My Children Are More Precious Than Gold (18 page)

“
Nuthen over at Spring
Hollow,” mused Cass, “Cept the Brown’s place.”

Looking uncomfortable, Jacky
concentrated on husking the ear of corn in his hands. Lue could see
that Cass was close to the truth, and he couldn’t resist pushing
on. “How’s that Miss Mary Jane Brown these days? I heared tell
she’s growed up right pretty with that curly hair of hers as yellow
as gold and those spring water, blue eyes that sparkle like
diamonds.”

Jacky, a red blush creeping up his
neck and across his face, stole a sideways glance at Cass, and a
pained expression crossed his face as he saw she glare at
him.

“
So it was Mary Jane ya
went to see, was it? I hope ole Man Simmon’s haunt gets ya next
time ya go over there!”

Swinging the corn stalk she held, Cass
struck Jacky behind the knees, causing his slender frame to buckle
backward and slide seat first into an empty pail behind him. The
force of Jacky’s fall tipped the pail over causing him to collide
nosily with the line of full pails and baskets, sending them
scattering in all directions, spilling ears of corn.

Laying on his back up to his waist in
the bucket with only the bottom half of his long legs protruding
out of the pail, Jacky’s dusty, bare feet kicked frantically in the
air. Helplessly doubled over with laughter, the Bishop boys were
unable to control themselves long enough to rescue him. His arms
were thrashing about as Jacky rolled over and then tried to stand
while doubled up in the bucket. He slipped on the ears of corn
rolling underfoot which sent him colliding with the pile of baskets
and pails again, sending them scattering. The sight caused the boys
to go into a renewed spasm of laughter.

The sounds of raucous laughter along
with the noise of tin crashing against tin caused the members of
the other teams to glance around. To them it looked like the Bishop
boys were fooling around instead of working. The commotion seemed
to be over the Tyler boy trying to get unstuck from a pail he had
sat in which didn’t seem all that amusing to the others. The teams
resumed husking as fast as they could, determined to get ahead
while the Bishops goofed off.

Bess watched her brothers laugh at
Jacky, and she was standing close enough to hear Cass fume under
her breath, “Serves ya right, Jacky Tyler!”

With the other team still in action,
Bess felt this horseplay had gone on long enough. “Boys, please hep
Jacky out of that bucket so ya can get this corn picked up and get
back to husken. How can our team win if yer goen to keep this
foolen around up?”

At Bess’s suggestion of losing, the
boys calmed down, looked around at the other teams hard at work and
decided Bess was right. Sid and Lue sprang to help Jacky out of the
pail.

“
Are ya all right, Jacky?”
Asked Sid.

“
Sure.” Jacky nodded
sheepishly, rubbing the places that smarted behind his knees where
Cass had struck him with the corn stalk. He squatted down to pick
up the spilled ears. The rest of the team went back to work on the
pile. After all, everyone wanted this husking bee over no matter
who won so they could get to all the good food and the hoe
down.

Vowing never to speak to that no good
Jacky Tyler again, Cass moved down on the far end of the line and
turned her friendliest smile on a newcomer to the area. She reached
for a stalk, pulled the golden ear out of the shucks, and wondered
to herself if the man, working beside her, was a good
dancer.

Through all the fuss, Jennie May never
missed a beat. Her blue eyes widening in amazement at the fun and
clatter as her fingers flew over the strings, ever livelier to fit
the action.

Chapter 16

The Bee Tree

Dillard pitched a wooden tinged, pitch
fork full of loose hay down through the loft opening into Daisy’s
manger. She moved her head slightly to the side, keeping her eyes
shut as she tried to avoid being hit by the hay while she continued
to munch. Don, his head resting against her flank, sat on a small
three legged stool that all but disappeared under him except for
the bottom of the legs. Streams of milk shot into the pail under
Daisy as Don gripped the teats. He took comfort from the wispy
vapor that hovered over the pail, because it warmed his hands as
the squirts of milk swished rapidly into the pail. It created a
fluffy foam which threatened to run over the bucket’s rim before
Don finished milking.

