Reese stepped closer and gazed at it.
“You painted this?” Reese asked staring in wonder as the swirls of different shades of blue and white and silver. “It looks just like…”
Ian nodded his head. “Ronnie, where did you say you found this?”
“In the barn, back in the old tack room, wrapped in a quilt and stuck in a nook. We almost didn’t see it. I showed it to Miz Hil, she said you musta painted it. You was always doing the most surprising things.”
Ian took it down from its little nail on the wall and held it so the boy could look. “Buddy, see this writing write here?” Ian pointed to the signature.
“Uh huh…it’s says ‘he”…”
“I think that stands for Herman Elysian. When someone does a painting they always sign it.” Ian put his hand on the back of Ronnie’s head. “I hate to disappoint you, but I didn’t do this.”
“Then blue and gray ain’t yer favorite colors?”
“Yes. Yes they are…” Ian lied. “I don’t know how this got here, but it was painted by a man who used to live in my house in California, and in my living room is a painting that this is a lot like. He called it “Untitled Masterpiece”. I don’t know why. It’s beautiful though, and this painting is just as beautiful. I think it’s my favorite of the two.”
Ronnie sighed. “So much for my pizza resistance…”
Ian and Reese controlled giggles. “I tell you what, I make you a trade.”
“Fer what?” He asked immediately becoming a businessman. “It’s pretty spensive bein from a famous paintin’ maker an’ all.”
“Well, I brought some things from L.A. How ‘bout we trade this painting for all of them?”
Ronnie little face beamed. “Deal!”
“Go run to the back seat of the car and get that big box for me and bring it to the back porch.” Reese tossed him the keys and the boy went slamming off to the front of the house.
They walked to the porch and stared at the painting together. “So where did this come from?” Reese asked.
“I haven’t the slightest idea, but it’s a match to the one in my living room. I thought maybe it might be a series because of the title, but it’s odd that one of them turned up in my old barn.”
“You probably just bought it and forgot about it.”
“Reese, I could never afford anything like this…and no one I know could have afforded it either, let alone appreciate it. If it wasn’t Elvis or Jesus on black velvet, it wasn’t worth the effort to dust Aunt Hil always said.”
Janie and Kyle had come to the back porch as Ronnie Kyle waddled around the corner of the house screaming “Come Quick!”
“What’s all the fuss about?” Janie asked as she dried her hands on her apron.
“Mama, Mr. Ian brought me some stuff for my museum…” He placed the box, almost as long as he was tall, on the stoop and tried to open it. Reese bent down and slit open the tape and the boy tore into the box.
Ian helped him lifted the first piece out and explained as he stripped away the tissue paper. “These are what we call promo mock ups. I have one for every new TV show that the network is going to air this fall. Well…not all of them, just the one’s that I’m developing.”
“What’s a mock up?” He asked.
“It’s a blow up of the advertisements we are going to run in newspapers and magazines to tell people about the shows. They are very important because with one look we have to try and tell you all about the show and make you want to watch it.”
“And these are for me?”
“All for you, but you have to promise me that you won’t sell these to the newspaper or anything. You are the first person outside my office to see these.”
“Wow!” Ronnie pulled out each mock up and Ian explained it, how it the idea was formed and what they had decided to do. Ronnie even had a few suggestions.
“I don’t like this color.” He said. “This makes me think the show will be scary and I don’t like scary…”
“Hmmm…” Ian said. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you are right. See? I’m glad I gave these to you. You found a mistake. I’ll have to change this before my meeting next week. You’ll be a great television executive one day…”
Ronnie looked up at Ian and beamed with pride. His eyes got big. “You wanna see my kittens?” Before Ian could say no, Ronnie grabbed his hand and started dragging him toward the barn.
“Ronnie, we should start getting ready soon.” Janie said starting to put everything back in the box.
“This’ll just take a minute, Mama.” With that Ronnie and the two visitors were out of her sight.
Like it or not Ian quickly found himself in the old barn. The moment the door opened the smell wafted him back in time. Kyle had repaired and replaced much of the wood, but in Ian’s mind it was still the same place.
