Halley (3 page)

Kate and Ma Franklin came out on the porch, and, though she knew it was hopeless, Halley turned to her mother. Kate looked sorrowful, but her arms were folded across her chest in a desperate hug. “You must obey,” she said at last.

Pa Franklin turned on Gid. “And where was you when all this was a-happening?”

“Gid didn’t know anything about it,” Halley replied before Gid could defend himself. “He didn’t hear you say Buck couldn’t come, and he didn’t know when Buck jumped on the wagon.”

“Right there is the trouble,” said Pa Franklin. “Gid never knows or hears anything he’s
supposed
to know or hear.”

“Now, Pa,” Ralph began in a peacemaking tone, “no big harm done.”

Pa Franklin ignored him.

Gid didn’t appear to be taking his father’s words too seriously. Calmly, he began to untie the ropes that held all the furniture and household goods in place on the wagon.

This seemed to fan Pa Franklin’s wrath. “If Gid would get his mind on something other than loose women and running to dances,” Pa Franklin continued, “he might be able to do what he’s supposed to do once in a while! For one example, right now he needs to pull this wagon around to the back porch before he gets ready to untie ropes.”

Gid began humming under his breath.

“Tie the dog up, Gid,” Pa Franklin said, “and when the furniture is in and set up, you can take him off and get shut of him.” When Gid did not instantly obey, he added, “Or I can get my shotgun and take care of it here and now.”

Gid moved to take the dog from Robbie. Halley held her sobbing brother while Buck was forced from his arms.

“We don’t allow no fits to be pitched around here,” said Pa Franklin, striding toward Robbie, one hand fumbling with his belt.

Ralph moved faster and took Robbie from Halley. “I’ll handle this, Pa,” he said.

Halley ran after Gid. She caught him at the barn where he was tying Buck in an empty stall. “What are you going to do with Buck?”

“You don’t want to know,” he replied.

Buck gave out a mournful howl.

“Can’t you find somebody who’d give him a home?”

Gid snorted. “Not lessen we can call down a miracle and change him into the best hunting dog in the country. Trouble is, people that want dogs already got dogs. And them people don’t want another’n to feed. Most folks hereabout barely got food enough for their family these days.”

“Maybe Ralph,” Halley suggested.

“Not a chance. His wife hates dogs.”

“How about Bootsie? She liked Buck when she saw him while ago.”

Gid didn’t answer, but she saw his eyes flash at Bootsie’s name. He pushed the stall door shut and secured it with wire.

Halley persisted. “You know where Bootsie lives?”

Gid nodded.

“Gid,” called Pa Franklin from the house, “quit dragging your tail and get back here. Ralph has pulled the wagon up to the far room. He can’t unload by hisself.”

“Coming,” Gid answered. To Halley, he said, “Won’t hurt to ask Bootsie. It’s a good excuse to go see her.”

With that Halley had to be satisfied.

3. The Calvins

Halley, Robbie, and Kate were soon settled into the far room. The room had been empty since the older Franklin children had moved away. Robbie’s small cot was in one corner, and Halley shared a full-size bed with her mother. What few of their household possessions Pa Franklin had not sold were in the room, but it seemed bare and ugly when Halley opened her eyes the morning after their first night under the Franklin roof.

At first, she did not know what had wakened her. Then she realized that a kerosene lamp was lit in one corner of the room, and Kate was kneeling nearby, praying softly. It scared Halley to see her mother so absorbed in trying to get to heaven, when Halley and Robbie needed her so much in this world.

Even as she watched, Kate stood and smoothed her dress and apron. “Halley,” she called. “Gid has probably finished milking. Hurry and take the fresh milk to the spring and bring last night’s for breakfast.”

Kate shook Robbie. “Out of bed. Your job is to fill the wood box. Step lively, both of you. I don’t want Pa saying we’re not pulling our weight.”

“He’ll say that anyway,” Halley answered.

