The Mandie Collection (44 page)

Mandie pushed the fallen papers away from the corner. “Let's make a pile right here.” She began a new stack with the paper she had just checked.

“Are y'all going to read all those dirty old newspapers?” Polly called to them, keeping her distance.

“Maybe. Don't you want to help?” Joe asked.

“No, thank you. I'm dirty enough from all the dust y'all stirred up,” Polly answered, still holding her handkerchief over her nose and mouth.

As Mandie looked over at Polly, she noticed a door near where Polly was standing on the landing. “Hey, Polly!” she called. “Open that door behind you and see what's in there.”

Polly quickly turned around. She looked at the door with the ceramic doorknob and shrank away from it. “No!” she cried. “It's—it's probably—dark in there, whatever it is.”

Sallie jumped up. “I will open it.”

As Sallie approached, Polly moved down a couple of steps, away from the door. Mandie and Joe watched across the room as Sallie tried to push the door open. When it finally gave way, there was a terrible noise from inside the room. It sounded like someone beating
on things and throwing things around, and there were creepy moans among it all.

Joe and Mandie raced to Sallie's side as she stood back, afraid to enter the room.

“It's dark as pitch in there!” Joe exclaimed.

“What is all that noise? I can't see a thing,” Mandie cried.

“It's probably rats,” Joe decided.

“Rats do not whine like that,” Sallie protested.

“Hand me that yardstick over there. I'll poke it inside,” Joe told the girls.

Mandie got the yardstick and handed it to Joe. He gradually pushed the stick inside the dark room. Then getting braver, he stepped one foot inside and whacked the yardstick around, hitting something and causing a greater commotion.

Mandie, standing close behind him, jerked back. “Something cold touched my head!” she cried.

Joe backed out with her, but when he did, something touched his head also. Reaching up to fight it off, whatever it was, he realized he was banging at a chain dangling from above. He pulled hard on it, and suddenly the room was flooded with light.

Looking up, they saw an old skylight opened by the chain. At the same instant, there was a great fluttering sound and dozens of birds flew out the opening. It was just an empty room with one small, dirty, broken window.

“Pigeons!” Mandie gasped.

“What a relief!” Joe exclaimed.

“We should have recognized their sound,” Sallie said.

Polly, still watching from the steps, called to them. “At least it wasn't rats.”

At that moment a huge field rat ran out of the room, scurried past Polly within inches of her feet, and disappeared into a hole in the floor.

Polly screamed, grabbed up her skirts, and ran down the stairs. She ran all the way out the front door and joined Uncle Ned to wait for the others.

The other three young people laughed until their sides hurt.

“We'd really better get busy,” Mandie finally managed to say. “Uncle Ned will be saying it's time to go home pretty soon.”

Sallie and Joe agreed.

In a short time Mandie had located the newspaper for the week of Monday, April 29, 1850. “This is the paper for the week Ruby died,” she said excitedly. Sitting in the middle of the floor, she spread the paper out as Sallie and Joe joined her.

They read the whole eight-page paper but found nothing at all about the Shaws or anyone named Hezekiah.

“Wait. We are looking at the wrong paper,” Sallie told them. “If Ruby did not die until May first, it would not have been in this newspaper at all. It would be in the one for the next week.”

“That's right, Sallie,” Mandie said.

Joe scrambled for more papers, and in a few minutes he had located the one for the week of Monday, May 6, 1850. He laid it out on the floor before them.

The three anxiously combed the pages of the newspaper and finally found an account of Ruby's death.

Mandie read aloud with a quiver in her voice. “ ‘Little Miss Ruby May Shaw, nine-year-old daughter of John and Talitha Shaw, died Wednesday, May 1, evidently thrown from her pony near her father's mine. Mine workers say she was well and happy when she mounted her pony after a visit with them that day. A young Negro boy found her lying in the bushes halfway between the mine and her home. She was already dead. Her pony was grazing nearby. The town will mourn the loss of this bright, friendly little lady who knew no strangers. She was buried in the church cemetery on Thursday, May 2, across the road from her home. Today would have been her tenth birthday.' ”

Mandie, Joe, and Sallie looked at each other.