“Over here.” He heard Ronnie say.
Ian’s eyes scanned the walls, the smell of hay forcing his mind to scan the memories. His eyes shot to the left, the door was still there to the tack room. His head lifted to see the upper loft.
He wondered if the old corn chute was still buried in the bales there. It was his hiding place as a child, just big enough to squeeze down in and not be found. Ian had spent too many nights there, trembling in fear waiting for his Uncle Nate to either calm down or pass out.
“How many are there?” He heard Reese ask the boy.
“Just three now.” Ian finally focused on the child and his friend crouched down in the corner. “They was five, but one died and we give one away.”
When the kittens heard the boy’s voice, they started popping out of a little hole the mother had made between bales. Very quickly Reese and Ronnie found themselves covered in the furry little critters.
“They old enough to give away now, and Daddy says we gots to find ‘em all homes.” The boy cuddled a smoky colored one with long hair in his arms. “This ‘ens my favorite.”
“What’s its name?” Reese asked as he scratched the ears of a yellow tabby, who in turn rolled his head to feel the scratching deeper and began to purr.
“I ain’t named him. I got to give him away, so tain’t fair to name him.” Ronnie looked up at Ian. He held the kitten out to him. “You wanna hold one, Mr, Ian?”
Ian smiled. “Uh, no thanks. I’ll just stand here and watch.”
Reese looked at Ronnie. “I think he’s afraid of cats.”
“That’s silly.” The boy said. “Are you afraid a kittens, Mr. Ian?”
“Of course not. I just never really cared for them much.”
“Aw, they ain’t gonna hurt’cha.” Ronnie reached for another flipped it over on its belly and rubbed. The little cat just rolled and purred loudly. “See? They’s as sweet as they can be.”
“I’m sure they are.” Ian said. “I just…they’re vermin with attitude. I just don’t care for them, but they’re very pretty.”
Ronnie shook his head and turned to Reese, who was enjoying playing with a little white furball splashed with black and yellow. “That’n likes you Mr. Reese. You wan’ it? I’ll give it to ya.”
“Well, thank you Ronnie, but I’d better not.” He pointed at Ian, who was taking a step backward when the little smoky kitten bounced a step towards him.
“You just stay over there you little rodent. Nobody wants you over here.” Ian said to the kitten.
Reese leaned over to Ronnie and whispered. “It’s just me and Mr. Ian in my little plane. I think putting a cat in there with him might make him jump out the window.”
Ronnie giggled. “Well, we better go get cleaned up.” He stood, picked up the kittens one by one and dropped them all in the little hay hole. Ian watched him kiss each one and say goodbye.
“They’re beautiful Ronnie.” Ian told him. “Thank you for showing them to us.”
“Yeah, maybe next time, you’ll even touch one.” Reese teased.
“That’s not gonna happen.” Ian muttered. “Those things are nasty.”
“Well, com’mon then.” Ronnie headed toward the barn door, Reese helping him heft the sturdy wood. Ian held the door open as the two stepped through. Ian took just a second to look back.
For a moment he went back in time again. He had begun to tremble when he heard Ronnie’s voice. “Mr. Ian? You comin’?”
“Yeah.” He called back. Ian took one last look, sweeping his eyes over the walls and the hay. He nodded his head. “Just an old barn.” He said out loud.
The smoky cat poked his head out of the hole and looked at Ian. Ian stared at it a moment. The thing popped out and headed toward him. Ian slipped out the door and stuck his head back. The little cat was quickly making his way toward him.
Ian looked at the cat. “Don’t even think about it.” And quickly shut the door.
Everyone was on the porch when Ian got there. Janie looked at him and smiled. “Ever thing alright?”
“Fine.” Ian said. “Thank you. You’ve done amazing things here, but memories still come back.”
Janie nodded her head and looked at the floor of her porch. “I know. It must be hard for you.”
“It’s fine, Janie, just fine.” Ian tried to assure her. “You’ve made a beautiful family here. It’s exactly what this place needed. Knowing the love and laughter here, it helps to wipe away…” Ian shook his head. “You understand.”
