Anthology

Sister

Kevin Clay

 

She was born in Sweetwater during the war but they moved from place to place very soon after. They were near Cleburne soon after and that was when Velma was born. They moved from that place soon after. In the summer they lived near Gainesville and that too in time came to be another place and that was near Rendon not all so far from Fort Worth and then another after that near Alvarado and Edith like that best of all because it meant Court Mondays in Fort Worth and market near the square in Fort Worth on Saturdays and too they were in easy reach of the Alvarado schools and Daddy worked in Mr. Peabody’s fields and Mr. Peabody, a Christian and a generous man, provided the seed and the equipment so with their own team of mules and their own wagons market was not such an ordeal as it might have been or so profligate of shares and skimpy of cash and too Mama’s garden yielded of produce abundantly and this they sold and it looked as if the kids might even have shoes for the new school year. And too Aunt Mamie whose husband Ralph was clerking in Mr. Avery’s store in Alvarado lived there in a big fine house and they might visit her and Edith liked this also.
She sat on the wide porch of the big house and watched the people passing in the street and sometimes she pretended this was her house and she and Velma and Tee and Curtis and Cecil and Joe David and Sister whose husband had died not long since all lived in it and not in the iron gray unpainted farmhouse where they did live and that it was Daddy that clerked in the store downtown and the buying of shoes was not so great a thing as it was on the farms they rented each one alike but not like in a series that went back so far as her memory and if Tee and Curtis and Cecil and Sister were to be believed even further.
They stayed near Alvarado for a long time and in the course of time she was growing and too that was the year that first Sister and then Sister’s baby Jewel fell sick and then Cecil after and no one knew why nor even what at first but Sister had TB and Jewel had it too and they were quarantined. The doctor bills mounted up and presently it was clear that there would be no shoes. And Edith forgot all about the porch and the elaborate fictions she had spun sitting on it and she looked after Sister and Jewel the sickly and spindly little girl whose keeping fell to Edith as the next oldest girl and Jewel became predictably enough the object of her fancies and she dreamed for the baby a long life and a brilliant career and a husband handsome and wealthy and industrious beyond the dreaming of any other and it took off the edge of things.
She rose in the night to tend to Jewel and rose also in the dark early morning and with Mama and Velma built the fire in the great iron stove, out of which she or Velma had raked the white clean ashes the night before and put them by. In time she would help make soap with them. With Mama in the mornings she helped with the biscuits and the bacon. She went to the cool house for the eggs and the crocker of milk and the lard. In the winter this was harder—as hard as the trip uphill in the night to the outhouse if all three of the slopjars were full (as they were too often with so many) and you had to go. It was Edith’s special curse that she had son frequently to do this. Just like my sister, Mama said. It was summer now and not so bad but things didn’t keep so well either and in that tome the fresh eggs she could gather from the malevolent hens were a special boon, though she did not like that either if she did well understand the fury that greeted her (though seldom outright pecking) when she went to the hen house and gathered up whatever had been laid overnight. The outhouse and the chickens and the slopjars and the newspaper they used for tissue and too the geese who could’ve taught the chickens much about malevolence were Edith’s special hatreds just as Jewel was her special love and that in a way far beyond what some girls might feel for the doll that Edith had never had.
