Ghost on Black Mountain (17 page)

“I’m here to sell the house, and I want to show you the cemetery. You’ll have to bring me here for burying.” He watched Nellie, who gazed down in the water. She looked up and smiled. I wanted to grab her and go home. The air was thick with a omen that Owen would never profess to believing.

“Can we live here forever?” Nellie yelled.

Owen’s face melted into a smile. The bad moment was gone.

“What about all your friends?” I spoke ahead of him.

Nellie’s face grew serious, and she looked so much like Owen I had to look away. “I can make new friends, Mama.”

Owen gave a little chuckle. “I just bet you could too. But we’re here to sell that house over there. A friend is going to buy it.”

“Who?” How could this be news to me?

“A man I used to sit on that very dock and fish with. He’s buying it for his sister who never bothered to get married.”

“Owen, how could all this happen without me knowing?”

His cheeks turned red. “I don’t owe you my past, Josie. It’s no place for you.”

The words stung my heart.

“This will be your money when I die.”

A chill walked into my heart and closed the door. I’d never thought of a life without Owen. A woman had to have a husband. They couldn’t live on their own. That was just a fact of life. “Are you dying?”

He smiled and walked to Nellie. “Nope. I’m getting rid of an empty house. A house with bad stories. It’s just that and nothing more.”

We were so different, me and him. We were together because that is what men and women did. They got married.

The salt was so strong I could taste it, but I couldn’t make myself come in from the front porch that faced the river. Imagine a river nearly in a person’s front yard. Like Nellie, I began to wish I could live in the little town. Somehow I had it in my head a life in Darien would be simpler. The magic Owen must have felt as a boy was catching like a sore throat. The air was full of fancy little fairies hidden out of sight. I was turning into a little girl.

Nellie’s voice carried out of the upstairs bedroom. Her and Owen had been talking a long time. I rocked back and forth. A blue-gray bird flew through the moss-covered trees, unfolding long legs, landing in the marsh. Several other white and gray birds dipped in and out of the river. What a world this was compared to Asheville, with its mountains and rushing creeks. This river moved so slow I couldn’t see a current. The wind rippled along the water, a lazy movement at most. Time stood still as clouds built high and moved across the hazy sky. Just a hint of cooler night air ruffled my blouse. Nellie talked and talked.

“I love yellow. Mama tries to always give me something yellow to wear. She made this dress.”

Now why in the world would she be telling her daddy about a dress he already knew about? Then I saw Owen’s familiar figure walking down the path to the house. I stood. Who was Nellie talking to?

“I love the mountains and so does Mama. It’s a real nice place to live. I think you’re wrong. I don’t think I’ll ever come here to live even when I grow up.”

Owen ran his fingers through his head full of dark hair.
“You want to walk to the cemetery so I can show you the family plot?”

I shook off Nellie’s talking and pointed to the blue-gray bird. “What kind of bird is that?”

“That’s a blue heron. Mama always said that if you’re seeing a blue heron for the first time, it’s because you’re standing on shifting sand and you need balance.” He looked at the marsh.

“What about me, Owen?”

He cocked his head at me. “What about you?”

I took a deep breath and watched the heron. “Where am I going to be buried if you’re down here? Husband and wife are normally buried together.”

“I figured you could be buried right beside me if that’s what you want. I always got the feeling you didn’t much want that, Josie. We ain’t been much of a couple.” He walked in the direction of the street. “Come on and we’ll look at our resting place.”

The whole thing didn’t make a bit of sense to me. “Let me get Nellie.”

All was quiet in the house. “Nellie, let’s go walk with your daddy.”

Nellie came through the door wearing her pink sleeveless jumper. “What kind of walk? Are we going to look for some gators, Daddy?”

Owen winked at her. “I bet you could catch one.”

“Who were you talking to, Nellie?” I ignored Owen.

“A lady who used to live in this house.”

Owen snorted and walked up the path to the street.

“Don’t make up stories, Nellie. You’ll make your daddy mad.” But I knew my girl wouldn’t fib.

