Here's a really rough Chapters 2 and 3. I don't know how much of this will actually make it to the book form but I'm enjoying exploring Alex's story.
Alex
Chapters 2 and 3
I hope that you understand why she doesn’t
talk about him. Why all your questions
went unanswered for so many years after this.
Why I’ve never pressured her to tell you, why I pushed it away whenever
you brought it up. For so long, I’ve
been afraid of him, of his memory. Not
that she’s ever done anything except love me since the day she said her vows,
but I’ve always accepted that I was her second choice. I wanted her to forget- for how could you
love a candle when it is compared to the sun?
I never told you because it was hard. It is hard.
It’s like cutting something out of your soul to admit how you’ve failed
those you love the most. I feared that
you’d love me less, that you would feel the same sort of disappointment in me
that I feel in myself.
I was selfish. I still am.
I’m afraid you will hate me.
And I’ll no longer be your hero.
All my life I’ve wanted to be a hero; the
kind of man they told stories about after their death. My father was that kind of man, my
grandfather was too, before the sickness took his mind. I looked up to them and I wanted to be like
them but I killed my sister when I was eight and I have wanted to make it up
ever since.
My mother said it was an accident but I
knew better. I was the oldest and I was in charge. I was supposed to be her protector, and I
knew we were never supposed to go to the lake but we did all the time. It was our place, we were careful to keep it
a secret and stay dry lest momma notice our wet clothes and whip us.
That morning we were bickering as usual,
Catherine was smaller and meaner than me so she pushed me. I got my trousers wet to my knee. I was so angry that I pushed her in. If I was going to get a licking then she
was even more so! I knocked her off the dam, the deepest part.
She went completely under.
She never came back up.
At first I thought she was playing. I screamed and jumped in, thrashing in the
water. Daddy heard me and came running
and Will ran for momma. It seemed like
an eternity before he pulled her out.
She was already gone.
Can you imagine holding your child’s
lifeless body in your arms? It’s one of
those things that no one should have to endure.
Now that I am a father I suppose I could imagine how it would feel. I remember him crying as he held her. I had never heard him cry- before or until
the day he died and it’s a sound that haunts me still.
Along with the questions: “What were you
doing here? Why didn’t you watch out for her?
You are the oldest it was your job to protect her.”
And so, I learned that it was my
fault. My father said as much. I was the oldest and I got the idea that
things happened because I allowed them.
I promised myself that I would always do my best to protect my
family.
My mother fell into a depression so dark
and deep that we all worried she would succumb to it entirely. She would stand in her room and look out
toward the lake. She said that during
that time it was almost as if the water called out for her, inviting her to
join her daughter in death’s embrace. We
tried to make her happy, but there was no light left in her anymore. The only thing that seemed to calm her was
those dark waters, almost as if a part of Katherine was still there.
I knew that Katherine wasn’t in that lake
because the Preacher told us at her funeral that all good little children went
to Heaven to be with Jesus. I reckoned
that I’d never get there no matter how hard I tried and it made me sad.
It must have made her sad too, even way up
in heaven because she would come to visit sometimes when everyone else was
asleep. The first time I saw her I
thought she was really alive and all the rest had just been a bad dream. I jumped out of bed to run to her but she was
gone. I ran through the house looking
for her. I woke Daddy and when I told
him he told me it was just my imagination and to go back to bed. She came again several nights later and when
I told him he said I was being naughty and forbade me to tell momma. He said if I said anything more about it then
he would give me a whipping for sure.
Nobody believed me about Katherine and I
felt terribly alone. I found my solace
in Grandpappy. He hated me calling him
Grandpappy because it made him sound old, which I thought was funny because he
was old. He had gotten so old that he
could hardly get out of his bed anymore and he was the only person in the
family that seemed to understand me. He
told me stories about when he was a boy and things he did when he was young. I especially liked the stories about his
family before the war. He didn’t talk
much about the war and I asked often.
My mother said that he filled my head with
harebrained notions and I should take any story Grandpappy told me with a grain
of salt. I didn’t know what that meant,
but sometimes he would call me at night and he would beg me to bring him a
drink.