Halley got up. Stepping out of the lamplight, into the shadows, she shucked her gown, found her clothes from yesterday and pulled them on. She was in a hurry to catch Gid while he was alone in the barn. He had left with Buck right after supper last night, and, much to Pa Franklin’s chagrin, had not returned at bedtime.

Pulling her box of books from under the bed, Halley felt underneath the stacks until she found the diary from Dimple. From her bosom, she pulled the ribbon with the key on the end and unlocked the clasp. Running her hand into the partially opened box, she felt the folded bills and coins that, with Claude and Clyde’s money gift, added up to seventy dollars and seventy-five cents. If Kate knew about the money from Jim’s brothers, Pa Franklin would know, and if he knew, he would take it. Halley didn’t intend that to happen. That money, plus her ginseng earnings, was all the Owenby family had.

Halley’s fingers found three quarters among the coins. Closing the box, she locked it and put the quarters in her pocket. The key she returned to her bosom. She made sure to put the diary underneath a stack of books before sliding the box back under the bed.

“What you doing?” asked Robbie in a sleepy voice.

“Just putting my night clothes away,” she said and laid her folded nightgown on top of the books. “You better get up now.”

Gid was tossing hay down to the mules when Halley entered the barn a few minutes later. It was still so dark that she could hardly see him moving about up in the loft. She could smell the musty, dusty smell of hay, though, and hear the swishy thunks it made when it landed in the feed bins. Gid was whistling—a good sign, she thought.

“Morning, Gid,” Halley called. “Did you see Bootsie last night?”

“Sure did.”

“What did she say?”

“Said I was the sweetest boy she knowed.”

Halley grunted impatiently. “You know what I mean! What did she say about . . .” She paused to look around quickly, and saw Goliath skulking behind her with suspicious eyes. “What did she say about Buck?”

“Said no.”

“I’ve got a little money to go toward feed if you think that’d change her mind,” Halley quickly offered, fingering the quarters in her pocket.

“Let me finish,” said Gid. “Bootsie’s sister come out on the porch and seen Buck do his tricks. She took on about the way he could set up and beg. Then she said her husband Tom’s been looking for a railroad dog ever since his old one died.”

“Railroad dog?” Halley had never heard of such.

“Some of the railroad people keep a pet that makes all the runs with ’em. Mostly it’s dogs but she said Tom’d heard tell of one railroad
cat
.”

“And the railroad bosses allow it?”

Gid laughed. “I spect the higher ups don’t even know about it. So if Tom takes a shine to ’im, old Buck would get to travel the country right there in the train cab, and he’d eat whatever the workers eat. He’d have his living
made
. Can you beat that?”

Halley let out a happy sigh. At least the family dog might get a happy ending. “Thank you, Gid,” she said and ran to get the milk.

Breakfast was skimpy—biscuits, gravy, and coffee or milk for everyone. In addition to this, Gid and Pa Franklin each had an egg and two thin slices of fried salt pork.

“We’re working,” Pa Franklin explained when he saw Robbie’s eyes on his plate. “When you’re doing a man’s work, you’ll get fed like a man.”

Robbie did not complain. His spirits were high since Halley had passed on the possible good news about Buck. Though she had warned against counting on it, Robbie had soon convinced himself that Buck was born to be a railroad dog.

As he ate, Pa Franklin laid out the day’s work. “We’re going to pull corn in the south field,” he said to Gid, “and we’ve got to fix that buggy wheel too.”

“Good,” said Gid. “I’ll need it fixed for Saturday by dinner, when I aim to quit work.”

“I ain’t fixing that buggy so’s you can loafer all over the country while work here goes undone.”

“I’m twenty, Pa. Plenty old enough to court girls.”

“Run with sorry girls, you mean, like that Hawkins girl. Ain’t no decent girls hanging around them dances you go to. You going to have to build you a shed back behind the house and do your own cooking and washing if’n you fool around and catch a bad disease.”