When Edith and Mama and Velma had been up for perhaps and hour or two and still the dark crouched outside the windows the men began to stir. Always Daddy first, pulling up his suspenders over his nightshirt clopping over the floorboards with his black and peeling brogans and the laces and tongues flopping like a nest of worms. He was a long thin man and his face like his body in this accentuated by his heavy jaw and his deepset blue eyes and the shock of hair going with that had once been black and he sat at the table and Mama brought his coffee from the stove boiling hot and Daddy rested his jaw in his huge hands and let the steam play over his face for a while as his sons dragged themselves one by one to the table and soon they were all there, Daddy and Tee and Curtis and Cecil who had not yet fallen ill and soon Mama and Edith lay out the biscuits and the mounded scrambled eggs and the fried fatback and in summer the tomatoes from the vines in Mama’s garden. Fatback always in the summer until the Fall came and then Daddy would slaughter a pig and for a time there would be sausage. The saltpork kept better and if they ran out it was cheap enough to buy but sausage was another thing and the time when they had it they were glad enough. Even before the men left for the fields on Mondays Mama had the number three up on the stove and Edith would be hauling water to boil and the laundry would take all day, dip and scrub, dip and scrub, and too the time and labor Jewel demanded though a year old already so sickly was the child and Sister too that that not to last much longer and Edith was glad of it when Velma started in helping as of course she did not too long after Edith so nearly the case age they were. It was late in that Summer when Sister died and Cecil took sick and his hands an back too himself always were missed mightily as the time came upon them to bring in the crop, out of which Mr. Peabody would have his rent and the family money enough perhaps for shoes even.
But al of that was to be and the work thought on no more than need be as the men moved in trestles and planks for catafalque and Sister was laid out in the parlor and someone to keep watch over her in the short time between death and burial. Mama and Velma and Edith had washed and dressed the wasted body in such finery as could be had and in her stiffening fingers they folded a worn New Testament and Edith saw at Sister’s backside the darkening like a huge bruise she did not know to call lividity and the face the lips especially as white as, whiter even that the sheets she lay on. In the back yard with such lumber as was handy Cecil and Tee built the coffin on the rude catafalque and the lid of it stood behind it and another table of like provenance was made to hold all the dishes of food brought by relatives and neighbors and though not the first time Edith had seen it done she wondered again that people bring food and supposed it must be to cut down the work the family must do. Mr. Peabody sent flowers and came himself the day they loaded Sister’s coffin in the wagon and all in Sunday best went off to the church. Mama and Daddy sat like figures in a photograph in the pew at the front of the church and Mama clutched her bible in both hands so fiercely her knuckles whitened.
Sister was in the ground and the words spoke for her and now Jewel was Edith’s baby in fast as well as effect so great the demands of the family’s life were and all fell to it in their place for truly there was no way other they would live. Daddy and the boys worked even longer than sunup to sundown and in his bed Cecil lay blinded by his wasting and he voided out huge shocking outs of yellow and green liquid that had to be cleaned up and retched up from his shriveled stomach his own very bile seemed to await something as he lay restless on the sheets they all three struggled to keep clean and Mama lay a Bible on the table near the bed one day while Cecil slept and staring at him for a long time until she left that room to go help Velma and Edith make dinner for the men.
Now and then the Doctor came and sat with Cecil holding his hand and looked him over and Edith thought his visits little different from those of the Preacher except he carried with him no Bible but a bag full of things he would take out and use and replace back into the bag with such awful gravity that Edith could not bear to watch him. She overheard one day the Doctor and Daddy talking and something was said of the Health Department and Edith supposed this would mean other men like Doctor of Preacher who would come and speak softly with grave voices and leave having done little or nothing of consequence and consequence to Edith meant some change materially for good or ill and so for her no visit was of consequence because Cecil steadily worsened. And now it was fall and most of the crops laid by Daddy and Cecil and Tee wanted to slaughter a pig if only the cool would hold but it was Texas after all and the cold did not hold yet. They had to work some for Mr. Peabody too in this time but they came home and in a half light worked on to bring in the corn that was their cash crop for market. Them roasting ears is you young’uns shoes, Daddy said.
Jewel was some better and Edith was proud of the care she took and thought little of her bare feet and the coming winter. Jewel was walking now and Edith kept well enough up with her, perhaps with now and then a little prodding or instruction from Mama, but Edith was both apt to the art and dedicated to the child and the child grew with the speed of the young all times, all where's, and it fell to Velma to do most of the work of caring for Cecil who daily wasted all the more while they all stood by helpless.