She nodded her head. “You boys can change in Ronnie’s room. Ronnie you go put yer presents away and then change clothes.”
“Okay, Mama…” he grabbed up his box and ran toward the chicken coop…er...museum, but stopped and turned to Ian. “Oh thank you so much Mr. Ian…thank you thank you thank you.”
“You’re welcome…and thank you!” And the boy was off. Ian held up the painting so Janie and Kyle could see it. “Do either of you by any chance know how this ended up here?”
“The boy and me found it in the barn, in the old tack room all wrapped up and behind some old sheet rock.” Kyle said. “Why, isn’t it yours?”
“No…but I have a match to it in my home in L.A. That’s what puzzles me. Is it possible that it belongs to Jude?” He asked Janie.
“My Daddy? I doubt it…I know he lived in that room for a while, but…well you can ask him if he comes to the service…” She was just as puzzled now as Ian was.
“I’m sure he’ll be there…he and Miz Hilary were close, almost like two peas in a pod…”
Kyle added.
Reese put the painting in the back seat of the car and they slipped on their suits for the service. Kyle was right. The only people who were there were the Osbournes, Reese and Ian, and of course Preacher Snowdon from the Baptist Church at the foot of the mountain.
They stood around an already covered grave as the Preacher said words that were quickly eaten by the wind. He was well into something Ian wasn’t able to concentrate on when he heard the crunch crunch of footsteps behind him. He turned to see a graying Jude standing behind him, head bowed reverently as the service continued.
The preacher finally folded his Bible and shook Ian’s hand and told him he would pray for him. Ian smiled and handed him a small white envelope that probably contained more hundred dollar bills than had ever been in the man’s collection plate.
“Aunt Hil always said the church needed a baptistery. She said that more people would come to Jesus if they didn’t have to be dipped in the cold creek out back of the church. This should do it. Thank you sir.”
“Bless you child…” the old black man said and looked in the envelope. “Praise be to you son…praise be to you.”
The five, now six, just stood there a moment. Ian wished he could cry or say something. He felt Jude’s hand on his shoulder and a rare sweet memory came flooding back. It was the first hymn that Ian had ever played for Aunt Hil, for anyone. It was a song that he had heard her sing time and time again.
Ian took a step forward and began to sing with the old woman in his head, “Wherever he leads I’ll go….wherever he leads I’ll go….I’ll follow my Christ who loves me so…wherever he leads I’ll go….”
He felt little Ronnie take his hand and start singing with him. By the time they got to the chorus again everyone was singing, even Jude. Ian ache became a pounding, but tears still refused to come. It was a though his heart had already been broken in so many pieces it just didn’t work any more or maybe, he thought, never worked at all to begin with.
When the song was done, Ian squatted down and placed a bouquet of simple yellow roses on the mound of dirt. He kissed his fingers and lay them there on the grave. He couldn’t say anything. He just couldn’t figure out how to thank the one of the only two people in the world who made a scared little boy want to even try to grow into a man. All he could do was just stare into the little marks his fingers had made in the dry earth.
“Daddy, are you gonna join us fer supper?” Ian heard Janie quietly ask.
“Sure, honey, but Ian and I need ta talk first.” He heard Jude say.
Ian heard a rustle of hands shaking. Reese introduced himself and offered to let him ride back with he and Ian.
“That’s awful kind of you, I appreciate it.” Jude said. He turned to his daughter. “Honey, why don’t you all go on, and we’ll be there directly.” He heard him kiss her on the cheek and the little family walk to the car.
“Ian said he wanted to go right over to Miss Hilary’s house and look ‘round. I’ll meet ya’ll there.” He heard her say.
“That’s fine.” Jude told her.
“Law, it’s so dry the grass is like ice…” He heard Janie complain. “We need some rain so bad…” and then the car do shut.
