The Coffin Quilt (12 page)

I went back home. Fall deepened. The nights got colder, though some days were still warm. We brought out the blankets. My brothers stacked the wood by the door. Alifair was off to a revival meeting for two weeks so I was free of her. I helped Ma make apple butter. We went to a corn shucking. In church they were getting ready for the Christmas pageant and I was asked to be part of it. But all I could think of when they talked about Mary, and how as she didn't have a place to birth her baby, was Ro. And how there was no room for her at our house. Or at Devil Anse's. I said no to the Christmas pageant. Nancy McCoy played Mary. I sang in the choir. The songs gave me comfort.

At Christmas I brought a special basket to Belle Beaver. She asked after Ro and I lied and told her, yes, I'd given her the comb and she loved it. "These people around here ain't the forgivin' kind," she told me. "She ought to take her feller and move away."

I wished it could be so simple. In March, the end of a
bitter winter, Ro had a baby girl. Only Aunt Betty attended her, though I went with Ma to see her. Ma was beside herself with joy. Ro's joy was quiet and tinged with sadness.

"A darlin' little baby," Ma said. "Looks just like you, Ro." Aunt Betty agreed.

The baby had blond hair, not dark like my sister's. Was everybody blind? Couldn't they see it looked just like Johnse?

R
O'S BABY, LITTLE
Sarah Elizabeth, loved me. She was only nine months in December, but Ro said she looked for my coming. When I did come she wanted only me, clung to me and stared at me with her big blue eyes as if I was somebody special. It made me all weak and mushy inside. I hated leaving her.

"Your sister's in a little paradise all her own," Aunt Betty told me. "And I feel like a grandmother. I'm enjoying it a heap, I can tell you."

I envied Ro, living in her cottony world, but the world outside went on, meaner than ever. I didn't tell her, of course. But neighbors gossiped about her and the baby, saying it was "conceived in sin," that it had the hated Hatfield blood. On the other side of the coin, word came to us that Devil Anse was sorry he hadn't allowed Johnse to wed Roseanna. He'd heard about the
cunning baby and was going around bragging that it had his blood. But now it was too late.

"Too late, why?" I asked Ma. But she only shook her head and didn't say.

One day right before Christmas I lingered after school to help straighten up instead of going to Ro's, because Sarah Elizabeth had the measles. Ma had been there for two days now. I had the jimjams because I wasn't allowed to go. I hadn't had measles yet. All I could think of was little Sarah Elizabeth. Was she looking for me?

Nancy McCoy lingered after school, too, but she wasn't helping. That's when she told me that Johnse was a-carousin' and drinking. "And seeking solace at Belle Beaver's place."

"What for?" I asked.

She grinned. "Well, it isn't for maple candy. It's such a shame, a nice boy like Johnse going to Belle for solace. She should be told to leave him be and maybe he'd wed who he wanted."

Why was she taking up for Roseanna of a sudden? Then I decided that though Nancy was a low-down slithering snake, maybe she was right. Maybe all that had to be done was tell Belle to turn Johnse away so's he could think how much he loved Roseanna. He'd only been once to see the baby. That's what he needed, to visit again and see that adorable child.

Ma had got up a big basket of vittles for Belle and I was to take it on the twenty-second. I thought it brave of Ma. Other church ladies were all in a huff about Belle. It
seemed like a lot of their menfolk were visiting her again, so they'd sent a delegation to my brother Jim, who said he'd ponder it. Jim never did anything without he pondered it well. And I know he told Tolbert and Mary that it wasn't right to turn a woman out of her home in the snows of winter.

A fresh layer of snow had fallen the night before, but it hardly counted as the snows of winter. It was powdery. And it glistened in the morning sun. On my way to school I felt good lugging Belle's basket. On this visit I'd talk to Belle, tell her about Ro's beautiful baby and how maybe she could turn Johnse away when he next came to see her. Adelaide and Trinvilla walked on ahead, making snowballs and throwing them at each other.

A thin wisp of smoke curled up out of Belle Beaver's chimney. I hurried down her narrow path and knocked on the patched-up door. Usually she came right out, but now she didn't. I knocked again. There was a muffled sound from inside. I pushed the door open and dropped the basket. A jar of molasses and a ham rolled onto the floor. I stood there and screamed.