Her hurt showed in the way she wrinkled her nose. “I ain’t lying, Mama. She said her name was Pauline like my middle name. She lived here for a long time.”

Lord Jesus in heaven, my baby was talking to ghosts. “What was she doing in this house?”

“She’s stuck.” Nellie looked at me with a serious stare. “I think someone killed her. She’s a ghost.”

“Nellie, I don’t believe in ghosts.” I nudged her to move down the path.

“What about Grandma? You said she came to see us after she died.”

“She was a soul on her way to heaven. She wasn’t no ghost stuck here on this earth.”

“Pauline said she can’t remember what happened. She asked me all kinds of questions about Daddy.”

A chill spread through my whole body this time.

In the cemetery Owen showed us where his daddy was buried. “I’ll be right here and you will be there.” He pointed to the space that wasn’t marked by stones.

Nellie was running all around. “This man here was in the Revolutionary War, Daddy.”

“Plenty of them. There’s a fort not far from here.”

“Where’s your mama buried?” I held my breath.

Owen frowned up.

“I’m your wife. I don’t know anything about your life here.”

He took a deep breath. “There’s some things that don’t need to be pulled out of someone.”

Dread welled up in my stomach.

“Mama wasn’t buried here because it wasn’t right. The church refused her.” He watched Nellie moving away from us.

“Why?”

He waited so long I figured he wasn’t going to answer me. “She hung herself. The church can’t abide someone killing themselves. Neither can the fishermen. I was considered tainted.” The air was still, not like at home where the heat bugs started
singing before the sun got behind the trees. She killed herself. This explained mostly everything about him.

“I know you don’t believe in such, but Nellie was talking to someone this afternoon that she called Pauline.”

He looked like the saddest person in the world. “Folks say they see her walking down on the dock at night. I’d hate to think she’s still here. She hated this town and wanted nothing more than to go back to Atlanta. Then Daddy died and I became a fisherman. It was way too much.”

“That must’ve hurt real bad, Owen.”

His face fell into a pitiful look, and he turned from me and walked to the next family plot. There’s always something more to a person’s story, things held deep inside too painful to tell.

Nellie stood near the Episcopal church in deep thought. It was time to take my girl out of that haunted town. Owen’s mama was so lost she hung herself. She was stuck in the place she hated the most. Spirits were real, and I could only pray that they left my baby alone. But I knew that was pie in the sky.

Twenty-eight

O
n November 20, 1930—some dates just stick in a person’s head—Owen was sitting in the kitchen before work, reading the newspaper. I was frying his bacon and eggs while Nellie ate her oatmeal before she took out for school. She was in the fourth grade and smarter than a whip. It was nearly Thanksgiving. Nellie had been studying on gifts she wanted Santa to bring. Santa was going to have a tough time visiting a lot of the kids. The bottom had dropped out of the whole country, and it all started with a bunch of stocks in New York City. People everywhere were losing their jobs because whole companies were going under. Folks in Asheville had been living high on the hog for so long they couldn’t see the bad coming. The city had built the fancy new library out of Georgia marble brought up here on trucks. Owen had been put out about that, seeing how he worked for the quarry and they had fine rock. Then the city went and built a brand-new courthouse, shipping in Tennessee limestone. What a waste when the old courthouse was fine and dandy. Mostly everyone was living way beyond their means. Shoot, if a person
wanted a new house they just went to the bank, got themselves what was called a loan. The bank gave them the money right then. Owen didn’t believe in monthly payments.

“Did you hear that the county is in money trouble?” I tried not to let my worry show. The county was a big customer of the quarry.

I had started me a laundry business in the year since we’d come back from Darien, and Owen wasn’t a bit bothered. There were so many women in the big fancy houses who didn’t want to do their own clothes. I filled the need by giving extra detail to their fine things. Washing, mending, and pressing was my gift. “Eagerly, that’s Mrs. Hamilton’s maid, told me she heard Mrs. Hamilton talking about how the whole county government might shut down.” I was worrying on my business. See, I was making some good money off those bundles of clothes delivered by colored maids in chauffeured cars on assigned days. Mrs. Hamilton had Mondays, a prime day, because she paid the best. Mrs. Tiller sent hers on Tuesdays and so on. I was pretty good at sorting things out. I kept Fridays open for those ladies who had emergency needs.

