WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Five

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Five:                             Chapter Five I soon acquired two half-brothers, Franklin and Jesse. They were alright, I suppose for lit...

Chapter Five

         Chapter Five

I soon acquired two half-brothers, Franklin and Jesse. They were alright, I suppose for little boys. Now that I had brothers, I thought even more often about James, and hoped one day he would be with Sissy and me. I think in my heart I knew however, this would never be.

Melissa returned to our home after being in Kansas City for a long time. She was very sick. One night Sissy and I heard some of the grown-ups talking about her illness. She’d had an abortion and there were complications.

She also had contacted a terrible disease, called syphilis, which put big water blisters all over her body. The disease made her have a fever which would be so high she would be out of her head for hours on end.

She suffered a horrible death. I thought it must be because she was so evil. When she died, it’s terrible to say, Sissy and I laughed and laughed. Melissa was only in her twenties the day she was buried in mid-March. From our front porch I looked at the mountain and smiled; he too, didn’t weep.

One day, long after Melissa’s demise, Sissy and I found one of her high heels shoes. We would take turns wearing it. We also had acquitted a boyfriend. When he was mine for the day, I would wear the shoe. When he was Sissy’s she would wear it. We wore that old shoe until the heel turned completely backward. About the time the shoe wore out, we decided we didn’t want a boyfriend any longer either.

                                    *

There were many unique remedies for different aliments, or just simply to ward off sickness. For Itch, lard and sulphur was used as an ointment. Once our bodies were smeared with the smelly mixture, we had to take a bath in boiled poke root. It would burn so bad; when I got out of the tub, my skin was beet red. I don’t think it cured the Itch, either.

For snake bite, green cow manure was applied to the wound, which was supposed to draw out the poison. One day Sissy and I were playing and found a little snake about two feet long. We beat it to pieces and as we did some of the blood got on my arm. Sissy grabbed me by the arm and ran as fast as she could to the cow lot. She didn’t just put cow manure on my arm. She put it all over me – face and all. To this day she claims she saved my life.

Gooby would make a tea from all kinds of roots and barks, then make us drink it. It was terrible.  So bitter our mouths drew up in a pucker, and shivers would go through our body. The “cure” was supposed to purify our blood. We’d hold it in our mouth and if we could, we’d spit it out. Unfortunately, Gooby usually watched us pretty close and made sure we swallowed every drop of it.

                                  *

I loved spring time in Arkansas. Following a long cold winter and spring rains, the woods and hollows seemed to come alive. The May apple was the first sign of spring as it poked its head through the dead leaves on the ground; then all kinds of wild flowers would dot the fields and mountains with color and a sweet aroma. And then, the mushrooms.

Right after a rain, and if the sun came out nice and warm, you could almost see the mushrooms pop through the ground. They grew in the hollows and Sissy and I would take two big buckets and fill them to the brim. They were really a treat after eating beans, cowpeas and cornbread all winter. 

Sometimes we had to endure cornbread and molasses three times a day for days and days -- a delicacy from God were the mushrooms.

Other times, Sissy and I would take a knife and two buckets and go into the woods to hunt wild greens. We knew exactly what to gather, cow parsley, dock, crows-feet, lambs quarter, square weed, pike, dandelion, thistle, lamb’s tongue and wild lettuce.

Spring meant garden time, also, for us. We worked hard keeping the weeds out and cultivating the soil. Sissy and I would take turns hoeing and hauling rocks which were embedded in the ground. I didn’t mind hauling the rocks, but did not find any pleasure in using the hoe.

After the soil had been properly cultivated, fields of corn were planted. When the corn stood about a foot high, climbing pole beans were planted at each hill of corn. The time of bean harvest when they had matured and turned dry, would find Sissy and me with toe-sacks over our tiny shoulders. We were usually careful when picking the beans as we knew this would be our winter meal.

One day, we grew tired of picking the beans and decided to rest. We began to take the bean leaves and stick them to our dresses, making pretty designs. I’m not sure which of us began, but soon both Sissy and I were really giving Gooby the dickens. We called her every cuss word we knew. We imitated the way she chewed her chaw, then spit. Such fun we were having.

