Part 19 (2/2)

Verdie got the scare of her life. Hal was home, of course, and he got his gun and shot up in the air. That scared him away.”

”For pity sakes!”

”Men in the settlement met at our house yesterday evening, but Doctor Elton had to leave before they decided just what to do.”

Mama and my aunts were forever talking so I couldn't understand. Almost every time they got together one of them would mention ”a little pitcher with big ears.” They'd never tell me where the pitcher was. Finally, I quit asking.

”Is Verdie coming this evening?”

”She can't,” Aunt Lovie said. ”They've got company from town, so she sent word to get me to take the minutes. 'Course Lida Belle Bailey won't be here either. She never does meet with us any more. Do y'all realize that woman hasn't put her foot in this church in over three months? I think the whole Bailey family ought to be brought before the congregation, myself. If they're not gonna attend services, we ought to 'whop 'em out,' as the saying is.”

”Well, Lovie,” Mama told my older aunt, ”I found out why Lida Belle won't come to Missionary Society. She's afraid we'll call on her to read.”

”Read?”

”She don't know how!”

”For goodness sakes! I knew Wes never went to school a day in his life. That's what worried me and Dan both when he got elected Justice of the Peace. But I figured surely Lida Belle had had some schooling. Y'all reckon that's how come all their boys are so backward in their books?”

”Yes,” Aunt Vic said, ”Mister Shepherd told me yesterday, when we started getting up the Christmas program, that the boys don't get any help at home. Mister Shepherd thought it was a wonder the three of them ever learned their letters.”

Aunt Lovie got up and moved closer to the heater. ”Nannie, did you know that Lida Belle and Wes have let Addie Mae quit school and go off down in Louisiana?” Aunt Lovie always knew everything about everybody, especially if it was sort of bad.

”Yes, Lovie. Wes was telling Jodie that his aunt begged them to let her come and spend a while.”

”That's what Lida Belle and Wes are saying, but I bet, there's more to it than that! Y'all just wait and see!”

”Well, goodness,” Mama said, ”let's don't sit here all evening talking about the Baileys and their problems. And Ward Lawson! Pa always said church is the place to talk up the good-not the bad.” Mama poked 'nother piece of wood into the heater. ”Vic, read us the letters!”

Aunt Vic opened her satchel and took out a thick envelope and her eyegla.s.ses. ”Speaking of the bad, I didn't know till I read this letter from Pa that he ever knew that sorry Ward's daddy.

But he did. He preached the old man's funeral!”

”Mama, when're you-”

”Bandershanks, hon, you sit still and be quiet. Aunt Vic's gonna read us a letter from our Alabama cousin and one your Grandpa Dave wrote years ago-before you were even born. Vic, when was Pa's letter dated?”

”He wrote it May 7, 1903, just seven weeks to the day before he died. Let's see-Cuddin Lucy headed her letter: 'New Springs, Alabama, November 6, 1918.'”

Aunt Vic flattened the pages and began to read.

My dear Cousins Victoria, Lovonia, and Nantelle,

It is my sad duty to inform you that my beloved father-your uncle Elijah-pa.s.sed to his reward some ten days ago. We children have naturally been grief-stricken, but we thank G.o.d that He saw fit to take Pa away without pain or a lingering illness.

He breathed his last, peacefully. And on last Sunday, we laid him to rest beside Mama in the graveyard at New Springs Church, where he had been a member over sixty-one years.

This week when we went through Pa's personal effects, we found a lengthy letter, the last one he had received from your own dear father. It must have been written just shortly before Uncle Dave's death. So I am sending it back to you all, knowing you will treasure it. Parts of the letter are so unusual that I made a copy for my own children to have in years to come.

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