chapter 7- Poppies

— Chapter 7 — “We better find shelter,” Alan said to Jobeth, who stood beside him. She was exhausted and chilled to the bone. A month of traveling had taken a toll on her already frail body. All that day she had been experiencing sharp pains in her small, rounded belly. Instinctively she rested the palm of her hand on her growing mound, feeling the quickening movements of the child growing inside her. Alan watched Jobeth closely. He noticed that Jobeth seemed to be getting thicker around her middle, but could not understand why. Their diet was meager. They had all lost weight while traveling on the road. Jobeth’s face and arms were rail thin and she had a gaunt look to her, like an animal with parasites. He was concerned for the frail girl. She seemed to always be in a great deal of discomfort. He wondered if she had gotten worms from one of their too-hurriedly cooked meals. He had seen sick kittens with gaunt frames, little bellies distended from parasitic infections, and Jobeth’s appearance reminded him of them. He worried and wished he knew what to do. “Are you all right, Jobeth?” “What?” She asked. She had forgotten that Alan was beside her. “Oh, I’m fine,” she lied, feeling another sharp pain. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders tightly. The days were getting increasingly colder and she could smell snow on the wind. “Are you sure?” Alan whispered, placing his hand on the middle of Jobeth’s back. Jobeth smiled up at Alan’s worried face. “Yes, Alan. Let’s find some shelter. I smell snow coming.” Alan turned toward the town up ahead and started to walk with her. Jonah and Shawna followed closely behind. He took a deep breath of crisp air and exhaled. Jobeth was right. There was a distinct smell of snow in the air. It wasn’t until evening when they found a small shack on the outskirts of town. It was old and rotted and by the next year it would probably only be a termiteinfested wood heap, but to the four weary wanderers, it was home for the night. Jonah opened the door. They could hear the scurry of tiny animals running across the floorboards. He shook his head. “Lots of cleanin’ needs to be done here.” Swiping cobwebs away from her face, Jobeth said, “That is an understatement.” She followed Jonah into the one-room shack. Alan popped his head in after Jobeth was safely inside. Shawna lay fast asleep in his arms. Anger filled him. He had failed once again. “The girls can’t sleep here,” Alan said, voicing his thoughts. He would not budge inside the door. Jobeth and Jonah turned to face him in disbelief. They were cold, hungry and exhausted. Jonah began to stutter, unable to believe what Alan said. “But Alan, we can’t find nothin’ else.” The weather outside was getting colder and a light flurry had begun. They needed to start a fire and get the chill out of their bones. He looked over at Jobeth whose hand was on her tiny ball of a stomach. His brow wrinkled with concern. Jonah knew what Alan did not. He knew Jobeth was pregnant and was in serious pain. After Jonah’s father died, he had stayed with a neighboring black family for a while, helping the husband on the farm. When his wife was only half way through her pregnancy, she had already experienced problems. The midwife told her she could not do her chores on the farm until the baby was born. Jonah had been looking for work in the town when he came across Mr. Jackson. They worked out an arrangement. Jonah would help work the farm for food and shelter until Mrs. Jackson had the baby and was again strong enough to work. It had been good at the Jackson farm and Jonah liked the family very much. He watched Mrs. Jackson with a belly just like Jobeth’s grow into a larger one, until the day came when she had her son. He knew the symptoms Jobeth was having. They were the symptoms Mrs. Jackson had experienced. He also knew that her pains were not good and she needed to rest. He had left the Jackson’s shortly after the baby was born. They were sorry that he could not stay but they were poor and could not afford an extra mouth to feed. Jonah understood and was grateful for their kindness. He was again alone, left to fend for himself. Alan glanced at Jonah’s pleading look and could not help noticing how the bigger boy looked anxiously at Jobeth. “Alan, I have slept in worse places than this,” Jobeth sighed, rubbing the ache in her belly. She was feeling a little resentful toward Alan. Did he think she was a piece of glass so easily broken? If he only knew the predicament she was in, he would not be so worried where she slept. Jobeth was not kidding herself any longer. She was going to have a baby and she could not hide it much longer. “Besides, it has started to snow. Where do you think we should sleep in such weather?” she asked a little crossly. She plunked herself down onto the filthy floor. Fluffy cobweb like balls few up into the air and then fell gently back down, landing on Jobeth’s skirts. Alan could not answer. He did not know where they should sleep. Reluctantly, he walked into the shack, sensing Jobeth’s hostility. “We will just put our blankets on the floor and use our sweaters to keep warm,” Jobeth said, very much needing to lie down. The child