Light changes everything, p.24
Light Changes Everything, page 24
“Someone took these two boys here,” I said, nodding at Zack and Ez. “And they were long past being cute and pudgy. They’d got all long and rangy and smelly. I believe Ma could tell you how that felt to have her children stolen away. Why would you think I’d go along with your fool plan?”
“Because it’s better for the child,” Rachel said. “You’d do what was best for your horse, wouldn’t you? Think of the baby.”
“If you think you’re doing anything of the kind,” I said, “it’ll be over my dead body.”
“Oh, Mary Pearl! What a rude thing to say. I’m surprised at you.”
Zachary piped in with, “I’m not. You ain’t heard the worst she’s got yet.”
“That’s enough, son,” Pa said.
Well, the evening went along after that, and I don’t know how other people felt, but for myself I could have slapped Rachel across the face every time I looked at her. She just kept on smiling at me, looking, to my eyes, like the beady grin on a rattlesnake.
When Aubrey showed up the next day, he kept eyeing me, looking too smiley, too eager. Not exactly lustful, like before, but wanting something I had and thinking he’d just grin me into giving it to him.
I told Ma I had a sick headache, and I was sorry but I’d have to eat in my room and Zachary would have to bring me a plate. I planned to stay there until Mr. and Mrs. “Polecat” drove home. I stayed, too. I stitched diapers and little shirts. Made sure my pistols were always between me and the door. Joshua came and asked me a bunch of questions, worried about my condition, and I told him I was fine, that I was only playing possum to stay away from Aubrey. Joshua thought I was a victim of female hysteria, which often “came upon women in the last weeks before delivery.”
“Ha,” I said, “then let it be, and when you have a wife who’s big as a bathtub, you better treat her like a queen or I’ll come calling and straighten you out. When you come back up the stairs, bring me some drinking water, please.”
“They’re leaving now.”
With the shedding of Rachel and Aubrey, I returned downstairs. I felt heavy. As if the baby had slid down and made it hard to walk. Mercy, what a load to carry. How did Mama ever have all of us?
I was on the front porch the next morning when another buggy came up the road. I could tell it wasn’t those two returning, so I just fanned myself and watched. Turned out it looked like Aunt Sarah’s buggy. Some fellow was driving, but he didn’t look like her husband, Udell.
They pulled up and the man helped Sarah down, and she told me hello, and went into the house. Right at the doorway, I saw her turn and look at the man with the saddest expression on her face. I thought maybe there was some bad news they had to bring. The fellow stepped up on the porch and took off a brand-new-looking Stetson hat with a snakeskin band on it and a tiny brown feather cocked out of the band.
Standing there, all shined up and shaved, smelling of hair tonic and lye soap, stood Brody Cooperand. He whipped his hat off and held it up to his chest, nodded to me, and said, “Miss Mary Pearl, would you mind overmuch if I were to—that is, I come to—may I pay a call on you?”
I smiled because he looked so pathetic and frightened, like a cat that fell into a washtub. His hair was slicked down and his mustache trimmed too short for my liking. He had a tie around his neck and it was crooked. He wore brand-new Levi pants and had shined the toes of his boots. Just the toes.
For a moment I didn’t actually get the notion of what he’d asked. “Well, sure, Brody. Sit down here. I have lemonade. Would you like a glass?”
“Thank you kindly, Miss Mary Pearl.”
A long silence followed while he stared at the toes of his boots and I poured the glass full.
“Here’s your lemonade,” I said. “I can’t get up easy. Would you mind reaching for it?”
“Oh, oh sure.”
He drank some, then there was another long silence. I said, “So, you came to pay a call? Or were you just driving my aunt over here for a visit?”
“No, I was coming to see you and she said she’d like to ride along. Well, then. Are you feeling well?”
“Oh, yes. Pretty well. I feel fine, but I get tired easy.” I glanced around the porch. He was making me feel jittery, too. “You left your guitar here. Would you play me a tune?”
“Sure thing. Sure. It’s probably—I’ll play something. What would you like to hear?”
“How about ‘Red River Valley’?”
