The Coffin Quilt (10 page)

Read The Coffin Quilt Online

Authors: Ann Rinaldi

BOOK: The Coffin Quilt
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I sat on Clothilda, holding the petticoat reins, looking around, feeling as last time that eyes were watching me. I looked around for Yeller Thing, but all I saw at first were red-and-gold leaves, purple flowers, and pumpkins and squash in the garden.

And then I saw the people in the distance. Men. Lots of them at the far end of the road that led to the barn. Men eating at makeshift tables under the trees. And women serving them. I smelled the new timbered wood at the same time and saw it piled all around. Devil Anse was adding on to his barn and those must be his kin, helping.

My sister saw them at the same time, ran from the porch, down the lane, crying, "Help me, help me!"

"Child, what is it?" Mrs. Devil Anse, or Levicy, as they called her, came down the lane, heavy with child, to embrace my sister.

I turned my head away, jumped down from Clothilda, and went about the business of drawing a bucket of water from the well for her. No sooner did I have it up on the rim of the well than Robert E. Lee came around a corner of the house. He was so pale! His face almost as white as the hair that hung over his pale eyes.

"Howdy," he said.

I nodded and brought the water to Clothilda. I stood there while she drank it.

"Y'all got trouble?"

I shrugged. "My brother arrested yours."

"What for?"

"Seduction." I stared into his pale eyes. "I don't even know what that is, do you?"

He nodded slowly, understanding, but he didn't say.
"Y'all picked a good day fer a fight. My pa's got all his kin here. Guess I better fetch my gun." And he ran into the house.

A fight? What did he mean? Was that all these people ever paid mind to? Mrs. Devil Anse was coming toward me, her arm around Roseanna. She was clucking and hovering over Ro like she was her mother. She saw me then and held out her hand. "Child, child, come on into the house and I'll give you some warm milk and gingerbread and put some salve on those legs," she said. And just then Robert E. Lee came bounding out of the house, gun in hand.

"I'd as lief stay out here," I said.

"Fanny, you come along now. Don't be rude. Come on, I say!" Ro never ordered me around, and she really wasn't now. But she held out her hand to me and I couldn't refuse her. So I followed them into the house and allowed myself to be sat down at the table in the kitchen and drink warm milk and eat gingerbread without shame that it was Devil Anse's milk and gingerbread. I watched Mrs. Devil Anse put salve on Ro's scratches and a cold rag to her head, and heard my sister pour out her heart about the matter to this woman about whom I'd been told since I was a knee baby had horns on top of her head.

She didn't, of course. She was as nice as my ma, if not nicer. At least she didn't rant and rave about tribulation or the vengeance of the Lord. Or run outside to put a pebble by the name of Johnse on the side of the damned on a praying rock. She comforted Ro best as she could,
and when she was done made her he down on a couch nearby. Then she attended to me.

"I told him and told him," she said to Ro as she knelt and took each of my legs at a time and applied her decoction of salve, "to let you two wed. But no. I declare these men of ourn, they have a mournful need for war. And if there's no more Blue Bellies to shoot at, why they'll just make up some!"

I decided that I liked Levicy Hatfield. She had a round, pleasant face, her kitchen smelled good, her gingerbread was the best I ever tasted, and she had common sense. I was so torn with guilt about liking her I could scarce swallow.

A minute later, when the whole parcel of men rode out, she stepped out onto the porch and yelled, "Robert E. Lee, where you think you're going?"

I heard the reply, through the tramping of horses' feet as the men left, then I saw her go off the porch through the dust and grab the reins of the pony Robert E. Lee was riding.

"Ma!" he protested. "I'm huntin' McCoys!"

But she pulled him from the pony and dragged him by the ear into the house. "Thirteen years old," she said, "and a bigger vexation to me than any of them! The only thing you're hunting is rabbits! Now get out there and cut some wood for the stove!"

I liked her even better now. And my guilt vanished.

We sat awhile until Ro was rested. Levicy took off Ro's skirt and dried it by the fire. I sat and dried mine. I was getting worried again. I'd seen as many as forty men
ride off with Devil Arise to find my pa and Jim. When we got ready to leave, Ro saw my discomfort. "I won't tell Pa you were here with me," she promised.

I hugged her as we rode back to Aunt Betty's. "What if they ask?"

"Then you he to Pa. It's the only way to survive. Haven't you learned that yet?"

