Julia's Hope (13 page)

Sarah put a hand on Mrs. Graham’s shoulder. “Mama says you’re an angel. I want to live at your house forever and ever, and I want to give people stuff like you do, when we get enough.”

Mrs. Graham gave her a soft little smile and looked over at Robert. “You’re a quiet one,” she said. “What do you think about your folks tellin’ me I could move out to m’ farm again?”

Still staring down at his shoes, Robert took a deep breath. “I wish you would. We’d make it all right, and maybe everybody’d leave us be there for a real home. I never liked a place better in my whole life.”

He glanced up for just a moment, but before Mrs. Graham could reply, he spoke again. “We don’t eat real good, ma’am, but we always got somethin’. And we’re willing to share, just like you.”

Mrs. Graham turned her deep gray eyes to me, and I felt something shaking inside. “You’ve all talked about this, then?” she asked.

“A little. But we had to talk to you before we went any further.”

“I told you, you got no obligation.” Mrs. Graham lifted a hanky I hadn’t noticed before and wiped her eyes. “I ain’t a whit minded to ask you to leave, whether I ever see the farm again. I figure you’re just what that old place needs. Some life again.”

She suddenly reached her hands toward Sam and me, and we stepped forward, feeling equally uncertain. “You’re good people,” she said. “And I’m sorry you’re strugglin’ the way you are. If I had a pantry full of vittles, I’d send ’em with you today. But I want you to tell me now and tell me true. Not having to, not one bit, would you still want me out there with you? Would you?”

My hand was shaking in hers and tears filled my eyes. But it was Sam that spoke, clear and strong, and without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes. I’d take you today if we had things fit.”

I saw the shudder run through her and then the tears. She pulled herself forward in her seat to give Sam an enormous hug. “I used to do ever’thin’. Even help with the babies, you know. But I ain’t no good no more,” she said. “Not at nothin’.”

“You could order me around,” Sam offered. “I’m lost on a farm.”

“Hazel’d be fit to be tied!” Mrs. Graham exclaimed. “She’d think I gone completely off m’ rocker! She’d think I lost m’ brains down a hole in the groun’, leavin’ Rita’s when we ain’t but two blocks from the doctor!”

That caught me up short. “That’s a real concern,” I said quickly. “I know a little about nursing the sick, but we want you to consider everything and do what’s best.”

“You know what Doc Howell does when we call him? He lays me to bed, if I ain’t there already! There ain’t nothin’ else he can do. One of these days, I’ll have a spell with m’ heart and it’ll be m’ last, and there won’t be nothin’ he nor nobody else can do. The good Lord has his time for us to move on, and it don’t scare me.”

She turned toward Sam. “I’m gonna call Rita and have her fetch Daniel. He’ll take us out there in his delivery wagon, I know he will.”

Sam bowed his head. “I want you to come, I really do. But I need to get the place in better shape first—”

“Roof still on the house? Floor intact?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then don’t you worry. I ain’t a hothouse veg’table. There’s nothin’ out there can bother me! And don’t tell me you got no food, ’cause I know that already from what your boy said. You were serious, weren’t you? ’Bout me comin’?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been. It’s your home and you belong there.”

She gave us all a beautiful, sparsely toothed smile. “Then don’t you worry. We’ll help each other.” After planting a quick kiss on Sarah’s forehead, she reached for her cane and banged it on the floor. “Rita!” she called. “Rita, come and reach me m’ bag! I’m goin’ home!”

SIXTEEN

Samuel

I never dreamed we’d be taking her that day. But she was as excited as a child, insisting there couldn’t be anything about the condition of the house to dismay her too badly. “We have plenty of time till winter,” she said. “Plenty of time to make things fit.”

She gave Robert and Sarah a book of pictures to look at while she ordered Juli and me around the room, picking up this thing or that. She was delighted, there was no question, and we soon learned that Hazel Sharpe had told her what we were thinking after she’d heard it from Mr. Hammond. And Mrs. Graham had been hoping it was so, believing in us all the while.

There was no doubt she meant to move home and meant to stay. There was also no doubt that she’d already talked it over with Mrs. McPiery, who seemed only mildly surprised and nearly as pleased as Emma.

Juli and I put clothes in one bag and sewing things in another, both of us wondering if we were really ready for this. But Mrs. Graham’s enthusiasm was contagious, and we soon relaxed.

