Diary of a Wildflower (24 page)

Sunday, July 7, 1929

At
eight o’clock I am serving breakfast to Mrs. Myles and Roman.  I’m
surprised to see him up so early on a Sunday, but then I hear him telling his
mother he is going to play golf with Luke Wayne.

“Remind
Luke about the charity ball on Saturday,” Mrs. Myles says.  “Angel’s
mother is playing hostess with me.  It will be a ritzy affair.”

“Lorie,”
Louise whispers in my ear.  “Bridget needs you in the kitchen.  Ellie
will look after the table.”

I
find Bridget with three baskets full of fresh black raspberries.

“Jeff
and Brett were up early picking these before the heat of day,” she says.

“They
look delicious.”

“I’m
sure they are,” Bridget agrees, “but Mrs. Myles has guests coming for dinner,
and I don’t have time to mess with berries.  They won’t save for long.”

“That’s
true,” I say.  “They will soon go mushy in this temperature.”

“I
heard you say one day that you used to make preserves and jams out there on
that mountain.”

“Yes. 
Do you want me to do something with the berries?”

“Oh,
would you, child?” she says, seeming greatly relieved.  “That will free me
up for dinner preparations.  The missus has ordered fresh seafood from
Norfolk.”

“Do
you want jam or preserves?” I ask.

“The
boys like jam the best,” she says.  “Save out some of the prettiest
berries for dinner dessert.”

I
begin by picking out the debris, and washing the fruit gently.

He
he is with her.  He is with her.

I
have the sudden sense that somebody is watching me.  I turn and find Roman
standing in the doorway near me.

“Smile
for me, kitten,” he says.  “You look so intense.”

“Hello,
Roman.”

He
comes to stand beside me, eats a couple of berries, and says, “When is your
next day off?”

“Friday.”

“That’s
a great night to put on your glad rags and visit a juice joint,” he says. 
“The excuse that you can’t dance won’t work anymore.  You were the
liveliest spark at Father’s party.”

I
continue with my work.

“What
about it?” he persists.  “A little hooch and a lot of dancing?  We
might even take in a gourmet dinner.”

“I
don’t think so, Roman,” I say.

“And
why not?  Do you have other plans?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh,
you do?” he says in a rather sarcastic tone.  “Anybody I know?”

I
don’t answer.

“Is
it Luke Wayne?”

“Aren’t
you supposed to be on your way to meet him?” I ask.

“Yes,
but first I want an answer from you.”

“I
gave you an answer, Roman.”

“Lorie!”
Bridget calls suddenly.

“Yes
ma’am?”  I turn to her, wiping my hands on my apron.

“Oh,
excuse me, Mr. Roman,” Bridget says, as she comes to my side.  “I don’t
mean to interrupt, but Mrs. Myles wants to see Lorie in the library
immediately.  It’s important.”

“By
all means,” Roman says.  “When Mother calls, we all snap to it, don’t we?”

In
the library Mrs. Myles is sitting at her desk.  When I walk in, she stands
up and hands a yellow envelope to me.

“Lorie,
this just arrived for you.  I hope it isn’t bad news.”

It’s
a telegram.  I rip it open and find it’s from Caroline.  Samuel is
critically ill and wants to see me.  She will be looking for me on the
nine p.m. train in Granger.

“Oh..hh,”
is all I can say.

“You
look pale, my dear,” Mrs. Myles says kindly.  “Please sit down.”

She
comes over to guide me to the sofa where Brody sat the first time I saw
him.  I hand the telegram to her.

“I’m
terribly sorry,” Mrs. Myles says when she has read it.  “Is Samuel a
brother?”

“Yes
ma’am.”

“Then
you must leave right away,” she says.  “I will call the station for you
and see which train you need to get there at nine.”

“Thank
you.”

“You
must stay as long as you are needed, and not worry about anything here.  I
will call Delia or Marge to fill in, but your job will be waiting for you when
you return.  Do you need money?  Train fare perhaps?”