Jude got down and put his arm around Ian’s shoulder. “You know boy, sometimes being a man is knowing you are strong enough to be weak.” He jostled him. “She loved you more’n anything, boy. She was so proud of ya, so proud she just couldn’t say the words…”
“I loved her, too…” and finally a painful little tear rolled down Ian’s cheek. “I don’t how I’d a lived, Jude…so many times…without her…” and the tears softly flowed like the much needed rain. Ian turned to look at Jude. “And you…”
Ian’s throat hurt with each sob but his heart started to beat. It was as if the pain released allowed him to finally breath. He and Jude struggled hard to let it go, there were so many hard times and too little good to remember. Aunt Hil had always said that someday the peace would come; maybe that was her final gift to Ian.
Jude wiped his face with his hand. “Let’s go sit over here and talk.” He helped Ian up and the walked arm in arm to a nearby oak, twisted and towering and still naked in the dry spring.
Jude sat beside Ian on the grass and leaned against the trunk of the old Oak. “I don’t know all the answers boy, don’t know that Miz Hil knowed em all either. Most she took with her, but I’ll tell you everything I can…” Jude said as if he was ashamed.
Ian nodded his head. He thought he knew the answer to his first question, but had to ask himself. “Are you my Daddy?”
Jude sobbed. “Oh how I wish I was, boy. How I wish I was…” He controlled himself. “Miz Hil begged me to take ya when I got home, but I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you Jude? Didn’t you love me?” Ian asked, not accusingly, but as a small child wanting to know why he was being left behind.
“Loved you with all my heart…that’s why I didn’t take you. Maybe I could have made things a little easier fer ya, but I knew Ian…I knew…”
“Knew what?”
“That there was more for you than this…” he put his hands out to the dry grass and the root of the dying old tree. “It was fine for my girls and me, but if I took ya in, that’s all ya ever would have had.”
Ian was afraid of the next question; it was the answer to it that ha had always feared. “Was Uncle Nate my Daddy?”
“No.” Was the quick definite answer.
Ian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Boy he weren’t no relation at’all.” Jude looked at Ian. “You really don’t know nothing?”
“Only what I overheard, talk in town...things I picked up from my hidey holes.”
“I knowed you was watchin. I knowed you was in the barn, hidin, I just didn’t know where and I couldn’t figure for the life of me how you was getting in and out. I figured you was safe though, and if you wanted to talk about it you would…”
“I still don’t understand…why Jude, why did Uncle Nate hate me so?
Jude shook his head. “Lord knows, child, Lord knows. He wasn’t allus a drunk, but by the time I got back, he was a eat up, just pure eat up.”
“With what?”
“Guilt I think. I jus’ remember bits an’ pieces of that night, Ian. The night…” Jude looked down at the root of the old tree. “The night yer mama died. Ian, it took me a while, but I’m purdy sure that Nate was the one drivin’ that truck. I know he was there, he swore he wasn’t an’ I couldn’t prove it.”
“Well, a couple things make more sense now.”
“How’s that?”
“Why Uncle Nate hated me so. My being around probably reminded him.”
“Son, there was so many reasons why Nate acted the way he did, but he weren’t your Daddy. I know that fer fact.”
“Do you know who my father was?”
“No son, I don’t. All I know is your mama run off one time. Miss Leatha, that was who ya called yer Grandmaw, finally tracked her down and drug her back a kickin’ and a screamin’. Weren’t long after we realized she was pregnant. Some man she met while she was gone. That’s all I know. Lylah never said nothing about that time. Not t’me anyway.
“Lylah? That’s my mama’s name? Lylah?”
“You don’t know?”
“Who was around that was gonna tell me, Jude? Uncle Nate? When he wasn’t drunk he only spoke of the little black haired whore.”
“She weren’t no whore. She never touched no man but whoever was yer Daddy. She was what they call high strung, but she believed in love. Lylah was a dreamer jus’ like you. Only dif’ernce is you’re a makin’ yer dreams come true. Layla, she never had a chance.”
“Do you have any idea where she went when she ran away?”
Jude shook his head. “I do know when you was born, they tried to find your Daddy. Miz Hillary and Nate both, but all they had was a name on your birth certificate and the name of a town on a bus ticket.”
“Jude,” Ian looked at the ground and then back up into the other man’s eyes. “There are lots of things that never added up, things that I only heard whisps of, so forgive me if this sounds accusatory but, what did you and Aunt Hil do to my birth certificate?”