growing inside her did a somersault, causing her to let out a gasp. It was the first solid movement she had felt, instead of the fluttery feelings she had recently experienced. Alan’s eyes darted to Jobeth. His face turned red with embarrassment. She was angry at his stupidity. She would never think of him as a good provider, a man worthy of her and her sister, Downcast, he handed over the sleeping Shawna to Jonah and began preparing the bedding for the night. Jobeth watched Alan’s forlorn look and wondered if he could tell that she had just felt her child move inside her. Blushing deeply, she busied herself, helping Alan make their beds. She did not notice Jonah’s eyes following her every move nor how his brow creased with fear for her and her baby. I wonder where the Pa is? Jonah thought as he sat down cradling Shawna in his large arms. He didn’t remember Jobeth mentioning being married. Then again, he knew you did not have to be married to have a baby. The thought of Jobeth having a baby out of wedlock did not seem likely to Jonah. She was too well bred and moralistic. Maybe the reason she ran off was because she married the wrong man? Maybe he was mean and beat her? Jonah had heard of women doing that when their husbands were nasty. He knew her parents had been killed, but that was it. She didn’t like to talk about life before she met Alan and him. If she were married to a cruel man, she would have taken Shawna and herself away to safety. Jonah could understand. Jobeth probably didn’t know she was with child then, but she must know by now. He could not understand why she was keeping her condition a secret. He shrugged his shoulders and placed Shawna down on the blankets. Whatever Jobeth’s reasons were for not telling them about the baby, she would not be able to keep the secret much longer. With that, Jonah lay down beside Shawna and went to sleep. Alan awoke early the next morning. Jobeth and Jonah were already up and starting the daily routine of getting breakfast ready with whatever meager remains they had left from the day before. He jumped out of his blankets quickly. “Going to check out the town. See if we can stick around a bit or if we need to keep going.” Alan ran a hand through his brown hair and swiftly opened the door to leave. Outside, the world was gray with a light blanket of snow covering everything the eye could see. Alan shivered in his flimsy sweater. His breath streamed out in front of him. He hoped that he could find a job and make some kind of living. If he did find a job, he could build Jobeth a pretty house, like the ones he had seen other people living in. He never had desires before to change the way he existed. He always liked the adventure of moving from one town to the other. But, since meeting Jobeth, things had changed. He wanted her to have a real home that was always warm and cozy, and nice clothes she would never be ashamed of. He wanted Jobeth never to worry where they would sleep next. Shawna was a bright girl; a girl Alan wanted to see in school, laughing with classmates. If they kept up like this, before long, Shawna would end up a street-rat and miss out on being a normal child. He didn’t want that for Shawna—for her to be hard from living too long on the streets. He wanted her sweet and kind as she was now. He smiled, picturing Jobeth cooking him dinner in their home. She would smile lovingly when he and Shawna returned from work and school, both starving. Jonah would greet him at the door telling Alan about their vegetable garden and how their cow had just calved. Jonah loved working around the house doing farm work. He would run the farm, while Alan worked in town. They would have everything they needed. At night they would all sit down together around their own dinner table and eat the feast Jobeth made. The kitchen would be warm and smell of home cooking. It was a beautiful dream. A dream he felt he had to make happen. Alan pulled his sweater tighter around himself, trying to prevent the cold from cutting through him. He began to brood as he walked closer to town. What if this was the same as the last town? Alan opened the door of the variety store and instantly felt the heat penetrate his cold bones. Behind the counter a bored, middle-aged woman looked up from a small list in front of her. “Can I help you?” The store was packed with jam preserves and fresh vegetables and fruit. Farming material lined almost every wall. “Yah… er…I mean, yes,” Alan said, removing his cap clumsily. He cleared his throat and walked toward the leery lady. Her fingers began rapping on the wooden counter, causing Alan to become nervous. “You ain’t from these parts.” She gave Alan the once-over. He was not an ugly boy, but he had a peculiar look. She was a stern Christian who distrusted anything peculiar. His clothes looked poor and unkempt as if he had been sleeping in them, but that was not uncommon in these parts. Hygiene was not top of the list in importance. She placed her hands on her plump hips and glared into Alan’s green feline eyes. Trying not to show his nervousness, Alan remembered how Jobeth would answer this crotchety old lady. He did not want to sound ignorant. “No, Ma’am, I am not.” “Well. What can I