Suddenly, the air took on the feeling of impending doom, like tornado weather on the horizon. Even the birds in the trees grew quiet. We looked around and there stood Gooby.

She had been watching and listening to Sissy and me the whole time. She tore into us, beating us across our shoulders and back with a long stick. I didn’t mind the licks, I felt what we had said was true and I wasn’t one bit sorry. I don’t believe Sissy was either. Neither of us cried.

About the only time Sissy or I ever cried was when we thought about our mama. We were always looking for her to come and rescue us. We could hear the freight train whistle all the way from Rogers and would sit, hoping that she was on that train. I remember the lonesome sound of that ole train whistle and the pain in my heart as if it were today.

Wild geese would fly overhead on their yearly pilgrimage south, and we’d wonder if they had a home; and if they too, were sad and hungry. I think we thought they might be like us, unloved and unwanted.

One day our prayers were answered, almost. Mama did come to get us, but Daddy wouldn’t let us go. I don’t know how mama got there, nor do I recall what we did together. I just remember the visit was short. I do, painfully, remember when she left.

Sissy and I walked about a mile with her down the dusty road which led to town. We sat for a time side-by-side, under a sycamore tree. I believed in my heart she would stay, how could she not? We were her two daughters, we were important to her.

When she walked away, leaving us standing alone in the middle of the dusty lane, we knew life would not change for us. We held hands and cried all the way home.

to be continued ...

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Four

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Four:                            Chapter Four Myrtle being my step-mother and Gooby, my step-grandma was only a portion of my bad luck. My...

Chapter Four

                           Chapter Four

Myrtle being my step-mother and Gooby, my step-grandma was only a portion of my bad luck. Myrtle had a sister named Melissa. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was a lady of the night in Kansas City. She had a mean streak in her just like her ole mama, Gooby. She took great delight in mistreating Sissy and me.  

Although she could yell and cuss almost a bad as her mama, her meanness lay in her threats. I remember one time she threatened to chop mine and Sissy’s head clean off, just because she was mad at us.

She was coming toward us with the axe which Grandpa Kirk used for chopping kindling when Myrtle; doing probably the only nice deed she’d ever done, stopped her.

Melissa scared me so bad; I thought my heart would jump out of my throat. I could see my chest pounding - even heard it in my ears. I closed my mouth as tight as I could to keep my heart inside.

I truly believe she stayed up nights just thinking of ways to get Sissy and me in trouble.

Not far from our house was an old strawberry patch that was over-gown with Sassafras bushes and blackberry vines. One day when everyone was gone, Sissy and I ventured into the patch. We sought out and found almost a quart of the juicy, ripe strawberries. We stopped at the spring and washed them before heading home.

Not wanting to dirty any bowls, we decided to eat them straight out of the bucket. We first covered them with fresh cow cream and sugar. What a sweet treat they were. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of also adding a spoonful of vanilla.

The very instant Melissa waltzed into the house; she stopped still in the middle of the kitchen. She stood like a wooden soldier; her feet spread apart, her hands on her hips. Then she sniffed the air looking just like daddy’s ole hunting dog, Blue.

She bent at the waist, putting her face right in front of us and snarled … “What you kids been up to? I smell vanilla.”

We confessed we’d picked the strawberries and she flew into a rage. I covered my ears as she began yelling, “I was going to use those berries for Sunday dinner!”

Now I knew and so did Sissy that she wasn’t going to use those berries. I doubted seriously if she even knew there were strawberries or blackberries nearby. True to her mean streak, she made us lie on the floor with our noses in a crack for the rest of the day.

We didn’t’ dare move, talk or take our nose out of the crack. When Myrtle and daddy came home, they walked around the room, conducting their business without even a thought about Sissy and me lying there. I could never understand why daddy allowed everyone to mistreat us like that.

Many days, we would stay in the woods so we wouldn’t be whipped or mistreated. It’s so sad to carry a cloak of fear, especially when you are just a child.

