Ghost on Black Mountain (15 page)

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Authors: Ann Hite

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Ghost, #Historical, #Family Life

BOOK: Ghost on Black Mountain
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W
e’d only been married two years when I found out I was going to have Nellie. It was the summer of 1920 and women were busy winning the right to vote, meaning my baby girl would come into a world that gave women a better life.

Owen just made a face when I pointed it out. “Women already got the world by the tail. Men work and they stay home looking pretty. How hard is that?”

I wanted to throw a shoe at him. He’s lucky I didn’t. My being with child made me hate him at the time.

The day my pains started, I sent word to Owen at the quarry to meet me at the hospital. We had argued for two months about having the baby at home. Owen felt hospitals were a waste of money. Me, I didn’t see any reason to live in the past. The truth was I didn’t like having a baby one bit.

My neighbor, Marge Marks, took me to the emergency room in her Model T, talking to me the whole way. I don’t know what time Owen showed up but I do know thirty-six hours later Nellie came into the world and I promised myself I’d never have to go through that again.

“It’s a girl, Mrs. Clay.” The nurse spoke softly.

A girl. I wanted a girl. Nellie was the prettiest baby I ever laid eyes on. She didn’t even cry. I fell in love.

Owen hovered in the door with a put-out look on his face. He was fretting on how he had missed a day of work. “So, it’s a girl?” His voice was flat and disappointed.

“She’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.” I flashed him a big smile that invited him to join me.

“Hm.” He walked to the bed and peeked into my bundle.

“I think we’ll call her Nellie.” I waited.

Owen’s lips drew up into a sour look. “Nellie. Where’d you get that name?”

The truth was I dreamed it one night early on, but I didn’t dare tell him. He didn’t hold with dreams or any superstitions. “I just thought it was a right pretty name.”

“I was thinking we’d call her my mama’s name, Pauline.”

Owen never would speak about his mother, and now he wanted to name my child in honor of her. Something wasn’t right. “Oh, that’s a pretty name, but why don’t we call her Nellie Pauline?”

“Why not Pauline first?” He was watching our baby close.

“Don’t you think we need to keep your mama’s name just for her?”

He thought a minute. “Yeah.” With one of his knuckles, he softly rubbed Nellie’s cheek. She turned, searching with her mouth. “One day I’m taking you to see where your daddy is from, little girl.” His forehead was smooth. Owen had his good sides and they always made me happy when they showed up.

So that’s how Nellie came into the world. She dodged a bad name and charmed her daddy. Owen wasn’t all over me every night and that was the best gift I could have gotten. Frankly all that business was boring, dull as tarnished brass. I took care of
our little house and Nellie. Owen never came home to an empty table, and I never did without anything I wanted. I guess you could say Owen and me had come to some kind of agreement in our marriage.

Mama came across town every Wednesday to see her new grandbaby. Lord, she loved Nellie better than anything. She loved her so much she never brought up my mistake of marrying Owen, even though she must have seen evidence every time she walked in my door. One Monday morning, Mama came strolling up the walk wearing her prettiest hat and dress. That wasn’t like her.

“Mama, you’re dressed up today. You got a doctor’s appointment?” I was glad to see her because Nellie had been fussy for days.

Mama’s smile was weak and she looked a little pale.

“Are you okay, Mama?”

She went straight to her chair at the kitchen table. The sun poured in the yellow curtains she had made for the windows. “I’m better than I was early this morning, Miss Josie.”

That was the name she called me when I was little and she had to give me some bad news.

“Don’t you want to see Nellie?” Normally she would have grabbed the baby first thing.

She folded her hands in her lap and tilted her head just enough to catch the sun in her blond hair, not one bit of gray. I got to thinking on how old she was. She sure wasn’t old enough to be a grandma. “I think I might have something catching, but I wanted to peek at Miss Priss this morning.” She stood and looked into the cradle.