I was learning. The ride back wasn't half as bad, maybe because we took our time, and maybe because all I could think of was what would happen to Pa and Jim when all those Hatfields caught up with them. I was crazy with worry about it. But then, by the rime we got to Aunt Betty's, it was late. She wanted to give me supper, but I said no, I'd best get home.

"You all right, child?" she asked.

"All right as I can be in West Virginia," I said.

"What's the matter with you, Fanny?" Ro asked sharply. "You're back in Kentucky now, and you know it. If you're feverish I'll not let you go home, but stay the night."

I told them I was fine and started off. I knew I was in Kentucky all right. Did they think I was teched? But I also knew I was broken off from the family now, like West Virginia had broken from the Confederacy. I'd made my stand. And it was with my sister and against my family. I felt the break inside me already and knew it would mean trouble.

I suppose I was ready for it. A body had to be, if they made a stand. Wasn't my family always saying such? Only thing that plagued me was I still didn't know the meaning of the word
seduction.

Chapter Seventeen
FALL 1880

I
KNOW THINGS
about the family and I'm the youngest. Maybe I know them
because
I'm the youngest. And they said things to me and thought I wouldn't understand. Or I stood around the edges and watched and they paid me no nevermind. And when I tell them the things I know, they say those things never happened. And so the burden of the knowing is on me.

***

"I
T'S ABOUT TIME
you got home! Ma's been half crazy, what with Pa and Jim riding out looking for Johnse. Did they get him? Did they come to Aunt Betty's while you were there? What are those scratches on your legs? Look at her, Ma. She's all tore up." Alifair grabbed me soon's I walked in the door. Ma and the girls stood around looking at me. But it was Adelaide with her granny-woman ways who set out to ruin me.

"Her legs have been treated with salve." Adelaide picked up my dress. "Likely dock root and sweet cream."

I pushed her away. "You leave me be!"

Alifair grabbed my arm and shook me. "Leave you be? You deserve a switching for worrying Ma so. Who treated your legs?"

I looked at Ma for sympathy, but saw none. "After Pa and Jim came and took Johnse, Ro rode off on Aunt Betty's horse after them. And when she didn't come back Aunt Betty got worried and I went looking for her. Got caught in some briars. Aunt Betty treated me."

Lie to Pa and you lie to God. Now I was lying to Ma. Was it the same? More to the point, did she believe me? I didn't care about the others. I did care about Ma.

"It was good of Aunt Betty," she said after a long moment. "But I think you ought to have a bath and soak those legs before mortification sets in. Alifair, see to it."

If Ma wanted to punish me she couldn't have picked a better way. We bathed once a week, for Sunday Meeting, but now the old tub in the cellar was filled with hot water and Alifair scrubbed me. She did not do it softly, and the more I yelled, the harder she scrubbed.

"You've been up to something," she said. "You little sneak. Ma may believe it, but I don't. I've a mind to hold your head under until you tell. Only you'll go snitch and get yourself sent to Tolbert's again, where you get spoiled rotten. But afore this is done, I'll find what you've been about and you'll be whupped good for lying. Ma can't abide lying. You know that?"

Lucky for me we heard Pa come home just then, or
might be she'd have held my head under the water. But she wanted to hear what he had to say. I dried myself, put on my nightdress, and followed her upstairs. Pa stood in the kitchen, still looking like he'd fulfilled a prophecy from Isaiah.

"We were a-takin' Johnse to the county jail at Pikeville when they rode up. Forty of 'em. Hatfields. A-gunnin' for us. Devil Anse pointed that gun of his right at me. Would of fired it, too, if Johnse didn't knock it from his hands."

"Johnse saved your life?" Ma asked.

"How did they know to seek you out?" Leave it to Alifair to hop on that like a June bug.

"Johnse only did it 'cause of Jim," Pa answered Ma. "We thought they was McCoys comin' and Jim promised, as a man of the law, to protect Johnse no matter how many McCoys."

Only Pa would put such a meaning on it.

Ma started to talk again about how Johnse saved his life, but Alifair interrupted with her big mouth. "How did the Hatfields
know,
Pa? Somebody must have told 'em."

He stopped talking and stared at her. And his face took on a look like God's must have when He caught Adam eating the apple. "Ro!" he hollered. "Why didn't I think on it? My own daughter. Yer right, Alifair, Ro told 'em. By God, my own daughter!" And he set to pacing in the kitchen like a painter cat.

"Now Ranel, ye don't know it was Ro," Ma started.

