All That Lives (36 page)

“Zeke, please! Must we have Dipsy? We will go ever so slow!”

Zeke shook his head, and would not do it another way.

“I seen Miss ’Lizabeth here go ever so slow once already today.”

“Never mind,” I said quickly, not wishing to discuss with my brothers how I’d spent my morning. “Climb up quickly, and we’ll
be off.”

They scrambled up on the back bench and I cuddled them inside the bearskin, enjoying the glow of enchantment on their faces
as they stroked the soft fur across their cheeks. They giggled, ready to go.

“Be mindful,” Zeke gave his warning to Drewry this time. “I done told you, the first snow excites the beasts as it does us.”
Drewry laughed at the thought of Zeke excited over anything and, adjusting the sheepskins over my lap and his, he took up
the reins.

The snow on the Adams―Cedar Hill high road before our house was as yet undisturbed, except by the track of an animal here
and there. The trees lining the sides shook their limbs ever so gently as we passed, sending cascades falling to the ground.
Richard and Joel squealed every time this happened and Drewry and I laughed at them. I felt very mature, like a lady, taking
my sleigh down the road, and I pretended silently Richard and Joel were my children and I had a husband like Josh beside me
instead of my brother. I imagined we were traveling to a Christmas service, or a grand event, to be followed by a music recital
and socializing, like Thenny said people in Nashville did at Christmastime. I allowed myself to dream the day would come when
all my life would be the happiness and light of my fantasies.

We were not far from the house when something appeared on the road ahead. At first I thought it was nothing more than a rabbit,
then, instantly, I knew it was a witch rabbit, as certain as I could see the black spot on its left hind foot standing out
against the white snow. I gripped Drewry by the arm.

“Slow up, and do not be afraid, but do you see?” I spoke quietly into his ear for I did not wish to alarm the younger boys.

“A rabbit!” Joel shrieked with enthusiasm before Drewry could respond and the witch creature leaped forward, straight toward
us, as if shot from the sound of his voice. The horses neighed and skittered backward, sending the sleigh bouncing sideways
on the lane, and then the sly creature dashed between the rising horses’ hooves, and we all near tumbled out.

“Whoa!” In unison Drewry and I tried to calm the old mares and hold the sides of the rocking sleigh to steady it. Joel and
Richard fell off the benches to the floor, but they were so well bundled in the bearskin they remained unhurt.

“Stay there, ’tis a safer place if we must dodge rabbits in the snow,” I told them. Looking down the road for the creature,
I saw nothing apart from the tracks of the sleigh, and a big circle in the snow where we had turned halfway round. Drewry
and I climbed out, and straightened the sleigh back behind the horses. We had just accomplished this and taken up our positions
on the bench with the reins, when the rabbit appeared again, ahead, but darting to the right, into the woods. Despite our
attempts to rein them back, the two mares pushed forward and gathered speed as they turned to follow the rabbit through the
small wooded area above our planting fields. God was with us for certain, as the mares flew wildly through the poplars, the
sleigh bumping crazily behind. We narrowly missed crash after possible crash.

“Close your eyes and hold on!” Drewry shouted.

I followed his instructions and did cease to watch, until we burst onto the white expanse of meadow, the horses full of speed
uncommon for their age. Richard and Joel screamed with equal parts fear and delight as we tore up the flat, and I prayed desperately,
please Lord, let us live. The rabbit bounced ahead, leading the horses to make a great circle of the field, and the tracks
of the sleigh deepened with each turn, causing the wood to glide ever faster as the surface grew firm beneath the rails. The
boys grew quiet and I realized we were on a frightful course.

“If you would drive us so, take us to Old Kate’s farm!” I cried a challenge to the creature, hoping it would cease its endless
circles. Drewry, without speaking a word of warning, pulled his gun from beneath the seat and jumped from the moving sleigh,
tossing the reins to me in what I thought was a very dangerous manner. On the ground he stuffed his powder deep, struck the
flint, and fired a lead ball so direct, the creature was struck down in just one shot. Joel and Richard burst into cheers
and shouts of admiration and I was abruptly able to rein the horses to a stop.