do yah for?” she asked, folding her arms across her large breasts. Alan stared at the brooch the woman wore under her high collar. It was a pale pink oval with a silhouette of a lady in the center. It was pretty and the type of broach that Jobeth should be wearing. He straightened his shoulders, summoning his courage. “I was wondering if there are any jobs around here.” “Nope,” the woman puckered, “besides we don’t hire strangers around here.” “Oh,” Alan blushed once again defeated, “then I will be picking up some supplies.” “Very well. What do yah need?” the woman asked quickly, coming around the counter. “And we don’t give credit to strangers neither.” “No, Ma’am. I have money,” Alan said sadly, sure he had some money but it was quickly running out. He paid for his groceries, throwing a couple of sticks of candy in for the others and collected his bags. Standing back out in the cold holding his bag of groceries limply in his arms, Alan felt condemned. He stood glancing around at the small, growing town. Everywhere he looked a building was in construction. Hastily he began to walk toward the sheriff’s building in hopes that maybe he could give him some guidance about a job. People passed by him and he nodded politely as they looked at him oddly. One day, he thought, one day, I will be a respected man in town, one Jobeth would be proud to be seen with. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Benson, fine day is it not? Hope today is seeing you well,” they would say in passing. Alan would nod and Jobeth would smile demurely. He felt himself warming at the thought of Jobeth being his wife. Just then, he noticed that he had reached the wooden door of the sheriff’s building. There were brown sheets of papers pasted to the unfinished wall. Glancing at them, Alan’s mouth dropped opened. The brown papers were “Wanted” posters. On one there was a face sketched of his likeness. There was one of Jonah, Adam, Carter, Todd, Oliver and Tamara. There was even a sketch of Shawna. The only face not sketched was Jobeth’s. Alan figured this was because she had never ventured into the town they had left. He swiftly turned on his heels and started back to the small shack. Winter or no winter, they would have to leave. It was not safe in this town. Jobeth stood beside the makeshift fire Jonah had built in the corner of the shack. She was making a stew from the remains of a squirrel Jonah had caught the day before. She cut up carrots and potatoes, the last of their supplies, and plopped them into the simmering brew. Jonah and Shawna were playing a silly game about naming objects of certain colors. They sat on the grimy wooden floor laughing and playing as Jobeth stirred their supper, enjoying the sounds of their voices tinkling in the air. Alan stood outside holding onto the door handle, wondering how he was going to break the news to the group inside. He took a deep breath and barged inside-regardless of how they felt, they couldn’t stay. All three inside stopped what they were doing to look anxiously at Alan’s distraught face. Jonah stood up and took the bag of food Alan clutched in his arms. “What’s wrong? Yah, I mean, you, look like you have seen a ghost,” Jonah corrected himself. They were all trying to speak better with the help of Jobeth. “They have posters of us,” he said, uncontrollably running his hands through his straight brown hair. Jobeth felt a queer feeling pass through her as she watched the gestures Alan made. Heat began to rise in her face, making her look flushed. Alan noticed and was mortified. “I am sorry Jo-Beth. I sometimes forget I am in the presence of a lady,” He was flustered and ashamed. The feeling of helplessness enveloped him. Why couldn’t he just get it right for once? “Not that I could forget you are a lady,” he stammered. “It’s just that they even have a drawing of Shawna.” Jobeth’s head bobbed up and her mouth dropped open. Her neck would suffer from having wrenched it so quickly. Shawna skirted over to Jobeth and gave her a frightened look. Bending down to her level, Jobeth put a reassuring arm around her small shoulders. Feeling safe in Jobeth’s embrace, Shawna’s shivering subsided a little. “But she is only a baby,” Jobeth stormed, suddenly very angry. She held Shawna’s cornflower head close to her chest. “Well, it seems she was spotted in the store with one of us. The rest I’m sure you can figure out,” Alan said, previous conversation forgotten. “No,” a soft, spooked voice said out of nowhere. Jobeth turned to Jonah. He was staring vacant eyed, down at the dirty floor, his full lips quivering and mouthing the word no. “No,” he repeated, louder, in a strange voice far away. “Jonah,” Alan said calmly going over to stand beside the gentle giant. “We are going to be all right.” “No, we ain’t,” Jonah argued, his gaze fixed to the floor. “They are after us and they gonna hang me till my eyes bulge out of my head, that’s what ol’ man Wilson said and he weren’t foolin’.” Jobeth, unable to help herself, pulled away from Shawna’s embrace and went to Jonah. “Jonah,” she begged. But he wouldn’t listen. He began to bounce around mumbling about hangings. She tried to grip his shoulders, but he slipped through her hands. Alan