Jude looked at Ian and smiled. “You knowed about that?”
“I overheard you and Aunt Hil talking.”
He looked off into nowhere. “Some man come around when you was about Ronnie’s age, said he was from social services. Thought at first Nate had called, he was allus tryin to send you off somewhere, afraid you’d find out that his Mama had left ever thing to you and not him. But your Aunt Hil knowed he wasn’t from the gover’ment. He had a lawyer wif ‘im. They demanded to see a birth certificate.”
“What you do then?”
“Showed ‘em Bethany Jane’s”
“Bethany Jane?”
“A little girl a’ Mizz Leatha’s that died about the time yer mama showed up. Said it was yer mama’s. Man and his lawyer got mad and never saw ‘em again.”
“What if he was my daddy, Jude?”
“At most he was yer granddaddy, a strange little fat man. When he told yer Aunt Hil his name, she turned whiter than me.”
“What was his name?”
“I’m sorry, that I don’t recall. I only saw ‘em oncet. I was in the backfield and saw ‘em talking. Didn’t hear what they was sayin, but saw enough to turn off the tractor and get a rifle to run ‘em off. Yer Aunt Hil was scared. That’s all I can tell ya.”
“Any idea where my mama’s birth certificate is Jude?”
“No. I figure they’s somewhere in Miz Hilary’s, and yer real one’s prob’ly there, too. We’ll find ‘em if they there.”
Ian looked at Jude. “But why did you change the names on my birth certificate?”
Jude noddedd. “Mizz Hil was scared, begged me to help.”
“What was she afraid of, Jude?”
He turned back and looked at the fresh grave. “Son, all I know was I had sumpin’ ta do with yer mama. Miz Hil never ast me for anythin’, I just jumped right in and helped. That’s what family’s are for, Ian, and she was family in some sorta trouble. So we made a new certificate for ya without the father’s name.”
“My father’s name? You knew my father’s name?” Ian balled up his fists.
“Don’t get riled, son.” Jude continued with regret. “There was a big ol’ brawl over yer name when you wuz borned. I don’t know what it was about, I just remember hearin Miz Leatha and Lylah scream at each other from the other side of the mountain.”
“They argued about my name?”
“Ya know you was born in Miz Hilary’s house, don’tcha, not a hospital? Miz Hil was a whatcha call it for all us poor folk, said it was a trade passed down in her family.”
“A wet nurse?” Ian was surprised.
“Yeah, I thinks that’s it. If you wuz colored or poor, Miz Hil was the one you sent word to when it was yer time. She tuck care of ever thing, right down to takin’ the birth certificate down to city hall to register it. That’s why it was easy to make a fake’n fer you.”
“I don’t remember Aunt Hil ever doing any thing like that.”
“Well, things changed and they made Miz Hil stop unless she got some sorta trainin’ or somethin’. You was prob’ly one a’ the last babies on the mountain she helped birth.”
Ian wanted to get back to the subject. “My father’s name?”
“I don’t know. Miz Hil did. I just give her the iddy and took it an’ soaked it in some tea ta make it look old.” Jude looked up at Ian. “I’m sorry, boy. It seemed right at the time, her bein’ sa scared an’ all.”
Ian nodded his head. “This man that came, he was looking for my mother and not me.”
“Miz Hil said that she made a promise she’d keep your mama safe, that no one could ever know where she came from. I reckon she thought whatever might happen to Lylah would happen to you, too.”
“But why?”
“Ian, you’ll have to ask her.” He pointed toward the dirt mound in front of him. “All I know is that Miz Hil brought her here, or someone brought her to Miz Hil. It was the late fifties and they wasn’t about to let a black woman raise a white child, let alone a little girl. Leatha Ransom had just lost her husband and a baby all in one year. All she had was little Nate and this ol’ farm. She took her in. Raised her as her own.”
“And Aunt Hil?”
“She was from out West I believe, married a man who used to work on the farm when it was doin’ good. When he died, she stayed here, cleaned people’s houses or whatever she could ta make ends meet. Miss Leatha, left her the house and the lil piece a land it was on when she died. That didn’t make yer Uncle Nate happy, neither.”
