The Storycatcher (8 page)

Here was an adult admitting she didn’t know everything.

“He should have let me go,” Mama continued. “I would have stayed, and then nothing, nothing would have happened. My life would have turned out better.” Her words slurred, and then she slid very ladylike onto her side.

“Shut up, Lydia!” Daddy yelled.

“You shut up!” I stood as tall as I could, balling my fingers into fists.

Miss Tuggle touched my shoulder. “I need you to go to the Connors’ cabin. Tell Mr. Connor you need his truck. Tell him to come quick.” She waited a second. “Don’t worry. Pain makes people talk out of their heads. Your mama will be fine.”

I looked at my father, and wished I were a man. If I were, I’d kill him. Men were strong and could justify the taking of a life. But I was a fifteen-year-old girl, who missed a colored boy so bad she was going crazy a little at a time.

MAMA HAD TO STAY
in the hospital down in Asheville. I refused to leave her side. Amanda told me to go on home with Daddy and she’d stay, but I only gave her a mean look. “My mama needs me.” I nearly spit the words at her.

Amanda never seemed a bit bothered. “I’m going home to Shelly, then. That is, if you don’t need me.”

Of course I needed her and she probably knew it, but Shelly needed her worse, being all alone up there. “How you getting home?”

“Miss Tuggle. She said I could ride with her.” Her face was soft, and I wanted nothing more than to place my head on her shoulder.

I nodded and rubbed Mama’s hand. She was sound asleep. “Maybe she can come home tomorrow.” I looked at the cast on her foot.

“Maybe, child.” Amanda touched her fingertips against my shoulder. “I’ll be back with your daddy tomorrow.”

I nodded. Divided. I was the child in the Bible the two women fought to keep so bad that the judge decided the baby needed to be cut in half for each woman. I was two halves. “She’ll get better tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am, she will.” And Amanda was gone out the door, but not before she ran her fingers through my hair one time.

MAMA WOKE THAT NIGHT,
stroking my hair where I fell asleep with my head on the bed. “Faith, get up here beside me.”

In my sleepy state, I didn’t pretend to be too old to cuddle to my mama. My body fit right next to hers. Her eyes were clear. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Yes, sweetie. I’m touched you stayed,” she whispered.

“I couldn’t leave you alone.”

“Amanda would have stayed.”

I shrugged. “Shelly would have been by herself in that cabin.”

Mama nodded. “Yes, I guess you’re right.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“I know the storm was bad. I can still hear that tree falling.”

“Do you remember any of the things you said to Miss Tuggle?”

Mama was still. “No, what did I say?”

She smelled of antiseptic, but underneath was a hint of her flowery perfume. “You talked about how Daddy wouldn’t let you go to my grandmother’s funeral.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

“I guess I must have been out of my mind in pain.”

I placed my head on her shoulder. “How did you and Amanda meet, Mama?”

Mama relaxed. “Well now, that was a story, Miss Faith, a story you’ve heard too many times.” She grinned.

“If you’re too tired.”

“I’ll talk for a while.” Mama adjusted a pillow under her head. “It was right after I came to live in New Orleans with your daddy.”

“You were from Atlanta.” I finished for her.

Her laugh was like a whisper. “Yes. Atlanta is the best place in the world.”

“But Daddy made you go live with his family.”

“It was never a question.” She took a breath. “The first time I saw Amanda, she was bent over in the bishop’s flower garden, weeding. The sun stretched over her sturdy back. A strong posture meant an upright person. Or so my mama always said. I stood on the edge of the perfect rows of daffodils and purple irises. A small boy played in the dirt, probably catching hookworm or something, close to a goldenrod bush in full bloom.”

“That was Will.” I breathed in deep, avoiding the ache.

“Amanda looked up and a flash of knowing crossed her face. Her hair was relaxed into soft curls. The copper color of her skin warmed her features. She settled back on her knees, not a bit surprised I was there.