“That’s a nice one. I’ll just set this down.” He set the lemonade down and bumped it over. The glass didn’t break, but the lemonade made a big puddle. “I’m sure sorry. Sorry, miss.”
“Brody? You don’t have to be so formal with me. We’ve known each other more than five years.” As I said that, in my mind’s eye I stepped beyond that porch as if I were setting up a scene to take a photograph. I knew why he was here. He had meant “paying a call” as in courting.
My baby started kicking to beat the band when Brody picked the tune on his guitar. I fanned myself while Brody sang, too, and the words were sweet and lonesome. This was very kind and dear, but I sure wasn’t in any shape to be called upon. I sighed.
He stopped playing abruptly. “Miss Mary Pearl? Would you please think of something I’m about to ask you? And don’t say no yet. Think awhile. I ask you to think, but not too long accounta there isn’t much time, if you’d consent to marry me. I came to ask you. I’d be proud to have you say yes, and I’d never mistreat you nor be mean. You know me and you know I’m just a ordinary fellow, but I’d be ever proud and loving and would care for you and your baby, and the baby would have a name, and I’d raise him up as a boy of my own. I don’t care about that other. It weren’t your fault, was the way I heard it. Would you think on it at least? I’d care for you all the days of my life and your baby would have a name and he’d be mine as far as the world is concerned.”
“Brody—”
“I would. I’m a top hand. I could get a job anywhere. If you want to run critters, I’m your man. I’d ride for your brand all the days of my life. And I’ll tell you, since we didn’t pay the ransom and they gave everyone their money back, that I’ve been working for your aunt almost six years to buy my own herd. I’ve got a quarter section outside of Springerville. Good water, year-round, and a little bitty house. I reckon it’s just a shack, but it’s got a window.”
“That’s probably the most words I’ve ever heard you say.”
“I mean to persuade you, I reckon.”
“Want some more lemonade?”
“Yes, please. My throat is dry as cotton lint.”
I smiled.
He stood. Drank the lemonade straight down and then sank to one knee. “Would you think on it, please? I’d do for you always. I swear it.”
I saw myself nod, and I said, “I … I’ll think on it, Brody.” I was so touched by his romantic efforts I had to smile at him.
“I can buy you a ring, if you’ll have it. But, the cows, you know.”
“I know. Cows come first.”
“I made you this.” He held out a sort of string. A heavy, stiff cable-looking thing. “It’s—”
“A braid of Duende’s tail,” I finished for him. “Brody Cooperand, I think that’s the nicest gift anyone has given me in a very long time. Thank you.”
No sooner had I said that than my aunt came bustling out the door with a basket of quilt scraps and headed for the wagon, sort of like she’d been listening at the door. Brody turned to leave and drive his boss lady home. “So long, then,” he said.
“Brody? I will think on it. No matter which way I come down, I thank you for the offer.”
He nodded so vigorously I thought his head joint shook loose. “Thank you, Miss Mary Pearl. Thank you kindly for receiving my call.”
He took the two steps down to the ground and I leaned forward. “Brody? What’s your real first name? I mean, that’s short for something, isn’t it? I’d just like to know what it’s for.”
“My first name is Merle. Reckon I been called Brody all my life, though. I had a little brother for a while, and he couldn’t say ‘brother’ so’s everyone called me Brody ever since.”
“He’s gone now? I’m sorry. There ought to be more like you around. Thank you again.”
He nodded without looking me in the eye. “So long.”
* * *
That evening, my brother Clover sat next to me at dinner, though usually he sat across the table, second in line from Pa. He leaned close to me and whispered, “I saw old Brode sitting on the porch, asinging you a song.”
“Well, it wasn’t any secret.”
“He come sparking?”
“I can’t say.” I touched the braid of horsehair that was hung around my collar and clasped shut with a brooch.
“I thought you ought to know, before you toss him on his ear, that rascal’s been longing and thinking of no one but you since you was fifteen years old and he was eighteen. He’s a staunch feller.”
“You think I should marry him for that?”
