Bent Creek (2 page)

Somewhere around the age of seven or eight she began to realize just how poor she really was. With never enough to eat and homemade clothes to wear she began to take notice of everything around her. Life began to sour around the edges when she got her first glimpse of a Sears-Roebuck catalog.  All the clothes and toys jumped out of the pages at her.  There was not one feed sack dress in the whole book.  She did not even have the five cents it would take to buy a blue ribbon for her hair. She wondered what it would be like to wear shoes that fit and had no holes in them.

Embarrassment began to set in when the mine superin
tendent brought his family to Bent Creek on Christmas Eve to deliver gift baskets. Rachael watched the smirk on his daughter’s face as Rachael tried to eat her first banana without peeling it. Rachael looked at the girl’s clothes, a brown wool coat with not a button missing and boots made of soft leather. Envy was now another part of Rachael’s world.

Rachael had a way of challenging what people said, even going so far as to confront her daddy.  With the Sears-Roebuck catalog laying open on the kitchen table, she shared the precious book with Emma Jane. The girls would ooh and aah over the book. When her father pointed his dirty finger at her and told her to get all the fancy ideas out of her head and just accept her lot in life she really didn’t want to believe him. “It is what it is, Girl, so you might as well git used to it.”

Rachael stood up, her hands on her hips and said, “And what is it really?  Thars a whole world outside of Bent Creek and by gosh, I intend tah see some of it.”  That remark earned her a slap across her face.

Rachael liked going to school, which really seemed odd to most of the children. It was only a one-room schoolhouse with a raw, wooden floor and a wood stove for heat in the win
ter.  The smaller children were placed at two square tables, while four rows of desks held the rest of the students.  Usually most of the rows were empty. Rachael always sat in front so that when her teacher, Mr. Childs, conducted the lessons, she wouldn’t miss anything. She was a star pupil and the only one to cry when the school closed.

If it weren’t for the occasional visit from the state tru
ant officer most of the children in the hollow would never go to school. Missing school for weeks at a time they would only return to the classroom when they were forced to.  The majority of the boys quit by the time they were fourteen to go to work.

Her vision of her world was altered when she read books about the big cities across the country. When she read about Florida she decided that is where she wanted to live. The information in her schoolbooks fortified her notion that there was something big and wonderful out there, and it wasn’t Bent Creek.

In fourth grade when she read her writing essay aloud before the class, they snickered and giggled.  Who was this stupid girl who thought she would move to Florida and grow oranges in her back yard and pick seashells off the beach? On the way home from school Sammy Joe and some of the other boys from school chased her and yelled after her,  “Yer plumb out of yer head, Rachael Riley.”

She stopped and faced them.  “I’m not crazy! Yer crazy, Sammy Joe Montgomery. You and yer bunch of back
woods hillbillies who can’t see further than the tip of yer noses. You ain’t got no couth. I reckon ya’ll grow up and work in the mines jest like yer fathers. Ya’ll either be dead or have a case of black lung by the time yer thirty and probably have a bunch of snot nose kids. This dirty town will be yer home till you die.” For a moment there was silence and then they began to laugh.

“Go on run home, Rachael Roach,” Sammy Joe yelled.

“You too, monkey ears,” she yelled back.

Rachael didn’t want to grow old never leaving Bent Creek. She didn’t want to be a hollow-eyed woman with a sad face like her mother and settle for a man with coal embedded under his fingernails and no teeth like her father.  That is not what she wanted for herself.  She wanted to be anywhere except in Harlan County, Kentucky. She wanted to live in Florida.

At dinner that evening, Paul told his father about Rachael’s paper and that all of the kids were making fun of her. Roy put down his spoon and looked at his daughter, “That true, Rachael? You making up that stupid stuff again?”

“It’s not stupid. Why does everybody think it’s stupid? I read it in a book. People can leave here, you know. They have before and maybe some of them went to Florida.”

“Yeah, and some come back in worse shape than when they left. You best be writin’ bout somethin’ you know fer sure,” her father answered.

“What about you, Momma, wouldn’t you like to go tah Florida? It’s warm all the time. We could make necklaces out of shells.”

“You hush, Rachael. Don’t argy with yer daddy.  Eat yer supper and stop that crazy talk.”

Later that evening Rachael sat on the porch with her mother mending socks. “I’m not crazy, Momma.  I know ya’ll think I am, but I’m not. Haven’t you ever wanted somethin’ better fer yerself? Wouldn’t it be fun to put on a nice dress and go into Lynch? Maybe have dinner in one of them fancy restaurants like Wendy’s and then go tah the picture show. That’s what I’m gonna do when I grow up.”

“I suppose at one time I thought about it,” Ida Mae said, breaking the thread with her teeth.  “But then I got married and I had more to think about than picture shows.  I had to worry about keepin’ you kids fed and prayin’ you didn’t get sick.  I reckon all them idees left mah head.  I jest don’t want you tah be sad when those things don’t happen, Rachael. You jest got tah trust in the
Lord tah make thangs right fer yah.  If’n it twern’t fer goin tah church every Sunday and readin’ mah bible every night I’d be a lost soul.”

“Don’t seem like the Lord is answerin’ many of yer prayers, Momma
. I guess I’m gonna make them happen mahself. You jest wait and see.”

When the announcement was made that the school was closing and the students would be reassigned to a school in Lynch everyone knew that the children from Bent Creek had just finished the little education they had.  None of the families in the hollow were going to travel over twenty miles twice a day to take their kids to school even if they did have to argue with the truant officer.

After Mr. Childs made the announcement on a Friday afternoon, his remark was met with a war whoop from the boys. Laughing and clapping
, the children tumbled out the door and headed for home, all except one.  Rachael sat at her desk with her head down and cried.  “I jest can’t believe that the government don’t care if we git an education.  We jest don’t count, do we, Mr. Childs?”