“I gave her my name and told her the bishop’s wife suggested she might be interested in a new position. I offered to pay her whatever she was being paid plus more. I wore my dark-brown dress with the white Peter Pan collar. My shoes were tiny little leather affairs. It was like I was the one who was looking for a job.

“Amanda told me she had seen me coming in a dream she had and then went about digging her bare hands into the black soil. She was put out that the bishop’s wife hadn’t told her to find a new job. I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to take my offer when she looked at Will and said, ‘Go find that rabbit hole you was playing in yesterday.’

“He turned a white-toothed grin on me. ‘Mama says I can keep that rabbit if I catch him.’ Lord help, he was the cutest thing.”

“Will always had a softness for animals.” I laughed just to keep from crying.

“Now, Amanda was exactly like she’s always been. She gave him a firm look and shooed him off. I was so taken with his open, sweet manner, I told him he had to promise to show me if he caught the rabbit. Then I gave my best smile to Amanda, whose face turned softer around the eyes.

“ ‘Don’t give him hope,’ she said. ‘The missus would take offense with him if he came wagging a rabbit to the door.’ But she didn’t really sound mad at me. Will ran off in the direction of the shed. That’s when Amanda asked me what kind of job I was offering.

“I touched my stomach that pushed tightly against my dress. I was backward in many ways. Amanda laughed at me and cut right through all the properness, telling me she could be a good maid and nurse.

“See, the cook at your grandfather’s house claimed Amanda was a witch. I needed a witch with the way my life was turning out. I told her I was new in New Orleans and who your father was.

“Amanda tilted her head and seemed to pull me into some kind of warmth. ‘All the maids in town be knowing about your husband, Mrs. Dobbins. I be knowing him just as good.’ Amanda gave me a real smile that revealed perfectly straight white teeth. ‘There be things about me you don’t know, wouldn’t like. I’m to myself and need my own place. I’ll not live with you in your house.’

“Had I been older, more experienced in running a home, I would have understood Amanda had stepped over the line, but I needed her and was so stupid I didn’t even notice. Instead, I offered her the rooms above the carriage house.

“ ‘We might be good together. Time will tell,’ Amanda told me. She had the softest smile, not like now, strained and put on for us.”

I shifted on the hospital bed so I could see Mama’s face. “Tell me about the night I was born.” This was my favorite part of the story.

“It was late summer when my little baby came into the world. Your daddy was away in Georgia on a revival trip. A hailstorm just like we had today broke several of the windows in our fine house. That beautiful baby came into a world with a blind fury of horrible pain, so bad I came in and out of consciousness. Amanda stood right with me almost the whole night, giving me her spells. Finally, I passed out cold. Amanda was left to bring the baby into the world on her own.”

I couldn’t help to think about how Mama said we came to North Carolina by way of Georgia.

“I woke with a dizzy head. Amanda stood over me, smiling. The baby girl was wrapped in a blanket, clean as she could be. Her face was round and plump. She had your daddy’s nose and eyes. A sweet version of him. There was no denying who she belonged to.

“ ‘You swore I was having a boy, Amanda. Your spell didn’t work.’ I laughed at her. But I had so wanted a girl. The door creaked open and Will eased up to the bed. He wore a worried look like a little old man.

“ ‘Here’s this baby just as fine as can be!’ Amanda held the baby girl close to him.” Mama stopped talking.

I breathed in this part of the story, imagining Will worrying over me.

“He looked at you for the longest and then touched your cheek. See, Amanda was sure he was what she called a reader, someone who can see people’s futures. She asked him what he saw.” Again Mama waited, as if she might have been finished for the night.

This was a new part to the story. I held my breath, praying she would continue.

“ ‘I see me two girls in one.’ He always sounded like a grown-up and he was quite sure of himself. Now his prediction scared me to death, and it must have shown on my face.