and Shawna stood back from the scene wide-eyed, mouths agape. “Then all the white folks watching are gonna laugh and sing, ‘nigra’s dead, hung dead!’” Jonah was becoming hysterical. Jobeth did not know what to do. Before she realized it, she had reached out the palm of her hand and slapped Jonah’s wet face with all her might. Startled, she swiftly withdrew her hand as quickly as she had struck and covered her mouth. Jonah stopped bouncing on his huge feet. Large tears slid down his reddened cheek. “I am so sorry, Jonah,” Jobeth sobbed, disgusted with herself. “I didn’t know what else to do.” Helpless, Alan stared in disbelief, protectively shielding a weeping Shawna. Jobeth watched as Jonah placed a shaking hand on her shoulder. She looked into his distorted face, his lips still trembling. Tears fell freely down Jobeth’s face as she reached out to touch Jonah’s swollen cheek. His dark hand cupped her pale one. Slowly, Jobeth’s hand encircled his neck as she pulled his woolly head to her. Willingly he went to her, wrapping his arms around her thickening waist like a child. “It’s going to be all right, Jonah,” Jobeth cried, cradling his curly head in her arms. “We won’t let anyone harm you.” Jonah felt Jobeth’s baby kick him through her garments. “How?” he asked, pulling away from her comforting grip. He grabbed her hands in his. His eyes grew large with frustration. “How can you do that? You ain’t black. Yah don’t know how it feels. Yah don’t know and yah never will know how it feels to have folks hate yah because your skin is a darker color than theirs.” She knew he was right and wished she could give him the answers he wanted. Feeling helpless and weak, Jonah released Jobeth’s hands and let them fall to her side. He turned his back to walk away as Jobeth looked beseechingly after him. He slowly rotated around to her. “Yah know, Jobeth, I hate being black.” “Don’t ever say that!” Jobeth and Jonah both leapt into the air, startled. Alan, who had been silent through the whole episode, now stood solidly in front of them. His face was filled with a rage neither of them had ever seen. “Don’t ever say that again, do you hear me, Jonah?” Alan waved his finger in the larger boy’s face, surprising both Jonah and Jobeth. “Don’t you know anything?” Alan said, trying to calm himself. He had not meant to fly off the handle as he had. “They are all just threatened by you. They don’t understand the difference between you and them and it scares them. It makes them question themselves. It makes you different,” Alan said, full of emotion. He put his arm around Jonah’s massive shoulder, having to step on tiptoe to do so. “And those no-good, no-accounts know it and prey on it. Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are. Be proud of yourself, because you ain’t ever going to be anyone else.” Jonah looked at Alan and rubbed his swollen bronze eyes with the back of his hand. Jobeth watched passively as Jonah threw himself into Alan’s arms and hugged him tightly. Shawna tiptoed over to the two hugging boys, her tiny hands twisting and turning in front of her. She reached up to Jonah and pulled his shirt hanging from his pants. “I love you just the way you are, Jonah, and I think yah skin is pretty,” she said with all the innocent wisdom of a five year old. Jobeth swelled ready to burst open with emotion. Out of the mouths of babes comes the honest truth. Jonah bent down and picked Shawna up in his arms, nestling his head into her tiny shoulder. She looked like a porcelain doll in his large embrace. He breathed deeply of her innocence, kissing the nape of her white neck. The child stung his aching heart. He had let her down by showing his fear when he had promised to protect her when she cried in the night. “Oh, little girl, I think Jonah let yah down. I luv yah too much to do it again. Jonah’s not gonna let himself get all crazy no more.” “Good,” Shawna said, pressing her warm cheek to his. “Guess I scared yah, huh?” he asked taking a deep cleansing breath. He felt Shawna’s soft cheek go up and down. “Won’t do it again.” “Promise?” “I promise.” Jonah chuckled feeling a little like his old self. “Ol’ Jonah has a time of it some days, running off at the mouth like a fool. But we all act a little touched sometimes.” They ate the stew in silence and just as quietly left with the sun falling behind horizon. Fortunately, the morning snow had melted and the evening air warmed a little. The three eldest felt leery of the changed weather. They knew it was only a matter of time before winter would finally make a permanent appearance. They needed to find winter shelter before the cold settled in or they would not survive. They trudged on in weather that became harder and harder to bear, sleeping in whatever shelter they could find: abandoned sheds, overturned wagons, caves and once two large boulders with a blanket as a roof. The weather was beginning to show its affect on them, Jobeth in particular. As much as she tried to ignore her pregnancy, at nearly six months along she could no longer deny her condition. At night, when she thought everyone was sleeping, she let the waist out of her dresses. Her numb fingers worked by firelight, diligently creating a dress