“I don’t know if that’s true, Rachael.  It’s just that the county can’t afford to pay my salary and keep the school open when half the time the children aren’t here anyway.  You’re a bright girl and my best student and I am sorry that this had to happen to you. Do you think there is anyway your family can let you go to school in Lynch?”

“Shoot, no. They ain’t gonna let me go anywhere cept out back to hang up clothes.”

Mr. Childs sat down on the desk next to her.  “I’m sorry to hear that but I hope you keep up with your studies.  Life really doesn’t much care what happens to us, Rachael.  We have to make it happen on our own. You remember that. Now I have to lock up. You best better run on home.”

She didn’t run. She walked as slow as she could and cried all the way.

After the school closed, one day became just like the next. It was always work, work, and more work.  There was never time for fun. She was always being told what to do, getting reprimanded or even worse—getting hit for doing her chores wrong. The way she was treated didn’t make Rachael feel too good about her parents. She wondered if they really loved her. It was quite evident that her father was partial to the boys and Emma Jane was clearly her mother’s favorite. Emma Jane liked to hang on her momma and follow her around.

Rachael tried to believe that her favorite pecan pie her mother made on Sundays or the apples she let the children eat off the tree was her way of showing love.  There were no hugs or kisses or special moments to share with her parents.  At times when her mother sat mending the already tattered clothing she had to wear, Rachael could see the far away look in her eyes. She was afraid to ask her mother what she was dreaming about. Yet in the winter when the wind blew through the cracks in the cabin and the temperature dipped below freezing, her mother would rise at night and put large stones on the only wood stove in the house. Wrapping them in old material she would place them on her children’s feet to keep their toes warm.  Sometimes she would stroke Rachael’s hair, but no words came from her mouth.

When they were alone, Rachael’s curiosity was a sense of irritation to her mother. She didn’t like answering questions about herself. All Rachael knew about her family is that her mother was orphaned at an early age and was raised by an elderly aunt. Everyone said that Grandpa Abe, her father’s pal was a crazy old man. Rachael worried that she took after him when people called her crazy.

Sometimes at night, when the house was dark and everyone was in bed, Rachael would lie awake staring out the window. She wondered what her momma was thinkin’.  Was she worried about her children or still wrapped up in her own woes. Thinkin’ she shouldn’t have gotten married so young and had so many babies. Thinkin’ maybe she should be nicer to her kids and maybe sing with them or play games.  Maybe even hug them once in a while and tell them she loved them. That’s what you should do when you have kids. And her daddy… was he frettin’ about how he was going to feed all his youngins or how they were gonna get tah school or if they would be able to have shoes to wear when winter came.  He should be thinkin’ about those things instead of sittin’ around doin’ nothin’.  No, they were probably both jest tired and not thinkin’ much about anything.

Chapter Three

The years passed, one just like the other, eating away at Rachael’s life. Willie, Paul and Ben went to work in the mines as each one turned fifteen. At fourteen, Rachael took a full-time job in Bent Creek working at the Sampler Dry Goods Store. She swept the floors and kept the bolts of material in order. At times she waited on the customers. Even though it was almost a two-mile walk to the store, she did not care.  Every Friday she was handed an envelope that contained her two-dollar paycheck. She would hand it to her father and he would give her back fifty cents to spend. She wished she could keep more, but she was glad that she could help the family. She wondered why he never told her thanks.

With the added income from the four children working, life was better for the family. Ida Mae could buy more flour and sugar to make biscuits and Emma Jane and Rachael each got a store-
bought coat and a real blanket for their beds.  The mining company agreed to let the miners run electric lines from the
coalmine to the hollow. The Riley’s had lights!  No more foul smelling kerosene lamps or candles on the table.  They had lights! And the most wonderful thing that happened was when Rachael’s father brought home a radio.  It became the center of the house. Each night the programs would start at six o’clock. Everyone would gather around the brown box and listen to country music programs and serial stories.  Rachael was enthralled by the radio. She couldn’t get enough of the outside world, but promptly at eight the radio and the lights were turned off and everyone had to go to bed.

When the last of the spring rains passed and the warm summer days lingered on until eight o’clock, Rachael’s parents would gather with some of the other folks who lived in the hollow for a front-porch party. Most of the junk would be cleared from the yard and candles set out to keep the bugs away.  The women would make pies and fresh berries covered in sugar and the men would bring the moonshine.  The music came from all sources—a set of spoons, a washboard and a prized fiddle owned by one of the men from the mine. Roy played the banjo with one string missing that he had gotten from his father. The children would run around the yard playing games. It was a short time that took the edge off of everyday living. The liquor flowed as easy as the music and after a few rounds of foot stompin’, Rachael’s daddy would grab Ida Mae by the arm and pull her out into the yard, which had become a makeshift dance floor. He would swing her around until the pins would fall out of her hair and the strands of dark-brown hair would twirl with each turn. Her momma would laugh out loud, something she rarely did.

Breathless, her face aglow with a rosy tint, they would return to the porch and sit next to each other.  Rachael liked to see her mother happy.

“She ain’t a bad dancer fer an old woman, is she, Rachael?” her father asked, as Ida Mae began to blush.

“Why do you call her an old woman, Daddy, she ain’t but in her early thirties. Old women are fifty years old or more. Look at her. Momma is real purty with her hair down.”

Roy turned Ida Mae’s face to him.  “Dawg gone, yer right. She’s jest as purty as the day I married her.  I reckon that’s why we had so many of you youngins’.  It’s still hard to keep mah hands off her.”

“Roy Riley, you stop that,” Ida Mae said.  “Don’t be tellin’ Rachael bout things she don’t need tah know yet.”