The Stone of Blood (27 page)

“Stick your hand in there.” My grandpa said shakin’ his head. “It won’t fall on you.”

So, with only a moment’s hesitation and a quick nod from my mom, I did.

I placed my hand onto the rock of the chimney, and into the darkened recesses of the stone.

“Well, ya’ll come over here now and have a seat at the kitchen table and I’ll tell ya about that there chimney and about how that crack had come to happen.” Grandpa said.

So we all sat down at the table and we listened as Grandpa began to tell us his story.

“It was about three weeks ago on a Sunday as I believe it was, and a great big old gray tom cat came up and sat up there on that windowsill yonder.” he said as he pointed to the picture frame windowsill in the kitchen.

“Now he was a big old cat, about the size of a bobcat or somethin’ …biggest goddamned cat I ever saw!” he said. “And I reckon that he was just as gray as that soot over there in that bucket of ashes.”

“Well he’d jump up there and sit and look in that window there you know and he’d just ‘Meow like that …real whiney like.” Grandpa said. “Meow.” He related again.

“Now we didn’t think anythin’ of it nor paid much attention to it.” He continued. “I mean it was just a damned old cat you know? But we got to noticin’ how the skies got all dark out all of a sudden like and kinda stormy whenever that cat would do that. Cause whenever the sky would do that, there that damned cat would be. Ya know?” Grandpa stated.

“I mean he’d just be sittin’ there lookin in that window and scratchin’ at the glass.” he said.

“Well you know I aint gonna have no
damned
cat scratchin’ my stuff or breakin’ my glass so I’d go out there and run him off!” he said. “But by and by he’d come back again. And I noticed he’d jump up there in the window and ‘Meow’ and then he’d jump down and go to the door and spin around. You know how cats do and things?”

“And then after a little while he’d repeat that and then he’d run off ya know? And all the while we began to notice this chimney.” Grandpa gestured toward the chimney once again and we all looked at it ominously. “The more that cat would show up and holler and things, the more that there chimney crack …well the chimney crack got bigger!”

Grandpa’s words and the vision of that chimney stayed with me. And though we left that day without ever seein’ the cat, it still remained a vivid image in my mind.

A few weeks later when we stopped by again for a visit, I ran back into that old kitchen just about as fast as my two legs could carry me! Right back to take a look at that old chimney! But this time when I went in there …the crack in the chimney was gone!

I asked my grandpa what had happened. Cause that crack was completely sealed up! And I asked him if he had fixed it or somethin’. I mean, you couldn’t even tell that there had been a crack in the chimney or even that it had broken and lifted up at all!

Grandpa sat down in his chair at the kitchen table and he commenced to tellin’ me what had happened.

Grandpa said, “About a week or so ago, and you know that damned old tom cat kept repeating his pattern over and over, jumpin’ up there in the window and things.” Grandpa continued. “Well by god I just kept runnin’ him off! And by god that cat just kept coming back!” he said. “And then one day, just about as quickly as it had all begun, that
damned
tom cat just stopped showin’ up! Now I was relieved and things that he was gone!” Grandpa related “I guess we all were.”

“But one thing had happened seemingly overnight and unnoticed.” He continued. “Without even a sound that there chimney’s crack that had lifted up those four thousand pounds of stone …a good four inches straight up off of its base…!”

“You seen it there and put your hand in the crack remember Toby?” He asked me as I nodded.

“Well without a sound or nothin’ whatsoever, that crack sealed itself up without so much as you can even tell it was ever there!” he said matter of fact like.

It was true. The chimney had returned to its former state and was once again completely restin’ upon its foundation. You couldn’t even tell that there had been a crack in it at all! I touched it with my own hands. Not even a chip was missin’ in the sediment.

Grandpa leaned in to me and then he whispered. “That cat was either trying to get into that chimney or he was callin’ somethin’ out of it!” he said as my grandma poured hot coffee into his cup. “That’s good Berthy, thank ye.”

“Toby I don’t reckon as we’ll ever know quite what that was, but you all seen that chimney with your own eyes! You know it to be true.” Grandpa said as he looked around at everybody in the room. “That cat would look at you full in the eye like he knew somethin’ that you didn’t. And I know for
damned
sure I didn’t!”

Grandpa sat back in his chair then, and poured the hot coffee from out of his cup onto his saucer to cool it.