“We’ll stop by Kelsey’s for kerosene on the way out,” she said. “Got to have me a lamp to see by. I sure hope the outhouse is still standing.”

Juli giggled. “It is. And Sam cleaned it out already. It was just full of spiders.”

She nodded knowingly. “It don’t hurt to keep a few of those around. Less flies that way.” She picked up her Bible from the table. “Put this in with m’ clothes. It’ll ride soft in there.” She scanned the room, thinking. “Daniel won’t have room for ever’thin’ this trip,” she informed us. “But we can take m’ rocker. I gotta have that, you know.”

Half an hour later, Mrs. McPiery’s brother pulled up outside with his truck, and we loaded Emma’s rocker and three bags of belongings out of her room. “We’ll get the bed later,” she told Julia, but immediately turned to the burly man who was to haul her things. “You’ll get the bed and the rest of m’ things, now won’t you? Rita knows what’s mine. You bring ’em out just as soon as you can.”

Daniel Norse only smiled and scratched at his overgrown beard. “Where’s the chickens?” he asked.

“There ain’t but four I can claim,” Mrs. Graham declared. “We enjoyed the others when the snow was flyin’.” She turned around to Robert. “You want to go help Mr. Norse fetch m’ chickens, son?”

Robert just stared for a moment, every bit as surprised as I was. “You got chickens?”

“I’ve always had chickens. I was keepin’ chickens when I was the size of your sister. She can go and help you, if it’s all right with your mama.”

I was dumbstruck at this old woman who had her plan in action all around us. “You’re bringing chickens with you?”

She gave me an odd look. “You got nothing against ’em, I hope. They’re good layers.”

“No.” I glanced over at Julia, who was carefully folding Mrs. Graham’s near-done quilt. She didn’t look up at me, didn’t say a word. But we both knew it was just what she’d wanted. Just what she’d trusted the Lord to provide. What kind of pull did my wife have with God, I wondered, that she should get her desires handed to her this way? Next thing it would be a milk cow.

I shook my head as Juli sent our children out back with Mr. Norse to watch him catch and pen Mrs. Graham’s hens. Just then Mrs. McPiery strode up to us with two bundles.

“I got the seed I promised you,” she said. “There’s salsify too, and a bit of string bean.”

Juli was glowing. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t be strangers, now,” the woman said with a tearful kind of smile. “You let me know if you get to needin’ anything out there. Emma, I’ll be comin’ to see you time and again to make sure you’re takin’ care of yourself.” She put both bundles in Julia’s hands but turned and faced me. “I sure appreciate what you’re doin’,” she said quickly. “I never seen Emma so happy. There’s not many folks would do what you’re doin’.”

I shook my head again. “It’s nothing much—”

“She told me she same as gave you the place, Mr. Wortham,” she said, taking my arm and giving me a scolding look. “You could’ve gone on your business with your fam’ly, enjoyin’ your home, and thought nothin’ more for Emma. But it’s right Christian of you to consider her this way. You don’t know how hard it’s been for her, livin’ here.”

“That’s enough now,” Mrs. Graham cut in. “Would you mind gettin’ me m’ coat and m’ sorry old boot? And bring me up two or three jars of them peaches we canned last year. The kids’d like ’em, I’ll bet.”

Rita smiled and gave her friend a hug. “I’m gonna miss you, Emma Jean.”

It took a good while to leave Belle Rive. Emma Graham and Rita McPiery had a right to their good-bye, and they chose to say it proper over a cup of weak coffee and a slice of pumpkin bread. The chickens were clucking in their crates in the back of the truck, but I was in no hurry to go, even when the sky grew heavy with clouds. God was at work, and who was I to rush anything? I sat on the porch swing, praying that Mrs. Graham would be all right with her decision and that we weren’t all being fools about the whole thing.

When the kids had finished the generous snack Mrs. McPiery had given them, they climbed up on the swing with me, one on each side. They were delighted with the old swing’s sound effects and kept it going just to hear the creak with every push forward and the groan with every glide back.

“I’m going to be cooking for Emma,” Julia suddenly said, as if the thought had just sunk in enough to worry her.

“I don’t expect her to be particular,” I said, trying to assure her. “She knows our situation.”

“Yes. And she’s bringing laying hens. Did you see Rita stick in that old rooster too?”

“I saw that.”