He has sores, Velma told Edith. Edith had Jewel in the number three and was washing her and the baby—really no longer a baby though Edith still thought of her so—splashed in the water and played and gurgled out her sentences. Sores, Velma said, little red ones all over his back and chest. They come and go and when they go they leave a place all sunk in and brown. Do you give him logs of water like the Doctor said? Edith asked her. Sure I do, she said, and then I clean it up after it goes right on through him. It ain’t like Sister. It sure ain’t the TB whatever it is.
They’s mighty closed mouthed about it ain’t they?
They are. He don’t never pee hardly. It all just runs straight through.
We could trade out a while Edith said.
Velma answered angrily, You think its on account of it’s nasty. Well it ain’t. He’s my brother too and I and I—.
I know you do.
I don’t need to make no trade.
I’ll do for you tomorrow and you do for me.
Edith, Velma said, Edith, and she clutched her sister’s arm fiercely. You’re hurting me, Velma, Edith said. I’m sorry, Velma answered, I’m sorry, but Edith. Edith. The last two days it’s blood he passes.
You go on.
It’s blood. Big chunks of it thick like snot or something, Edith. And Velma’s lips trembled and Edith put her hand on Velma’s shoulder. I’ll do for you tomorrow. You be with Jewel. I don’t mind.
But when she did it she did mind and terrible. You wouldn’t think, she thought. You wouldn’t think you could feel so over one of your loved ones. But it disgusted her because it frightened her and because it frightened her she was disgusted and that made her work all the harder keeping Cecil clean. More than that Doctor does, she thought bitterly. He got his diploma off a magazine or out of Sears Roebuck I bet. But her shame reached so deep in her she took the next day too with Cecil and then the next, and when four days later came the Doctor with two men from the Health Department that evening she was with him still. Near dark as it was Daddy and Curtis and Tee were still off working and it was Velma went to fetch them while Mama watched Jewel.
They came back and the men folk stood out in the yard talking. Daddy was tall and gaunt and rawboned and scratched absently at his thigh or wiped his face with his bandanna while he talked with the men from the Health Department. They shook hands all around and Daddy turned and walked back to the porch where Velma stood with Jewel and Mama and Edith hung out the window of Cecil’s sickroom watching. Two of the three men started the Doctor’s car and climbed into it and drove away Edith leaned on the sash and had one fist shoved into her hip and she looked belligerent but that was only because she was.
Woman, Daddy said to Mama, you’re gonna have to boil all our drinking water.
What? Mama said.
Boil it.
Like I ain’t got enough to do and these young’uns too.
I know it but it can’t be helped
Well why?
On account of we’re all to get what Cecil has if we don’t. It’s typhoid.
Well where from?
It’s from our well. He says we ort to have a cistern.
Did he offer to buy one for us? Did Peabody?
You’re talking foolishness. It’s got to be done.
You know better than to speak to me so.
Daddy softened a little and he said, Tee and Curtis can haul some water for you. That ain’t apt to kill em.
Now Daddy, Tee said.
Hush boy. Daddy looked around. I know how hard you’re all working. It’s like that sometimes.
Daddy, said Tee.
Boy you hush, Mama said. And Tee took off his hat and slapped it savagely against his thigh and said in a hard voice, Well where’s supper? I can say that can’t I?
It’s on the table, said Mama. And everyone came in off the porch in a file Mama last of all and Edith at her post in Cecil’s window heard Mama say distinctly as she passed, Shit fire and save the matches. That was all that was ever said.
You think I can’t do it don’t you? Velma in the door of Cecil’s sickroom next day.
Why would I think that?
It’s what you do think. You’re to take on Jewel and Cecil is mine to watch over.
I never said you done poorly.
You think it.
I do not.
You do. It’s why you taken him.
It ain’t, Velma, Edith said. You got to know it ain’t . And Velma said, Then swap back. And Edith stood chewing her thumb with one fist shoved in her thigh and she said, Alright. If it’s what you want.
He’s my brother, too.