“ ‘He probably sees her as a grown woman too. He still be young,’ Amanda said as she placed you in my arms. Then she issued one of her warnings. ‘Mrs. Dobbins,’ she said, ‘the hail be the omen tonight.’

“But I was humming some silly little song with no name to my daughter and didn’t even have omens on my mind.” Mama smiled at me.

I was quiet a minute thinking about the new part of the story. “Maybe the hailstorm today was part of the omen.”

Mama’s breathing was heavy. “Who knows? I’ve come to know Amanda’s magic quite well. She always knows what she’s talking about.” Mama patted my shoulder and fell off to sleep. I snuggled close to her, pushing my thoughts about Amanda, Will, and all that had changed over the past three weeks right out of my head. For that moment I was with Mama and I was safe.

I
SHOWED UP AT THE
dock that afternoon because a voice came in my dreams and said a boy was coming to meet me. I learnt a long time before to follow that voice wherever it pointed me. It was two weeks after them white folks had been murdered in Darien, and everyone talked about it so much they forgot who else died for no dern reason at all. Those on Sapelo didn’t breathe a word about the mess. We just swallowed down the story and pretended to forget. We all was hurt to the bone because of our own dead man. So I knew when that boy arrived he’d be walking into a mess of sadness.

He came on Mr. Reynolds’s shiny new boat, the one he used for trips to and from the island. When the boat came pulling up, I thought it didn’t mean a thing. Mr. Reynolds was always bringing folks over for a visit. They was the busiest people I’d ever seen. The boat driver was Cotter, who called himself working for Mr. Reynolds in one fashion or
another. He was nice enough when he felt like it, but some days he was meaner than one of our wild hogs. He docked the boat, pushed his fancy captain’s hat back on his head, and pointed at the hungry-looking man next to him. “This here boy didn’t lie. He said someone would be waiting on him.”

The boy smiled. “Yes, sir. I don’t lie.” He walked off that boat and came right up to me like he knew me his whole life. Who in their right mind would let a young man like that go hungry? His face was so thin it was scary.

As soon as we was away from hearing, I placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes. “Who you be, child?”

“I ain’t no child, ma’am. I’m William Tine, eighteen years old. My daddy was William Tine too. He came from this place, but he’s been dead so long I never even saw him.”

I studied him. He didn’t seem like no liar, maybe he believed the tale he told. But I knew my brother, William—or Willie—never had a child with his wife. She was a root woman with powerful hoodoo. This I knew ’cause of Willie’s letters that came from New Orleans. Seen a photo of the happy couple together right before he passed on. Never had a baby. “What’s your mama’s name?”

“Amanda. She be from New Orleans. That’s where she met my daddy. He was playing cards and she worked as a barmaid.”

Willie was a drinker and a card player. But I couldn’t for the life of me remember that gal’s name he married.

“My mama was and is one of the best hoodoo women around.” He stopped talking and stared off. “She lives on Black Mountain now. That’s in North Carolina.”

“Well, boy, lots of mighty strange things take place. You showing up here is one of them things, and I don’t know what to think.”

“I can do any work you have, ma’am.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure you can. But one thing you got to know. William Tine was my brother.” I let that settle with him.

He looked at me funny and looked away.

“He died three weeks after he married your mama.” Something about the voice in my dream the night before made me think of Willie. I took them dreams dead serious like any smart person would.

“My aunt. That be strange. I didn’t think family would meet me at the boat.”

“Ain’t nothing too surprising on the island.”

“Mama never told me a thing about my daddy. Just said he was William Tine from Sapelo Island, a Saltwater Geechee. How’d he die?”

I wasn’t about to start discussing them matters with him. It wasn’t right. Eighteen or not, he had him a mama with her own truth. That pitiful excuse of a boy needed a place to stay, and I had me a empty room. “I got a room. You come on, now. But I got to know what kind of mama lets her eighteen-year-old boy just up and leave North Carolina while the whole dern country is struggling with the Depression?”