“They’re cryin’ out boy, go get me a drink so I can sleep.”
“They’re cryin’ out boy, go get me a drink so I can sleep.”
“Who’s
cryin’ out Grandpappy?” I asked him.
“Them
boys in yonder field.”
I
went out on the front porch to look. I
didn’t see or hear anything but it bothered me enough that I told my
daddy.
Daddy shook his head sadly. “His mind is
back in the war, son, back on that battlefield.
Those boys he hears crying out are only in his memory. Don’t worry boy, they’re not real. Try your best to ignore him and go on back to
bed.”
But they were real, or had been at one
time. Maybe he could hear them like I
could still see Katherine sometimes.
“But he says he wants a drink Daddy, can’t
I get him some water?”
My father lowered his newspaper. “It’s not water he wants but moonshine. If your mother knew we gave it to him she
would be angry. Besides, I don’t know
where he’s hidden it.”
I did.
It was under a lose board in the
barn.
A knowing look passed between us and my
father raised his paper again. “I’m not
opposed to it given the circumstance.
Just don’t let your mother know.”
“Them boys…” Grandpappy moaned. “Make them stop…”
I slipped the jug into his hand and
discovered that it not only made him stop crying it seemed to make him happier
as well.
“My older brother was supposed to fight
but he refused. That was James' daddy.
He refused to go, Daddy said he brought shame on the whole family. I wasn’t but 13 but I lied about my age.”
He never spoke about the war, but I was
right at that age where I found those sorts of things irresistible. When the
moonshine worked its magic he would start to tell me things. Most of them were horrible and I realized
that was why he never talked about it.
“Chickamauga.” He told me one night. “So many boys… dyin’ so far from their homes…
callin’ out for their mommas… begging for water… and not one of us went to
help… lest we be shot too…” He wept and
took another drink. “If I could only do
it again… Mebby I’d a been kilt… but mebby the Good Lord would a watched over’n
me too…” He told me before he dozed off
to sleep.
That night Katherine came to visit me.
“Too much death.” She said.
“Too much death… to live…”
I pulled the covers over my head. Too much death to live. I pulled the covers over my head but I knew
that if I ever looked back out she would be sitting there. I barely slept all
night torn between wondering if she was still there and the fear that she would
be. My bladder was near to bursting when
the first light peeked in through my window and I decided I didn’t want to see
Katherine anymore.
My father left on business after
that. I didn’t like him being gone but I
did like it when he returned. He always
brought us gifts, and we had been hinting for quite some time that we were both
old enough for some coon hound puppies.
He told us he would only be gone for three
or four days and to watch out over our mother.
It had been 8 months since Katherine passed and he said he wouldn’t have
gone but Uncle James said it was urgent.
He said when he came back he would bring us something special. We could almost feel those puppies in our
hands.
This trip however, he didn’t come back
with puppies.
He brought home a boy.
Chapter 3.
Momma hit the roof.
I don’t imagine Daddy anticipated a
reaction like that. Momma always had
such a kind heart, taking in almost every stray kitten or puppy we came across,
I suppose Daddy thought she’d be the same way with a person. I’m sure he imagined her taking this boy
right in her arms like one of those orphaned kittens.
She didn’t though.
She looked at him like he was some alien
thing. I suppose, he was. He was several years younger than us but he
was especially small. He was dirty and
disheveled, covered in some sort of bites.
His clothes were little more than rags.
William and I wrinkled our noses when we got close enough. He stunk like a pig.
My momma glared at my daddy like he was
the devil.
“You want to replace Katherine- our baby-
with that thing?” She howled in accusation and my father stood
dumbfounded.
William and I looked at this stranger and
wondered why he had brought home a little boy when a coon dog puppy would have
been so much more fun.
“I’m not trying to replace Katherine with
anyone.” My father tried to calm
her. “Your uncle said that we are his
only family left. He said he was your
cousin Inez’ son.”
Mother blinked and straightened. Inez was a cousin that mother often spoke
about playing with when she was a child.
“Inez?”
She asked no one in particular.
Grandpappy threw in his two cents from his
window.
