The Mandie Collection (3 page)

“Well, I suppose so. You could never make it on your own here with two girls and no man around. I certainly wish I could have saved Jim, Etta. He was a fine man. He'll be hard to replace.”

Mandie jumped up and ran out the back door. Joe came closely on her heels. She had tears in her eyes and didn't want Joe to see. He followed her as she raced up the mountain road to the cemetery where her father was buried and fell on her knees beside his grave, weeping uncontrollably.

“Mandie!” was all Joe said as he caught up with her, but she understood.

Finally she rose and wiped her tears on her apron. Joe held her small white hand.

“Just wait, Mandie. One day you and I will grow up and I will see that you are taken care of.”

“That's a long time, Joe. Things may get worse.”

“But I'll be around to help in the meantime,” he assured her.

Joe came to the Shaw house more frequently after that and went with Mandie to put wild flowers on her father's grave. It was always a silent affair, neither speaking until they were back down the rough road.

Only one month after Jim Shaw had been laid to rest, Etta Shaw and Zach Hughes went into town together and came back to say they were married, and he moved into their house.

Mandie had seen him around a lot. He belonged to the same church and he was always offering to bring supplies from the store for them, or take them somewhere. He had never paid much attention to Mandie, but evidently he had been doing a lot of thinking and she was shocked when she was told what was planned for her.

They were sitting around the supper table on Friday night, two weeks after the wedding, when it happened.

“Well, Amanda,” began Etta, clearing her throat. “We're afixin' to send you to live with the Brysons over yonder at Almond Station. They have a new baby and need some help.”

“Mama!” was all she could say.

“Now, no argument! It ain't but two hoots and a holler away. We can't make a livin' here as 'tis and you'll just be one less mouth to feed. They'll give you a better home than we got here and plenty to eat,” Etta told her.

“But, Mama—”

“Now, Amanda,” Zach Hughes cut in. “We have already made the arrangements. They'll be here atter you tomarra morning so git your thangs together tonight.”

Mandie, knowing she was beaten, fled from the table and went outside to sit in the dark under the chestnut trees. Snowball followed her and spread himself out across her feet.

She wished with ail her might that Uncle Ned would come to see her. He had promised to watch over her and he had shown up at least once a week since her father had died. But he had already been there on Wednesday night and she didn't have much hope.

“Please, God, help me!” she pleaded, her face turned toward the moonlit sky. “Even if you don't love me anymore, won't you please help me?”

“Papoose need help. Me help.” She couldn't believe her eyes when Uncle Ned stepped out from behind the tree in front of her and came forward. “Me help Papoose.”

“Uncle Ned, how did you know? I didn't expect you again this week.”

The old man sat down on the uncovered roots of the tree. “I know things. I hear things. I walk, no sound. I watch Papoose. Sit. Pow-wow. Tell trouble.”

She sat down next to the old man and put her head against his deerskin jacket. She repeated what her mother and Zach had just told her.

“I know. I listen to talk. So, I come back.” He put an arm around the child.

“But what can I do, Uncle Ned?”

“Papoose must go. Uncle Ned watch over her at new house. I promise Jim Shaw. I keep promise.”

“I wish you were really my uncle.” She smiled wistfully at the old Indian. “Then I could go live with you. You said I'm part Cherokee. Couldn't I just go home with you, Uncle Ned, please?”

“No, Papoose must get book learning. Jim Shaw say, you must go to school. When Papoose big squaw, then Papoose live with Cherokees.”

“Amanda! Amanda!” Etta was calling from the back door. “Where're you at? Git back in this house and rid up these dishes!”

The old man quickly rose. “I go now. I watch Papoose new house. Better squaw not see me. I come again—full moon.” He kissed the top of her head and silently disappeared into the darkness.

“Amanda!” Etta still yelled for her.

She walked slowly back to the house, the house where she had so many memories of her father, the house her father had built, now taken over by another man. She would leave because she would be forced to go, but she would come back someday. She would return to her father's house.

Before the first streak of light was in the sky the next morning, Mandie quietly rose, dressed, and hurried up the mountainside to her father's grave. Snowball bounced along before her.