The boys threw off their skins, and clambered into the snow to inspect the dead rabbit and congratulate Drewry. I too climbed
out, but I had no desire to look at the rabbit’s form. I could not even look at my brother who had shot it and my legs quivered,
so weakened was I by the rise and fall of fear left in the pit of my stomach from battling the witch creature. I tried desperately
to recall what Josh had said I must do to fight my fear as I stroked Dipsy’s nose and loosened the bridles, allowing both
horses to bend their heads to the ground and scoop up snow with their heavy pink tongues. From the corner of my eye I caught
a movement, and looking up, I saw the witch rabbit, fast and well as before, heading back up to the road. I said nothing to
the boys or Drew. I knew the creature was off to do some other mischief and, selfish as I was, I prayed the Being would torment
some other persons for a while and not return to me. I thought it foolish to believe the Spirit in another form could die
by Drewry’s rifle, for a witch rabbit like any witch creature must experience no such thing as death. I thought there must
only be regeneration and mischief for all eternity for such entities.

I wanted to go home. The skies were darkening and the smell of more snow coming was present in the air. The cold seemed to
grow deeper with each passing moment and I wrapped my arms about myself, snug inside my greatcoat but knowing I would not
be warm much longer. Drewry and the boys were arguing regarding what to do with his kill.

“If we bring it home Mother might make us rabbit fur hats,” Joel said, his preference obvious.

“Witch rabbit
fur hats,” Richard added.

“Recall the jawbone and its relation to the Spirit. We will leave it here, where it lies,” Drewry insisted, and the young
boys were made to understand they would not have their way.

“If
you
wore a witch rabbit hat, sister …” Joel said thoughtfully, as I wrapped him back up in the bearskin in the sleigh, “if you
wore a witch rabbit hat, perhaps the Witch would stay away.”

I could not answer, for it occurred to me our prayers to God for deliverance had produced no noticeable relief, and neither
had Dean’s witchball or Old Kate’s amulets. I had tested Josh’s strategy and failed, and I could not tell Joel I thought we
were beyond the help a witch rabbit hat might bring.

We let the horses walk to the very end of the meadow where the stand of poplars broke, by the road. The gentle motion of the
gliding sleigh lulled us into silence, and I thought Richard and Joel would certainly fall asleep before we reached home.
I felt an intense tiredness myself, particularly in my arms, and I leaned against my brother, glad he was guiding the reins,
for I had seen a lot of riding for one day. We turned out of the meadow into the trees on the path toward the road and I became
suddenly aware of a change in Drewry.

“Sister,” he passed the reins to me, “I am so tired …”

He closed his eyes and I had hardly time enough to speak, “But Drewry,” before he laid his head onto my lap, overcome, with
a deep sleep. Over my shoulder I saw Richard and Joel also sleeping soundly and I realized it fell on me to guide the horses
home.

I kept them on the path to the road, toward the hill and house. We jerked along, despite my attempts at hastening the mares
by slapping their backs with the reins. They were fatigued and stubborn too. I began to feel nervous, as the tall trees shut
away more and more of the dim gray light. I tried to imagine how much stronger I’d feel if it were Josh’s curls lying on my
skirt and I recalled his words to me, “There can be no greater God than He who walks with you.” Unholy as I was, it was the
way his lips parted when he said my name that I drew strength from, not the thought of God’s protection.

We reached the foot of the hill and a tiredness unlike any I had previously experienced came over me and I grew somnolent,
watching the horses’ flanks rise and fall, hypnotic in their rhythm, climbing the incline yard by yard. In the next moment,
it was as if I were waking from a deep sleep. The sleigh jolted sharply and my neck jerked up. Ahead in the road I saw Father
on his horse, stopped at the crest of the hill. I rubbed my eyes to be certain and snow dropped from my gloves onto my cheeks.
Yes, it was Father, but something was wrong, his clothing was at odd angles and his legs hung limp, as though he had no stirrups,
and his spine slouched unnatural in his saddle.

“Look, there’s Father!” I cried, shaking Drewry hard with my left hand, but he would not wake. The horses seemed to find their
momentum at that moment and trotted up the hill toward him as though toward their stalls in the barn. Abruptly I wanted to
go more slowly, for something about Father’s appearance filled me with great trepidation. I saw a large black stain spreading
out beneath his horse across the snow as we grew near, and I realized it was blood, dripping from his cloak and boots, and
Father’s face existed no more. Inside his woolen hood his skeleton glared, white as the snow surrounding us but dripping strange
icicles of skin and muscle like the hanging slabs of meat in the cold storehouse. His teeth stood out terrible and crooked,
with many missing.

