On Agate Hill Read online

  And now look, there is Washington getting wood from the woodpile for Liddys kitchen while Liddy sits out on that bench Virgil made and snaps beans in the pan on her lap. Away over there is teenytiny Daddy Rex propped up in the door of his cabin like a little old doll, his white hair stands out all around his face like a dandylion gone to seed. Whose papa is he? I asked Old Bess once and she burst out laughing and said, Law child, he is nobodys daddy in particular that we know of, it is just his name. Liddy sings, Going down in the water O Lord, as she snaps the beans. I can just barely hear her.

  But I can hear everything that happens in the parlor just fine, for sound travels right up here along the chimney space. I can hear them all calling me now.

  Molly! It is Uncle Junius deep voice. Molly where are you?

  Molly dear, Nora Gwyn calls, we have to leave, please come and tell us good bye. Where in the world do you imagine she has got to? she asks Uncle Junius, who says he does not know.

  But I can tell you one thing, he says clear as a bell, he must be standing right by the mantel, she has gotten wild as a March hare since Fannie died, I swear I dont know what is to become of her.

  She is not a pleasant child, Mister Gwyn says.

  Oh I heard him perfectly.

  Now dear that is not true at all, my lovely Nora says, but you must always remember that she has been through a great deal. In fact I have been thinking just this afternoon that perhaps we could send for her once we get settled in Tennessee, and she could come to stay with us for a time, Junius, and get a proper education, what do you think?

  Oh yes! It is all I can do not to cry out. Oh yes! as I would love that. But then in the next moment my heart is pounding and I am terrified and thinking, No, No, No. I know I can not go. For I am the only one left in the world who remembers these ghosts, who thinks of them now, and if I go then they will be gone too. For ever and utterly gone, as Mamma used to say about Perdido. So I can not do it.

  I can not leave them now.

  But Mister Gwyn will not permit it anyhow. He says, Why this is completely out of the question Nora. You will have an entire school to run.

  Ah but that is a woman for you, isnt it Robert? Uncle Junius says. The source of every good and generous and civilizing influence, we should be living in caves in the darkness without them. It is a lovely idea Nora, he says, but you must not fret about Molly. Molly and Junius both will be well taken care of I assure you.

  But your health Junius, she says.

  Nora I implore you! Mister Gwyn says.

  Forgive me if I speak too bluntly, Nora goes on. I can imagine how she puts her lips together just so. She says, It is obvious that you can not possibly take care of Molly and little Junius and Spencer and this entire house hold, Junius, even with Liddy and the rest, it is just too much. Why no man could do it. You need someone to take care of you now.

  Nora! Mister Gwyn says in a mean way.

  You are a kind and compassionate woman Nora, Uncle Junius says. And you Sir are a lucky man, he tells Mister Gwyn. I can just picture how that gentleman paces before the fireplace all dark in the face and glowering. I know that Uncle Junius stands leaning over the back of the blue wing chair or against the mantel, a huge figure of a man whose frock coat hangs on him now as on a scarecrow. His breathing fills any room. Selena Vogell has been a great help to me, he says.

  Well of course, but, Nora Gwyn says.

  I can not say a thing.

  However, I do have a bit of news which may set your mind at rest, at least for the time being. Uncle Junius stops to breathe.

  I can not think what this news could possibly be.

  Yesterdays post brought a letter from my sister Cecelia—

  The one in Alabama, Nora Gwyn says.

  Yes, Uncle Junius says. Her husband died recently, and she is determined to come here for a visit in about a month.

  Nora Gwyn claps her hands. O that will be wonderful. Perhaps she can stay on awhile.

  Well we shall see about that. Sissy always had very definite ideas about everything. Uncle Junius voice has a smile in it now. He says, I suppose it will be good for Molly, in any case. Of course Sissy knew Molly’s mother, Alice, as a girl back in South Carolina.

  Oh really? Nora Gwyn says.

  Alice and I were cousins, Uncle Junius says, and Nora Gwyn says, Oh I had forgotten that.

