Hanging Elephants

“



“First thing I want to be saying to you is that most of the truth people be speaking ‘bout is really not the truth but fiction. You know…a big fat lie.” She smiled in a sly way that I had never observed before. Her grin was changing the texture of her wrinkled face and gliding downward towards her chin. I became aware that she still had perfectly white teeth and I watch as they glowed iridescent by the light of the fire. “Most people say that they be telling you the truth and I believe they truly be thinking that they are. But, most people’s stories are more fiction than fact and I know that to be one of the only truths …if truth be told.”
“So the story I be telling to you is truth wrapped up in fiction and slanted with my own accounts of the things that did happen.’” She paused this time to adjust her glasses as they had slowly slid down her nose. I knew the pause, however, was to give me time to think. One had only to spend a small amount of time with my Great Grandmother Evie, to learn that her unspoken rules and customs were often learned rather harshly. I had spent a lifetime observing her nuances. It was within her undeclared convictions that I found the truth of who she was. So, I knew to speak now would stop the story and I had been waiting a long time for this story to be finally told.
“Are you writing all this down?” She resumed after several minutes as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “ No computers, mind you. Only by hand….that way you be rememberin’ what I say.”
         “Yes mam.” I was purposely curt in response. Her demands were often ridiculous to me.
“You writing this down exactly as I say?” She seldom believed what anyone said.
“Yes mam, I am.”
“Good. It is important to write it down exactly. Words are powerful beings. They are formed from your intention and should come from your heart. Once out of your mouth, though they can take on a connotation that you never meant to say. Words can be crafty wizards of truth and misconception. That is why I want you to recount this exactly as I say it because I am choosing my words most carefully. I am using words that are in relationship with me.”
I wanted to ask her a question so badly I had to bite my tongue in order to garner my silence. I understood, however, that she never missed a thing. Even with her eyesight almost gone and her hearing a distant memory, she was still as sharp as a tack.
“Gone on.” She stopped. “Ask me what you been thinking about.”
“I am not sure I understand what you mean by your words being in relationship to you?”
“Everything you do….everything you say…everything you see is in a relationship with you. Even those thoughts you often think…. that you never want anyone to know you thought…they are in relationship with you. They were born of you….came from you …and they belong to you. No one can ever change that relationship accept you. So when I speak I am having a relationship with those words. I am in relationship with those thoughts being manifested.”
Before I thought it through, I hastily asked her to clarify her meaning. She glowered towards me then quickly shifted her eyes back to the fire. Fires were instinctive with her. She had been keeping fires all her life and I know she has a strong and long relationship with them. She and the fire spoke with one another subconsciously, yet I felt she had a conscious connection I would never understand.

“In the beginning it is my relationship with the words and I keep that in my heart and my mind. When they are spoken, they can come into another relationship all together. Then they can be in relationship with the one who hears. I cannot be controllin’ that relationship. I can only control mine.”
“A long time ago, I had no understandin’ how I was in relationship with my words. Now I know the power of that relationship and so I am very careful of how I speak. Even of how I think. I been learnin’ that lesson a long time and it has cost me mightily.” She paused again and I saw her eyes shift from a sparkle to a mist.
In all my life, I had only seen Grandma Evie cry once. When my Great Grandfather Joshua passed away, I had watched her intently at the grave site. As she picked up the rich earth to place it on his coffin I had seen a single tear fall down her check. Quickly and almost without notice, I watched as she caught the tear with a finger and then placed the tear on the earth. Now as her eyes misted, I could sense her internal struggle for composure.
“Words can cast a magical spell over the world. They can express your love…your anger…your sadness and grief. They can convey joy and rapture. They can bring you your heart’s desire and in the next second they can cost you everything you have or everything that has had you. Once spoken, words can cost you mightily….. they can even cost you your life.
She paused again to check if I was listening. I met her eyes dead on and for a second I thought I heard her voice even though her lips did not move.
“Child…I hope you understand how words can make your dreams come true and how they can destroy your dreams. Words have more power than money or gold. So be in good relationship with the words you be speakin’ and know the power they wield over you and the ones who be listen’ to what you be sayin’.
“I have never thought of it in that way before.” She always amazed me with her insights.
“I knew this man once, who will be in my story. He had the power to speak the most beautiful and elegant words I have ever heard. When he spoke it was as if an angel from heaven was playing a tune. Yet at the same time and with the same eloquence his word caused many people to suffer. His words had the power of life and death. Often times when he spoke people took and twisted his words to mean somethin' he had not even said. I learned from that man about the power of words. He was a powerful teacher.” Her cat jumped on her lap in one swoop, nestled next to her and began a bathing ritual. She had a relationship with that cat. It was obvious to the both of them. I sat observing them and wondered about all the relationships we have and do not even notice. Even more, I reflected, are all the ones we have and do not understand.              “ Not many of us understand what words do until they have spewed from our mouths and we can not take them back within us. Then we have them regrets. Then we wish we had chosen our words wisely. It is then we understand our power to create and to be killers all in one breath. The Creator gave us some gifts for sure, but I be thinkin’ the most powerful gift he gave us who walk on two legs is the gift of words.”
         


Outside the small cabin, the western wind began to howl over the mountaintops. It sounded as if a freight train was barreling over the mountains and into the valley. I had always loved the sound of the winter wind when I had come here for Christmas as a child. Christmas in Blue Ridge mountains could be brutal. Yet sleeping in this cabin near my family was the most comforting place I had ever found.
I can remember how the wind would howl all night and it would seem as if every limb in every tree was about to break and come crashing in upon us. I would pull the heavy quilts that warmed my nights over my body and snuggled down into the deep feather bed. Drifting into slumber, I would have visions of Santa Clause gliding over the mountain tops, his sleigh loaded with gifts, the reindeer working hard to pull it towards our chimney. The wind would become Santa’s ally as he made his way to this place. The wind would bring Christmas to us within its breath.
It was a magical time being in the mountains at Christmas….being tucked into bed by gentle and loving hands and awaken each morning by the smell of a fresh made fire and bacon sizzling on the stove. I began to wander off with the ghosts of Christmas’s past when suddenly my body jerked me back to the present. I looked over and saw that she was wandering off also. The west wind had taken her on a journey somewhere into her past and I sat silently awaiting her return.