“She’s bringing peaches too, Mom,” added Robert, who didn’t miss a lick. “And she’s got money, ’cause she’s planning to buy kerosene.”

Juli turned and gave him a stern look. “We’ll never ask Mrs. Graham for money. Not for anything. Not ever. Do you understand?”

Robert frowned. “How come? She said we’d help each other.”

“She’s already helped us,” Juli insisted. “She’s given us enough.”

“We’ll have to work together out there,” I told the kids. “There are a lot of things Emma can’t do for herself, but she’ll know what should be done. So you mind her good whenever she tells you anything, all right?”

Robert nodded briefly and turned his attention back to the swing. “You could make one of these, couldn’t you, Dad?”

At first I was struck by his confidence in me, something I thought he’d long since lost. But then I took a good look at the swing and saw that he was right. I could make one, if I were to take the time. Or I could make a couple of chairs of similar design, which the sitting room really needed and which Juli could plump with cushions. Doing things for the house wouldn’t be a real problem for any of us. It was the barn, the land, and the possibility of livestock that had me worried.

In a few minutes, Rita’s brother carried Mrs. Graham out to his truck and set her in the front seat. She didn’t look too heavy, but I wondered what it was going to be like tending after someone who couldn’t get around on her own. I could see myself carrying her outside to sit in the sun. But then my thoughts turned to her husband’s grave, which lay about a half mile from the house and across some rough ground. Sure, the place was a pretty spot, but I expected it would be an uncomfortable experience to be carried so far.

We all piled in the back of Mr. Norse’s truck with Mrs. Graham’s rocker and bags and the five protesting chickens in three separate crates. Then Rita came running out of the house with a box. The box looked awfully heavy, so I jumped down to take it from her arms and saw that it was filled with jars of home-canned peaches, beans, and such. I looked into the woman’s face, feeling a mixture of gratitude and shame.

She must have known. “Before you say anything, now, Mr. Wortham, I gotta tell you that Emma helped me put all this stuff up. She’s entitled to it, and you’re entitled to it too, on account of you’re gonna be keeping her place up and doin’ for her now. Don’t you be thinkin’ poorly for it, you hear? We all need each other, and that’s how the good Lord intended things to be.”

How could I argue with the good Lord? At least out loud. But I still felt about eight inches tall, accepting her help. It had been awhile since I’d been the one feeding my kids, and it might be awhile longer.

I found myself thinking that maybe Mrs. Graham could spare me from her farm. Maybe there was some kind of job around there, even if I had to leave my family and go clear down to Marion to the mine. I’d do something. I had to. I couldn’t live on Mrs. Graham’s kindness and Juli’s ingenuity forever.

“I’ll tell my church of you, if you don’t mind,” Rita announced. “Sometimes they gives new folks a basket or some such, to help ’em get started.” That was just what I needed. Another handout. I set the box of jars securely behind a chicken crate and thanked the woman, knowing I shouldn’t be so bitter. She was only trying to help, and Lord knows we needed it.

I sat down in the open back end with Juli beside me. Sarah crawled into my lap. With a last series of waves, we left Mrs. McPiery and her boardinghouse behind. Julia started singing as we bounced across the countryside. And before long, we were passing through Dearing, where Mrs. Graham merrily waved at everyone she saw.

We were almost home. With an eighty-four-year-old woman and an impossible hope. My mother wouldn’t be the only one to laugh me to scorn for this. The neighbors had already started. They would be looking out for Mrs. Graham, though. Looking real close.

SEVENTEEN

Julia

I loved watching Mrs. Graham enjoy herself so much. She seemed to know everybody we saw on the way and would pester Mr. Norse to honk his horn at near all of them. She even made him go past her church, just to show us where it was, and she beamed with pride when Sarah said it was pretty.

“M’ husband, Willard,” she said, “he helped put the steeple up.”

I wondered if she’d be wanting all of us to ride to services with George Hammond. Lord, how we needed a car!

“I hear they got a new preacher,” Mrs. Graham added. “Sure hope he’s fiery. Ol’ Hazel will give him the devil if he don’t stand up and tell her what for now and again.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Ol’ Hazel” hadn’t dampened Mrs. Graham’s spirit, that was clear.

We stopped at Dearing’s only service station, which we hadn’t seen before because it was at the end of the street going west and past some houses. The station had kerosene around the back, and Mrs. Graham introduced us to the attendant, who affectionately called her “Grandma.”