“Only if you’re inclined. He ain’t as educated as us. Don’t talk as fancy, or as much.”
I almost said it would be nice if someone didn’t talk so much, but I just held my peace and nodded. “I’ll consider your words,” I said.
After I’d thought every way I could about Brody’s plan to rescue me from being marked with sin, and rescue the nameless baby I still called “Homer Jane” because it could be a boy or a girl, I told him I wanted to wait. If he still had a mind to marry me, I supposed, when it wasn’t some gallant gesture, I’d consider it again. He could adopt the baby or we’d just give her the new name and not mention it was ever different. I simply wasn’t going to take the easy way out. Having my child “without a father of record” as Rachel told us Aubrey defined it, in some other state would brand the baby all the days of their life. But in the Territory, no one hardly noticed. Plenty of children came on top of the sheets. No one asked about that.
I think Brody was truly disappointed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I never had any doubts about the process of bringing a baby, having lived among animals all my days. Saw my baby brothers come. Reckon some girls perish. No one gets through it without suffering, though it was still surprising just how merciless the pain was. There were a few times I was sure I wouldn’t survive. Once I considered asking someone to shoot me like a horse suffering too much to live through it. I was glad Mama and Rebeccah were there. Joshua had stayed until my delivery, he said, in case there were complications, but I had none. All went as it should, according to Joshua. Homer Jane became Remington M. Prine, at last. He was all boy, and had a voice on him from the second he was born. He let the world know he’d arrived, all sturdy and vigorous.
Ezra wanted to hold him, and we let him. He was tender and careful, though he only had the use of his left arm. Ez was healing well. Doing better with most everything except talking. Seemed like he wanted to say something all the time, but couldn’t get the words out. He rarely left my side.
A month went by, then another. Remington, called Remmy, was smiling and chubby. Cute as a button. Hungry and growing daily. Christmas was circled on our cow’s head calendar—a new fancy one we’d got last February—the kind where you tear away each old month’s page, but the colored picture of a Guernsey cow remained above the fresh month. The weather had cooled at last, and one day at noon, here were Rachel and Aubrey on the front porch again.
We’d expected them to come. Papa told all our relatives, and included Brody Cooperand, that we’d have a supper a week before Christmas. This was to accommodate Aubrey Hanna having to entertain important clients and social uppity-ups in Tucson for the sake of his career. Once Christmas Day came, we usually gave small gifts to one another in the immediate family. Rebeccah was making an embroidered kerchief for Ma, so I didn’t know what to get for her. I’d ordered store-boughten gloves for Pa. I bought a bridle with two silver conchos on it. I figured it was for my cousin Charlie, but sometimes I pictured Brody’s face when he saw it, and I suspected he’d be proud to have it. I sure wasn’t in love with him. My only true love now was Remmy.
I ordered a new wheeler toy for both Ezra and Zack. I didn’t know whether Ezra could play with it, but I saw him eyeing his brother while he played. Maybe it would be enough if he just had one to hold. Rebeccah was acting all silly and laughing, forgetting things, dropping things. Dr. Pardee was coming to our big supper, too, and she’d say over and over, “We have an announcement for everyone,” then she’d blush and take off to another room. I believed they were going to set the date at last to marry.
Just a couple of days before the supper, I thought of a gift for Ma. I got out the sketches I’d done of the daffodils in the yard at Wheaton. I pulled out my best art paper and painted a watercolor rendering of them, surrounded by green fields. I made two larger ones, then added smaller, more distant blooms that represented each member of this family. One was slightly faded, representing Esther. Thank heavens only one was faded. At the last, I added a smaller plant, just breaking the ground, for Remington.
I sent away for a large ceramic-glazed flower pot that came all the way from Holland, with five daffodil bulbs in it, to grow inside the house. For Pa, I printed two copies of the photograph I made of Ma sitting at the kitchen table unawares. I made two so I could practice colorizing. It took me a while to apply the soft powder color mixed just so, and make her look bright and more lifelike without looking painted. Finally, I got one done to my liking and set it into a nice frame from town. I got a matching frame for Ma’s painting.