Chapter One
“The first time I saw these mountains, I thought that I had come to heaven. Why, I had never seen such gigantic mounds jutting up from the earth. These mountains reminded me bout all the stories my Uncle had told me bout The Creator. It seemed as if The Creator his self lived right up there in those mountains. It was a wondrous moment in my life. I do not think that even when I go to meet the Creator I will be forgettin’ the moment I saw them rising up to meet heaven. The mist was clinging to the tops of the trees and the wind singing her song. The sky was courting’ the earth with its magnificence. It was breathtakin’ I tell you and even to this very day…these mountain still be takin’ my breath away.”
“You see my Uncle and I had traveled a mighty long distance and a miserably long time to get to these mountains. We had come by horse and wagon bein’ we could not afford the train. We were mighty unprepared for the bumpy trails that would lie before us. We spent many days in muck and mud up to the middle of our wagons wheels. Uncle would push the wagon and I would taunt our mule, Miss Bessie, with the whip. Try as she might, we would spend hours not movin’ an inch until Miss Bessie or Uncle gave out. Miss Bessie would be foamin’ at the mouth and Uncle would be spewin’ the vilest words a young girl should ever hear. That is the way it was in those days. We could not just get on a plane and fly our way to where we wanted to go. We had to chart ourselves our own paths.”
“I liked it better then. It was an adventure. Now, it is somethin’ people take for granted. Peoples these days do not be thinkin’ of all the people before that came before them….all the people that took an unknown trail. Why…. once I flew on a plane. It was a miraculous thing that plane. It weighed a ton but lifted off the ground like a hawk riding the currents of the north wind. I was in awe. Below me lay the earth in all her finery. I could see her from a whole other perspective than I had never imagined. Why, I could see the rivers winding through the valleys to the lakes and then winding their way down to the ocean. I could see the train tracks cutting through the land like a big snake slithering on a rock. I could look out the window and touch the clouds. My, oh my, what a magical day it was when I flied on that plane. I remember lookin’ around the plane to see if others were watchin’ the creation below. I was sadden when I realized they did not look up from their papers long enough to see the earth below them. They just fly over her and didn’t even notice the grandeur that lay below. I felt sad…they did not even knows about having any adventure. No wonder they cannot sleep. No wonder they drink too much and get sick. Mighty fine world all around us and most peoples don’t even care.”
“Anyways, it took us days upon days to make our way from Kentucky. Once in awhile Uncle would stop in a town and we would get a hotel room. That meant we would have a bath. I cannot tell you how wonderful a bath is. You don’t know how nice the water be feelin’ till you are covered in muck and mud for days on end. Your hair matted together with small bugs crawlin’ through it. You clothes twice as heavy than the day you put them on. Water, why that be another gift from the Creator. Nothin’ feels better than some hot water on tired bones. I loved those hotels and the people in them were so nice. I always got extra ‘cause I was a pretty sweet young girl. I would smile and tilt my head to the side and I would watch as they snuck an extra piece of pie on my plate or a candy in my pocket. Those hotel stops were mighty fine.”
“Other nights we slept in our wagon or on the ground. I was scared most of the times causin’ I had heard all the stories about Daniel Boone and the big bear. I knew those bears were lurkin’ in the bushes waitin’ to pounce on us and eat us for supper. Uncle just snored. He snored, burped, and farted the night away. At least all his unpleastantries gots my mind of those bears sometimes. I can thank Uncle Alaister for that.”
“On our journey, Uncle would entertain me by tellin’ me stories of my Grandpa. Why, he had come all the way from a place call New York City. I knew it was far away, because my Uncle told me it took my Grandpa five years to find his way to the mountains of North Carolina and Tennessee. Five years is a lot of muck I would think. Five years is a lot of nights to spend worrin’ bout those bears. I sure am glad it did not take us five years.”
“Uncle said that Grandpa spent those five years findin’ his way in the world. Grandpa had been a big dreamer and went out into the world on his own adventure. He had spent those years learnin’ from trappers and wild Injuns. Uncle said Grandpa knowed how to talk like those French trappers and knowed how to speak with Indians too. Grandpa had even spent time bank robbers and outlaws. He knew bootleggers and bankers. At the time, I did not know what a bootlegger or a banker was. I was not quite sure what those outlaws were either. I was impressed nonetheless.”
“Uncle said Grandpa would be tellin’ me those stories when we got to his house. Uncle also said I need not be afraid of Grandpa, which was hard to understand, because I could see that Uncle was deafly afraid. Uncle’s voice would go up a couple of octaves when he spoke of Grandpa. I could sense his heart beatin’ a little faster. Didn’t know why he was that way about his own Daddy…but I knew I would know soon enough.”
“So you see we were overjoyed to see those mountains peaks. We could hear the train in the distance and with each toot of the whistle; Miss Bessie would pick up the pace. I guess she had the knowin’ that we were almost to our new home. I guess she was mighty tired of being in the muck too.”










“It was a beautiful spring day when we arrived in Erwin. Uncle got us a hotel and we got all cleaned up to meet Grandpa. I was so excited I could not sleep. I looked out the tiny window of my hotel room and all I could see was stars. I thought they looked more stunning on that night than I had ever seen them. Somewhere under those same stars, an adventure was waitin’ for me. An unfamiliar family was waitin’ for me. I was sittin’ looking up at the place The Creator lived and waiting for my life to change. Now, who could sleep on a night like that? You got to take those moments and make them remembered. Those moments are gone unless you step into them all the way. I ain’t never forgot that moment and I ain’t never goin’ to. I got them right here in my heart and no one can ever take them away. You want somethin’ to be remembered…you put it in your heart. It will be safe there”
         “You know, everyone has expectations. It would be a lie to say that you don’t. I had expectations back then. I had so many that I often forgot what they were until I was in the situation I was expectin’ bout. Then I was fraught with disillusionment, ‘cause there ain’t no one or no thing that can meet an expectation. They either fall behind your expectation or take you by surprise.”
“Now, that night I had lots of expectations about my Grandpa. I imagined him to be a tall and broad shouldered man. I imagined a burly like the mountain men in stories. You know the kind, wrapped in a bear pelt with a gun slung over their shoulders. I had heard from Uncle that my Grandpa had the most beautiful blue eyes one could ever see. Uncle said they were the color of the sky on the most clearest of North Carolina days. For sure I knowed he had blue eyes.
I imagined he would smell of the mountains, all musky like the mossy trees yet sweet like the Carolina jasmine that sometimes you could smell floatin’ on the breeze. I even had imagined how I would first see him. I thought he would be struttin’ through town; swaggering to and fro and that all the townspeople would smile at him. The gentlemen would tip their hats and the ladies they would slightly bow. I was thinkin’ that’s what gentlemen and ladies do when a hero walks through town. I could see him smilin’ with his beautiful white teeth at them and returning their gestures, as he would walk to the hotel. I saw his eyes light up at the sight of me, saw him bend down, and wrap his strong long arms around me, pulling me upward and spinnin’ me all around. I could see the entire town gatherin’ and all the townspeople would be laughin’ and clappin’ for the hero and his grand daughter. It was a splendid sight the two of us. At least it be glorious in my expectations.”
“Truth is, our meetin’ up was close to my dream. It was afterwards that there be some surprises. What I have learned in life is that what peoples look like on the outside might not be what’s a brewin’ on the inside. Peoples are good at keepin’ what is on the inside of them hidden. It is in the findin’ of the inside stuff that one sees what a person be all about. Sometimes people can take you by surprise, even when you been knowin’ them a long…. long time.”





