Velva Jean Learns to Drive (57 page)

I had only been here once before, long ago with Johnny Clay. Fifteen people lived in that little house and not all of them were right. The only one with any sense was Hink’s second sister, Praise Elizabeth, who had gotten out years ago by marrying a traveling salesman and moving to Tennessee. She had never once come back.

There were at least three Lowes hanging off the porch, staring at me. There was another one in the front window and two more that ran around back. They were just like rabbits, Granny always said. They just multiplied before your eyes.

I walked up onto the porch. The floorboards creaked and I thought I might fall right through. I knocked on the door.

“Daddy ain’t in there,” one of the Lowes on the porch said. He was filthy—small and mangy with hair that stuck up all over.

“Where is he?” I said.

“He gone off after a bear.” The three Lowes came creeping over. They stood around me. One of them was chewing on his thumb. The other one was smoking even though he wasn’t any older than nine. “We think the bear probably killed him. We think he’s probably dead somewhere, chewed up by an animal.”

“Is your mama home?” I said.

“Mama’s in there lying down,” the oldest boy said. “On account of what happened with Janette.”

Actually, Mrs. Lowe was always lying down. She was either resting in bed because she was just getting ready to have a baby or because she was just getting over having one. “Can I see her?”

There was a shuffling sound and Javeen appeared at the door. She was fourteen or fifteen, but she was taller and fatter than Janette. She hollered at the boys on the porch, “Get down offa there and go away. Janny’s trying to rest.”

I said, “Javeen? Can I come in please?”

She looked me over and then nodded. She said, “She won’t want to talk to you.”

I followed her into the room inside where Mrs. Lowe lay on one bed and Janette lay on another, turned on her side, face to the wall, a thin brown blanket pulled up over her shoulder. There were six or seven other beds—wide enough for just one person—all around, and another room beyond with more beds.

I looked right at Janette, then at Mrs. Lowe, who was staring at me from her pillow. I said, “Ma’am, I didn’t mean to disturb anyone. I came to see Janette.”

Mrs. Lowe said, “She ain’t up to company.”

I said, “I’m so sorry to hear about your trouble. I want you to know that I’m here to offer any help I can. I care about Janette. She’s my friend. I’m sorry she was hurt, that anyone would hurt her. I’m sorry that someone would do such a thing in this world.” I started to cry even though I hadn’t meant to. I said, “I want her to know that I’m here for her if she needs anything or if you need anything at all.”

Mrs. Lowe was crying now. Javeen sat down and held her mama’s hand. Mrs. Lowe said, “That man attacked my daughter. He’s going to pay for it. My husband and my brothers and my son have gone to find that man and make sure he gets what’s coming to him.”

I glanced at Janette, still lying in her bed. She hadn’t moved since we came in.

I said, “Does she know the man who did this?”

Mrs. Lowe said, “She never seen him before. She said he was a stranger. She called the one that did this the outlander. The sheriff come up here last night after Hink found Janette. The sheriff and Frank and Hink, they took off toward Cherokee. They figure that boy is going to try to run through down there to the railroad, and then to Bryson City or on over to Tennessee.”

I thought: The storm isn’t over. It’s only just coming. Heaven help us all.

From the Lowe’s house, I climbed the rest of the way up our mountain to Old Widow’s Peak. Standing there, I missed Johnny Clay all over again. I felt the familiar homesick lump in my throat and for a while I couldn’t swallow. There at the top of the peak, I had a good view of the Scenic. No one was working—no men, no guards—which was strange for the middle of a weekday.

I stood there for a little while longer, looking out past the new road and over the valleys and the mountains that grew up one after another as far as the eye could see. I wondered where Johnny Clay was, if I could see him from where I stood. I wondered about Beachard and Daddy. And then I turned toward home.

I heard Harley before I saw him. The train was stopped in Alluvial, the doors to the boxcars standing open. A crowd was gathered beside the tracks, outside Deal’s. Not just a crowd—there were at least a hundred people, maybe more. It looked like everyone had come down off our five mountains, like they were gathered for the Alluvial Fair.

Harley was preaching about something, but I couldn’t make out the words. Dusk was coming; the sun was moving lower in the sky. Lightning bugs were beginning to appear, flickering on and off here and there. The crickets were starting to hum, like fiddles just warming up. Men stood with arms folded. They leaned on shotguns. Some of the boys from the Scenic crowded together in groups, surrounded, gathered up around the boxcars, guns pointed at them. There were miners and boys from the band mill staring out from inside the train. I saw Burn McKinney and his family, and Burn looked mad as a hornet. Then I saw Mrs. Dennis and Dr. Hamp, and Mrs. Dennis was crying.

The first person I recognized in the crowd was Coyle Deal, standing outside the store, arms folded. From the back, he looked just like Danny, sandy blond hair, sturdy shoulders. For a moment, you could almost believe he was Danny. He turned and then he was Coyle again. I ran to him.

“What’s happening?” I said. Beyond him I could see everyone I knew—everyone from the mountains. Harley stood at the front of the crowd, up on the back of someone’s truck.

“Harley’s preaching against the outlanders. Everybody’s calling for blood. There are a lot of people who want them gone, Velva Jean—anyone who isn’t from here—and Harley’s leading it. He’s talking about casting the demons out.”