The woods became an arena of freedom for us. There wasn’t a tree Sissy or I couldn’t name or climb. We’d shinny up big Oak trees, and then ride a limb down to the ground. We were like two little monkeys. We made grapevine swings and swung far out over deep hollows and creeks. Our wild yells echoed in the hollows as did our childish laughter.

We feasted on the many wild berries and grapes, my favorite being summer grapes. They were deep purple like a concord grape, only they grew on vines which wound high up into the trees. Sissy and I would eat the berries closest to the ground first, then without a care climb high up into the trees to feast on the ones that reached out to the heavens. 

We would eat, and eat, and eat the sweet grapes. Our purple stained lips framed smiles of freedom. How, I loved those grapes and the feelings I had inside me as I ate them in abandonment.

There were times when the woods gave me a scare. I could always rely on Sissy to be there for me if I needed her, and once I remember as we walked through the woods, we came upon a bunch of wild hogs. As fast as we could we climbed up into a nearby tree. We stayed perched on the limb watching the hogs push their snouts into the dirt, looking for food.

They made ugly snorting sounds, pawed at the ground and pushed and shoved one another.

From our perch, we could see the course hairs on their backs and heads. As their snouts rooted in the dirt, their breaths sent puffs of the dirt around their heads. They were a scary sight!

When finally they were gone, we started to climb down. Sissy went first and stood below me with her arms reaching toward me. She was ready to catch me if I fell, however I couldn’t move. It was one of the few occasions that I could not come down from a tree. After much coaxing to no avail, Sissy climbed back up into the tree and helped me down.

The woods gave us other causes for alarm also. We often had to go out in the woods and open fields and gather berries to sell. Sissy and I would pick the huckleberries first. They grew on low bushes in the woods.

There are a lot of copperhead snakes and timber-rattlers that we had to constantly watch out for. I’m surprised we never got bitten. I guess the good Lord watched over us.

When Sissy and I went to the woods to hide away, it was wonderful; however, when we went for the berries we went in fear. We didn’t dare go to the house until we had picked a bucket full apiece. The buckets held two and a half gallons. Daddy would take the huckleberries to the store and sell them. We got five cents, a whole nickel a gallon for them. With money in hand, daddy would go to town and buy sugar or coffee.

After the huckleberry season was over it was time to pick the blackberries. It was a lot harder picking the black sweetness which grew wild in briar patches. We usually wore our sleeves down around our wrists as the briars scratched and cut us, many times bringing blood.

There were a lot of black-snakes, coach-whips, blue-racers and green snakes in the briars also. They wouldn’t bite you, but scared me so bad I had to be careful not to wet on myself.

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Continued ....

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Continued ....: Sissy and I attended school at Mountain View. There were kids from age seven to eighteen. We didn’t go to school like most folks. Instead ...

Continued ....

Sissy and I attended school at Mountain View. There were kids from age seven to eighteen. We didn’t go to school like most folks. Instead of starting in September and going for eight months, we would attend for only a month or so at a time. When there was planting, or harvesting to be done on the farm, we were taken out of school. As soon as the farming was done, we’d return to school for a few more months, until it was time again to do something else on the farm. It was really hard getting an education in those days, especially being poor farm people.

When we did attend school; we all played games, even the teacher. She was usually just eighteen or so, and with only an eighth-grade education. Being a teacher was a good job and many a young girl left her education early to teach others.

Our school supplies were simple. One nickel tablet and a penny pencil. We carried our dinner in a syrup bucket which most of the time consisted of brown beans, soy beans or cold fried potatoes.

Sissy and I usually had the least for dinner, so we would go off by ourselves to eat. Being poor didn’t mean we lacked pride. We had plenty of that!

I remember how casually we would walk away from the school house carrying our dinner pails as if they were heavy with good food. Once we reached a grove of tall weeds, we spent the entire noon hour pretending we were eating. Sometimes other kids would throw away big pieces of cake and when no one was looking we would pick them up, brush off the dirt and ants and then eat to our hearts content.

Our drinking water came from a spring about half a mile from the school house, we took turns filling the water container. Usually two kids would go to the spring.

Sometimes the spring that was the closest would go dry and we’d have to walk almost a mile further for water.

I liked it when it was our turn for two reasons. One was a bush called Spicewood, which grew in abundance along the path. We would break off a small limb and chew on the end as we made our way to the spring. The more we chewed, the softer it became. When it was soft enough, we’d brush our teeth with it. Maybe, that’s why I have such good teeth today.

The second reason, we had to pass an old apple orchard and we’d always stop and get apples to eat.  Many times Sissy and I would hide an apple in our pocket. Knowing we’d just have more beans or fried potatoes for supper, we’d save our treat until we were in bed. Then, we’d eat it as quietly and as slowly as we could. We even ate the core.

I remember one day several of the boys, teenagers, decided to dig out a yellow jackets nest that had been built in the ground. As I stood hidden behind a tree, watching, the sun danced on something in the grass. I ran from my hiding spot and picked up the shiny object. It was a gold wedding band. It was so pretty. I had never seen one before, let alone held one in my hand. All the way home that day, I shined the ring with spit and my shirt tail.

The next day, I brought it back to school. During recess as I held it in the palm of my hand the sun again caught the golden ring in it’s light.

“Whatcha got there Edith?” A boy named Billy Stafford had snuck up behind me and seen my  treasure.

“It’s a wedding ring, a real gold wedding ring,” I proudly replied.

“Whatcha need with a wedding band?” He asked.  Before I could answer he dug deep in his pants pocket and pulled out two little bottles. One was red, one green, both filled with water.

“Edith, I’ll trade you these fine bottles of ink for your ring.” He smiled as he held the two bottles before me. The sun seemed also to dance on them. I looked at the fine good wedding band in my palm then to the two pretty bottles in his hand.

“Gotta think on it,” I said as I turned and ran toward the wood shed behind the school house.

“Last chance Edith,” Billy called out to me. Before I reached the shed, I had made up my mind. I quickly raced back to Billy standing just where I had left him and held out my hand.

“Here.” I said. His eyes twinkled as he placed the two tiny bottles in my outstretched palm; replacing the gold wedding band. Later as I walked home I carefully examined the bottles. They weren’t much bigger around than a lead pencil and about two inches tall. The more I looked at that colored water, the prettier it became.

When I got home, I told Gooby about my trade. She flew into a rage, swinging her arms around and pelting me with her filthy hands. I’m sure Billy didn’t get into any trouble when he arrived at his home with the gold wedding band.

                                *

I managed to enjoy school, even with all the hardships involved with attending. In the winter when it was cold, Sissy and I suffered just going to and from. We didn’t have any shoes to wear and walking through the snow and sleet was miserable.

I can still feel the sting of the sleet; tiny needles, hitting my face, which seemed to take bites out of my skin.

Sometimes our feet felt like blocks of ice. They would get so cold that as we walked along the frozen ground, sharp pains in our toes often made us cry.

Sissy had an old sock cap and when our feet got so cold we couldn’t stand it any longer, she’d take the cap and out our feet into it. I remember so many times, she’d put my feet; which had turned blue-white from the cold, between her hands and rub and rub.

“It’s alright,” she’d say. When I think back, I can see there were many times her own feet were freezing, yet she always warmed my feet first.

As soon as our feet had warmed up a bit, we would race off through the cold as fast as we could go. Sissy and I had to stop so often though that usually we were late for school and had to stay inside at recess with our nose in a circle drawn on the chalkboard. I really didn’t mind the circle; I just hated standing there with my back side to the other kids.

It’s strange now when I recall, how walking through the snow to school was a terrible trauma, yet playing in the white drifts were a delight. Sissy and I would take a old rocking chair up a steep hill when the snow was real deep, get into it and then slide all the way to the bottom. Such fun!

Catching rabbits in the snow was fun also; we could easily see their little tracks and carefully followed them. Though we never once caught one, we spent many an enjoyable hour trying.

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Three

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Three:                           Chapter Three When my daddy and Myrtle Kirk married it was such a sad day for me. Myrtle was just fifteen-...