“We waited all day for Grandpa to arrive. I had put on my finest dress and even though it was my finest seems every little girl in town had a better one. I sat on the bench in front of the hotel observin’ the townspeople’s clothes and realized that my attire was way behind the times. I felt awkward as if everyone was starin’ at me….everyone was lookin’ me over and wonderin’ where I belonged. It was as if they had never seen a girl be lookin’ like me. I wanted to hide from them, but there was no place for me to hide. Seemed to me at the time, that was who I was. I was a girl with no place.”
“At first, Uncle sat waiting with me. He had always been a fidgety man, but now he was squirming like a fish on a hook. After awhile he told me to sit there until he returned and he left me all by myself. He went over the street and back around the general store disappearing behind the building until I could see him no more. He was gone until the sun started to set. All the day, I sat watchin’ everyone comin’ down the street. I was hopin’ and prayin’ that each man would be my Grandpa. I sat there and watched as the mountaintops turn into purple pieces of heaven and the evening dew spread over the town. I looked up and sent a silent prayer to The Creator. I was hoping he was watching me from his home in the sky. I wondered if he could see me sittin’ in that small town scared out of my wits. I knew if he saw me, he would send some courage my way.
Then I started thinking on my Momma. She was born in these mountains and had lived there most of her life. She met my Daddy and  fell in love with him. Uncle told me that my Grandpa and Grandma did not take to kindly to my Daddy. So my Momma and Daddy, they took a long journey and moved far away from here.  Uncle tolds me that my Momma was unlike any one else he had ever knowed. She had somethin’ special all over her.
Even though my Momma died when I was being born and I never knew her, I missed her awful that afternoon as I was lookin’ up at the mountains and thinkin’ about the stories peoples had told me bout her. I knew that where she had come from was where I was going. I was wishin’ her spirit would guide my steps to my new life. I was prayin’ that she could here me and would send me some of her special somethin’.”
“Looks like he ain’t coming today.” Uncle said as he slightly staggered towards me. “I do not expect he will come this late. Probably should rent a room again and wait till tomorrow.” I had never seen Uncle this way. His hair was all messed up; his long curls entangled in one another. His speech was slurred and he smelled like a skunk had turned their back up to him and sprayed themselves all over him. When he bent down to grab my hand it was all I could do not to be sick at my stomach.”
“Don’t be touchin' me smellin’ like some dead animal.” I pulled away from him. He lurched forward and fell flat down on the ground. Now, there were townspeople gatherin’ all around us. The ladies were puttin’ their hands over their mouths and gasping with horror. The men folk were laughin’ and shakin’ their heads. Everyone was in an uproar over Uncle. I sat there not knowing whats I should do.
It was then the strangest thing happened. Suddenly the crowd quieted right down and it was if you could be hearin’ a pin drop. They all stepped aside as if Moses was partin’ the sacred waters of the Red Sea. It was then that I looked up from Uncle and saw the man I would be soon callin’ my Grandpa. He stood over Uncle with a scowl on his face that would cause a bear to turn and run the other way. He just stared at Uncle and stared. No one said one word. There was no sound at all. All I could hear was the sound of my own heart beatin’ right out of my chest. Then Grandpa bent down and touched Uncle’s forehead with a gentleness I had never seen a man posses. The gentleness only lasted a second as he stood up and looked around at the crowd.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen” His voice was musical. “Please pardon my son and his sheer drunkenness.” He turned all around looking at each person right in the eye. I noticed they all made eye contact with him and regarded him with respect. It was just like my expectations of him. He was a man grander than life itself. “If someone could help me, we can move him to my wagon.”
Many men stepped up and volunteered. They picked Uncle up and straight away took him to a wagon across the street. They plopped him down in the back and stepped aside as Grandpa thanked each one of them individually. Then Grandpa went up to the mule that was pullin’ his wagon and straightened out the reins. I could see he was fixin’ to leave and my stomach swelled with the prospect that Grandpa might not intend to take me. I felt my legs start to quiver and I fought back my tears. I don’t think he even knows I exist. That’s what I was thinkin’.
I looked over at him tryin’ to decide within myself if I should speak. Truth be told, I was not sure I could squeak out a word. I was hurt, alone, tired and confused not to mention I was just a young girl of twelve.
“You best be bringing your things and putting them in this wagon if you are coming with me.” “His voice calmed me within an instant and as I looked to reply I saw a most beautiful grin light up his face.”
“Yes sir.” I said as I picked up my small suitcase and started across the street.
“You know who I am?” He asked.
         “Yes sir. I believe you to be my Grandpa.”
“That is correct. I am.” He paused as he lifted the suitcase out of my hand and placed it in the wagon behind the seat. He then offered his hand to me and lifted me up onto the seat. “You look just like your Mother. I do not see much of your Father in you.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.” I lowered my eyes. It was disrespectful to look in his eyes without his offerin’. At least that’s what I was thinkin’.
“First, we are going over to the train yard to pick up some supplies that I ordered from Knoxville. Then we will start up the mountain. I take it that you have had some dinner?” He spoke as he prodded the mule out into the street.
“Yes sir. “ I lied. Don’t lie often but I lied then. My stomach was gurglin’ and churnin’ but I did not want to be any trouble to Grandpa.
         “Well, may haps we can stop over at Miss Fannie’s restaurant for something to eat. I am hungry myself.” He jiggled the reins and the mule hastened her step. “You, of course, do not have to eat since you have already had your dinner. But if would join me in a bite I would be grateful.”
         