Robbie put down his fork. “What’s a bad disease?”

“Eat and keep quiet,” Kate said.

“We seen Luke Calvin and his family yesterday in Belton,” Pa Franklin said after a while.

“Him and all them fine-looking daughters of his’n,” said Ma Franklin. “That Clarice is pretty as a picture.”

Gid rolled his eyes. “Do tell.”

“Luke says Old Man Samson is about to have his first cotton come in,” Pa Franklin continued. “Kate, I told Luke that you and the young’uns would hire on along with me.”

“Very well, Pa,” said Kate.

Pa Franklin turned stern eyes on Halley and Robbie. “Ever’body’s got to earn their keep. These are hard times.”

“Especially in this house,” said Gid.

Pa Franklin looked at Kate. “Bernice Mitman can help you get on at the mill. You go see her, and she’d learn you what she knows about being a weaver.”

“Yes, sir,” Kate said.

Halley’s heart sank. Mama working in that dangerous place!

Catching his father’s eye averted, Gid sandwiched a slice of his pork into a biscuit and slipped it onto Robbie’s plate. He put a finger to his lips and grinned.

Ma Franklin was watching the entire time and Halley feared she’d tell, but she remained silent.

Pa Franklin took a drink of coffee and frowned at Kate. “You must’ve made this coffee. It’s weak as cat piss.”

“Mama don’t allow us to use that word,” Robbie said, turning to his mother for support.

“Not a thing wrong with calling a thing what it is,” Pa Franklin said. “And quit talking with your mouth full.”

“I was trying to be saving with coffee,” Kate said. “It’s thirty-eight cents a pound.”

“Save somewhere else,” he replied. “I can’t abide weak coffee.”

There was a silence for a few minutes, and then Ma Franklin smiled across the table at Gid. “Since you’re bound and determined to loafer on Saturday, I tell you where you can go in that buggy. Miz Calvin told us yesterday that her high faluting sister in Atlanta sent a big box of hand-me-downs, and she said Kate’s young’uns could help their selves. You could go over there and set a spell and then fetch the clothes.”

“Forget it, Ma,” said Gid. “I done told you to quit trying to match me up with one of them Calvin girls.”

Ma Franklin bristled. “There’s not a thing wrong with them girls!”

Gid downed the last of his coffee and pushed away from the table. “I didn’t say there was, but I ain’t interested. Let Halley and Robbie go. The clothes are for them.”

In the silence that followed, Halley tried to recall the Calvin girls. She must have seen them when her family visited the Franklins and attended their church. Only a vague memory came to her.

Kate spoke. “Halley, reckon you and Robbie need to go see about the clothes today. But you better draw several tubs of water before you go. The wash needs to be done.”

As soon as the breakfast dishes were finished and the water drawn, Halley and Robbie set out for the Calvin house. They were loaded down with gifts from Ma Franklin—two jars of blackberry preserves, two jars of honey, and the last of the fresh tomatoes.

Halley set a brisk pace past the pasture and the orchard, but when they reached the main road and were out of sight, she slowed. The faster they walked, the sooner they would be back. They sidetracked into several of the cotton fields they came to and looked at the worms crawling on the cotton leaves. They searched for wild muscadines in the woods just long enough for Robbie to drop a jar of honey and break it. Then they had to stop at the creek so he could wash his feet and hands.

Soon after they left the creek a car came around the bend. Halley recognized it at once. It was Bootsie and Stan. Bootsie was snuggled right up by Stan’s side and when they slowed for the curve she yelled, “Hey, Halley, Robbie.”

Halley waved. It felt like Bootsie had moved on into a different world—a more dangerous world, where the rules were not clear. Halley wondered how Bootsie could trust Stan so much. I guess she’s a better person than me, Halley thought.