I wanted something special for Granny, and the more I thought about it, the harder it was to come up with something. Some days when Remmy was a bit more fussy or I’d been up all night with him, I’d stay in bed awhile and sleep and read Granny’s memoirs.
Don’t be free and easy, giving away what’s most important to you. Gifts of the best of you have to be given all the time, not just on a date on the calendar. It isn’t giving someone a hank of cloth or a new plow or a stuffed dolly. Those things will bring a smile. Save the best of you, your heart’s learning, your time, your sympathy, for someone whose heart is as clear as yours, whose intentions are good and whose mind is set on the high ground. Don’t take up with no tinkers or drummers out of desperation to get off from home. Learn to size up folks like you’d size up a horse. Watch for meanness and honor. Take time to know their heart before you hand ’em yours.
I was searching through another catalog, and I found just the right gift for Granny. I sent off for a gilt frame with a curved glass front. While I waited for it to arrive, I cut off a long strip of my hair about an inch wide, and set about weaving her a hair memory. I used pins to hold it in place and little dabs of glue and set the whole thing on a piece of lavender linen. Rebeccah gave me a piece of lace to put around the edge. My nearly black hair in the middle, woven into a basket with a sort of flower petal around the side, looked really fine. I hoped she’d always think of me when she saw it.
The good news about Ezra was that he could walk now without help, and he could get to the outhouse and take a bath regular. He plumb fussed anybody’s head off who tried to help him in there. Said he could manage and he “wa’n’t no baby.” We all believed he’d never be fully right again and it was more than losing the sight in his eye. Ma and Pa both wept over Joshua’s tally of Ezra’s prognosis. Ma prayed, sometimes deep into the night, but what we saw was that while Ezra just went on living, there was no miracle of returning to who he’d been before. Zachary had suddenly sprouted up taller than me, and I know Ma was making him two shirts, and Pa’d ordered him some genuine Levi’s denim pants.
Joshua planned to leave two days after Christmas, he said. He’d listened to my plan of going to Albuquerque, and wanted to take a trip there and see what there might be available for a young doctor to set up practice. When he said that, Ma looked sideways at me, but said nothing. Pa only said that at least he’d only be a day away, and if I was still set on going to that place, well, my brother could do with my help.
That surprised me. Joshua needed my help? I believed they’d say I needed his help. Even Joshua remarked, “That would be a blessing. It’s so hard to get along and keep up on seeing patients at the same time. It’d be a different life, though, Mary Pearl. I wouldn’t ask you to study nursing, but just keep up my office part-time. You would have time to set up a photography shop on your own and I could help you financially with that. It’d be the best thing for both of us. Cold up there in the winter, with snow, but I’d love you to come along.”
“I’ve seen snow in Illinois,” I said. “It’s got some merits I’d heartily prefer over landing in a blistering saddle out in the sun in July here.”
We had so many folks in for the supper, we had to have it outside. Hired hands and all, it was a nice time. The men started up a big spit with a crank and they were out roasting a side of lamb all morning, along with cuts of beef laid on a grill, too. The ladies made up biscuits and fresh peas. I sat at the kitchen table with Remmy slurping on my breast while leaning against the arm of Papa’s chair, both my hands in a huge bowl of green peas shelling them. Ma and I laughed and talked. Remmy burped and grinned and I accidentally dropped peas on him when I giggled. By the time dinner was cooked, he was ready for a snooze so I carried him to my room and laid him down with a blanket.
Pretty soon, the tables were loaded with food and chairs and bales of hay had been circled. Checkers found himself a good spot under the meat table, just in case anyone dropped a piece for him. I managed to let a bit slide off my plate for him.
We had a fine meal. Every bowl of food was delicious. Brody brought his guitar and Gilbert and Charity sang Christmas songs with him. I’d rather hear a guitar than any of those ragtime tunes the kids at college liked to sing. In my opinion, a ukulele was just a toy for a child, where a guitar had some life in it. The sun settled on a western hill, painting the house and everything east in shades of crimson and ochre. I felt a sort of peaceful contentment wash over me as I sat there.