She hurried, stumbling over the rough rocks, because she knew her mother would be looking for her. The weather was warmer now, but it was still chilly early in the morning. She held up her long skirt to keep it from getting wet in the early morning dew, and then seeing Indian Paintbrush blooming along the way, she quickly let go of her skirt and picked a handful of the bright flowers and ran on. Out of breath, she dropped on her knees by her father's grave and made a hole with a stick to plant the tiny bunch of flowers.

She sat back and folded her hands under her chin as she looked toward the sky. “Dear God, what time I am afraid I will put my trust in thee. I don't know what I did to cause you to take my daddy. I don't understand it, but I still love you.”

Rising, she fought back the tears and ran back down the dirt road. She saw Mr. and Mrs. Bryson arriving in their buggy as she hastily ran in the back door and was confronted by her mother.

“Where've you been? Why, your skirt's all wet.” Etta bent to touch the fabric. “I hear the Brysons now, so you'd better git your grits there in a hurry if you want any breakfast.”

Etta went on into the front room where Mandie could hear her greeting the visitors. She slid into a chair and spooned out grits into her plate. She ate quickly, without saying a word to Snowball, as she fed him beneath the table. It was all she could do to keep from choking on the food. She was so fearful of what lay ahead for her. She had never spent a night away from home in her life and now she was being sent away to live with strangers.

Etta stuck her head through the doorway, “Git a move on, Amanda. They're in a hurry.”

She jumped up, snatched Snowball up in her arms, and turned to face her mother defiantly. “I'm taking Snowball with me!”

“Well, take him. Be one less cat around here. Now come in here and meet the people you're goin' to live with.”

Etta pushed her forward into the front room. A very fat young woman, evidently dressed in her Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, sat near the door and a short, thin man stood nearby talking to Zach.

“My, my, she's an awful little thing,” the woman exclaimed. “Is she big enough to be any good around the house?” The man silently turned to listen and look.

“Course she is. She's eleven year old atter all. Be twelve next week,” Etta told the woman. “Just the age for you to train her the way you want.”

Etta gave the girl another shove. “Now git your things, Amanda.”

Mandie climbed the ladder and blindly crammed her few belongings into the flour sack her mother had given her. She picked up Snowball and went back downstairs. The Brysons were in a big hurry to get going.

Etta attempted to put an arm around the child. “Now you be a good girl. And remember we still love you.”

Amanda tore loose, fighting the tears and the hatred she felt at that moment and ran into the yard, the Brysons following. She did not look back as they rode off until she knew her mother would be gone from the yard. Then she wiped her eyes and took one long, last look at her father's house.

CHAPTER THREE

THE SECRET JOURNEY

Sarah Bryson was the same age as Mandie, and at first Mandie thought she had found a friend. But soon she learned that Sarah was doing things she shouldn't and blaming them on Mandie, telling lies and getting her into trouble. And the Brysons always believed their daughter. Mandie was punished with a hickory switch on her legs, which she had never experienced in her life. Her father had never allowed it. Mandie was desperately afraid of the Brysons and no matter what she did, she could not please them with anything.

The new baby was an adorable little boy named Andrew and Mandie loved him immediately. But he was not her only duty. She had to help hoe corn and bring in the cows. And with a sinking heart, she learned she would not be allowed to attend school. Furthermore, she had to stay home and watch Andrew while the Brysons went to church on Sunday!

Preacher DeHart came to preach on the first and third Sundays every month at the Brysons' church. The other Sundays he was at Maple Springs, the church Mandie belonged to back home. When he learned that the girl was living with the Brysons and was not allowed to come to church he came to see her.

“Remember the Sabbath Day to keep it holy, Amanda, even though you have to tend to the baby and can't go to church,” he told her, as they sat in the Brysons' kitchen on Sunday afternoon after dinner. “You mustn't do anything to sin on the Lord's Day.”

Mandie, always frightened by the big man's loud words, meekly said nothing, but, “Yes, sir, yes, sir.”