“Of course, I did not want to let him down. He was so kind to me and everything. So off to the restaurant we went and had the grandest meal I had ever had. He hardly spoke to me. In fact, the only time he did was to remind me to slow down whiles I eat. I always be eatin’ to fast. Bad habits are hard to break. Anyways, it was dark when we headed over to the train depot. I could barely see the outline of the mountains as they vanished into the clouds.”
         “Grandpa pulled the wagon up to the tracks and jumped out. He assured me that he would only be a minute and I watched as he disappeared into the station. It was then that the feelin’ overcome me. My body started to shiver and I heard a strange roar in my ears. I felt like I was going to lose all my dinner right then and there. I had had this feelin’ before, but never as strong as this.”
         “It was like this feelin’ in my bones…that something big was ‘bout to happen. I stopped wiggling in the seat and looked up at the sky. I tensed up all my senses and waited. I remember in that moment I could smell the rain coming from the west even though the sun had been shinin’ all day as bright as I had ever seen. I could see the squiggles in the air that often show up before the first snow even though it was the first of spring. I could taste the metal from the blacksmiths shop and feel the fire that molded it. It seemed as if all time had stopped and everything that was ….everything that had ever been was contained in that moment. It was a knowin’. It was a knowin’ bout something I had no knowin’ of, but I knew it was there. Then as swiftly as those feelings came to me… they were gone.
         Before I could compose myself to what had happened, Grandpa was standin’ beside me and pullin’ me up from the seat. He wrapped one arm around my waist and with his other arm; he wiped the dew from his face. His face showed a concern and a understandin’ I could almost reach out and grab.
         “You been feelin’ it, haven’t you girl?” He shook his head. “You have the gift.”
          I could have acted like I didn’t know what he was talkin’ bout. But, in that very moment I felt a connection with him like no other human being I had ever known.
         “Like somethin’ is bout to happen and try as you might you can’t be controllin’ it? “ I asked in my bravest voice.
         He shook his head up and down in agreement. “Something like that.” He answered and squatted down to the earth. He put his hands on the earth and sat quietly for what seemed like a long time. “You see the Earth knows many things. She is feeling what we are feeling. We can share our feelings with the earth when we get close to her and know her. Right now, she knows something is coming to this place and she is making herself ready. Maybe that something will be tomorrow, or maybe a while from now. But she knows and she is preparing this ground for an offering.”
         








Grandpa stood up and opened a pouch on the side of his belt. He took out something I could not see at that time and held it up over his head. He began to speak in the strangest language I have ever heard. He gestured with his hands to the sky and the earth. I watched and listened with fascination. It was like I knew what he was sayin’ and doin’ even though I did not understand a word. He looked over at me with his blue eyes and a knowin’ passed between us. I was thinkin’ how much my life was fixin’ to change. He was much more than my expectation could have ever conjured. He was just like what peoples said about my Momma and deep inside of me I knew I was just like them both. My world was gonna be changin’. That was for sure.”

Silence then fell upon us as Grandmother Evie jerked herself back from her past and into the cabin. I felt as if I had been into the past with her. “If I had only known then what it was that I was feelin’ was comin’ our way. I think I would have run anywhere but where the Creator had planned me to be. But we don’t always have a choice in life…evens though we thinks we do. Often time’s life comes on us hard. It steals our breath and leaves us speechless. It takes us to places we ain’t ever thought we would be. Sometimes those places are miraculous and sometime those places seems like prisons. We blame life but we don’t understand that these are the prisons we have created for ourselves. And if truth be told, we may never be understandin’ it.
Unexpectedly, thunder rumbled in the darkness and we sat listening as it dissipated into earth. “You see, they be hanging an elephant one day in that very spot me and Grandpa was at. They be hoistin’ that elephant up….and breakin’ her neck.” I sat in stunned silence.
“Nothin’ stands out more than an elephant. You can see an elephant from way far away. Even in the thickest part of the jungle, an elephant cannot hide. Just the sound of its footsteps give it away. There ain’t no mistakin’an elephant.
         " Often in life, circumstances or peoples be like that elephant. They stand out wherever they are and no one can mistake them. Their light shines so bright that peoples get scared. You see peoples get scared when something or someone is different from them. The day they hanged that elephant was a portend of things to be coming.” She moved in her chair again and her grimace was even stronger. Her story had taken a toll on her. “I still find it hards to believe that peoples would hang an elephant in that spot me and Grandpa stood that night ever so long ago.”
         "Now you tell me” Her sly smiled returned. “Who could have ever seen a thing like that a comin’? She paused again and chuckled. “Now you tell me…..am I speakin’ the truth or it is a big fat lie?”
         









Chapter Two

My cell phone rang just as I had laid my head on my pillow anticipating sleep. I fumbled round the nightstand knocking over a glass of water and sending my glasses flying towards the fireplace. The ring was a wake up call I was not ready to answer.
         “When will you be coming home?” The voice on the other end was agitated. The cell phone hardly had any reception so it further frustrated the mood by crackling.
         “I have no idea.” I sighed audibly to insure my sigh would be heard. I had always hated his endless questions and tonight was no exception.
         “How much longer do you think this will take?” His voice was heavy with anticipation.
         “It could take a day, a week, or a month. I have told you over and over that it will take as long as it takes.”
         “We need to talk.”
         “I thought that was what we were doing.” My voice sounded harsh and dissonant.
         “Call me back when you are in a better space.”
         “I thought I was in a good space ….. at least I was until you called.”
         “I see.” I could hear the hurt feelings welling up from the phone. “I can not wait until you think that things are perfect and in order to talk. I need it to be soon.” He was enfatact this time. His voice had an edge to it that I could not completely put a finger on. I thought I knew every intonation that made him who he was. I realized that there was still much to know about him even after all these years.
         “Look, I am exhausted. We have been at it all day. I had just laid down and turned off the light when you called.”                                                                                                               It was hard enough to be patient with her.  I tried to listen to every little nuance of her voice . She insisted that I write down the words exactly as she spoke them.  The tediness of the day was taking a toll on me. It was not until I heard his voice that I realized how truly tired I was. “How about I call you sometime tomorrow?”
         My voice met silence on the other end. I sat with the phone nestled against my ear awaiting his response. There was none.
         “Are you still there?” I asked after what seemed to be an eternity.
         “I am,” There was another long pause. I knew he was calculating his next sentence carefully. Even though there was still much to learn about him, I knew him enough to know he was always calculating in order to solicit his desired response. “I have nothing to say anymore.” Now his timbre had changed and I could feel his exhaustion with me. “Call me tomorrow if you can find some time.”
         “I will.” I answered but the voice on the other end was gone and all that was left was silence.
         