Ian looked at the dry grass at his feet. “I guess we should head back. I wish I had more answers, but if that’s all there is I’ll do my best to move on.”
“We done ya wrong boy…I’ll do ever thing I can to help. Yer Aunt Hil, ya know she left what little there is to ya. We’ll go through ever nook and cranny and I’ll find anything I can. I know’d there has to be something there that will help you figure it all out.”
“I appreciate it, Jude. Maybe it’s not important. I just wanted to know who my father was, if anyone did.”
They got in the car and Reese started the engine. “And you have no idea where my mama ran off to?”
Jude shook his head and scratched his chin. “No, she told Nate she was gonna go to Hollywood and be a star. I think he said she was gonna get what was hers. He allus thought she was uppity, and he was tickled pink when Miz Leatha drug her back kickin and screamin and then turned out to be knocked up…”
“Hollywood?” Reese turned to Ian. “Maybe she brought back the painting?”
Ian turned to Jude. “Do you recognize that painting in the back seat with you?”
Jude picked it up. “Law no, I’d remember something like that.”
“Then how did it get in your tack room behind some sheet rock?”
“No iddy, boy…”
“Do you know if my mama made it to Hollywood?”
“No, she would never talk about it…why?”
“Because that’s where that painting came from. It matches one in my living room and they were both painted by the man who built the house I live in.”
Jude’s eyes got wide. “Look out!”
Before Ian could turn around, Reese was whipping the steering wheel hard to one side. The car spun around and a shiny ATV whizzed by barely missing them. When the dust settled Reese grabbed Ian’s shoulder.
“Are you okay?” He asked. Ian nodded his head and looked back and Jude. “How ‘bout you?”
“Fine.”
Reese slammed the car back in gear and pulled it back in the right direction on the dirt road. He mumbled several choice profanities.
Ian had barely stopped trembling from the near miss, when the car came to a stop again. This time in the old gravel lane of his Aunt Hil’s house. He sat in the car a moment, listening to the other doors open and shut and the crunchy footsteps of his companions in the driveway.
Ian felt a hand reach in a squeeze his shoulder. “Come on, buddy. This is the tough part, but it’s time to say goodbye.”
Ian looked up at Reese and nodded his head. He got out and straightened the wrinkles out of his pants. He looked at the old house. It was barely a shack, but Miz Hil had always managed to make it a home. He walked slowly to the back porch, looking at all the bushes and flowers trying to bloom in the too hot early spring.
The men followed him around the corner to the back steps. Ian stopped and bent down gently touching a rose, a yellow rose that had somehow managed to bloom, already sticking its head out of the unruly bush. Ian looked back at the men.
“I bought this for her on her birthday years ago.” Ian leaned over, sticking his nose deep in the hardy bloom and breathed in. “It smells like her.”
For a moment, Ian could see her, standing on the stoop, hands on her hips and smiling. Ian could almost touch her.
“Make me proud, boy.” She smiled. “You can do it. Make me proud.” And she opened her beefy arms, beckoning him to come into her arms.
The screen door slammed. “I thought I heard ya’ll pull up.” It was Janie Osbourne standing on the stoop, the memory of Aunt Hil gone.
“I was just looking around, one last time.” Ian said.
Janie nodded and folded her hands in front of her. Ian pointed to the rose bush. “This is the one. Kyle said he’d transplant it in the fall to Aunt Hil’s grave. You think it’ll live?”
Jude squatted down beside him. “Well, son, it’s been there for at least twenny years or more, prob’ly got roots to China, but it can be done. Long as we don’t break the original bulb, it’ll live, mebbe even have enough roots to keep a growin’ here.”
“Maybe they can send us a cutting, Ian.” Reese added. “It might nice to have a little piece of it growing in your own yard.”
“Like she’s a watchin; over ya.” Janie smiled.
Ian could only nod his head. He took a deep breath and stood. “Okay, shall we?” He motioned inside.
“Honey, if you don’t wanna…” Janie touched his shoulder as he stood before her. “I’ve already put a few things in a cardboard box, just little things I thought you might wanna keep. Sparky’s gonna come, an’ Billy and we’ll pack up everything, what ever you want.”
