Bridge to Cutter Gap / Silent Superstitions / The Angry Intruder (16 page)

Ruby Mae's non-stop chattering has me seriously considering making cotton plugs for my ears. Miss Alice has a Quaker saying she often uses—“Such-and-such a person is meant to be my bundle.” Well, like it or not, Ruby Mae is clearly going to be my bundle.

Sometimes, I think I am beginning to make progress. Yesterday, Mary O'Teale and Ruby Mae and some others were telling each other “haunt tales” about an old witch, and when I tried to reassure them not to be frightened of the dark, I think I actually managed to reach them. Of course, that was easy for me to understand— I had the same fears as a child.(When I remember the ghost stories George and I used to tell each other, I still get the shivers!)

But later, when Lundy Taylor (another big problem) tripped little Mary and sent her falling down the icy mountain slide the boys had made, Mary's great-grandmother blamed me. It wasn't just that Mary had been hurt, it was something more—some deep fear and resentment for anyone not from the Cove. Try as I might, I'm certain that in a million years, Granny O'Teale will never like me.

Time. Maybe that's all it will take. I'll make friends with these people, I'll come to understand them, and maybe as I do, I'll come to understand my purpose in the world.

A loud knock at her door interrupted Christy. She slipped the diary under her pillow and capped her pen. “Yes?”

“It's me, Ruby Mae.”

Christy sighed. “Just a second, Ruby Mae.”

When Christy opened the door, Ruby Mae burst into the room as if it were her own. “I was thinkin' you might like some company.”

“Actually, I was about to get ready for bed.”

Ruby Mae examined her reflection in Christy's cracked mirror. “I think the preacher and the doctor, they both got a hankerin' for you, Miz Christy.”

Christy laughed. “Ruby Mae Morrison,” she said, “what am I going to do with you?”

“You never know,” Ruby Mae said with a grin. She ran a hand through her snarled, shoulder-length red hair. Halfway down, she winced.

“How long has it been since you combed your hair, Ruby Mae?” Christy asked. “Or shouldn't I ask?”

“Factually, I lost my comb. Disremember when. Onliest comb ever I had, too.”

“There are some bad tangles,” Christy said. “Come, sit here on my bed.” She retrieved her own comb from her dresser.

Ruby Mae plopped down on the bed. “I'll try not to holler when you hit them mouse-nests,” she vowed.

Christy started, gently pulling the comb down.

“Ohoo-weeee!” Ruby Mae cried.

“Sorry.”

“Don't matter. What do you aim to do when you get it all combed out?”

“How about nice long braids? Like Miss Alice's?”

“Be tickled to death with braids. But you'll have to learn me how.”

“Braiding's easy. I'll teach you.”

Braiding hair was not the only thing she would have to teach Ruby Mae, Christy thought as she tried to unravel the snarls. Ruby Mae's sole idea of cleanliness was to wash her face and hands a few times a week—never a full bath. It was not pleasant to be near her. And it wasn't just Ruby Mae—it was all the children. After the hair combing, maybe Christy would suggest a bath to Ruby Mae in the portable tin tub, and then make her a gift of a can of scented talcum powder.

“I'm going to have to yank a little, Ruby Mae,” Christy said when she reached a particularly stubborn snarl. She pulled as gently as she could, but Ruby Mae leapt back against Christy's pillow, howling.

“I'm really sorry, Ruby Mae,” Christy apologized.

“What's this?” Ruby Mae asked, pulling at the corner of the diary Christy had pushed beneath her pillow.

“Oh, that? Nothing. It's private,” Christy said quickly.

Ruby Mae frowned. “I just mean,” Christy continued, “it's a place where I write down things.”

“What sorts o' things?”

“Feelings, dreams, hopes. What happened today. People I meet, places I go. Diary things.”

“Am I in there?”

Christy smiled. “The special thing about a diary is that it's private.”

“What's private?”

“Secret. Things you keep to yourself.”

Even as she tried to explain, Christy recalled her visit to the Spencers' cabin—seven people, living in two tiny rooms and a sleeping loft. How could she expect these children to understand privacy? It was a luxury they couldn't afford.