“Demons?” I said, too loudly. A couple of people—Ez Ledford, Shorty Rogers—turned and gave me nasty looks.

Jessup walked over to us and said, “If you ask me, there’s more than one demon needs casting out here.”

Coyle said, “They’ve rounded up the boys from the band mill and the boys from the CCC camp, the ones that aren’t local. They’re sending them south on the train, out of Alluvial, out of North Carolina.”

I felt light-headed. The air started swimming and I thought I might have to leave or sit down with my head between my legs. I said, “Why doesn’t anyone stop them? What about the men who run the band mill? The men who run the camp? What about whoever it is that’s in charge of building that road?”

“They couldn’t plan on anything like this happening. These men went up there like an army and took what they wanted.”

“Where’s the sheriff?”

“On the manhunt, trying to find the outlander, the one that attacked Janette Lowe. He and Deputy Meeks and the Lowes are in Murphy. They sent word that they’ve got a lead on a man down there.”

“What are they doing with the McKinneys? With Mrs. Dennis and Dr. Hamp?”

“They’re outlanders, too. They’re not from here so they’re making them leave.”

“They can’t do that,” I said. “Where’s your daddy? He can stop this. Where’s Daddy Hoyt?”

“Trying to stop your husband from making matters worse,” Coyle said. “They been fighting this thing all day. They been shot at and swore at and pushed out of the way.”

Jessup said, “Someone even came after Ruby Poole because she’s from Asheville, but Linc threatened to kill them, and everyone knows he’d keep his word.”

I was trying to understand everything they were telling me. I felt like the air had run out of my head and like my brain had shut off and like I couldn’t understand anything at all, no matter how I tried.

Up on the back of the truck, Harley was barnstorming. He had shed his white jacket and was standing only in his shirtsleeves and vest. There were damp circles underneath his armpits. There were little drops of water winging off the ends of his hair. “We need to ban together,” Harley said. “We’ll flush them out of their hiding places. They’ll have to face us. And then they’ll see the light. We’ll make them see it. They’ll pay for what they’ve done. And then we will be free—not only the souls of those they’ve harmed, but those of us that are left here to mourn them. We will be free once again in our homes.”

Harley was completely carried away with himself, and he was carrying everyone else away with him. I watched as now and then they raised their hands and said: “Tell it, preacher!” “Come on, preacher!” “Amen!”

I strained to find Daddy Hoyt or Linc or Mr. Deal in the crowd. I stood on tiptoes and peered above heads and shaded my eyes and studied faces. I pushed my way through the people, row by row, trying to find someone else to explain this to me, someone to put a stop to it.

Harley’s eyes were closed. His hands were held up to the sky. He said, “The kingdom of heaven was snatched away by violence. ‘Ven geance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’ We need to cast out the devil that’s entered our house. Now that this road has come through, that devil is free to come and go. We need to find the devil and cast him out and make certain that he can never enter our house again.”

“Praise the Lord!”

“Amen!”

I made my way toward the front of the crowd, pushing against people, bumping into one person after another. The crowd got thicker and tighter the nearer I got to Harley. Folks were trying to get closer to him, trying to hear him and see him. I was reaching for Daddy Hoyt, who was standing to the side, by the railroad tracks, with Mr. Deal and Reverend Broomfield and Reverend Nix and Linc and Uncle Turk. I pushed my way through until I reached them.

“Why is no one stopping him?” I said when I did. Daddy Hoyt held out one arm and pulled me close.

“We’re outnumbered,” said Mr. Deal.

Daddy Hoyt said, “As soon as they heard that an outlander attacked Janette Lowe, that was all the excuse they needed. They went up Blood Mountain and pulled the miners from their shacks, and then they went up there to the CCC camp and the band mill camp to round up the outlanders and send them off this mountain.”

Butch. I looked but didn’t see him anywhere.

“Mr. Deal called the sheriff’s office in Hamlet’s Mill and they’re sending someone up here,” said Linc. “They’re calling the police chief in Civility to help us out.”

“ ‘A house divided against itself will collapse.’ Are we divided?” The sun was disappearing over the trees, behind the mountains. Up on the mountain it would still be light, but down here in the valley, darkness was coming fast.

Some shouted, “No!”

“ ‘Every house or city that disagrees with itself shall not stand.’ Do we disagree?”

More people: “No!”

“ ‘The house that remains standing is the one that stands together.’ Do we stand together?”

Everyone: “Yes!”

“ ‘Whosoever is not with me is against me.’ Are you with me?”

“Yes!”

Something was happening in this valley, in the faces of these people I had known all my life. There was a hunger as they leaned in close for Harley’s every word. He was feeding them. There was a strange, unsettling energy in the place that made me want to leave, except that I couldn’t turn away from it.

Listening to Harley, I thought that this was maybe his greatest moment, that he had finally broke free of his mama and Damascus King and his own low and wicked past—a past spent searching for direction and vision and purpose. He had even broke free of Jesus. Harley Bright had finally arrived. But instead of thrilling me and making me love him, it made me hate him. I felt something turn in me and a coldness come over my heart like a door closing or a wall building fast, brick by brick, where there wasn’t one before. I saw him as a poisoned person, like someone filled up with snake venom. I thought: What if the poison starts to work on me, too?

Then I thought: Quick. These are the things to feel joyful about: