A Northern Light(55)

I hadn't been able to go right away. There was too much work in the mornings then, with the cows giving so much milk. Plus, it was planting time and I had the cabbage seed to get in. The moon had been full the night before, and things that grow in a head have to be planted when the moon's full, so they'll take a similar notion and come up big and round. Right after dinner, though, I'd wrapped up the leftover biscuits and set off up the road. I'd made extra with the Hubbard kids in mind. We could afford to be more generous with food since we had milk money coming in.

Beth chattered as we walked. She talked about Miss Wilcox's automobile and how the entire Burnap family was down with the grippe and that J. P. Morgan's Pullman car had gone through Eagle Bay yesterday, and that Jim Loomis had been playing tricks on tourist kids who wanted to go boating on Fourth Lake, telling them to go inside the Eagle Bay Hotel and ask the manager for Warneck Brown, he'd take them. And they actually did it and how dumb could city kids be when everyone knew Warneck Brown was chewing tobacco, not a person. Beth tended to flit from one topic to another faster than a hummingbird. "Mattie, what's your word of the day today?" she finally asked me.

"Hispidulous."

"What's it mean?"

"Covered in short hairs. Bristly."

"You got a sentence for it?"

"It's have, Beth, not got, and no, I don't. I can't think of anything that's hispidulous."

She thought for a few seconds, then said, "Pa's face is with his beard. So's the piglet."

I laughed. "You're right," I said.

She smiled at me and took my hand. "I'm glad you're not going to college, Matt. I'm glad you're staying here. You won't go, will you? You'll stay and marry Royal Loomis, won't you? Abby says he's sweet on you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Beth," I said, forcing a smile. More and more, I was seeing my dreams of going to college as just that—dreams. I couldn't leave. I knew that. Deep inside, Id always known it. Even if I wasn't sparking with Royal. Even if I earned enough money working for Miss Wilcox to buy my train ticket and Pa personally escorted me to the railroad station. I had promised my mamma I would stay.

I tried to think about the future now. A real future, not a dream one. I thought about what Royal and I might do for Decoration Day—hear the town band in Old Forge or go to a picnic in Inlet. And if I should spend a little of the three dollars I'd earned from Miss Wilcox on fabric for a new skirt or save it all to go toward household things.

When we got to Emmie's, I was surprised to see that her kids were all outside. Tommy and Susie were standing under a pine tree with Lucius, the baby. Jenny, Billy, Myrton, and Clara were standing out in the muddy yard with their clothing soaked and their hair plastered to their heads. I looked at the chimney pipe sticking out of Emmie's bleak gray house. There was no smoke coming our of it. The poor things would be chilled to the bone and there would be no fire burning in the stove to warm them when they went in. They'd be sick in no time. Anger flared up inside of me. Mostly I felt sorry for Emmie, but she made me mad sometimes, too. She was a mamma seven times over, but she still needed a mamma herself.

As soon as the children saw Beth and me, they swarmed us like kittens around a milk pail. There always seemed to be more of them than I remembered.

"Why are you kids out in the rain?" I asked them.

"Ma sent us out. She's busy," Myrton said, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Busy with what?" I asked.

"Mr. Loomis is here. He's helping her fix the stove. She said it's dangerous and she doesn't want us back in the house till he's finished," Tommy said.

"That's silly. I'm sure it's fine to go in," I said. I couldn't see how fixing a woodstove would be dangerous.

"Mattie, you can't go in. Don't." There was a lick of anger in Tom's voice. "They've got the whole stove apart; there's pieces all over the floor."

"Cripes, Tom, it's just a stove. I'll be careful of it," I said, irritated. "I've come all this way in the rain because you asked me to, and I'm not going back again without seeing your ma."

I trotted up the broken steps onto the porch. The house's one front window was right next to the door. I glanced in before I knocked, just to make sure there weren't any stove parts in front of the door, and what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks.

Emmie was bent over the stove with her skirts up around her waist. Mr. Loomis was behind her with his pants down around his ankles. And neither of them was fixing anything.

I turned around, grabbed Bern's arm, and yanked her off" the porch. "Ow, Mattie, jeezum! Let go, will you?" she howled.

"Tommy ... tell your ma ... tell her I'll call on her a bit later, all right? All right, Tom? Here ... here are some biscuits. Take them in to her when ... when you can."

Tommy didn't answer me. His thin shoulders sagged from the weight of knowing. I could feel the heaviness, too, and it made me angry. I didn't want it. Didn't want to carry it. Tommy took the food, but he wouldn't look at me. I was glad of it, for I couldn't have met his eyes.

"Ain't we going inside, Matt? I thought you wanted to see Emmie."

"Later, Beth. Emmie's busy. She's fixing the stove. It's dangerous."