“God help me!” I screamed and I must have fainted, for when I woke next I was in the barnyard and Zeke was standing over me.

“Miss ’Lizabeth, Lordy, you’ll catch your death,” Zeke said, his voice full of grim concern. “Lordy, Lordy, you’ll catch your
death,” he repeated, worried, as I came slowly to myself, frozen in my position slumped over Drewry, still asleep on my lap.
My face was turned to the right and I saw the sky dark gray, behind the stable. A light snow was falling and I realized it
must have been falling for some time, as my arm before my eyes was covered with a thin dusting. I raised my head, and turned
stiffly to check on my brothers, asleep on the floor, wrapped tightly in the bearskin.

“Get the young’uns to the fire and get Drewry awake. The sleigh must get to the barn before the snow. Landsakes, where was
you?” Zeke’s voice was full of urgency and I turned back to him realizing the horses must have driven us into the yard while
we lay unconscious.

Father.

“He done come home,” Zeke answered. I must have said the words aloud, though I did not think I had. “Spoke not a word, but
he did not look well. Wake your brother, Miss ’Lizabeth.” I shook Drewry with both hands and some frustration, and he stirred,
sitting slowly upright.

“Sister …”

I wanted immediately to tell him, and Zeke too, what I had seen, to hear what they would make of it, but something prevented
me from speaking. I found myself behaving as if we had just come from the lovely outing we had held in our hearts at the outset
of the ride.

“We’re home,” I said, shaking Richard and Joel until they rubbed their eyes and climbed down from the sleigh. “Help to fold
these skins.” I made them stop, insisting they must not run immediately off. Why was Father back at home? The judgment in
Cedar Hill was expected to require several days. I felt weak at the thought of greeting Mother at the door, for I wished not
to expose her to the pain of the vision I had seen. If I remained silent, Joel and Richard would tell the tale of our adventure
as an infinitely more lighthearted experience, as it had been for them. They ran ahead while I waited for Zeke to light a
lantern for me to take to the barn.

“Hurry, Miss ’Lizabeth.” He and Drewry took the horses to the stable and I went alone. As I walked, the skins were a giant
pillow to my front and the lantern bounced so badly I was afraid I would accidentally extinguish it, but I could do no better
at carrying it, as my load was bulky. I was filled with worry over Father’s health and I regretted not having spoken my vision
to Drewry and Zeke, for it occurred to me the Spirit knew and told all. I startled myself, having forgotten for a moment this
was so, and I began to worry, would it tell of my kisses with Josh Gardner? Which would be more painfully revealed? My father’s
skeleton, or my first real kiss? I reached the barn door and opened the cedar chests, folding in the soft fur and skins.

Father’s owl awoke and hooted bleakly when I closed the lid. Without the bundle of fur in my arms I shivered with the cold,
and ran quickly from that frightening place. As I hurried up the hill, I hugged my arms across my chest and felt a curiously
sickening excitement. I knew the Spirit would undoubtedly tell its version of the day when and how it pleased, and though
much of what it spoke was ungodly lies, I thought at times the Witch had enlightened me with information, and I wished to
know what had taken place on the crest of the hill. Why had I been visited with that vision of my father’s skeleton? What
evil work was effected on me there? For the mark of evil in this instance seemed to me as black as the bloodstain I had witnessed
in the snow.

Mother met me at the door, her finger pressed upright against her mouth in the sign for silence. “Your father has returned,
and he is resting. I wish him not to be disturbed, for he fares poorly.”

I undid my wet boots before the woodstove in the kitchen and I noticed all the fruitcakes had been stacked in two towers in
a corner. They wobbled dangerously and gave my brothers reason to tiptoe about in exaggerated quiet when they came in to huddle
beside the fire. I went up and changed my clothes for dry ones and when I returned, Mother wrapped her own woolen shawl around
me, warm from her breast. She insisted I eat my soup before the woodstove.