“I think I need to just go in and look around.” Ian said.
Janie stepped off the only big enough for one stoop and Ian opened the screen. He stepped into the kitchen.
It was as he always remembered; very tidy, very clean and cluttered with little nick nacks and gadgets. It even still smelled as though she’d made ham and red eye gravy for breakfast. Ian ran his hands across the muslin tablecloth, white with blue and red embroidery she’d done herself.
He turned and looked out the window, his friends still standing in the backyard looking in. On the sill was the little coffee cup she’d drop pebbles in for every fog in August and then try to match them against the winter snows. In the two corner shelves, there was the old crock, who knows where it came from, and a tarnished pewter pitcher.
Aunt Hil only used the pitcher on special occasions. Every Christmas and Easter she’d clean it up and fill it with milk and put it in the fridge to serve at the meager meal she’d always make for them. Ian picked up the crock, collecting a few of the nick nacks that for some reason or other made him smile and placed them inside.
He pulled open a drawer and found a biscuit cutter and an old wooden rolling pin. They joined the other mementos in the crock. He picked up the old black frying pan, still on the stove ready for use, and placed it on the table.
Ian strolled the house, crock held in one hand. In went a little doily he remembered seeing her crochet, along with a pair of gloves she always wore in the garden. He stopped at her bedroom.
He heard the screen door open and footsteps on the other side of the house. Ian turned when he knew they were standing behind him. “That’s her bedroom. I never was allowed in there.” He touched the heavy door. “I can’t do it now.”
“Reese would you take this to the car? I want to take these little things with me…and the pan on the kitchen table.” Reese nodded his head. “Janie if you would, pack up her clothes and make sure they go to someone who needs them. She never threw anything away no matter how bad it looked.”
Janie smiled. “She always would mend it, and wear it til it jest fell apart.”
“Then make a quilt out of the scraps.” Ian tried to smile.
Janie turned her face to the floor. She couldn’t help but try to hide her own tears. “I’ll…I’ll take ‘em down to the Samaritan’s purse, and anythin’ else you don’t want. She allus wanted to travel the world. Now she can.”
“What about the furniture and things like that, son?” Jude quietly asked.
“I don’t know. Is there someone who can use it? It’s old, but it’s still in good shape.”
“Well…” Janie spoke up. “The Clareys over in Glade. They got burnt out a couple a weeks ago. Lost pretty much ever thing. I’m sure they could use it.”
“Clarey’s?” Ian asked. Janie nodded her head. “They didn’t have much to start with. Call ‘em and tell them to come get it, anything you don’t pack up.”
“I’ll do it. I’m gonna go over and get the supper heated up. You gonna come over soon?”
Ian shook his head. “Thank you Janie, but I can’t. I just can’t. I think I’ll just sit here a minute and then Reese and I will go home.”
“At least come an’ eat a bite…” she said.
“I can’t, Janie. Not now. It’s too…hard.” Ian lost the battle to hold the little tear that insisted on rolling down his cheek.
“You come back when you can.” Janie wiped his tear away.
“No, Janie. I can’t. You understand?”
She nodded her head. Ian grabbed her and held her tight. “You come in a get anything you want. Anything at all, Ronnie, too.”
“I will.” They walked toward the kitchen, Janie in front, Jude arm around Ian, Reese behind. Janie stopped in the kitchen and pointed to a box in the old chair. “Take that with you. I found a few can goods, and some things that she had made a point over the years to tell me that she wanted you to have. At the bottom is her jewelry box. She always told me no matter what that when the day came it was to go to your little girl.”
Ian cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Janie, you’ve done good. You let me know if you need anything…anything at all. I’ll make sure you have it.”
“Oh Ian…” she said stroking the back of his head. “All we need is for you to be happy. You made the right choices, now stop wonderin’ if you did and be happy.”
Ian kissed her cheek. Jude patted his back. “You say goodbye for me? I just can’t take another heartbreak.”
“Sure.” She smiled, lip trembling, but a strong confident smile. “Com’mon Daddy.” She walked to the door.