I laid back against the pillows and felt the tears start to flow down my checks. My tears surprised me as it had been a long time since I had allowed myself the luxury of their company. I knew that if I totally surrendered to the moment, I would end up crying the entire night. Even though a purging of emotions was probably what was needed, I intended to deny myself. I chuckled at the thought of denial because denial had become my entire life. It was something that I excelled in. It was an atmosphere that I thrived in.
There was no denying, however, the raw emotions that were surfacing within my being. Maybe it was just being here with her. Grandma Evie always exposed my vulnerable side. Or, maybe it was her story that was sparking something deep within myself. At that moment, it was hard to tell. However, something within me was being unleashed. I felt as if I were a caged lion pacing back and forth within the constraints of my home made prison. But as I looked out between the bars, I could see a crack in the landscape. There was an opening for escape. I had a choice. I could either go and explore the unknown world or stay locked behind the fears of my own imaginings. The impulses inside of me were warring and try as I might I found them almost impossible to control.
         I wanted to stuff the lioness back inside of myself…unleashing it could mean interment disaster. When the wildness of ones self finds freedom, can it be contained? The question kept repeating itself over and over again. If I continued on this quest to understand who I am and where I came from, would I be able to control the small whispers within my head that bade me to step forward and leave all that I knew behind? Would I be able to take leap into the abyss? No, I must control those aspects of me that longed for expression. I must not surrender.
         Control was another close friend of mine. How I longed to relinquish it or transmute it into something more palatable. The picture of Grandma Evie as a small child flashed through my mind. She had charted a course into the unknown and it had led her down a path that would forever change her and all of those she loved. Yet, she walked the pathways bravely. I, on the other hand, had avoided every twist and turn upon my tiny little pathway. I had never allowed a pothole or a crook in the road to change my direction. As my tears fell, I started to laugh. The irony of how I had structured my world came crashing down on upon me. For one tiny moment I stood aside from myself and allowed a microscopic crack to form on my path.  As I observed how all my efforts to keep myself safe were crumbling, everything about myself seemed hysterical. My tears changed to laughter. I pulled my pillow over my face. As soon as I began to laugh, the floodgates opened and I found myself swept away to a place of tragic comedy.



         






“I heard that fancy phone ringin’ last night. Everything all right?” She was making coffee when I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen. I had no choice. She had been banging pots and pans while singing at the top of her lungs. I noticed that is was still dark outside. Not even the birds had awakened.
         “Every thing if fine.” I slumped in a kitchen chair and shielded my eyes from the kitchen light.
         “See what I mean?” She asked. “You be tellin’ a lie so big that you believe it to be true.”
         “What?” I was indignant and caught completely off guard. It was too early in the morning to be reprimanded.
         “Nothing in your life is fine. I can tell just by lookin’ at you. I don’t even have to use any of the gifts to see that. You are all pale and clammy. You look like you haven’t slept in a month of Sundays.” She was grinding the coffee by hand and in turn, I was grinding my teeth as she pushed and shoved her way into my life. “You ain’t even spoke his name the whole time you been here. That says somethin’ all by itself.”
         “I really do not want to talk about this right now.” I stood up as defiantly as I could. I had never been disrespectful to her, but I was inching my way there. “I think I will go back to bed.”
         “No you will not.” She turned and looked at me and I stopped dead in my tracks. “You will get your writing book and we will continue. No use wastin’ time.  Who knows how much time I be given.  If you don’t have the courage to talk…then I have.”
         I wanted so much to turn on my heels and walk out of the cabin right then. It took all the discipline I could muster to walk to the bedroom and get my notebook. As I picked it up off the pile of books nestled next to my bed, I wondered why I had come here in the first place. Maybe I did not have the courage to talk, as she had implied. Maybe I was running away from all that I had left behind….hoping that when I returned everything would be back in balance.  I hesitated and looked over at my phone. There was a part of me that wanted to pick it up and dial his number. There was a part of me that wanted to here his voice and finally get things out in the open. Yet, the stronger part of me wanted to simply sit and write as my Great Grandmother instructed me to. My hope was that I would lose myself in her story. At that moment, the stronger hope won.
         “What time is it?” I asked as I observed that the sun was nowhere to be seen.
         “Time to write.” She slid into the chair, coffee in one hand and a piece of buttered homemade bread in the other. “Time to listen and write. You be knowin’ the time soon enough.” She smiled. “Time is a relative don’t be worrin’ about it.”
         “You mean time is relative.”
         “No, I mean it is our relative….we be in relationship with it.”
         I felt my body tighten and start to cringe. Her thoughts on relationships had seemed so fascinating last night, now her words made me want to scream.
         “You don’t want to be hearin’ what I have to say this mornin’ do you?” How did she know my every thought?
         




“I just simply wanted to know the time. I am sleepy and in no mood to think about my relationship with time.”
         “Well, let’s see. When I woke up this mornin’ it was about three am. I have been up about one hour so I thinks that it is probably round four in the morning.” She sipped her coffee with ease, while I struggled to be present. “You feel better now….now that you know what time it is?” She laughed as she reached across the table and touched my cheek.
         I jerked my check away from her and she gently removed her hand. It felt wonderful to be touched by her, but if control was my ally then I needed to side with it.
         “ Close your eyes.” She said as she gently placed her hand on mine. “ Go on. Close them.”
         “Now, I want you to be rememberin’ the springtime in these mountains. Remember when you use to come on your spring break and spend time with me, your Great Grandpa Joshua and your Grandma?”
         I smiled. I could never forget those days as they had comforted me through many endless nights.
         “Now, be rememberin’ that first butterfly of spring. See is comin’ down the mountain and landing on those wildflowers. See its wings fluttering as it glides gently on their blossoms. Can you be seein’ it in your minds eye?”
         I closed my eyes and found myself engulfed in the mountains, a butterfly landing nearby.
         “Now smell those flowers. I was thinkin’ bout the honeysuckle spirit just the other day. In you your memory, you can smell it? I can remember you and your sister scampering up the road, picking honeysuckle off the fence. Remember what it felt like when you pulled that stamen out of the bud and a single clear drop of honey stayed on the tip. Remember how it felt to try to get that honey up to your tongue before it fell on the ground.” She paused as I felt the honey touch my lips. “ Remember how good it was tastin’. Listen while you are there, do you hear the sound of the bees humming round that honeysuckle?”
         I licked my lips as I felt my entire being relax into a springtime a long time away from where I was. I sat for minutes just imagining all that she had said. I could smell the honeysuckle, I could hear the bee, and I could taste the spring.
         “Feel that springtime mist floatin’ round you. It covers the trees and lays over the streams like an angel gaurdin’ over the earth. Feel that morning dew envelope you. Let that mist be takin’ you to a calm place. A place where there be no worries….no cares…a place where you can walk in your bare feet and there be not root, nor rocks, only the soft earth under your feet.
         “ Now, “ Her voice quieted. I could barely hear her over the wind. “Pick up your pen and feel it in your hand.”
         I did. It felt strange as if I had never touched it before. The pen seemed to vibrate within my hand. I could feel the story stirring within the pen.





