All three were huddled on the bare wooden planked floor by the room’s only window. A saggy mattressed bed was available to sit on with its single sheet and worn out comforter but somehow this position better fit the circumstances.
Fifteen year old Rena wrapped a strand of her twelve year old sister Charlotte’s auburn hair around the forefinger of her right hand and used it to effectively strangulate the blood flow. Charlotte’s head was resting upon her older sibling’s shoulder, listless, like a rag doll, skin pale except for tiny islands of scattered freckles. Their seventeen year old brother Mathew, sitting beside them, a little removed, stared sightlessly at the brass leg of the bed that was nearest to them. It was dull, scratched a little from the stiff broom the girls used to sweep the floor since they were old enough to lift one. Now and then, the ragged, frayed curtains at the window blew in the draft that found its way through that broken pane that had never been fixed and probably never would be, telegraphing the light of late afternoon Tennessee sun into his old but young eyes.
It was the youngest of them that spoke first.
‘Maybe they will come back.’
She said it in such an unsteady cracked ghost of a voice, it was hard to tell if it was a statement or a question.
‘They ain’t coming back,’ Matthew said, a good bit more harshly than he intended. His thoughts were heavy with so many things – primarily how he was going to care for them all but also trying to accept their predicament himself and helping his sisters to, as soon as possible.
He unfolded the screwed up letter in his hand and braced himself to read it again.
Dear kids.
Now that you is grown pretty much and we have nigh on broken our backs caring for yall, we’ve decided it’s time we reclaimed our own lives. But don’t worry. We have made provision for ya.
That nice man, Mr Hutchins has said he will take both you girls in to work as maids around his farm and in a years time Rena, he plans to put a ring on your finger and make you his bride. And such a pretty one yall be. And lucky too. He’s a respected man. So you make sure and work hard for him both of you and be grateful.
And Matty, well, you’re a hard worker, fairly smart, you should be able to turn your hand to something if you put your mind to it.
The rent is paid till the end of the month. There’s crops in the garden and chickens in the coup. And the good lord above is looking down on ya.
If we can, we will stop by in the autumn to check on yall. But not having any clear destination yet, we can’t promise anything.
The road is a calling to us now and the future be opening its lovin arms but you all make sure and be good human beings and Matty, make sure you harvest those two back fields for Mr Pruit; I told him you would do so before the weekend. And girls, make sure to leave the house clean for the landlord at the end of the month.
Pop and Ma
Matty’s small and slightly angular adams apple bobbed. Somewhere in the core of him, the small boy that he once was needed to cry. But his childhood that never was, was most certainly over, left, far far behind him.
‘Read it to us Matty,’ pleaded Rena. ‘Or else let me see.’
She tried to grab it. It was a half effort. She was unsuccessful.
‘All you need to know, is that they ain’t coming back ok. We’re on our own now. We’ve gotta figure stuff out,’ he told them.
‘I’m glad they aren’t coming back,’ Charlotte declared. Her face crumpled as she let out a sob.
In the distance they heard a dog bark. Matty stood up and looked through the window, scanning the dirt track.
‘Shit! It’s Pruit, the landlord. Maybe he wants us out already.’
Rena wrapped an arm around her sister.
‘I’ll go see what he wants.’
Matty closed the door behind him, determined to execute his duties as newly installed man of the house.
As he went out to meet Pruit, he walked past the ‘crops’ and four chickens his father had referred to as an ample means of sustenance. A few rows of corn. Tomatoes. Beans. Onions. All of which Mathew himself had planted and maintained.
‘You ain’t gonna be living off that little lot for very long,’ announced Pruit, sidling up beside him with his rough looking one eyed mongrel. Matty patted the dog, put his hands on his hips and nodded. Pruit had obviously heard then. Probably everyone had. They’d forever be known as the kids whose parents had run out on them.
‘Whatcha gonna do? I wouldn’t be sending those girls off to live with Hutchins if I was you. I know what that man is. And it ain’t good even if he does go to listen to Reverend Hubbert every Sunday.’
So he knew about that too.
‘I don’t intend on allowing it to happen.’
‘Well from where I’m standin’ son, your options is limited.’
‘I’ll think of somethin’.’
Pruit suddenly frowned like he had gas or was constipated.