“No,
ma’am.  I have money.” 

“Chris
will take you to the station.”

And
so it is that I find myself, thirty minutes later, distraught and thoroughly
discombobulated, riding in the Model A into Charlottesville with Chris. 
Mrs. Myles has asked him to rush, for my train will be leaving soon.

“Sorry
about your brother,” Chris says as he speeds toward town.  “And I’m sorry
for what I said to you the other day.”

“What?”

“The
things I said about you and Mr. Brody.  I was out of line.”

“Oh,
that,” I say.  “Forget it.”

I
can’t think of anything but Samuel right now.  I keep seeing him on Gospel
Road as we said goodbye, with his arm around Jewel – crying.

The
“all aboard” is sounding as we reach the station platform, and I am in a
panic.  I am forced to run, and Chris runs alongside me, carrying my
carpet bag.  I jump onto the train as it begins to move.  Chris
shoves the bag into my hands, and I’m on my way.

“Thank
you, Chris!” I call out to him, as the train leaves the station.  He waves
to me.

Darkness
has fallen by the time the train’s whistle echoes through the hollows of the
hills, and we come to a noisy stop in Granger.  Caroline and Jewel are
waiting for me.  We can only hug each other, too emotional to speak.

Then
they tell me about Samuel.  He’s in the new Granger Hospital, a short
distance from the train station.  He is very weak, they say, and does not
look well at all.  He goes in and out of consciousness.

We
walk to the hospital, where we find Dr. Wayne in Samuel’s room.  To ease
his struggle for air, Samuel has been placed in a new-fangled apparatus called
an oxygen tent.  It’s made of a filmy transparent material, and surrounds
his upper body.  Pure oxygen is pumped into the tent.  Samuel’s eyes
are closed.

Caroline
touches his hand and says, “Look who’s here.”

He
opens his eyes and smiles when he sees me.  He squeezes my hand.  For
his sake I manage not to cry.  The tent is momentarily clipped aside so
that Samuel can communicate with

us.  He is able to speak only a few words between
pauses for breath.

“Is
the lucky fella…with you?” he asks me.

I
shake my head.  “There’s no fella.”

“Don’t
believe it,” he says.  “I read between…the lines.”

More
hugging follows as Trula and Mack enter the room.  Then we all gather
around Samuel, touching him, speaking softly.  He tries to sit up, but
doesn’t quite make it.

“Take
it easy,” Dr. Wayne says to him and starts to put the oxygen tent back into
place.

Samuel
raises his hand to push it away.  “Something….to say.”  He motions
Caroline to come closer.  She leans over him, and he takes her hand. 
“You are…the love…of my life,” he whispers.

“I
love you too, Samuel.”

This
inspires us all to say it.  I love you.  I love you.  I love
you.  We have never said it enough.

Samuel
falls back onto his pillow, exhausted, and Dr. Wayne quickly replaces the
tent.  He closes his eyes and says no more.  The rest of us are
quiet, as we huddle around him.  He doesn’t open his eyes again. 
Near midnight my Samuel, who has been father, mother and brother to me, is no
longer in my life at all.

In
the wee hours Mack and Trula drive me, Jewel and Caroline up Gospel Road. 
Caroline has a flashlight to guide us the rest of the way to Uncle Green’s old
home place where she now lives.  Jewel and I spend what’s left of the
night with her, because it’s easier than walking on home in the dark, to wake
everybody and tell them the bad news at this hour.  It can wait until
morning.  In Caroline’s extra bed I hold Jewel while she cries.  When
she is asleep, I lie awake and remember a long-ago day in August – the very day
Jewel was born.

He
lifts me to his shoulders where I can see all the pretty world. 

Monday, July 8
^th
, 1929

Jewel
and I rise early, dress quietly, and slip away without disturbing
Caroline.  We walk to the log house, where Bea and my brothers welcome
me.  Lawrence is all over me.

“Lorie! 
Lorie!  Kissy, kissy!”