“Be right here in this moment. Sittin’ in this cabin, listen to my voice and smellin’ the coffee. There is nothin’ else to do…nowhere else to be…just be here and allow yourself a moment in the story. Cause…my story…be your story…and your story….be mine.”
For a moment, it seemed as if time had suspended and all the chatter that lived within my head had found a new home. A stillness swept over me that I had never experience before. It was comforting and warm. It traveled throughout my entire being and I relaxed into the moment like never before. Then in a distance, her soothing voice guided me onward.
         “So, let’s see where we left off.” She began. Almost involuntarily, I felt my hand start to glide across the paper and all my emotions to meld into hers.
         

         “It was dark when we pulled out of Erwin. First we went to the blacksmith and paid him to hold Uncle’s wagon and all Uncles and my worldly possession until Grandpa and Uncle could come and get them. Then in silence we drove the wagon down a road lit with lanterns. The houses on that road were grander than anything I had seen since we left Kentucky. They was painted with actual paint and the yards were dressed up with beautiful flowers. I thought some wealthy people must be livin’ in them. As we made our way past them I was wonderin’ what it was like to be livin’ in a house so grand. I was wonderin’ what those people thought about…who they loved…what they did. I was always a wonderin.’”
Soon after we passed the last one, the moon lit our way. Grandmother Moon was beautiful that evenin’. She was big and white…beaming down upon the earth all her love. I could feel the heat of her on my face and felt myself start to relax as we made our way into the unknown.
         “You best try and get some sleep. It is a long ride up the mountain and we are not stopping until we get home.” Grandpa broke the silence. “Climb on back there with your Uncle and do your best to find some sleep.” I had forgotten about Uncle. I looked back into the wagon bed and saw the shadow of his body. He looked like he had not moved an inch since I last was seein’ him.
         “Grandpa.” I hesitated, it was the first time I had said his name to him. “Would it be all right if I rode up here with you?”
         “It is fine by me, but it is going to be a lengthy ride.” He hesitated. “I am not long on conversation.”
         I understood his perspective. I myself wasn’t long on talkin’ either. For certes, Uncle was. Why Uncle did most the talkin’ on our travels. It seemed that he had to fill up every empty space ‘cause he was so empty inside. At least that was how I was thinkin’ on it. So Grandpa and I started our journey to my new home. My mind was racin’ with questions and anticipatin’ what was round each bend in the road.
         It was dark in those woods. Darker than any place I had ever been. The woods were thick with trees and bushes. Not like the woods in Kentucky. I started thinkin’ on those bears and felt a shudder move through me. I pulled my jacket close to my body as the temperature was droppin’ with each step the mule took. I be lookin’ all around me just in case something’ was comin’ towards us. I don’t know what I would have done if it did. But, I was preparin’ myself anyways.”
         The forest grew darker and darker with each step that old mule took. The moonlight would shine a dapple of itself of the trail once in a while. But the rest of the time it would just be dark. I wondered how it was that Grandpa and that old mule knew the way. There was rocks and roots everywheres. That old wagon jumped and jolted and I had no idea how Uncle could sleep through this trip. Grandpa just sat there as if he were in his chair at home. Sometimes I would look over and think he was sleepin’. He would grin every time that thought crossed my mind and I knew I better be careful round him with what I was thinkin’.
         “ Grandpa.” It felt strange to say his name, but I did not know how else to call him. “Is Grandma goin’ be there when we arrive?” I did not know much about my Grandma. It was as if she was some big secret that no one talked about. My Uncle hardly ever mentioned her. In fact, I was not sure she was even living, but the trail was long and I was a curious young girl.
         At first, he did say a word or look over my way. He just shook the reins to prod the mule up an even steeper incline. Then he started to whistle. I felt as if I had made a big mistake asking him about her. Maybe she was dead. Truth was I had no idea of her.
         “Maybe,” He said after what seemed like a long time to me. “We will meet her on this road before we get there. Your Grandma is an independent person with a mind of her own. I never know what she is thinking or even her plans. I do know that she is very anxious to see you.” He looked over at me and smiled. “So, we shall see.”
         “What’s Grandma like” I was becoming braver as the night wore on. “I don’t knows much about her.”
         Once again he paused, and started whistling. The wind seemed to respond to his song, cause each time he started to whistle the breeze picked up. “Well, I have known your Grandmother a long time. She was about your age when I married her….may haps a year older than you.  She was the prettiest woman I had ever seen….even in all my travels.” I saw him gaze off into the distance and I knew he be rememberin’ her the first time he seen her. “But, I will let your Grandma speak for herself. That is the best way. One person should never speak for another…… if truth be told.”
          I think I almost chocked on thin air when he told me he had married Grandma when she was round my age. Why, I had never imagined such a thing. I did not like boys, not at all. I was too young to even think of such a thing. He must of picked up on my thoughts once again, because he started laughing. He laughed so loud that I was sure that no bear was going come our way.
         “You know, your Mother was born just a year after we were married.” He looked at me with mischief in his eyes. They looked like they were reflecting the midnight sky full of stars. “I was thinking that we would find a suitable husband for you as soon as we can.”
         I did not know how to respond. I was unsure if he was teasing me or telling me the truth. My friend Janet in Kentucky was married off last year. The night before we had been playing together with our dolls and the very next day she was a married woman. I sawed her soon after her marriage at the butchers shop. She was no longer smiling and laughing like she used to. She had dark circles round her eyes and she looked like she had been a crying a long time. I walked up to her and asked her how it was bein’ married. She did not say a word for a long time. She just stood looking past me like I was not even there. Then she leaned over a whispered in my ear. At first her whisper was so faint I could not even hear her. I whispered back for her to speak up. She leaned closer to me and said one word. I guess that one word for her described her feelings ‘bout marriage at the time. She said…… endless.
         Endless. Now many times after I saw her I was always wondering what she was thinking. What did she mean by endless? When Grandpa said he was going to find me a husband all I could hear was that word ringing through my ears. Endless.
I looked ahead at the trail and it seemed endless too. Maybe all this world is…. is endless.  Maybe that trail lead to nowhere and that’s all there was. Maybe my life would be caught up in a bunch of endless. That word was scarin’ me.  Grandpa never made another comment on the subject that night. Only once in a while, I would look over at him and he would be grinning from ear to ear. So I assumed that he was just teasing me. At least that is the way I dealt with it that night.
         We traveled a long while in silence. I did not dare speak again, cause if he was not teasing me about getting married off, I did not want to know it. As the stars started to fade into the clouds I heard an owl in the distance. It was a most eerie cry. Grandpa stopped the wagon. Now there was no sound, except the wind and the cry of the owl. Grandpa stood up in his seat and made a sound that sounded just like that owl. The owl then responded back. This went on for a long while …Grandpa and that owl have a conversation and then suddenly he sat down.
         “Look’s like your Grandma is on her way. We best wait her for her.”
         “How do you know that, Grandpa?” I asked.
         “Cause your Grandma is a damn witch.” Uncle’s voice boomed from the back. It sounded so loud that both Grandpa and I jumped in our seats and the mule jolted forward. By the time all that had happened we turned around to find Uncle back asleep.
         “Do not listen to your Uncle, child.”  Grandpa reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Your Grandma is the most amazing woman you will ever meet. She is not a witch. She is a woman of medicine. She knows how to doctor anyone who has any illness. People travel from miles away just to have her medicine.”
         “She is a doctor?”
         “Well, not like the doctors in the cities, no. “He paused and scratched his head. “ Your Uncle never spoke about your Grandma?”
         “No sir.” Suddenly I was curious as to why. It had never dawned on me before that it was strange that my Uncle had never spoken of his own mother.
        “Your Grandma is a Tsalagi.” He spoke in a matter of fact tone as if I knew what he was speaking bout.          
        “Oh.” I replied. I already felt ignorant. I thought if I were to be askin’ what a Tsalagi was then Grandpa would know how ignorant I was. I also thought I had already made a bad impression. So, I acted like I be knowing what he be talking about. But I did not. I thought it must be one of those French words Grandpa be knowing that described a doctor.
          “She will be so happy to see you.” He patted my hand. He had been more affectionate to me in the first few hours of knowing him than any one had ever been to me in my entire life. I wanted so bad to reach over and hug him, but I dared not be doing that. That would be disrespectful of his space.
         