‘The wife, Mrs Pruit, was saying something ought to be done. She is quite distraught about your predicament. As you know, we never was blessed with children. Which really afflicted Mrs Pruit greatly. So, she put it to me, in her own earnest, feminine, emotional fashion, that maybe we might adopt Charlotte and give you the house rent free for a year.’
The dry wind picked up some dust and formed a tiny whirlwind that travelled towards the allotment. Matty watched it. Contemplating.
‘Kinda sounds like a trade Mr Pruit. Charlotte is my sister, not a hog.’
Pruit coughed.
‘Did I say she was? You’d still get to see her. She would have a good home. Schoolin. And you’d have a free year to sort yourselves out without prostituting the two girls to Hutchinson. It makes sense.’
The young lad twisted his head to look up to the sky. Three carrion birds circled in the hazy blue. An omen.
‘I’ll have a think about it Sir. And tell your wife, we appreciate the offer.’
Pruit lifted his hat and scratched his head.
‘Well, don’t take too long now. I’ll call again next Thursday.’
He turned and whistled the dog who was attempting to catch one of their precious chickens.
‘Well what did he want?’ said Rena, when Matty returned to the house.
Matty sighed.
‘He wants Charlotte. Him and his barren wife. And in return, we get the house free for a year.’
Rena looked horrified.
‘No! They can’t. We mustn’t let them split us up.’
‘We’d still be able to see her Rena. He promised. And she’d get to finish school.’
‘There must be another way.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Charlotte said, sitting up. ‘It makes sense. And I want to finish school.’
Matty and Rena stared at her.
‘The alternative is, this.’
And Matty shoved the letter at them both that their father and mother had left in the final part of their hastily staged getaway in the early hours of yesterday morning.
‘Read it.’
The girls did so, getting sadder with each line and then hugged each other.
‘We are not going to Mr Hutchins,’ Rena said looking over her shoulder.
‘I agree. That’s why I told Mr Pruit I would think over his offer and get back to him. We have until Thursday.’
The girls looked relieved.
‘Now I’m going to go check those fields that need harvested. And while I’m gone, you two try and rustle up something to eat.’
They nodded and each sibling set about their tasks.
Over the next week, Matty seemed strangely relaxed. Things were still difficult, their meals meagre, prospects still the same. But he was changed. The girls asked him about it.
‘I’ve been praying to God,’ he told them.
They found this hard to believe. They knew he’d no interest in such things.
A few days later, he informed them that he was heading out to Dillsworth – the next town, sixteen miles away.
‘It’s a long walk Matty. What for?’ said Charlotte.
Rena eyed him suspiciously and he realised she probably thought he was desserting them too.
‘I’ll be back. I promise.’
True to his word, he was and on his back, he had a bag he had not had with him on the outward journey. The girls ran out to greet him.
‘What have you got?’ cried Charlotte.
‘Don’t pester him. He’s tired. Go and fix him some tea.’
After he had eaten and drank and rested a bit, the girls sat expectantly.
He opened the bag and produced three cans of tinned meat. A big bag of dried beans. Sugar. Even coffee. Flour. Cornmeal. Vegetable seeds.And a pistol with several rounds of bullets.
Rena’s hand flew up to her mouth.
‘What do we need that for?’
Matty grinned. Delving his hand into the bag, he pulled out a huge wad of cash.
‘To protect this.’
‘Oh God. What did you do? Did you rob a bank?’
Rena was wringing her hands.
Her brother grabbed both her hands, halting her anxious flutterings.
‘No I did not.’
He looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see someone there. When reassured, he continued.
‘When I went to check the two fields the other day, the sun was low. I lifted a stalk or two by the roots to check for disease and saw something glinting in the soil. I put my hand down and found that our fortunes had changed. Without so much as a single prayer.’
‘What was it?’ cried Charlotte.
Matty leaned forward and whispered.
‘Gold!’
The girls squealed and clapped their hands.
‘So there will be no going home with Mr Pruit tomorrow Charlotte. Unless of course you want to?’
‘I certainly don’t!’
‘Well that’s settled then. But we do not tell anyone about this. If anyone asks, we have a rich aunty who sent us a little money who proved to be our silver lining.’
‘Only the silver is gold,’ smiled Charlotte, eyes sparkling.
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