Lue and Sid got an armload of ear corn
from the bin to give to the work horses, and in the loft, Dillard
moved over above the horse stall to pitch hay into their managers.
Looking down at his brothers, Dillard stabbed a pile of hay with
his pitch fork, but instead of picking the fork up, he stopped and
leaned against the long handle.

With a worried look on his small,
round face, he said, “Sid, do ya think Mama’s real sick? I figure
she must be to let the girls cook and her stay in bed all the time
like she does.”

“
She’s not feelen too good
that’s fer sure, but she’s not sick exactly,” hedged
Sid.

“
Either she’s sick or
she’s not,” argued Dillard.

Lifting his head from Daisy’s side,
Don asked, “Then which is exactly wrong with Mama, Sid?”

“
Mama’s goen to have a
baby, and she needs some rest,” explained Sid.

“
What’s she goen to do
that fer? She’s got all of us. We don’t need no more babies,”
Dillard complained, climbing down the ladder to confront his older
brothers.

“
It’s not up to us how
many brothers and sisters we have.” Lue smiled at Dillard’s
question. “Cause if it was we’d have had Mama stop afore she had
ya, Dillard.” Lue reached over to rough up Dillard’s golden curls
to let him know he was teasing.

“
Ah, Lue, cut it out,”
Dillard growled, dodging out of his brother’s reach.

“
Hey, ya boys foolen
around, or have ya about got em chores done?” Jacob called from the
pig pen where he and Tom had just slopped the hogs.

“
Jest about Pap,” Lue
said. “Don’s taken his time milken Daisy. That’s about
it.”

“
I’m about done,” Don bit
back.

“
It’s right cool this
mornen so I thought we might see if we could raid that honey tree
I’ve had my eye on in the timber. The bees should be hold up fer a
while til it warms up,” said Jacob.

“
Sure, Pap. We’ll go get
some pails out of the smokehouse to put the honey in,” Lue offered.
“Hurry up, Don so ya can get that milk taken to the house for the
girls to strain. Dillard, let Daisy loose and shoo her out of the
barn.”

“
I’ll get the crosscut
saw. Don, bring back a lit torch from the house,” Pap called over
his shoulder as he headed toward the tool shed.

In the kitchen, Bess rubbed the inside
of the pan that had held the cornmeal mush with her dish cloth,
looked it over, then stuck it into the rinse pan. Cass picked the
pan up, waited for it to stop dripping and dried it with her towel
while Veder put the stack of clean dishes and pans away.

The three younger girls, each with a
worried expression on their face, sat with their heads in their
hands, watching the others do the breakfast clean up.

“
Mama, must be real sick
if she couldn’t cook breakfast,” began Alma.

“
Is she real sick?” Lydia
asked, a frown on her face. She worried Mama may have caught
whatever had made her feel sick last winter.

“
No, Mama’s not real sick.
She jest has to stay in bed fer a while,” Cass explained as she
turned to look at them while she dried a pan.

“
Mama, seems to be getten
fat lately. Is that what has made her sick?” Lillie looked at the
older girls for an answer and noticed the smiles that passed
between them. “Okay, ya know a secret. I can tell. So what is it?”
Demanded Lillie.

Cass came over to the table and leaned
over toward the girls. She whispered, “Mama, is goen to have a
baby.”

“
A tiny baby!” Lydia
squeaked excitedly.

“
A boy or a girl?” Asked
Alma.

“
When will it get here?”
Lillie wanted to know.

“
What will we name it?”
Asked Lydia.

“
Hold it!” Cass held up a
hand to quiet the little girls. “One question at a time. Yep, the
baby will be tiny. It’ll be here sometime in January. We won’t know
if it will be a brother or a sister until it gets here. The name,
Mama will pick jest like she did fer all of us.”

The screen door opened with a clatter,
and Don stuck his head in. He held out the pail of milk for one of
the girls to take. “Hand me a lit torch, will ya Bess?”