I know it. Just then a long wheeze from the bed and a foul stench and Cecil groaned and woke up and looked at them. Sister, he said. His voice seemed from faraway, Sister I done dirtied myself. I am sorry, I truly am. And the two girls looked at one another and they went together to the bed and cleaned up Cecil. Velma shamefaced made little retching noises so foul it was and Edith touched her hand and together they got it done.
You can do it if you want, said Edith. Velma only nodded.
They sat on the porch in the dark with Mama and the men at the far end all teasing and playing with Jewel. Edith stared at the dark and thought bitter thoughts about Doctors and such and she said, They said it was best only one do it. You go on if you like but I can help can’t I?
You done helped. Edith didn’t answer and Velma said, You can help some. It was the afternoon of the next day they were boiling water in the kitchen and the yellowjacket bit Mama. Mama went to the flour bin and reached under to pull it open and yellowjackets had begun a nest there, drawn by the warmth of the kitchen. Mama shrieked and pulled her hand back with the yellowjacket still on it. And its wings quivered and it pulled out its stinger and flew. And Mama fell first to her knees staring at her curled fingers and then she fell to the floor and Edith went to her an turned her on back and said Mama? Mama? But Mama did not answer and seemed not to breath and Edith went to get a rag and dipped it in the water on the stove and wrung it out and mopped her mother’s face with it an Velma stood wide-eyed watching with her fists crammed in her mouth.
What do we do? she asked.
I don’t know.
What do we do?
Move her arms. Velma, come and move her arms. Velma came and pumped her mother’s arms as they’d heard was done for people who had near drowned. Edith, she said, Edith she ain’t breathing is she? Their mother’s face had gone slightly blue.
Go get Daddy, a voice said. They looked around and Cecil stood leaning on the doorway and his nightshirt was not whiter than himself. His voice sounded as if he were speaking from the deep bottom of a well, and he said again, Go get Daddy from the field.
Curtis and Tee are closer.
Get Daddy. Velma, keep moving her arms.
Edith ran through the house and out the front door and fell down the porch steps. In the blank face of the sky gone somehow an opaque green she stumbled through the yard kicking up telegraphic puffs of dust and down the dirt drive through the abrupt and attenuated shadows of clouds to the caliche roadway and down that toward the cornfield and she started yelling. Daddy, Daddy! She yelled. She stumbled and sprawled headlong and cried out at the rocks grinding into her legs and knees. Daddy! She saw the cornfield around the trees hugging the course of the creek bed and then she saw Daddy and the mule team and the wagon piled with corn ready for husking. Daddy its Mama come quick.
What happened?
A yellowjacket.
Both of them running up the road. And her Daddy came abreast of her and swept her up in his strong arms and ran on. Put me down Daddy I can run. And the old man ran on and had no heed of Edith. He ran up the dirt drive and through the raked dirt of the yard and through the house and only set Edith down when he stood in the kitchen looking down at his wife.
My cow woman, are you alright?
Mama sat on the floor with her head in her hands and the dishrag in her hands held against her forehead and she said, I’m alright Joe. I think. Joseph Andrew dropped to his knees at his wife’s side and stared at Velma crouched beside her and his hands shook when he reached for her. My cow, woman. My cow.
What is that? Edith asked. A hammering came from the roof but Daddy paid her no mind and she repeated, What is that?
And walked through the house to the porch and stood there watching the hail drop from the sky and cover quickly the yard. Daddy, she said. Daddy, the corn. And she was running again. She ran heedless in the hail and the chunks of it falling all around her. She heard Curtis’ voice shouting, Edith and saw him and Tee out of the corner of her eye running also. She ran down the caliche road and the team of mules ran alone opposite past her making for the barn. They were still all rigged out and trailed behind them the wagon’s tongue. They brayed as they ran and passed her in a tumult of jangling chains and flapping straps of leather and the tongue dragged a furrow through the hailstones into the caliche, a furrow that would yield no crop. She saw the wagon now and stopped an realized that the hailstorm was over and the land was blanketed ankle deep in ice. She saw the field and the corn beaten down in it. And she stood by the bar ditch looking over the fence and the wagon lay in the gate with its wheels still spinning in the air. The roasting ears of corn strewn and mounded all about and those still in the field in a welter of broken and battered stalks and her brothers stood beside her. Tee slapped his thigh with his had and he said, Shit fire. Shit fire.