Jude grabbed Ian and hugged him tight. “I love you, son. I love you with all my heart.”
“Me, too, Jude. Me, too.” Ian didn’t want to let go, but he had to. He had to let go and watch them walk away. He followed them to the kitchen door, his heart finally about to burst.
Ian took a deep breath and called out her name. “Janie?”
She turned to him. “I’ll have Blake call you on Monday to arrange for anything financial that you might need…for Aunt Hil’s things.”
She nodded her head and smiled. He walked over to the kitchen sink and slipped the old pewter pitcher off its place on the corner shelf. “And this…I want Ronnie to have it. Use it on holidays and birthdays, special family times, it’s not much but it meant something to her.”
Ian placed it in her hands. “And the cat.” He said. “The little long hair gray one? Don’t make him give it away. He says it’s his favorite and I want him to have it. Tell Kyle, that’s it’s the only thing I’ll ever ask.”
Janie nodded her head and was gone. Ian stood at the kitchen door and watched them walk down the old path between the fields he’d used so many times, and would now never, ever have to again.
Reese came around the corner and looked up at him. “You okay?”
Ian nodded his head. “There’s a box in here in the kitchen and that’s it. I’m ready to go.” He held the door open for Reese and pointed at the chair in the corner.
“You sure? We can take back almost anything you want, as long as we can get it in the car. It’s a hatchback, so…”
“I don’t think so.”
“Take another look around, Ian.” Reese encouraged, “One last look.”
Reece followed Ian around the tiny house, just a kitchen, a living room and a tiny bedroom. It was all so clean, so Aunt Hil, and so quiet, one of the few places he ever felt safe…and loved.
“I just want to remember it all like this.” Ian said.
Reese walked to a little corner and touched an afghan. “This is beautiful. I bet she made this herself.”
“She did. She’d sit in front of the television, watching her stories and knit or crochet. Every little project was for someone specific, some one’s new baby, a birthday gift for so and so.”
Reese carefully lifted it off the old rocker and folded it. “We’ll take this with us.”
Ian nodded his head and looked at the chair. “She said she used to rock me and my mama to sleep in that old thing.”
“This?” Reese got squatted down and looked at it. “This is beautiful. Do you know where it came from?”
“She said her Grandfather made it. It was the only thing of her family that she had left.”
“Ian you can’t leave this behind.” Reese stood up. “We can get it in the car, and there’s plenty of room on the plane. If I have to throw the seats out we’ll get it home.”
“No.” Ian said looking at the old worn out throw rug on the floor. “I’ll never use it.”
“Yes you will.” Reese walked over to him and put the afghan in his hands. “You need that Ian. The day is going to come, and you’ll wish it was there.”
“What to rock my babies to sleep in?” Ian almost sounded bitter.
“Ian, there will be a some day. I promise you that.” Reese put his hands on Ian’s shoulders. “Someday you’ll be holding a little baby girl in your arms, and you’ll be so happy knowing you can safely rock her to sleep in the chair that someone made a point to make you feel safe and loved in, you and your mother.”
Ian didn’t move.
“I’m taking it.” Reese said. “It’ll be at my house. I’m not leaving it behind.”
“Fine.” Ian said. “You get the chair. I’ll get the box. I’m ready to go.”
Reese easily picked up the old chair and followed Ian out in to the yard. They struggled for a moment to get the hatchback down, but finally managed. Everything slipped easily in. Ian slammed the hatch door shut and slapped his hands together.
“Any time you’re ready.” Reese told him, and he slipped behind the wheel.
Ian turned for one last look at the house. Putting his hands in his pockets he took a step toward the front porch, and then sauntered down the side of the house. He peered around the corner and took a glance at that one yellow rose.
He walked again to it, bending over to breathe in the scent on last time. He looked at the old stoop and there again she stood, his Aunt Hil. Her arms were open wide and her face covered with tears. She took her fist and tapped her chest. “I am always right here, baby boy…right here.”
“I love you, Aunt Hil.” He cried. “I love you.”
She blew him a kiss and smiled.
…And there was a blood-curdling scream.
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