Bess reached behind the stove for a
torch. She opened one of the circle lids on the cookstove, stuck
the torch in to light it and handed the burning torch to Don. He
took it and slammed the door behind him, before he bounced down the
porch steps.

Don heard the door squeak
open.

“
Hey, what’s yer hurry?”
Bess called after him.

“
We’re goen to raid that
bee tree Pap’s been watchen,” Don replied over his shoulder as he
kept going toward where Pap and the boys gathered by the tool
shed.

Bess ducked her head back into the
cabin and shut the door to block out the cool fall air. She turned
to see Cass had placed a crock on the work counter. She was
straining the milk through a dish towel. Bess took hold of the dish
towel and pulled it tight so it wouldn’t fall into the crock from
the weight of the milk as Cass tipped the pail to pour. Soon all
that was left on the dish towel was a heap of foam mingled with a
few stray tan hairs from Daisy and flecks of dirt that fell from
her while Don milked.

Cass picked the crock up to carry to
the spring house. Veder opened the door and followed her out.
Sitting in the middle of the spring’s run off to the creek was a
small bottomless shed. Inside were shelves above the water level
and some below. In those days, a spring house took the place of
refrigerators. The girls tucked the tail of their dresses up into
their waist bands, then wadded barefoot into the very cold water.
Veder took the lead so she could open the spring house door. Cass
wadded into the dark cool shed and placed the crock along side
other containers on a shelf.

“
There now. We can come
back as soon as we get time when the milk has cooled. We'll skim
the cream offen the top to make butter,” Cass said as she backed
out of the door and closed it.

Veder edged carefully across the
stream, watching silver minnows dart out of her way in the clear
water. She headed for the green mat of watercress that grew behind
the spring house and spread to the bank. The plants small, bright
green, leafy, clusters looked inviting enough to eat despite the
fact she could see white blooms scattered about.

“
Don’t ya wish that
watercress was still good to eat? A mess of that would sure taste
good with a pan of hot cornbread.” Cass seemed to be reading
Veder’s mind.

Veder, standing at the edge of the
mass of watercress, broke off a cluster and brought it out of the
water to inspect. The green, scalloped leaves, attached to stems
covered with white roots, snapped crisply. She nibbled on a leaf,
then spit it out and tossed the rest of the plant into the
spring.

“
That watercress is too
hot! We’ll have to wait until spring to gather any of that. We best
go pick some greens and turnips fer dinner, Cass.”

While the girls picked fall vegetables
in the garden, Jacob and the boys climbed up the ridge,
disappearing into the timber on their way to the honey tree. All
summer, Jacob had been watching the bees going in and out of the
hole in the tree, waiting for fall to rob the honey for the
family’s winter use.

Treks through the timber was something
that Jacob and the boys enjoyed, but it was also a serious matter
of survival for the boys to learn how to gather food from the
woods. Jacob had taught his sons how to hunt mushrooms, nuts,
herbs, and wild game as well as watching for a honey
tree.

The lush tree and brush foliage had
taken on the colors of fall and floated down around them to make a
deep carpet of dried leaves that rustled where they walked.
Occasionally, there would be a plunk when a walnut, pecan, acorn or
hickory nut hit the ground.

A loud, raspy chatter high in a tree
ahead of them got everyone’s attention. Lue pointed at the squirrel
he spied perched on a limb, eating an acorn. His bright red, fuzzy
coat contrasted with the blue of the sky, making him stand out
easily. “Lookee there!” Lue said. “Another squirrel!”

“
How many of em have we
seed so fer?” Sid asked. “They must know we didn’t bring a rifle
with us. They sure are acten brave.”

Continuing on their way, Lue happened
to notice a grove of persimmon trees that were loaded with fruit.
The sweet, golden fruit was just right to eat, although the
persimmons were a lot of work to get ready for cooking, filled with
good sized flat seeds throughout the pulp.

“
Pap, on the way back home
kin we stop and pick some of these persimmons? Mama could make us
some sweet bread,” Lue wanted to know.