“So sad!” Sallie whispered.

“Terrible!” Joe agreed in a husky voice.

Mandie wiped a tear from her eye. “I wish I could have known her,” she said.

“I wonder who the Negro boy was. They don't even give his name,” Joe puzzled.

“Maybe my grandfather knows,” Sallie suggested.

“Let's get these newspapers stacked back up so we can leave,” Mandie said.

Soon everything was back in shape. They looked around, closed the skylight in the empty room, closed that door, and hurried downstairs to find Uncle Ned.

The old Indian was sitting alone on the front step.

“Where is Polly?” Mandie asked, looking about.

“Home,” Uncle Ned replied. “Her cook come down road in wagon. Polly get her pony and follow home.”

Mandie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Papooses all dirty,” Uncle Ned said as he stood up to survey the group. “Doctor son, too.” He shook his head slowly. “Mother of Papoose not like dirt.”

The three young people looked down at themselves guiltily.

Joe shrugged. “We found the newspaper with the story about Ruby's death in it. It was near the bottom of a huge pile, and when I tried to pull it out, everything caved in on top of me,” he explained. “And the girls got dirty trying to help me get out.”

Uncle Ned just shook his head again.

“The newspaper said a young Negro boy found Ruby lying in the bushes after her pony had thrown her,” Mandie said. “Do you remember who he was?”

“No, Papoose,” Uncle Ned answered. “I in Deep Creek, doing business things when Ruby die.”

“Didn't anyone ever discuss it or say anything about the boy afterward?” Joe asked.

“Father of Ruby Shaw not allow it. Family, servants, not speak of it ever,” the old Indian said.

“But I imagine people in town talked about it, didn't they?” Joe asked.

“Yes, there was much talk. But Father of Ruby know boy not guilty,” Uncle Ned replied.

“Was the mine closed the same day that Ruby died?” Sallie asked.

“Yes. Father of Ruby say sad, bad mine,” the old Indian said.

“Maybe the Hadleys would remember who the boy was,” Mandie suggested. “They had the story in their newspaper. They must have known.”

“No more today. Go home. Wash,” Uncle Ned told them. Motioning for them to get on their ponies, he strode over to his horse and mounted.

“Will you go back to the Hadleys with us tomorrow, Uncle Ned?” Mandie begged. “Please!”

“We have to return the key to them anyway,” Sallie reminded him.

“We could go with you when you return the key,” Joe said.

“We see,” Uncle Ned grunted.

“I hope they can remember who the boy was,” Mandie said as they rode off toward home.

CHAPTER THREE

CEMETERY PATH

“Come in. Come in. Make yourselves at home,” Mr. Hadley greeted the group the next morning, opening his front door wide.

“Morning,” the young people chorused, following their host and Uncle Ned into the parlor.

“Thank you for key,” Uncle Ned said, handing it to him.

“You are very welcome,” Mr. Hadley replied. “Sit down. Sit down,” he invited. “I am sorry Mrs. Hadley is a little under the weather this morning. Well, what did you find in the old newspapers?”

The three young people perched on a settee nearby.

“We thank you, Mr. Hadley, for letting us look at your old papers,” Mandie said. “We found the story about Ruby's death. It said a young Negro boy found her after the accident. Do you remember who he was?”

“A young Negro boy?” Mr. Hadley repeated. He scratched his thick gray hair. “Well now, I don't believe I remember. In fact, I don't think anyone ever said who he was. He was probably just someone who happened to be passing by.”

“Did the authorities investigate the accident?” Joe asked.

“I don't think so. You see, it was taken for granted that her pony had thrown her,” Mr. Hadley explained. “Besides, as we told you before, her father wouldn't talk to anyone about it. Even the funeral was private.”

“Do you know of anyone else who was living here when it happened, someone who is still living here in Franklin?” Mandie asked.

Mr. Hadley thought for a moment. “I don't believe I do. Most of our friends are dead now.”

Sallie spoke up. “Is the funeral man still living?”