A little shudder ran across her shoulders that seemed suddenly frail. “It’s really kind of selfish. Lordy, this baby is going to see some hard times, Miss Josie, hard times.” She had tears in her eyes.

I never got mad at my mama, but I was angry in that instant. “What’s wrong with you today, Mama?” My words were a bit sharp, but she was whispering to Nellie and didn’t pay me no mind.

Mama stood up straight and pulled on her dress. “I got to go now. I just wanted to see you and tell Nellie a thing or two.”

I reached out to touch her, but she pulled away. “What’s wrong, Mama? How’d you get here? I don’t see the car.”

For a minute she looked confused, but then her face cleared. “You take care now, Miss Josie. I love you so much.” She moved to the door and Nellie began to wail.

“Wait and I’ll walk with you.” I turned to get Nellie.

“No need.”

The door clicked as I pulled Nellie from her cradle. “Let’s go see where your grandma is going. Something just ain’t right.”

Mama wasn’t anywhere to be seen. A horrible feeling crawled under my skin.

Marge was sitting on her front porch. “Josie, who you looking for?”

“Did you see my mama?”

Marge looked at me a little strange. “Ain’t been a soul on this street for the past hour.”

I didn’t argue. I thought of using Marge’s phone to call Daddy, but I knew he’d be in the fields. The strange feeling stayed with me into the afternoon.

I was making my midday meal when I heard Daddy’s truck crunch the gravel in the drive. He had never come to my house. I threw open the door, trying not to show the panic in my chest.

His face was a gray color. “I need you to come with me, Josie.”

“What’s wrong, Daddy?”

“Now, girl!” Daddy wasn’t one to yell at me, mostly because I stayed on his good side.

“I got to let Owen know and get the baby.”

“Hurry. I’ll stop at the quarry.”

I wrapped Nellie in a blanket and rushed out to the truck.

Daddy didn’t speak. He drove like he was somewhere else other than behind the wheel.

“Did Mama make it back home?” I wasn’t looking at his face because Nellie was cooing. She’d been in a right good mood since Mama left. When Daddy stopped the truck in the middle of the road, I looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you pulling my leg, Josie?” His tone told me he was angry.

“No sir. She came by this morning. She was dressed up pretty in her church clothes. She told me she was feeling poorly. I thought she seemed confused.” I didn’t tell him what Marge said.

A car behind us started honking its horn. Daddy didn’t make a move. “You’re too old for lies, Josie.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I ain’t lying.” What was wrong with him?

He pressed the gas, and we headed for the quarry. “I ain’t never believed in haints.”

“Neither have I.” I said this in a sharp voice.

A shadow fell across his face. “If you’re telling the truth, and you ain’t never been a liar, then you saw a ghost today.”

I looked at the side of his face, studying on him.

“Your mama died this morning.”

Cold air filled my lungs.

“She was still in the bed when I left out. It wasn’t like her, but I let her rest.” He let his words sit between us a minute. “I told her to get up and call you to come take her to the doctor. I left her there.”

I couldn’t open my mouth.

“Are you listening, girl?” He looked over at me. “We got to get in touch with your sister.” Emily was older than me by six years. She’d been in Oklahoma for four years with her husband, Pete. She wasn’t going to come home. I knew this in the bottom of my heart. She was living high on the hog with her big farm and all. Nope, Asheville was dust under her feet.

“When I came home for dinner, your mama was still in bed.” His voice broke. “I got mad cause I was hungry. I even yelled. When she didn’t answer, I went to look. She had this horrible look on her face like she died hurting. God help me for my selfish acts.”

I’d seen Mama after she left her body behind. What had she whispered to Nellie?

We stopped in front of the quarry. My heart was beating in my ears.

“Go get Owen. We got a funeral to plan.”