We waited for what seemed a long time. I kept saying that word Grandpa had spoke to describe Grandma over and over in my head. I wanted to make sure I addressed her in a proper manner. I did not want to make a worse impression on her than I had already made on Grandpa.  It was hard that word. Tsalagi…..Tsalagi…..Tsalagi.
          Suddenly the owl was close. Very close. The hoot was loud and I heard the flapping of big wings. The air above us started moving and as I looked up a dark shadow hover over the wagon and then fly up to the trees. Suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes. At first, I could not see anyone or anything cause it be so dark. Then, out of nowhere, stood my Grandma.
She was the most beautiful human being I had ever seen. Her hair was blacker than the night and it hung like a raven’s wing down her back. Her skin was dark like mine, but darker. She was dressed in a plain brown dress with red ribbons dangling down the sleeves. She stood there looking at us, and when my eyes met hers I started to cry. Of course I tried my best to hide my tears, but try as I might I felt them rolling down my checks. I had never been really known anything about my Mother but I knowed that I looked like her and that peoples always talked about how she was different. At that moment, it was like all the emotions that I had held about my Momma jumped out of my heart and landed on the beautiful Tsalagi that stood before us.
          She started walking toward the wagon and behind her a saw the biggest dog I had ever seen. It laid down on the ground as she approached. I noticed that it watched her every move and the every move of everyone else. I gulped as I watched for she was walking up to me.
          She reached out and grabbed a tear from my face as it was falling down my cheeks. She took that tear and held her finger up, then placed that tear in her mouth as if she was drinking from it.
          “I have waited many years to see you child.” She stepped closer to me and I found her beauty even more stunnin’ up close. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally meet you.”
          “Yes mam.” Once again I could not find my words. They were some other place.
          “Come down off that wagon and let me give you a proper greeting.” She reached up for me and as she did, her hand passed over Grandpa’s hand and I saw a look pass between them that took my breath away. Why I had never seen to people look at each other with so much love in their eyes. I secretly hoped that she had some left to give to me. She picked me up and helped me to the ground. Then once I had solid footing, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to her. She smelled like a fire that had been burning a long while and in the course of its burning the smoke had enmeshed with the fragrance of wild roses.
        “Child, you look so much like your Mother.” She stepped back to survey me. “But you are tall and lean like your Father.”
        “That is what everyone says to me.” My voice was faint, but at least it was workin’.
       








  “We need to get this young lady home and in bed.” Grandpa’s came up behind me. Once again, his strong hands were on my shoulders. He began to help me up into the wagon. As he lifted me up I felt as if I could fly. In a short time, I had finally found home. I had never known that feeling before. Even though I was nervous, it was as if being with them was the way it was suppose to be and as if I had been a knowin’ them forever.
          “You riding or walking, woman?” Grandpa asked Grandma with a smile on his face.
          She jumped up in the wagon right besides me. “I am sitting next to my granddaughter.” She said and then turned around to look at the back of the wagon. “Drunk?” She asked.
          “Yes.” Grandpa replied. “Could not even stand up.”
          “Are you sure he came from us?”
          “ Pretty sure.” He replied as he requested the mule to move on up the mountain.
        “Seems like he takes after your side.” She winked at me as she prodded him with her teasing.
        “ Looks that way.” He retorted. “Do not see any of you in him. He is white like me, tall like me and has curly blonde hair like me and is fortunate enough to have my good looks.”
        “And people say I am the good looking one.” She reached her arm around me and pulled me to her.
        “Grandma” I startled myself by speaking. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
        “ Then my sweet Evangeline,” Grandpa said as the wagon started to rock to and fro and head out into the night. “You have not been looking in the mirror. Why you are the most beautiful young lady I ever laid eyes on…..besides your Grandma.”
          Behind us I could hear Uncle starting to moan. I could hear the pat of the dog’s feet following behind. I gently laid my head over on Grandma’s shoulder and snuggled myself to her. She responded in kind, holding me closely and kissing the top of my head. In was within that moment that I began to know love. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to smile.