  Uncle Junius clears his throat. Well we were more than that, he says. In fact I would have married Alice if she would have had me, but she chose Charles Petree instead. He was the more dashing specimen, I suppose.

  I am surprised that Alice chose to come here, then, Nora Gwyn says.

  Alice knew that she could all ways come to me, Uncle Junius said. No one ever said no to Alice, as you may recall. I knew he was smiling.

  But Fannie—

  Fannie was a remarkable woman, Uncle Junius said. Her wisdom and compassion knew no end. She snatched me out of the darkness that had been my habitual mode, and I followed her in all things, as a beacon. Of course she knew all about Alice. But she pitied poor Alice, and it was at her urging that we took them in, though in all ways it was the correct thing to do. I relied upon Fannie utterly. And now that she is gone, I tell you plainly, I fear I am losing my way. Here he stands breathing and after a time continues, I have had such thoughts, I can not tell you.

  O Junius, Nora says.

  You must turn back to God, Mister Gwyn says.

  Robert, I can not, says Uncle Junius. For any God who has done what he has done is not a God I care to associate with much less worship. Nor would any God worth his salt have anything to do with the likes of me.

  Pray with me now, Junius, Mister Gwyn says.

  I can not. Uncle Junius sounds like the end of the world.

  I shall pray for you then, Mister Gwyn says like it is all up to him.

  And I — for you know that Fannie would not want to see you so disconsolate, Junius. She would not want to see you suffering so.

  And now we must leave, Nora, Mister Gwyn says in the voice people use when they really mean it.

  Oh but where is Molly? she says. Molly! she calls, and then she says, But you must find a way for her to attend school eventually Junius, you do know she is very bright.

  What Molly needs is discipline and a firm hand, says Mister Gwyn.

  No one answers that.

  Nora Ive told you I will do the best I can, but as you have correctly surmised it is all I can do to keep this place going, Uncle Junius says. In fact I am like to lose it. I will tell you frankly, were it not for the cash money Alice left, I should not have paid the tax on Agate Hill these past few years.

  I remembered Fannie saying, Cash is as scarce as hens teeth.

  And now we are at the end, Uncle Junius says in his dark voice.

  Oh but surely, Nora Gwyn says, and then they move to where I can not hear them, until Noras musical voice floats up to me like a song. Good bye, good bye, and it is so stupid, I do not mean to cry, I am a big girl and too old to cry so please excuse me, but I know I will never see her again.

  Every time somebody leaves here, we never see them again.

  I do appreciate all that you have done for her Nora . . .

  Why it has been a pleasure Junius . . .

  Their voices fade as the front door opens and now I peep out the other side to see them climb up into the carriage. Washington stands holding the horses heads. Nora waves and Mister Gwyn whips up those nice gray horses harder than he has to as they trot off down the lane.

  Dust hangs in the air a long time after they are gone.

  Uncle Junius watches them out of sight. He puts out a hand to steady himself on one of the urns which sit on either side of the steps, two great urns where Fannies flowers used to grow but now they are full of weeds and ivy which is taking over everything. I think Uncle Junius does not see any of this. I think perhaps he goes back in his mind to see things as they used to be, this busy house where everyone had a place including me and all things turned around Aunt
Fannie like the earth and the moon and the planets turn around the sun. I know Uncle Junius is sick but it is more than that. Look how he stands on the steps with his hands hanging down by his sides in that curious way he has now, like he does not know what to do with them.

  Or perhaps the circle makes him think of that scary night that happened here before we came. Mamma told it to me, as she told me everything.