I’d watched Mama prepare my granny’s body. I knew what to do. The women in the family cared for the dead. It was my job since Emily wouldn’t be home. There would be lots of ladies from church coming over. They were gossipy old busybodies. Our whole church was against just about anything fun. Their view of Jesus involved a man who frowned on anything that might make a person happy. It was hard for me to swallow, but out of respect for Mama and Daddy I always did what was expected of me and went to church.

Mama was on her back, a sheet pulled up to her neck. “Lordy, Mama.”

Daddy had covered the mirror and stopped the clock on the fireplace mantel. The covering of the mirror ensured that her spirit wouldn’t be trapped in the world, and stopping the
clock marked the time of death. But not in Mama’s case. Who knew when she died?

Mama’s body would be placed on the dining room table. I removed the lace tablecloth.

“You need something?” These were Owen’s first words since we picked him up from the quarry.

“You can get some water.”

He nodded and left.

Nellie had fallen asleep and was on a pallet next to the table.

Owen was back with a big bowl. “Do you want me to move your mama in here?”

I nodded, pouring some of Mama’s perfume into the warm water.

He returned with her body, which didn’t give in to him like it would if she were still breathing, but in his arms, Mama looked like a child. A sob caught in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

Owen placed her body tenderly on the table where she had served a dinner each Sunday after church. At that moment, I thought I could love him until we were both old. “You need me to stay here with you?”

I wanted to ask him if he did this for his mama, washed her, got her ready for burying. “I’ll be fine. Just keep everyone, especially the nosy church ladies, out until I’m through.”

He nodded. “No worry.” He lingered in the door. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was a good woman and I know she loved you a lot.” He kept his eyes on Nellie sleeping in her innocent little world. “Come get me if she starts crying. I think your sister wants your dad to come stay with her.”

A knot grew tight in my thoughts. “I’ll think about that later.” Daddy always loved Emily best. She made something of herself by leaving this town. “I’ll call you if I need you.” We
never said what we intended to say to each other, me and Owen. Maybe it was this death that softened us.

“Owen.”

He was watching me, listening in a clear-eyed kind of way.

“Most of what is between us is good.” There.

He stood still and then the door was empty.

“I need you,” I whispered, but to who I wasn’t sure.

The soft washcloth—one of Mama’s best—smelled like the fresh clean spring air. I dropped it in the bowl of water and perfume; a light lavender smell floated around the room. Mama’s silver brush weighed heavy in my hand. Her clothes had to come off, but I couldn’t do that just out of the blue. She was my mama. I had to work up to the task. The silky purple scarf wrapped around her head hid little blond curls. I ran my fingers through her thick hair, working her scalp like I’d seen her do each morning. The brush moved through her hair as if her body still owned her soul.

“Mama, you got the prettiest hair,” I whispered in her ear. The tulip trees were in bloom and some of the yellow, green, and orange flowers fluttered in the breeze to the ground. I don’t know how long I brushed. Then I worked her old flannel gown over her head. The sight of her body was comforting. I pulled off one of her socks and then the other. Her toenails were painted a beautiful bright pink. Oh, the ladies of the church would have just died. Using makeup or nail polish was considered vain and a sin. But there were those fragile toes, shining for all to see, a secret, a joy. The sight stirred something inside of me that broke me open. My tears fell for the first time since I understood she was gone. I couldn’t help but think of Mary kneeling to wash Jesus’ feet in the expensive perfume and drying them with her hair.

Gently I worked the soft cloth over her feet. The perfumed water made a puddle on the shiny table finish. This memory
would be preserved in the watermarks. I reached on top of my head and released the knot of hair. I rubbed Mama’s feet until the water and perfume soaked into the strands. Mama was gone.

She was buried two days later on a warm spring day. I watched the pine box being lowered into the big empty hole. I held Nellie in my arms. Owen stood beside me. Already I could feel him moving away from that soft place we had found. Mama loved me enough to come see me before she left the world. She wasn’t no ghost, just a spirit on its way to heaven. Amen.

Twenty-five

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