“Oh,
I missed you too, doodle bug!” 

But
Dad still will not speak to me.  Even after we have given him the bad
news, he just grumbles and walks out to the barn by himself.  Bea makes
breakfast, and as we eat, Charles, who is now sixteen and works for Luther at
the Watkins sawmill, tells me he has a girlfriend from Cole Hollow.  Her
name is Lucy, a little sister to the Cole twins who graduated highschool with
me.  I ask him to go with us into Granger to make arrangements for the
funeral.  He is pleased to be asked.

We
meet Mack, Trula and Caroline on Gospel Road.  Charles and Trula have not
seen each other since he was seven.  They embrace, and Trula sheds a few
tears.

“Look
how tall you are,” she says.  “You were just a little thing…back then.”

“I
remember you rocking me to sleep,” he says a bit shyly.

Mack
drops me and Charles off at Luther and Sally’s house to tell them about Samuel,
but the news has already spread.  Everybody knows.  We spend a few
moments with Madge and Christine, who are four and five years old now, before
Mack drives us on to Call’s to send a telegram to Nell.  Mrs. Call is
actually helping me until she looks out the window where Mack is waiting in the
car with Trula beside him.  Then she slams a catalog angrily against the
countertop, turns her back to me, and walks off.  Mr. Call helps me finish
the telegram.

In
Granger Trula picks out a beautiful coffin, and Mack pays for it even though
they will not be coming to the funeral.

As
we part, Charles shakes Mack’s hand, and kisses Trula on the cheek.  “I’m
gonna bring my girl over to see you,” he says.  “Dad don’t need to know
about it.”

When
we return home, the old patterns begin to fall into place again, and I feel a
heaviness in my soul.  If I am gone for five weeks or fifty years, nothing
ever changes here.  Meals must appear on the table three times a day, the
children must be tended, the cows milked, the garden weeded, the eggs
collected, the animals fed, the water drawn, floors scrubbed, clothes laundered
– even when your heart is breaking.

Tuesday, July 9
^th
, 1929

Mid-morning
our kin start arriving with food and flowers and sympathy.  Aunt Sue comes
with fried chicken and potato salad.  Aunt Laura and Aunt Clara come with
a ham, a pot of green beans and two black raspberry pies.  That’s when I
remember that I didn’t finish the jam Bridget asked me to make.  Oh, well,
I’m sure Marge or Delia knows how to make jam.

In
the afternoon I slip away and go to Call’s to send a note to Mrs. Myles. 
I tell her about Samuel, and that I will be staying for a few days.  I
will give her specifics later regarding the date of my return.  I estimate
the letter will be in Mrs. Myles’s hands in two days, three at most.  I’m
sure she will share the news, so Brody will know what has happened and where I
am.

At
the store I find a telegram has arrived from Nell.  She will try to make
it for the funeral, but she may be late.  She doesn’t know how late, so we
shouldn’t alter any plans for her.

Back
at the house, I walk to the Starr graveyard to look at the stones.  I
whisper the names of those long-ago women who lived and died on this
mountain.  “Eunice.  Olive.  Nancy.  Cornelia. 
Ruby.”  I don’t have to imagine what their lives were like.  Each one
did what her mother did before her, and what her grandmother did before that,
and on and on.  They didn’t know how to break the cycle.

The
sun is relentless, and I rest in the shade beneath a maple tree.  Jewel
appears and sits beside me.  As I place an arm around her, the awful
realization comes to me that when I go back to Charlottesville, most of the
woman’s work will fall on these thin shoulders.  Bea will not ease her
burden as Samuel did.

“I
know you will miss him terribly,” I say to her.

“I
miss you more than anybody, Lorie,” she says.  “You make me feel safe.”

“Safe? 
What do you mean?”

“Oh,
nothing.  It’s just that Dad is, well, you know, he’s….addled.”

“You
wrote that he was doing strange things,” I say.  “What kind of strange
things?”