  It was a summer evening and the house at Agate Hill was jam packed full of visitors as always, little children already asleep on a pallet upstairs while the others were finishing supper such as it was, Mamma always said when she told this story. For of course there was never enough to eat in those days but that night as there was company it was hopping john which Mamma herself always scorned as negro food. At the table there was Aunt Fannie and a big bunch of Ravenels from Charleston who were passing through and a funny little Quaker schoolteacher Elizabeth Lott who stayed for a while, Uncle Junius thought highly of Quakers, and the big girls, Rachel and Julia, and Mamma Marie and Aunt Mitty who had come in from the country to see the Ravenels. Mamma Marie and Aunt Mitty never come in from the country now, we have to go out there to see them which I love to do. Uncle Junius was not present that evening having gone to Raleigh to the Legislature, or maybe to court, he was very important then. There was even dessert, a Confederate cake as Aunt Fannie called it because they had to use sorghum instead of sugar.

  The big girls were excused to run outside while the grown ups lingered on to talk of the War and those that were dead and gone. The Ravenels told a terrible story of a widow smothered to death in her sleep by her slaves who left wearing her clothes and taking all her valuables.

  But what else can we expect? asked Miss Olivia Ravenel the tall thin maiden aunt with frizzy black hair and a head shaped like an egg, according to Mamma.

  But Miss Lott said, I beg to differ Olivia, there are criminals and killers among all people of every race, why look at what our very own home guard did to that boy who would not tell where his father was hid . . . Miss Lott was very insistent in manner, and without Uncle Junius there to guide it, the conversation would surely have taken a turn for the worse, but just then Julia and Rachel came running in from the piazza crying, Mamma! Mamma! Come quick!

  Why who could it possibly be, at this time of night? Aunt Fannie wondered, but jumped up and ran out with the rest onto the piazza and into the warm windy night, a night in the dark of the moon. Olivia Ravenel said she felt funny out there immediately and did not like it. The wind jerked at her skirts and pulled at her hair, threatening to pull it loose from her ivory combs.

  I am going back inside, she said but Fannie said, O stay Olivia, the air is good for you, you ate scarcely any supper, now this will brace you up. Here, take my shawl and stay just a moment longer.

  So Miss Ravenel agreed.

  I dont hear a thing silly girls, Aunt Mitty said. She is bossy and very severe.

  We heard it, we heard it! Be quiet, the girls implored, for truly it is possible to hear someone coming from a long way off due to a trick of geography, as Uncle Junius has always said.

  Hush then, Fannie said, and for a moment all was still save for the rushing wind.

  Why I do believe I hear something, old Mister Ravenel said.

  But just then a brand new wind, a cold wind, came blowing onto the piazza from a different direction altogether with such force as to knock the candle out leaving all of them there in the rushing darkness.

  This is when they heard it, in the dark.

  Oh listen, Olivia Ravenel cried.

  What? Fannie said.

  There! Miss Ravenel cried. Dont you hear it?

  What is it Olivia? Aunt Mitty asked sharply. What do you hear?

  Oh Lord please let it be my boys, Fannie begged, for of course they were still in the War. Lewis! Spencer! She called into the wind, and now all could hear the pounding of a horses hoofs in the dark at the bottom of the yard coming up the lane and getting louder and louder as the horse drew near.

  Who is it? Ho there, Mister Ravenel called out.

  Stop! cried Fannie.

  Who is there? Mister Ravenel called again.

  But no answer came.

  The sound of the hoofs was deafening in front of the house. The wind blew Aunt Fannies shawl right off Miss Ravenels shoulders and off the piazza and into the Dutch iris bed. Mama had to hold her skirt down.

  Boys! Fannie screamed and tried to run toward the sound. The Ravenels and Miss Lott held her back. Please, Fannie wept but by then the hoofbeats were going away, getting fainter and fainter down the lane until they were heard no more. The wind died down.

  But though they all went inside and lit the lamps, Fannie could not stop crying. This was not like her at all of course. Something awful has happened, she said again and again, for she knew it. She could not be persuaded to the contrary though everybody said it was only someones horse that had gotten loose, just a runaway horse, probably it was a traveler staying the night out here in the country some place, and the horse was lost.

  No. Fannie went over to stand right in front of Aunt Mitty and bent over so she could look into her eyes. You know that is not true Mitt. It is a sign of death, isnt it? Fannie said this just came to her.