“It was a doorway of some kind. You know a portal? That’s what I believe it was!” Grandpa said. “And that cat by god knew it too! Or he was sent here by somebody else to go in it or to call somethin’ outta it!”

“And by god that’s the
garsh-damned
truth!” Grandpa said as he set up and sipped coffee from his saucer. “And nobody or nothin’ can change my mind otherwise about it. No sir!” he said.

I never did find out nothin’ more about what happened to that old tom cat. I guess maybe he just didn’t come around much after that. I guess too that maybe he’d had a job to do and once it was done, then he just never had any reason to come back.

Of course it could also have been that Grandma and Grandpa moved from that house a little while after all of this had happened and we weren’t over there any more to see if the cat ever did come back.

I really don’t know what happened after that. But I reckon it doesn’t really matter. We’d been there and I’d stuck my hand in the crack and felt the grit of the stone myself. So for me …it made Grandpa’s other stories more credible, not that I’d ever had any doubt in em’.

As I sat there on that cold stone porch at Colby’s house I watched as my mama’s car came around the curve in the road.

I was awfully glad she’d finally come.

That concrete porch had grown harder while I had been sittin’ on it and my hind quarters …well …they’d just about frozen off!

Sixteen

How We Survived

F
rom the passenger side window of our white Chevy Malibu I watched as the scenery of my life and my town slipped rapidly by me; images of history blended together with park benches, street lights, family, buildings and people hurriedly walkin’ by. Mama popped an eight track tape into the car stereo as I rolled down my window and listened. And I looked out through the window as those warm summer winds whipped through my hair and pushed up against my face!

What was it then that held me there in that trance-like state …were it not for the longing of a peaceful recompense or restitution the past so urgently sought, whilst my youthful mind sought only the ability to comprehend it?

As we pulled into our driveway I saw that our next door neighbors
Mitch
and Sara had come down from their house upon the hill to visit.
They
were always fun to be around. Mitch and Dad always hung around together and tinkered on stuff in my Dad’s garage. And Mom and Sara talked a bit too, but Sara was a bit more of a peculiar sort. She was what my mama called a ‘
bird nut
’! Cause she raised birds and stuff like that.

They were all just sittin’ around in the livin’ room and talkin’ back and forth, so I went ahead and fed our dog, Mr. Whiskers, and then I hurried up and did the rest of my chores. When they were all done, I found myself a comfortable spot on the livin’ room floor, right up there next to my dad!

 
“…and mama liked to have killed me! She just kept whoopin’ on me!” My dad said. “If it hadn’t been for my older sister stoppin’ Mama, I wouldn’t be here today!”

“She might still be goin!” Mitch said with all of us laughin’ in the background.

“She liked to beat me to death!” Dad continued. “And I wasn’t, hell I wasn’t as big as Anna! And she liked to beat me to death! I think the madder you know …she got madder as she came down the line. And boy, when she got to me!” Dad said as he demonstrated the use of a cane switch in the air.

“Say ‘
Mama next time start out with me!
’” Mitch said holding up his hand. “
I wanna be first!
”

“I can remember two or three whoopin’s.” Dad related. “I remember Daddy hittin’ me by god, with a tobacco stick two or three times! We’d get up there in the barn and be doin’ somethin’ and he’d grab us with…” he demonstrated the use of a tobacco stick being used. “Em …em …uh …and boy don’t you think that tobacco sticks don’t hurt? You get hit with it two or three times!”

“No thanks! I’d just as soon pass!” Mitch stated. “One of the nice things about not having tobacco in
West Virginia
I guess.”

“They got willow branches.” Sara interjected.

“I never saw it ‘til I came up here.” Mitch said.

“You never had seen tobacco?” Dad asked.

“Well I have a couple times up here, you know.” Mitch answered.

“I’ll take you to where help cut it this time” Dad replied.

“I went over to Pappy’s; I went over to Pappy’s last year to see what it looked like.” Mitch said.

“You know it? I’ll take you to where you can help cut it this time.” Dad replied again.

“Well I know, but not say up close, I’ve never.” Mitch continued.

“I’ll take you over to Georgie’s and let you cut some of your own and put it in the barn.” Dad stated. “You’d see what it looks like.”

“I’d see what it looks like huh?” Mitch laughed.