"Don't know it? Who else, I ask? Who else even knew we were there?"

Silence, terrible silence in the kitchen. Alifair turned to me with a smile on her face. "Fanny," she asked sweetly, "you were there, child. I know you're plumb wore out from today, but you did say she rode off on Aunt Betty's horse, didn't you? And you went to fetch her home and got all those scratches on your legs? You should see her legs, Pa. The poor little thing's all covered with scratches."

Now all had their eyes on me again. I felt my poor scratched legs tremble. I clenched my fists and decided that someday I'd kill my sister Alifair. How, I didn't know, but I'd think of a way.

"Fanny?" Pa asked. "When your sister rode off, did she say where she was a-goin'?"

"No, Pa. She was just so all-fired scared for Johnse. I asked her, but no, she wouldn't say."

More lying. But he believed it.

Later I lay in the darkness of my room, terrified by the awfulness of what I'd done. I couldn't sleep for fear of it. Then, when the house got quiet, the door of my room opened and Alifair stood over my bed in her long, white nightdress.

"Come with me," she said.

"Where?"

"Never you mind. You just come."

I went, following her through the darkness of the house, out into the chilly night, fearstruck. What was she going to do to me now? Her nightdress fluttered in the chill autumn breeze, like some ghostly thing ahead of me. She held a candle but didn't light it. Hooty owls called. Old Blue started fussing, but Alifair hushed him.
I followed her to Ma's tree stump, where she stopped and lit the candle. In its yellow light her face looked down at me, firm and full of purpose.

"Take your pebble and put it on the side of the damned."

I stared up at her. "That's Ma's job. Not yourn."

"Do it, or I will tell them you were with Ro today when she warned the Hatfields."

"I wasn't!"

She reached out to slap me. I ducked, but her hand caught my ear and I started to yowl.

"Hush, or you'll get more! Do as I say with the pebble. Now!"

"What will Ma say when she sees it there?" I sobbed.

"She'll figure Jesus put it there and decide that's where it should be. Now do it." She held the candle over the pebbles. I found mine, the smallest one because I was the youngest.

"Now put it on the side of the damned."

I did so. Only one other was there now. Ro's.
So,
I thought,
for all her talk Ma still thinks Ro is damned.
In the eerie light cast on the tree stump, Ro's and my pebbles looked awful lonesome, while on the other side all the other family pebbles kept each other company.

"You're damned for your lie," Alifair whispered to me. "Your covenant with God is broken. Suppose Johnse hadn't knocked that gun out of his father's hand? Pa would be dead. And it would be on your head. Don't he anymore. Your sin will ride heavy on you and maybe even bring His wrath down on this house. Now go to bed and think on that."

I ran back to the house and to my room, where I jumped under the covers, all the time shivering. My sister was right, I was convinced of it. I'd betrayed my family. What if Johnse hadn't knocked the gun from his father's hand? I lay awake most of the night, tossing and turning, listening to the night wind and sounds outside my window. Once I smelled a skunk circling the house. And then I knew it wasn't a skunk. It was Yeller Thing, out there, waiting for me. Waiting to take me into the woods with him. Because he knew I deserved it.

I fell asleep just as the sky was turning gray in the east. I slept deeply. And then Alifair was standing over me again, this time fully dressed. "Fanny, get up. You've overslept."

My head ached like I had an ague. But I sat up. Sunlight hurt my eyes. I smelled coffee and frying ham.

She stood there with her hands on her hips. From the yard came loud voices. "The boys have sighted a visitor coming up the lane," she said with grim satisfaction. "Thought you'd want to be out there. You shouldn't miss this. It's Roseanna."

Numb with terror again, I got up and followed obediently.

Chapter Eighteen
FALL 1880

P
HARMER,
B
UD, AND
Bill were by the gate in the yard. Mama was at the doorstep. Adelaide and Trinvilla were in the kitchen garden in front. Ah frozen like some painting I'd seen in Bible lessons. Mama looked like Lot's wife standing there, like she was told not to look at Ro or she'd be turned into a pillar of salt. She wasn't looking. She was turned away, talking to Trinvilla about the beans in the garden.

Other books

Producer by Wendy Walker
Her Wilde Bodyguards by Chloe Lang
Willow Run by Patricia Reilly Giff
Necropolis by Anthony Horowitz
Blackening Song by Aimée & David Thurlo
Cassandra's Conflict by Fredrica Alleyn