Chapter 3

         “Can we take a break?” I asked as the sun had already positioned itself in the noonday sky. My fingers were starting to cramp and my eyes were becoming dry.
         “Sure nough, if you needs it.” She agreed without any reservation.
         I stood up and walked out of the tiny cabin into the light of day. The cool spring air caressed my skin and I could smell the sweet woodruff blooming. I sighed and sat down on the front porch steps and closed my eyes.
         My Great Grandmother Evie had lived in this tiny cabin most of her life. Every since she arrived from Kentucky, she had lived here. My Great Great Grandparents MacLaren had built this cabin with their bare hands. This tiny space had housed their children, their childrens children and so on. My own Mother had lived here until she left for Emory University in Atlanta at eighteen.
         This cabin held a million stories. I was confident that I could hear the sounds of joy….anguish…..laughter….music….sorrow and betrayal. I closed my eyes to listen if any of the memories embedded in the rough hewn logs would speak to me. In a distance I heard the lonely whistle of a train creeping through the gorge. How many times I the sound of the train echoed throughout these mountains, I wondered?
         The coming of the railroad to this area of the Blue Ridge had changed the lives of everyone who lived here. Before the railroad, there was little known about the people who tilled the soil, worked in the feldspar mines and cultivated a life out of the rugged landscape. The railroad brought the progress all had hoped, but always with progress comes the traps of the civilized. As I heard the screeching of the rails, I pondered how my own life would be different if the railroad had not blazed such a precarious path through the mountains.
         I sighed. The breeze began to pick up and touched my face with its familiar stirring. Inside of me I longed to understand who I was and where I belonged. Yet, other parts of me wanted to travel with the wind far away from where I was. The tug of war that lived inside of me kept my life in a state of constant inertia. Maybe the reason for coming to write Grandma Evie’s story was to escape the decision to move forward….or simply to move in any direction.
         “What you be thinkin’ bout….your face all pale and your eyes far away?” Grandma Evie’s voice was musical in tone. Her accent often annoyed me, but more often comforted me in a way that I could not explain. Her intonations were musical and reminded me of my Grandpa Joshuas fiddle playing. Often she would sing as he played, her voice a reflection of the fiddle. Both voices a mirror into a time long ago past.
         “I was thinking about how you and Grandpa Joshua used to sit on this porch and make music together.”
         “Oh.” It seemed as if I had taken her off guard. Her voice was strained.
         “It is one of my favorite childhood memories.” I confessed. I did not like revealing my sentiments to her.




         “Mine too.” She pulled an old whitewashed rocker close to me. She began rocking and as she did a song burst forth.
         “ Keep on the sunny side…always on the sunny side….keep on the sunny side of life……it will help us everyday….it will brighten all the way…if we keep on the sunny side of life.” She sang the words over and over again. I wondered it there was a message for me within her solliquoy or if she was just remembering the past with her song.
         Almost as suddenly as she had begun her song, she stopped. I sat wondering if I should speak or be quiet. The only sound I could hear was the sound of her rocker creaking as she rocked back and forth. I turned slightly to spy her face and when I did, I recognized that she was psycially present, but emotionally she was far away.
         Quietly, without notice, I walked into the kitchen and picked up my pen and pad.

         “It was a day much like this.” She started her story before I could sit back down. “It was springtime. But, it was late in the afternoon. I was sittin’ on the porch with my Grandpa and he was pickin’ on his fiddle.
         Now you must be understandin’, I had only been here with my Grandparents a couple of days. Everything and everyone was new to me. I did not know what to be expectin’ so I decided to be quiet and just observe them.” She took a deep in breath and afterwards she let out a long sigh. It was as if that sigh contained a lifetime of waiting. “Anyways, I was sittin’ almost where you be sittin’ now. Grandpa was picking out a song his Mamma used to sing to him. It was one of his Scottish songs and quite frustratin’ to me. I could not understand a word he was singing.
         Grandma came out and started stompin’ her feet and dancing all over the porch. She was smiling at me and trying to pull me up to dance with her.  Her long arms were reachin’ for me and I was pushin’ her away with all my might. Why, I had never danced before. I was still a worrining about what kind of impression I would make on them. I was still worrin’ that if they did not like me that they would be sendin’ me away.”
         So, there we were…the three of us. We were laughin’ and carrying on. Why I had never had as much fun with anyone I was havin’ with them in that moment. Grandma was spinnin’ me around and smiling at me like I was somethin’ important to her. I was happy. It was something I never expected to happen to me….happiness.
         Then suddenly, Grandpa stood up and stopped his fiddling. Me and Grandma just kept laughing and dancing even though there was no music. She had just spun me round and round when her hand suddenly dropped mine. She stood perfectly still and all around us became silent. The only thing I was hearin’ was the sound of my heart pounding from all the dancin’.
         In a distant, the sound of an owl hooting broke the silence. Grandpa took one step forward and hooted back….just like he had done on the trail when we met Grandma. Then Grandma let out a hoot. Again silence. They looked at on another with apprehension and Grandpa backed silently into the house. When he stepped back out onto the porch, he had a long rifle in his hands. He put his fingers up to his lips and made the gesture of silence. I froze….they froze and we waited.
         After what seems like a long long time….another hoot broke the silence. This time the hoot was closer than before. I looked up at my Grandparents for any sign of what might be a happenin’. They stood fixed….staring out into the woods. Their eyes alert, they bodies rigid.

         After a couple of minutes, another hoot escaped from Grandpa’s lips. It was followed by a response which sounded much closer and also different from any other hoot I had ever heard. That sound changed everything. Grandpa sat his gun down against the house and Grandma had the biggest smile on her face. I knew somethin’ good was about to be happening. I felt my whole body relax as relief washed over me.
         It was then that I first saw my Aunt Aileen. She was walking up the path towards us. Now, at the time I had no idea of who she was. What I saw was a young woman even more beautiful than my Grandma. She was tall and her skin was the color of molasses. Her hair was as black as Grandma’s but it fell in long curls down her shoulders. Even from a distance, I could see that her eyes were green like a fern’s when they first poke their fronds out in the springtime.
         Aileen was dressed opulently. In fact, I had never seen a woman dressed so fine. She had on a huge hat that overshadowed her fine face. The hat was velvet with big plumes of some kind of bird jetting off the top of it. Her dress had a lace bodice and came down to her ankles. Over her dress was a long tunic, made of velvet. She looked like those women I had seen in the Sears and Roebuck catalog. Whys I had never seen a woman look like that in real life.
         She was carrying a bouquet of flowers in her hands and when she saw my Grandparents faces , a smile crossed her face that contained a bunch of love and a brief hint of contempt. Evens as a little girl, I could see her torn between two worlds…the world that contained my Grandparents and the world that lay beyond these hills.