Quilly Hall. Benjamin W. Farley
now? Huh? Tell me that! Or can you?”
“Mama, stop it! Stop acting like a shrew. Control yourself,” Uncle Everett contested. “Pearl, we’ll see a doctor first thing in the morning. Don’t worry. You can stay at my place, if you have to. And that’s a promise!”
“Yes, sir!” she snuffled back her tears with gratitude.
“Mama, you should be ashamed of yourself! Ashamed!” he reiterated.
He glanced toward my mother and then down at his feet. “Come on, Rachel. Let’s help these people in their house, before they start wallowing in more pity and blame.” All that he said with an angry glare toward his mother and with embarrassment toward my own. With a heaviness of spirit, all six of us entered the house by way of the front porch. Even Pearl. Aunt Rachel held her arm, while Uncle Everett carried Aunt Rachel’s two suitcases in and set them down in the hallway. As we entered, I looked up toward the old Captain. Even his countenance seemed a bit downcast. He was a man for all seasons. I sometimes felt that he actually watched over us at night and guarded the perimeter of the farm. Quelle stood stately beside her fountain, demur and quiet, watering the pigeons. At least we were home. We were all home. And that was something to regale, however dysfunctional the family might be.
In spite of my grandmother’s outbursts, she had no intentions of relinquishing Pearl. She personally rode into town with Pearl and Uncle Everett to see the doctor. When they returned, she evinced a calmness that betrayed her earlier invective and churlish remarks. “Yes, we will do it!” she chirped. “We will raise the child as one of our own, or at least until Pearl can marry and settle down. It’s all settled. There’ll be no more dissent, no discussion or debate! I’ve made up my mind. Yes. As the Bible says: ‘You meant it for evil, but the Lord meant it for good.’ Who knows what this child might become? But God pity it! Poor little darling! What a start in life!”
Uncle Everett just looked at his mother and shook his head. “Jesus!” he hissed under his breath. He tussled my hair with his left hand, hugged his mother, Pearl, Aunt Rachel, and, lastly, my mother. “Try getting along, huh! You women will be the death of me yet!” He smiled and retuned to his car—a black Buick with rusting running boards—and prepared to drive off. “Call me, if you need me,” he said to my mother. We stood back and watched him drive away.
“You know, Mr. Biggety?” my mother addressed me with a smile. “I think he was serious about taking Pearl home with him. He gets awfully lonely, you know.”
“Didn’t he ever get married?” I queried. “Didn’t he want a wife?”
“Oh, yes-siree! You bet your bottom dollar! He was married, honey. Married to a beautiful town girl, from Johnson City. But they quarreled all the time, and your uncle was different then. Moody, a hothead, drank a lot, always had to have his way. She left him after two years. You were just a little boy.”
I stared down the road after him, where he had turned passed the springhouse, before heading back to town. I waved, but the big willow tree and the roof of the apple house blocked his view.
Preparations for the wedding began almost the following day. Dresses were brought from town by taxi, tried on, rejected, returned, and new ones delivered, all within the same day. Mr. Chappels would come in the evenings, dine with us, steal off for an hour or so with my mother; then he would drive back to his house in town. Menus were discussed, cakes baked, cured hams sliced and placed in the refrigerator and some even stored in an old icebox on the porch. Still, the day of the wedding came like a thief in the night. “Get up,” whispered my mother. “Time to get up, sleepy head.” An air of buoyancy trilled in her voice. “We have to be at the church by noon. The wedding’s at two o’clock. You’re going to be the ring bearer. Yes. All you have to do is walk in front of Uncle Everett. I’ll be holding his arm. He’s going to give me away. Now get some breakfast. Then we’ll wash up and get you dressed.”
Unbeknown to me, my Aunt Rachel and mother had purchased a boy’s long gray Prince Albert jacket, striped pants, black shoes, stiff white shirt, and black tie for me to wear. I must have gone into shock. I winced and wiggled and ground my teeth the entire time my grandmother and Aunt Rachel forced me into the clothes. “Now here’s the pillow. Get out there in the hallway and practice marching slowly in here,” Grandmother coaxed me from the living room. “But where’s the ring?” I objected. “Never you mind,” she replied. “Marion will provide it before the wedding.”
Uncle Everett came for us and drove us into town in his Buick. People I had never seen before were queuing up at the church door. I was dragged along and placed in line, after everyone had been seated. Colorful flowers filled the sanctuary and bright candles glowed from glass globes placed along the right aisle. From out of somewhere, the organist struck up a flamboyant march. Mr. Chappels and the minister stepped out of a side door near the pulpit. Suddenly, I was pushed forward, and Uncle Everett and my mother guided me toward the minister. I don’t remember what was said, or how long the service lasted, but Uncle Everett kissed my mother before he placed her gloved fingers in Mr. Chappels’ hands. She dropped her bouquet, to a dither of light laughter. Uncle Everett retrieved it for her.
The reception at home was tumultuous. I strutted around in my stiff costume, enamoring myself to everyone, while the guests filed by to hug my mother and shake Mr. Chappels’ hand. Everywhere, everyone balanced ham biscuits on a dainty plate in one hand and clasped a glass of champagne in the other. Aunt Rachel watched these glasses of bubbly essence with an envious twitch on her lips. Nevertheless, she retained a gracious smile and helped Pearl and my grandmother replenish the guests’ plates. Three tall white layer cakes were required to satisfy the crowd’s demand. The Presbyterian minister appeared to be a little tipsy, but he smiled each time I walked by. His wife had a huge pink orchid in her dress’s lapel and chatted familiarly with people. “You will soon be coming to my class,” she said.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“To learn the Children’s Catechism! Hasn’t your mother told you?”
“No ma’am,” I replied. “What’s a catechism?”
“Oh, you’ll learn!” she beamed. “It’s a beautiful little book, just for children like you.”
I must admit I was stunned and not impressed with her sincerity. If it were a book, maybe we had it in our library.
“Yes, you’ll love it,” she assured me.
If ever a child was shocked, I was totally unprepared for what happened next. Suddenly, people began to congregate in the yard. My mother had disappeared and now came down the stairs with a valise in one hand and her flowers in the other. Outside on the porch, she turned her back and flung the flowers to a group of shrieking women, then raced to Mr. Chappels’ car, waved, ran back to kiss me good-bye, then got in the vehicle with him, and drove off. Cans bounced behind the car, and red and white streamers fluttered in the air. I ran across the lawn toward the springhouse. My mother was leaving, and I hadn’t the slightest idea where she was going, or if and when she’d come back. “Mama! Mama!” I called to the guests’ delight.
I stopped and fought back a well of hot tears that begged for release.
I felt a strong hand on my right shoulder. “It’s all right, Tommy,” said Uncle Everett. “She’ll be back.” He rubbed his left hand through my hair. When I glanced up, there were tears in his eyes, too.
Chapter Six
When my mother and stepfather returned, we moved to his house in town. My grandmother had tried to prepare me for the event.
“Now, when they come back, you’ll be moving to town. Think of it! You’ll be near your school. The theatre will be only a few blocks up the street. You’ll be able to attend the movies every Saturday. The drug store, grocery store, bank, post office, everything will be right there. And you can watch the trains from your back yard. And when you’re old enough, you’ll be able to ride a bicycle, all by yourself, anywhere you want. And you’ll be closer to Uncle Everett’s, the library, why, everything! And, best of all,