“We don’t have a thing to worry about, Josie. Our money is right in that old jar under the bed. You know that. My job at the quarry don’t depend on the county. Other folks need rock. I’ve been there long enough to make it through a slowdown. And your colored-maid friend is still in good enough shape to gossip. It’s the foolish who is hurting right now. Hard workers like us will be fine.”

But something told me that was a bunch of hogwash, that things was about to break loose and hurt everyone.

As Nellie and Owen headed out the door, I didn’t even get a tingle of something bad coming. I waved and then set to work on my own laundry before Eagerly showed up with Mrs. Hamilton’s bundle.

By lunch word had spread all over town, even on Settle
road, that Central Bank and Trust Company had shut their doors for good.

A soft little peck on my back door made me jump. Marge Marks stood there on my step, wringing her hands. She’d grown so old since Mr. Marks had passed. I worried on her a lot. She was just like family.

“All my money’s there, Josie. What am I going to do? The city is going to have to close down.”

“Don’t you worry none, Marge. I ain’t going to let nothing happen to you.” I put my arm around her bony shoulders and led her back to her house. “Me and you are family. Things will be okay.” I only hoped I could keep that promise.

She looked at me with watery green eyes. “Aren’t you glad Owen wouldn’t put his money in the bank?”

“You’ll be okay. What’s mine is yours.” A secret satisfaction welled up in me. For once I was proud of Owen thinking backward. “Lord, here comes Nellie early from school. They must have shut the school down. You go on in your house, Marge. I’ll be right here.”

Nellie had a scared look on her face. “Mama, teacher says all the money is gone. She was crying, all the teachers were, even the principal.”

“We’re fine for now. Daddy doesn’t keep our money in the bank.”

Her shoulders relaxed.

A bad feeling took up a place just under my ribs. “Still, I think you need to run over to the quarry and let Daddy know what has happened. We might need to make a plan.”

Mrs. Hamilton’s car moved slowly down the street.

“Go on and tell him about the bank. Ask him if I need to do anything. Tell him that Widow Marks’s money is gone. She’s crying and carrying on.” A desperate feeling spread through my chest.

“Okay, Mama.” Nellie ran up the road.

“Where’s she off to?” Eagerly wore her starched white uniform and black shiny shoes. The bundle of clothes was in her arms.

“I sent her to tell Owen about the bank.”

“You got all your money there?” She looked concerned.

“Naw. Owen doesn’t abide by banks.”

“Good thing.” Eagerly looked over at Carl, Mrs. Hamilton’s chauffeur and Eagerly’s husband. “Miz Hamilton don’t seem too worried for herself—I figured she’s got her money in some other bank—but Miz Tiller has been beside herself ever since word came early this morning. She be waiting for Mr. Tiller to come home. He’s a bigwig in the mayor’s office, you know.”

I nodded.

Eagerly had been with Mrs. Hamilton since she turned twenty. She was kissing fifty. “We never put our money in the bank. Carl said if they won’t let us coloreds eat at the lunch counter, why would we give them our money? We’ll make do as long as Mrs. Hamilton needs us.” There wasn’t a trace of worry in her face.

“Looks like that other shoe has finally fell,” I said. “I’ve been reading my tea leaves and it don’t look good. I see nothing but hard times. When I cipher them, I can’t tell who for. That’s real foggy. This bad feeling is bigger than just my family and smaller than me and you. Maybe it means Owen’s going to lose his job. Or maybe it’s Nellie. I just don’t know.” I gave her that look women give each other when they know the burdens each other carry. “Come on in and have a cup of tea.” I took the bundle of clothes, knowing full well Eagerly wouldn’t come in. I liked this woman better than any woman I’d ever met and I didn’t care what color she was, but us sitting down and having a nice cup of tea wasn’t done. She could lose her job or worse.