Belle was hanging from the rafters.
Buck naked.
And dead.

I turned to run, but a cry stopped me, and then her feet started to wiggle. She was alive! And then I saw she wasn't altogether naked, but that her print dress was pulled up and tied around her neck. Cloth was stuffed in her mouth.
I had to do something! But what
?

She was mumbling through the rag in her mouth and casting her eyes in the direction of a small bench. I
crossed the room to seize it. More muffled cries. She was shaking her head no. Why? Oh. She was now looking to a table where a bowl and cup and some utensils were laid out And I understood. There was a large, ugly knife. Of course. She wanted me to cut the rope.

I grabbed the knife, dragged over the small bench, and climbed onto it, but when I reached up I could not reach the rope binding her to the rafters. I couldn't even reach the gag in her mouth.

I must get help,
I thought. The fire in the old stone fireplace was fast fading, the place was freezing cold. I jumped down from the bench. "I'm going for help. The school is closer than my brother Tolbert's house. I'll be back soon." Before I left I threw a log on the fire.

I ran all the rest of the way to school. I heard Mr. Cuzlin ringing the old school bell before I even got through the woods, saw him walking back across the snow-covered yard to the school. I'd been running so fast I could scarce find my breath, but I stopped and yelled, "Mr. Cuzlin!"

He turned, saw me, and waved.

Right about then I slipped and fell and he started toward me. By the time he reached me I was on my feet, but tears were frozen on my face. There's no telling what the poor man thought, seeing me all out of breath and crying like that. Likely that I was chased by a black bear.

No matter. When he heard what misery I was toting, he turned to one of the older girls who was just coming into the schoolyard, told her to take charge, and came with me back to Belle's.

***

W
E CUT HER
down and took the gag from her mouth. She was dazed and freezing. We got her dress straightened. Mr. Cuzlin was so embarrassed by her state that he didn't look at me. Just gave orders. "Fetch that brandy over there. Make her a cup of tea and get that comforter." I did as I was told. Then he told me to build up the fire and I did that, too. I picked up Ma's vittles, which were all over the floor, and put them in the cupboard.

When Mr. Cuzlin asked her who did this to her, she shook her head and couldn't speak at first. I confess that for a minute I held my breath, hoping it wasn't my brother Jim. But inside me I knew that Jim didn't mistreat women, even those labeled "bad."

"Don't know," she said. "They had their faces covered. But they were young. Said they'd had enough of my evil ways and wanted me out of their God-lovin' community. Said I should stop corruptin' the likes of young Johnse Hatfield. Said their sister and him was a-fixin' to wed."

I felt my face go hot. "It wasn't my brothers," I said. "They wouldn't do such."

He said nothing.

It wasn't,
I wanted to scream. But who wanted their sister to wed Johnse Hatfield?

"Like I invited that Johnse feller here," she was saying. "I ask you, sir, is this the work of God? What they did to me? Well, I'm a-leavin'. Belle doesn't want any truck with a place where the men don't treat women
like ladies, even if'n I don't go to church. I'm leavin' tonight."

"More snow is on the way," Mr. Cuzlin told her. "Might be you should wait a spell. You know how the snow gets in these mountains."

"I'll take my chances with the snow and the mountains afore I take my chances with these God-fearin' people," she told him.

We stayed with her a bit until she was herself again. Then we left. I went out the door first, as I was told, but when I turned to close it behind me I saw Mr. Cuzlin hand her some money. "In case you need it."

On the way back to school again, I defended my brothers. "They don't even want Johnse to wed Ro," I told him. I found that I cared what he thought, dearly.

He nodded. "Somebody could just be throwing the blame on your brothers," he said to me. By the time we got back to school it was near noon. Nancy McCoy had taken charge.

"Don't you think I've done a good job?" she asked. Her eyes flirted with him.

"I think you have done a complete job," he told her. "And you have gotten your way."

I did not take his meaning. But Nancy did. She flounced to her seat. Soon I found that everybody in the schoolroom knew where we'd been and wanted to know if Belle Beaver was dead. Then I knew who had attacked Belle Beaver. But why? Oh, I didn't know. My feet were so cold, and the sight of Belle hanging naked was frozen somewhere inside me forever.