  Then all the ladies started crying and bunching together and Mister Ravenel had to pat them. Julia and Rachel clung to each other on the horsehair sofa and wailed as one.

  Fools, Aunt Mitty said. This is all nonsense. You are over tired Fannie Hall, now see what you have done. Go to bed, all of you.

  Pray for them, Fannie tried to say, but suddenly she was too tired to speak and did as she was told, putting the girls to bed first.

  The letter came a week later, saying that Lewis Polk Hall had exhibited great valor but died crossing the open fields to the stone wall on Cemetery Ridge at Gettysburg July 3, 1863. Aunt Fannie read the letter and fainted dead away.

  And this is my mammas story of the ghost horse that came in a storm on the very night of Lewis Polks death to tell us.

  So how can Uncle Junius not remember this as he stands on the piazza steps to tell the Gwyns good bye? He stands there a good long while shading his eyes from the sun. Then he walks back across the piazza and into the house and shuts the door behind him and calls me one more time. Molly!

  Then he calls, Selena!

  Then I can hear his slow hollow tread through the passage and out the back door and now I can see him from my cubbyhole window, see the top of his white head and then his back as he passes the brick kitchen and pauses to take off his dark jacket and put it over his arm. He stands there to breathe for a while. Then slowly he crosses the yard and passes the well and walks down past the garden and the cabins to the tenant house.

  I have never seen Uncle Junius do this before. I have never seen him walk over there.

  It takes him the longest time to get across the yard for he breathes so bad now, and walking hurts him. He drags his leg as well. Why Uncle Junius has suddenly got to be an old, old man! I realize as I watch him. This scares me. In fact he looks like a man in a white shirt in a painting of a man in a white shirt walking across a green yard in the hot still part of the day, he has to stop from time to time to rest, it takes him forever to get there. And there is no one else in this picture at all no one present to help him, not Old Bess nor Virgil nor Liddy nor Rom, just nary a soul, as Virgil would say.

  All of a sudden I realize that I am not in this picture either.

  I am no where, a ghost girl.

  Uncle Junius goes to stand at the gate of the low picket fence surrounding the tenant house. He puts his hand on the latch and then they must see him for the door of the house opens up like Aunt Mittys coo coo clock from Germany and out they all come tumbling, tough little Godfrey mean as a snake and her two girls Victoria and Blanche, dont you think these are fancy names for the tenant farmers children? as Rachel pointed out.

  But Selena has got notions, in fact she is full to bursting with them.

  Se
lena is the tenant farmers wife.

  Now that would be Mister Vogell of German descent, but where is he? Up and vanished into thin air one hot day last summer while Selena and the rest of us were picking peaches and cutting them up and drying them out on the scaffold in the sun. Selena told Aunt Fannie that Mister Vogell went to the field and never came home, and has never been heard from since. He did not show a sign of leaving before he went, according to Selena. It is hard to imagine Mister Vogell doing a thing so out of the ordinary, for he was a thick glum man like a side of beef who never said anything at all. He had an extra big head like a melon with a straight shock of yellow hair that fell into his eyes and gave him a stupid appearance, like a window with the shade pulled down. He wore his pants hiked way up high to show his fat white ankles. He was considerable older than Selena.

  I just can not see why she ever married him, why she is an attractive woman, Fannie used to say, and Uncle Junius said, Now Fannie, we will never know what kind of a situation she came from, nor what has happened to her along the way. And it is true that those two daughters look very different from Mister Vogell, being dark and curly headed like gypsy girls. Selena herself is dark complected and dark haired, a tall woman strong as an ox. She can work all day long in the field then split wood like a man, many is the time I have looked out my cubbyhole window here to see Selena out by the wood pile with her skirt hitched up and the ax upraised, and the ringing of the ax lasts all morning long. She is a good worker, and with those children, it is clear that Uncle Junius could never kick her out. It would not be in his nature. So Selena is still in the tenant house.