Christy divided Ruby Mae's hair into strands and began to braid. When Christy was done, Ruby Mae gazed at her reflection in amazement. “Lordamercy, Miz Christy, you done worked a miracle!” she cried. “I look as purty as a picture, if I do say so myself.”

Christy smiled. “You do indeed.”

She watched as Ruby scampered off, talcum powder in hand, on her way to take a full bath.

Christy closed the door and pulled out her diary.

A small victory, just now with Ruby Mae.No more snarls!

Is this why I came all this way? To braid a tangle of red hair? To pass out scented powder?

Maybe so. Miss Alice says that if we let God, He can use even our annoyances (take Ruby Mae, for example) to bring us unexpected blessings.

Today, braids. Tomorrow, the world!

Five

O
n Sunday morning, the driving snow had turned to driving rain. Clouds hung low, sifting and churning like a dark sea. Thunder rattled the windowpanes.

As Christy, Miss Ida, and Ruby Mae crossed the yard to the church, Miss Ida tried to share her umbrella. But as they made their way across the plank walk David had installed, everyone was splattered by the icy rain. The combination of snow and rain had turned the yard into a sea of mud.

“If it's this hard for us to get here,” Christy said as they crossed, “I wonder how everyone else will make it.”

“Oh, they'll make it,” Miss Ida assured her. “Don't forget that church is the great social event here in the Cove. Remember how full the pews were last week?”

When Christy entered the room that had served as her school all week, she was surprised to see that it was nearly as full as it had been last Sunday. She settled into the pew nearest the pulpit. As she watched children enter with their families, she waved and smiled whenever she recognized a familiar face. Oddly, only a few of them waved back. She caught plenty of stolen glances in her direction, not to mention whispers and pointing. She was surprised when she called out hello to Creed Allen, only to be greeted by a stiff half-smile and an uncomfortable nod.

Christy was relieved when she felt a friendly tap on her shoulder. “Howdy, Miz Christy!” Fairlight Spencer said.

Christy smiled at the woman who'd befriended her on her journey to the mission. From the beginning, Christy had sensed that she and Fairlight could someday be good friends. Seeing Fairlight's warm smile today made Christy certain of it.

“Fairlight!” Christy exclaimed. “It's good to see a friendly face.”

“Oh, they'll warm up to you. Just give 'em time. My children can't stop talkin' about school. It's Miz Christy this, and Miz Christy that. John tells me you might be a-findin' him a new arithmetic book.”

“He's got a real head for math,” Christy said. “John's going to be a joy to teach.” She held up a finger. “And speaking of teaching, I promised you we'd get together for some reading lessons.”

“Oh, but you're just gettin' settled in,” Fairlight protested.

“Tell you what. Give me a couple more weeks to get settled, and then we'll get started.”

“I'd be mighty pleased,” Fairlight said.

She nodded toward the back pew. “I gotta get myself a seat before the preacher starts.”

Christy watched Fairlight settle behind her with her husband, Jeb. As Christy waved to Jeb, she again noticed the whispers and stares her presence seemed to be causing.

“Am I crazy?” she whispered to Ruby Mae. “I feel like everyone is staring at me.”

“No'm.” Ruby Mae glanced over her shoulder. “They's starin', all right. I reckon it's 'cause you're new and all.”

“But they weren't acting like this last week,” Christy said.

“It is strange,” Miss Ida said. “They're usually a more rambunctious crowd than this.” She wiped a drop of rain off her forehead. “Perhaps it's this odd weather.”

“Well, once the service gets going, they'll probably relax,” Christy said uneasily.

“The way they carry on during David's services is undignified, if you ask me,” Miss Ida said, shaking her head. “Singing and clapping and bouncing. David does the best he can.”

Christy smiled. It was true that the services here in Cutter Gap were nothing like what she was used to at her church back home. Before long, the first hymn was in full swing, and the atmosphere in the church did seem to change. The people sang joyously, tapping their toes and clapping their hands. No one seemed to be staring at Christy any longer.