On the way home when I passed her place I saw that
she was gone. The door swung open, banging in the winter wind. There was no more smoke from the chimney. Ahead of me on the path I heard Adelaide and Trinvilla giggling. "Too bad," Adelaide said. "Now the only bad woman left in these parts for people to talk about is our own sister."

I caught up with Adelaide, gave her a good smack, and kept running. I'd be punished when I got home by Alifair, but I didn't care. When I got home, though, there was no punishment. There was only Alifair waiting to tell us that she'd had word from Ma. Ro's baby had gotten pneumonia from the measles. And died. I dropped my books and ran all the way to Aunt Betty's.

P
A HAD NEVER
seen Roseanna's baby girl, but now he stood with us on a knoll behind Aunt Betty's place when they put the little coffin Floyd had made into the cold ground.

My heart was near ruined. Sometimes I thought it wasn't even there anymore inside me. All that was there when I reached was a hollow ache.

Little Sarah Elizabeth dead! I couldn't believe it Nobody died from measles! But what haunted me most was, did she look for me to come and see her? Was she waiting? Did she wonder why I hadn't come?

My brothers covered the casket with earth. When that was done, Pa went over to Roseanna and said something soft in her ear. It was the first time he'd spoken to her since she came home after her stay with the Hatfields. Ro's face didn't change at all. She didn't even act like Pa spoke. I don't think she was being ornery. I
just think Ro didn't know where she was or who was with her. I think she was in someplace all her own, out of reach of us all.

***

I
FOUND OUT
later that Pa invited Ro to come and stay with us for a spell, but she refused. She went home with Aunt Betty and our lives went on. In our house things were quiet. Nobody spoke of the baby or Ro. But not speaking of them was worse. It was like they were there in the room with us and we kept tripping over them all the time.

I wished it was summer so I could stay in my playhouse. I wished I could go to Mary and Tolbert's. I did go to Aunt Betty's a lot to see my sister, but I'd just as lief as stayed home. Ro didn't talk to me. Most of the time she wasn't even in the house. She was out in the cold, on that knoll, sitting in the snow at the baby's grave. And no kind of talk or tears could bring her around.

***

J
OHNSE
H
ATFIELD HADN'T
come to the funeral. Everybody thought that was just the awfulest thing, that he didn't show to put his own baby girl into the ground. Nobody gave much mind to the fact that my pa might kill him if he showed. They just went around mouthing bad things about Johnse. The stories got better every day, too. We heard he'd run off to follow Belle Beaver. Another story said he'd gone to Florida to do blacksmithing. Still another held that he'd been wandering around in the mountains and was attacked by a bear.

And then one day, the first cold week in January, he was there, outside our schoolroom, on his horse. All bundled up in the cold and waiting.

I saw him from the window and for a minute it was as much of a jolt as seeing Yeller Thing. What was he doing here at our school? Had something happened now to Ro? Was he here to tell me? I could scarce wait to get outside. But then Mr. Cuzlin wanted to tell me something about my ciphering. By the time I got outside, he was off his horse and talking with Nancy McCoy. And while I stood there like a jackass in the rain, he helped Nancy up onto his horse, climbed up behind her, and they rode away.

It came to me then. I'd forgotten about this, what with all the sadness of Ro's baby dying. I'd forgotten about the day when me and Mr. Cuzlin had cut Belle Beaver down and she'd said some men had tied her up, some men who wanted Johnse to wed their sister. It wasn't my brothers. I knew that for certain. And I recollected how, when we got back to the schoolroom that day, everybody knew where we'd been and what had happened to Belle. And what Mr. Cuzlin said to Nancy.

It was Nancy McCoy's brothers then, who got rid of Belle Beaver. And now, soon as it was decent after his baby died, here was Johnse Hatfield, come a-courtin' Nancy McCoy. Because courting was what it was. There was no other name you could put on it.

He came every day after that, good weather or bad.
Every day just as we were finishing up in the afternoon I'd look out the window and there he'd be. All bundled in the January cold—gloves, scarf, everything, even an extra blanket to wrap about Nancy, who rushed out soon's she was given leave. She came every day to school now, too. Middle of winter lots of kids didn't come. Some were sickly. We'd heard there was some ailment going around that sounded like typhoid. Some parents were afeared to let their children come to school. Other young 'uns just didn't have warm enough clothes. Still others didn't bother coming through the snow. But Nancy came.