And Curtis said, You hush Tee.
That’uns Peabody’s wagon.
Hush.
Curtis, the crop. The wagon.
I see it. Hush.
All three walked slowly back to the house. The hailstones melted rapidly. By the time they walked up the drive they walked in a thin slather of mud and that too drying fast and it was not long you’d think it had never hailed at all. Daddy stood on the porch and Velma hung in Cecil’s window with her elbows stuck out like wings. Daddy gestured and tipped his head in mild negation and he said first, Ya’lls Mama is fine. She’s resting now. They all three stood before the porch and Curtis stepped forward and he said, Daddy.
No need, son. I seen the mules.
And Edith said, Oh Daddy.
It’ll be fine, girl, said Tee. It’ll be fine.
Ya’ll go on now, Daddy said. Curtis, you and Tee go on now and see about them mules.
Yessir.
And Edith heard Tee say as they left, You know what big brother? I ain’t gonna be no farmer and I can help it. And Curtis said, You hush. WE got to see to the team. And Tee said something else and they were gone and Edith stood in the yard looking up at her Daddy and he looked like nothing so much as an old man who was very tire. He looked down at Edith and he said, You’ll have to get our supper, Sister. And Edith walked past him and went to the kitchen to get supper. She heard Velma from her window say to Daddy, Daddy, Cecil’s might low.
That night in the dusk they all sat the porch and Mama wrapped din a blanket though the evening was not a cool one and Velma in her place at Cecil’s window. Daddy turned to Edith and he said, Go fetch a lamp would you? And Edith said, Can you take Jewel for a bit? And her Daddy said, Sure now, I can do that. And she handed over Jewel and went to get a lamp.
Tee said, Peabody’s gonna want him a wagon.
Daddy answered, I spect so. He played with Jewel and Chuckled at her gurgling.
Curtis asked, What’ll we do Daddy?
Edith brought the lamp and Daddy said, We’ll manage.
She set it on the table on the porch and Daddy handed her his matches so she could light it. She lit it and trimmed the wick and set the chimney on it and from Cecil’s room came a sound she never head heard before, a gurgling exhalation that trailed off slowly into a silence that was complete and Edith turned away from the lamp. She saw from the corner of her eye the flame of the wick puff suddenly down into the glass reservoir and she kept turning around completing her circle and she took up the lamp quickly and hot it was in her hands an she cried out as she flung It into the yard and in the last light it burst there and exploded, a s fountain of flame that burned brightly in the yard and Velma was at the window and she said, Mama.
What is it honey?
You or Daddy needs to come now.
Daddy and Curtis and Tee were standing up already and Mama said nothing and Curtis looked at Edith where she cradled her hands and bit her lip and said, Girl you just done mighty good. And Daddy said, Yes she did and handed Jewel over to Curtis and walked to stand beside her and examine her hands. Velma said, Daddy.
I know, Velma, Daddy said. Curtis. You know.
Know what? Tee asked.
Your poor hands, said Daddy, and he took Edith into his arms and rocked her and Mama sat still until she gripped the arm of her chair and arose and she said, Tee, Curtis, I’m going to need ya’lls help here. And Velma sat at Cecil’s window and she buried her face in her arms and she wept like a lost child and Mama and Tee and Curtis and Jewel went inside. Put her down in yonder and let her play a bit, Edith heard Mama say to Curtis. She heard Tee weeping.
What is today? Edith asked her Daddy.
We need to get some butter on these hands of yours, girl.
What is the date?
It’s October twenty-nine, he said.
October twenty-nine nineteen and twenty-nine, Edith said. Cecil yonder would be sixteen next week, wouldn’t he? He would have. I’d not even thought, she said and she was sorry for it. Yes, her Daddy said. And he lead her gently into the house.