Thunder rumbled like a bass drum as they launched into a second hymn:

It's the old ship of Zion, as she comes,
It's the old ship of Zion, the old ship of
     Zion,
It's the old ship of Zion, as she comes.
She'll be loaded with bright angels,
    when she comes,
She'll be loaded with bright angels . . .

Suddenly Christy felt an uneasy sensation. She turned her head slightly and instantly realized why. Three pews back sat Granny O'Teale. She was not singing. Her milky eyes were riveted on Christy. She was wearing an old black shawl, and around her neck was a crude necklace, tied with a string. Mountie sat beside her.

Christy tried to send a smile to the girl. Granny wrapped an arm around Mountie protectively.

Christy turned around, but as the hymn continued, she imagined Granny's gaze sizzling across the crowded room like lightning. Christy had seen something in those tired old eyes. If she didn't know better, she would have called it fear.

When at last it was time for David's sermon, Christy began to relax. It was silly to worry so much. Of course these people were staring at her. She was from someplace far away, and she was bringing new ideas to their children. Their curiosity was only natural. Perhaps they'd reacted to her this way last week, and she had just been too preoccupied to notice.

David was dressed in fine style, even though his congregation wore plain work clothes. He wore striped pants, a white shirt, and a dark tie. His black hair was carefully combed. He spoke in a deep, rich voice, measured and dignified.

“I plan to preach to you today on Mark 6, verses 30 through 46, the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand. Although I must say that with this weather, maybe I ought to be talking about Noah and his ark—” The room filled with laughter.

“But before I begin, I want to introduce a welcomed addition to Cutter Gap, our new teacher at the mission school, Miss Christy Huddleston.”

Christy felt a blush creep up her neck. David hadn't done this last week. Perhaps he'd understood how nervous she was about meeting so many new people. But making a point of introducing her today, with everyone acting so strangely, did not seem like a good idea, either— at least as far as Christy was concerned.

“Christy, why don't you stand and let the folks get a look at you?”

Christy sent David a pleading look, but he just grinned back mischievously. Reluctantly she stood, turning toward the suddenly hushed group.

“Look, Mama, it's Teacher!” Vella Holt cried out, waving.

Christy gave a nervous smile, then quickly dropped back down to the bench.

“I'm sure you'll all do your best to make Miss Huddleston feel welcome. She's a wonderful teacher and is going to be a real help to this cove—”

Just then, someone let out a scornful laugh. Christy had an uneasy feeling as she recognized the source.

She turned around to see Granny, grinning back defiantly.

Miss Ida laid a comforting hand on Christy's. “Don't pay them any mind,” she whispered. “They just don't know any better.”

Christy looked at the woman next to her in surprise. It was the first time Miss Ida had revealed such kindness. But before Christy could thank her, Miss Ida withdrew her hand and returned her attention to David.

“I'm certain,” David continued, his voice taking on a sterner note, “that you will all give Miss Huddleston a chance to prove what a wonderful teacher she is.”

Jagged lightning lit up the sky, followed by an ear-splitting clap of thunder. Christy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was going to be a very, very long service.

“You can say I'm crazy all you want,” Christy said to David as they finished up their pancakes at breakfast the next morning, “but I'm certain there was a lot of whispering and staring going on at church.”

“Well,” David sipped at his cup of coffee, “perhaps they were just entranced by your charms.”

“Stop teasing,” Christy said. “I'm serious, David. And you heard that snort of disapproval. It was Granny O'Teale, I've no doubt of it.”

“Could have been one of the hogs,” David pointed out. “Talk about your hog heaven. With all that mud, they were having a real party out there.”

Christy laughed. “Well, I've got more important things to worry about today, like figuring out how to get more organized with the children's lessons. To begin with, I thought about dividing them into grades, instead of this boys-on-one-side-of-the-room, girls-on-the-other nonsense.”

Ruby Mae looked up in alarm. “No'm, I can't sit by no boy!” she cried. “That ain't no courtin' school!”

“Of course it isn't,” Christy said reasonably. “But it just makes sense to seat children of the same level together, whether they're boys or girls.”

“Makes no sense a-tall!” Ruby Mae exclaimed.

David cast Christy a smile. “Seems you do have other things to worry about today,” he said.