“The funeral man? Oh, the undertaker,” Mr. Hadley answered. “Why, yes, I believe the current undertaker was in business back then, or at least it was the same family.”

“Where is the funeral parlor?” Mandie asked.

“Right down on Main Street below our newspaper building. It's called Hudson's Undertakers,” Mr. Hadley said. “I don't know whether they kept any records back then or not, but someone there might have some kind of information.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hadley,” Mandie replied as the young people rose to go.

“I hope Mrs. Hadley will be feeling better,” Sallie said. “We appreciate your help,” Joe added.

Outside, as they mounted their ponies, Mandie spoke to Uncle Ned. “Mother won't let us go to the undertakers without an adult . . .” she began.

“It would only take a few minutes to stop by there, Uncle Ned,” Joe said.

Sallie smiled as she watched her friends try to convince her grandfather to take them.

“Not this day,” Uncle Ned insisted as they rode off. “Later.”

When they arrived at Mandie's house, they hurried up the walkway in search of Uncle John. They found him in the library bent over a lot of papers on his desk.

“Uncle John,” Mandie began as the young people gathered around him. “Uncle Ned can't go with us to the undertakers, and Mother won't let us go anywhere without an adult. Will you please take us?” she begged.

“The undertakers? What are you talking about?” Uncle John laid down his pen and straightened in the big chair.

Mandie quickly explained.

Uncle John shook his head. “I'm sorry, Amanda. I can't go anywhere today. There's a businessman coming to see me in a little while, and he'll probably be here all afternoon.”

“Oh, shucks!” Mandie exclaimed.

“Why don't y'all go do something else for the time being? Go measure some of the distances on the map or something,” Uncle John suggested. “But you must stay within sight of the house.”

“That's a good idea,” Joe said.

“I do have to get back to my work here,” Uncle John said. “Maybe tomorrow I'll have time to help you.”

The young people went outside and strolled across the road to the cemetery.

“Now how are we going to measure the distances? We don't have anything to measure with,” Joe said as they stood at the iron gate to the cemetery.

“First, we should find the pathway next to the cemetery shown on the map because we'll have to measure from the house on down that pathway,” Mandie said. “Or would you like to see Ruby's grave first?”

“Yes, let's do that. Come on,” Joe said, lifting the latch to open the gate.

The girls followed him inside the walled-in cemetery, and they walked quietly among the tombstones.

“Here is Ruby's grave,” Mandie said, kneeling by the broken tombstone. “You see, it's all cracked up with pieces missing. Uncle John is going to have it repaired if possible. If not, he's going to have a new one put up.”

Joe pointed to a huge double monument nearby. “And here are your grandparents' graves,” he said.

Mandie got up to look and then went on to the next plot. “And here are the graves of my great-grandparents,” she said, stopping at the next two individual stones. “I wish my father had been buried here so I could put flowers on his grave.” She looked up at Joe. “Do you ever go to the graveyard back home at Charley Gap?” Tears swam in her blue eyes.

Joe patted her hand. “I do, Mandie. Every once in a while I take flowers up there and put them on your father's grave, just like I promised.”

“Thank you, Joe.” Mandie cleared her throat.

“Do you not think your father would rather have been buried in the mountains he loved so much?” Sallie asked.

“I guess so.” Mandie quickly changed the subject. “We need to find that path now.” She started to leave, but Joe kept looking around.

“Hey, there's another gate!” he said excitedly, hurrying toward the back corner to investigate.

Mandie and Sallie caught up with him. The big iron gate was just like the one at the front.

Mandie stood on tiptoe to see over the wall to the outside. “There's a pathway outside!” she exclaimed. “We've found it.” She reached up to lift the rusty latch on the gate. It wouldn't budge.

“Let me try,” Joe said.

“This latch must not have been used in a long time,” Sallie observed.

“I'm afraid we're going to have to get a hammer or something to knock it open,” Joe finally said.

“Let's just go around,” Mandie suggested.

When they assembled again on the other side of the cemetery wall, Mandie looked down the faint path that seemed to start at the back corner of the cemetery. “This path is really overgrown. I didn't even know it was here,” she said.