They came to Hopewell Baptist Church. Halley would have known it was her grandfather’s church even if she hadn’t been visiting it all her life. The cutoff to the church and the cemetery was dotted with crosses and signs. Every tree had at least one Jesus message. Some had two or three. Wooden crosses marked some of the graves too—those without stone markers.

“You want to go in and play the piano?” she asked Robbie.

Robbie nodded eagerly.

They entered the silence of the church. It was even smaller than the Ebenezer Church in Alpha Springs. Halley sat on the first bench and listened to Robbie play “Amazing Grace.”

“This old piano needs tuning worse than ours,” he said.

Halley was mystified. It was as if he could understand a language she didn’t, even though he was eight years younger. “How can you tell?” she asked.

“Can’t you hear it?” He plunked several notes to show her.

Halley shook her head, remembering her grandfather’s words about her lack of talent. Getting up, she went out to look at the graveyard.

Nobody she knew personally was buried there, but she found the graves of the two children Ma and Pa Franklin had lost in infancy long before Halley was born. The two small graves were outlined with rocks, and looked like the graves of the Owenby babies, except each had a small stone marker.

A new grave off to the edge reminded her of her father’s grave in Alpha Springs. The mound of raw earth still had a few wilted flowers on it. Like her father’s grave, it had no stone. Someday perhaps no one would know who was buried there.

Suddenly it seemed very important to mark her father’s grave—to let the world know he had lived, and that living people missed him. She probably had enough to pay for a stone, but she couldn’t buy it secretly, and if Pa Franklin discovered she had money, he would take it before she could ever buy a stone. She had to find another way.

Halley was still thinking about the stone when they left the churchyard. But when they reached the Calvin house a short while later, such thoughts were driven away. The house was big, with porches wrapping around three sides. It had a sparkling cheerfulness about it too. It wasn’t just the paint. The yard was dotted with flower beds. Cactus plants were set up on posts, probably to keep children away from the prickly spines.

There were rope swings hanging from trees and a big swing on the front porch. There was a playhouse off to one side with its own little porch and windows. Halley couldn’t imagine Pa Franklin taking the money, time, or effort to build something like this for his children or grandchildren.

Three girls, the youngest around Halley’s age, met them on the porch. They were all plump and pretty blondes. Dimple would have died of envy if she could have seen their bosoms.

“I’m Clarice,” the tallest one said. “And these are my sisters, Eva and Lacey.” She turned to her sisters. “See, I told you Halley was pretty like her mother. I recollected that from when they come to our church.”

Halley blushed. She wasn’t accustomed to being called pretty, because she wasn’t. Mainly people noticed how strong and healthy she was, or what a hard worker, or how smart she was in books. “I don’t favor my mother,” she said. “I’m more like my father.”

Mrs. Calvin came out, and Robbie gave her the remaining jar of honey and then ran off to play with the Calvin boys, who had come from behind the house.

“Dooley, Steve!” Lacey called after them. “Show Robbie the new puppies.”

“There were supposed to be two jars of honey,” Halley said when she presented the preserves and tomatoes, “but Robbie dropped one.”

“No one needs to know. Come in, come in. While I get dinner on, you girls go through the clothes. Pick out for your mother and brother, too.”

The girls took Halley down a long hallway to what obviously was their room. There were two large beds. A dresser with a big mirror stood next to a large wardrobe with another mirror. Frilly curtains hung at the windows and colorful quilts covered the beds. Sunshine made the wide board floors gleam. It smelled like sunshine and starch and talcum powder.

Stacked on a table were some things that were not quilts, but from a distance almost looked like them. Close up, Halley could see they were fuzzy flower patterns on a fuzzy background.

“Chenille,” explained Eva. “These are the tufted bedspreads we’ve done this week. You didn’t see any before?”

Halley shook her head.

“We earn money doing ’em.”

Eva pulled a box from under the bed. She showed Halley the sheets of unbleached muslin fabric with a blue design stamped on each. There was a smaller box of colored spools of yarn that had to be sewn into the designs with large needles.