“Inez ran off with some drifter from the
railroad!” He moved to see the fight
more clearly and peered from the other side of the screen. “Looks like he’s a half breed like his
father. He ain’t no Thornhill.”
My father lifted his chin and stood
protectively behind the boy. He placed
his hands on his shoulders.
“No sir, he isn’t going to be a
Thornhill. When I adopt him he shall be
a Bradshaw.” He turned his attention back to Momma. “Anne, be reasonable. Look at him. He’s just a baby. He needs a family.”
Mother made a sound like a mad cat and
stomped inside in a flurry of skirts while Grandpappy howled in laughter.
“Stop fussing girl! Ye already got yerself
a bastard and a Damn Yankee- might as well have a half breed.”
Momma screamed some things back at
Grandpappy that I’d have gotten my mouth washed out for saying. William and I stood on the front porch with
big eyes and didn’t really know what to do.
The ‘baby’ scampered to the far corner of
the porch and hid underneath a table where momma kept potted plants.
“She will come around.” He told us just before she yelled for us to
come in for supper.
We scrambled in after her, not willing to
incite more anger from her. She glared
past us at Daddy and told him that he was not bringing “that creature” inside
our house until “it” was clean and free of lice.
She meant it too.
She made William and I take their supper
out to them and I felt a little bad for Daddy but he seemed to take it all in
stride.
William offered Daddy his plate. I put mine on the porch several feet in front
of the child and backed away as I was sure he growled at me.
We watched the little boy uneasily as he
wolfed down his supper. He hunched over
his plate and ate with both hands like he hadn’t eaten in some time.
“Reckon she’d liked ‘em better iffin he
was a girl?” William mused and Daddy laughed
at him.
“You think so? Well, I couldn’t find a
girl this trip. You want me to look for
one next time?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. We had wanted a coon dog, but that dream had
gone the way of the dodo.
“I reckon you’d better ask momma first ‘afore
you bring anothern’ home, Daddy. She’s perty mad.”
“She’ll come around.” He assured us as he ate his supper balanced
in his lap, but I wasn’t so sure.
“What are you gonna do with him?” Will
asked.
Daddy ordered me to take another piece of
chicken to the wild boy. I approached
him carefully and he snatched the drumstick out of my outstretched hands and
scampered away.
“Clean him up, change his name,
give him a new family.” He smiled over
at us. “Isn’t that what God does for us
sinners?”
At the words “Clean up” I looked
over my shoulder at my poor father.
“Momma said she’s not boiling
water for a bath tonight, Daddy.”
He sighed and looked out across
the yard and was quiet for several minutes.
I got the idea that he was praying.
“In that case, I suppose you boys
should bring us some blankets and pillows.
Looks like we’re camping out tonight!”
We hurried inside to gather the
things he wanted. Momma was crying in
their bedroom. We hated to hear Momma
cry and it struck us to our core. It
made me angry that Daddy brought this child and it had made her cry. I watched him out the window but refused to go
out again.
Will sat down beside our father
and rested his head on his shoulder.
“Why’s Momma crying?”
“Because she misses Katherine.” Daddy said at last.
“Did you bring him to replace her?”
“No, son. I brought him because he needed a family and
I thought we might have room in our heart for one more. It doesn’t mean we love or miss your sister
any less.” I heard his voice waver and
my eyes stung. “No one can take her
place. Jesus is taking care of her until
we get there, I thought I could show Him how much I appreciate that by taking
care of this little boy here.”
“He
got a name?”
“The Priest called him Bryan.”
“Can he talk?”
“I trust he will, when he gets
used to us. We’re strangers to him. It’s
probably pretty scary for him right now.”
Will nodded and patted Daddy’s
shoulder as a sign of his solidarity.
Upstairs momma continued to cry and Grandpappy called for his
moonshine.
“You marrit that Damn Yankee,
girl! You knew all about his crazy ideas
about them coloreds!”
I went to my room. I didn’t like it when Grandpappy talked bad
about my father. He might be the only
Yankee in Nine Run but I was still convinced he was a heap better man than
anyone else’s father.
I waited for Katherine to come but
she never did show up again.
Maybe it was because she knew she’d
done been replaced.