She had known the preacher all her young life and she believed the bad things he said would happen to her if she did not live the right kind of life.

Her birthday came and went and no one even mentioned it. She wished the days by until the full moon when Uncle Ned had promised to visit her.

She sat in the swing under a tree in the backyard that night waiting for him, and when he made his stealthy appearance, she ran to him crying, pouring out her troubles.

“Don't cry, Papoose,” he comforted her. “Cherokee think. I keep watch over Papoose. Cherokee think what to do.”

The old Indian returned each week, but had not been able to come up with any solution to her problems. However, after Mandie had been living there for a few weeks, she happened to overhear a conversation which gave her some hope.

She was singing to the baby as she tried to rock him to sleep in his cradle in the room she shared with him. Mr. and Mrs. Bryson were in the next room and did not know the door was open.

“What are we going to do with that girl? She just can't do nothing right. We're gonna hafta git shed of her,” Mrs. Bryson was speaking shrilly.

“Looks like Jim Shaw's brother over in Franklin would take care of her,” Mr. Bryson replied.

“You know there's been hard feelings between Jim and John Shaw ever since Jim married—”

“That don't make no difference,” Mr. Bryson interrupted. “This girl is the old man's niece and he ought to be responsible for her. He's got the money to support her.”

“Well, I'm sure he knew Jim died and he never went near them.” Mrs. Bryson changed the subject. “I think we orta git Dr. Woodard to look Andrew over. He's been lookin' mighty peaked lately.”

“Seems all right to me, but I'll send word tomorrow if you want,” her husband promised.

Mandie had stopped rocking the cradle when she heard the name and location of her father's brother. She would find him herself. And of all things—they were going to have Dr. Woodard come to see Andrew! That meant she could get a message to Joe. Maybe things weren't so hopeless after all. She didn't want to lose touch with Joe. He was her only connection with her father's house. Joe would be seeing her sister at school and would know what was going on.

Andrew had finally dropped off to sleep. She picked up an old catalogue lying nearby and tore off a corner of a page that didn't have much printing. She quickly found a pencil in her bag of personal belongings and wrote a message. “Going to Franklin to live with Daddy's brother, John. Terrible place here.”

Dr. Woodard came two days later and Mandie was overjoyed to see the old man as he pulled up in his buggy.

“And how are you, Amanda? Joe hasn't been over to your ma's lately, but he says your sister is mean as ever.” He laughed as he tweaked her long, blonde braid. “You all right?”

“I'm fine, Dr. Woodard,” she said, watching for the Brysons as she followed the doctor into the house. “Please give this to Joe for me,” she whispered, pulling the folded piece of paper out of her apron pocket and giving it to him. “Please don't tell anyone.”

Dr. Woodard winked at her and put the paper in his vest pocket. “Be glad to, Amanda. Now I have to see the baby.”

It was full moon that night and the old Indian showed up after suppertime. Mandie had rocked Andrew to sleep and was sitting in the yard when he appeared out of the trees. She got up and ran to him.

They sat down on the tree stump near the big black washpot hanging on its fork, with the two washtubs on a nearby bench shielding them from view.

“I have news, Uncle Ned,” Mandie told him. “I overheard Mr. and Mrs Bryson talking about me. They said my Uncle John lives in Franklin. I have no idea which way that is. I need Cherokee help to get there, because I am going to live with him.”

A big smile broke across the old man's face. “I glad. I am. Papoose go to uncle. No more trouble. Cherokee help. Find way. Bring food.” He was almost as excited as the girl.

“When, Uncle Ned? I need to go as soon as possible. These people here don't like me and I'm afraid they might send me somewhere else.”

“Next moon, I come back. I go now. Find way. Make plans with Cherokee. Must hurry.” He rose.

“Thank you, Uncle Ned. Thank all of your people, or I should say, my people. They are my people, too, if they were my daddy's people.”

“Yes, you Cherokee papoose. You go live with real uncle. Go to book school,” he told her.

She wiped a tear of joy from her eyes, as he silently stole away into the darkness. “Thank you, dear God, thank you,” she whispered as she looked up at the sky full of twinkling stars.