that hid her growing frame. She tried not to think of her pregnancy often. If she did, which usually happened when she felt the child move inside her, she became panicked and guilt-ridden. As Jobeth’s waist grew, her strength continued to wane. Her slender face had begun to look pinched. Her eyes were framed with dark circles and her arms and legs had wasted away to thin sticks. Her body constantly ached from the cold and traveling; she suffered an almost constant pain in her abdomen. She knew the baby was in danger but refused to think of the outcome. It was all too much to think of and stay sane. They finally came to another city several weeks after leaving the last. This one was smaller--just starting to develop. Small wooden buildings littered the landscape, not yet completely digested with homes and business. This was a good sign. The smaller the town, the better chance that news of distant cities had not reached it. Upon seeing the town ahead of them, Alan felt like crying out in relief. He was very worried about Jobeth and her deteriorating appearance. She needed to see a doctor and she needed a warm place where she could heal and feel better. He still didn’t realize that she was pregnant. She had done herself justice with her dresses. Covered in layers of clothing as they all were, it was hard to see her belly increasing in size. Wearing what they owned to keep warm, their blankets wrapped around them for shelter from the cold, it was almost impossible to tell she was with child. Jonah knew, though. He had watched quietly from his sleeping area while Jobeth squinted by the fire fixing her garments. He figured out that she did not want anyone to know of her condition and started to wonder if Jobeth cared to have the child at all. What were her secrets? Jonah only hoped that they would soon come to a town, or else he was afraid neither Jobeth nor her unborn child would make it. After searching for an hour, they found an abandoned house with only minor damage caused by neglect. They entered the house and slept where they fell, all too exhausted to bother with a fire or removing their layers of clothing. Jobeth slept late the next morning and when she awoke Alan had already left for town. She yawned, giving a fleeting look to Jonah and Shawna who sat on the floor talking in whispers. Not wanting to disturb her, they had been quiet knowing she needed her rest. “He’s gone to look for work,” Jonah said, noticing that Jobeth looked a little better from her long sleep. “Gonna be no more stealing around here. We gonna live like good folks and give Shawna a real home.” Jonah nodded his head and gave the child one of his famous smiles full of teeth. “We might actually stay?” Jobeth stretched, her body crying out in pain. Jonah nodded again, not looking at Jobeth. He wanted to tell her he knew about the baby, but he did not know how to go about it. Every time he looked at her, he could not keep his eyes from resting on her small, round belly. “Alan says we stay for the winter whether he finds work or not. We ain’t runnin’ no more this winter.” Jobeth sighed with relief and lay back down exhausted, and instantly fell fast asleep. “Well, Shawna, I guess we should clean up around here. It looks like we gonna be here for awhile.” He stood up and began to tidy things, while Shawna shadowed him and Jobeth slept. Later in the day, Jobeth, feeling a little better, turned a rabbit Jonah and Shawna had recently caught over a fresh fire. She listened mutely as Shawna bragged about catching the rabbit when Alan came into the clean room. Jobeth brightened when he entered. She fluffed up her skirt unconsciously. She had begun to worry about him. He had been gone a long time. Shawna ran to Alan and jumped into his arms. The reserved phantom child she had once been at Mother Tomalina and Father James’ had completely disappeared. Alan, Jonah and Jobeth were her family now, fading the memories of her early life. “Hello!” Alan said, Shawna beaming in his arms. Jobeth noticed Alan slipping a piece of candy into the child’s small hand. Not putting Shawna down, he placed his hat on an old chair. A grim expression contorted his face as he turned to Jobeth and Jonah. “What is wrong?” Jonah asked, fear pinching his own features. “Nothing. It’s just…” He paused for effect and thought about his trip to town. The town was small but was beginning to build up. It would take years before it became very populated. Competition for work was little. Alan had traipsed up to the one and only carpentry building in the place and was instantly greeted with a friendly handshake and a job offer. Beaming, he could not keep his good news to himself any longer. “I got a job in town at the mill and this house is ours.” He swung Shawna into the air, making her giggle uncontrollably, then ran over to Jobeth and planted a kiss firmly on her cheek, Shawna still in his protective arms. He then went to Jonah and proceeded to play fight, Shawna now riding on his back. All of them hooting and laughing loudly. The air was filled with excitement and happiness. Jobeth stood by the pot, smiling and holding the side of her cheek. Alan kissed her. back to top

Musical The Color Purple

So Yesterday my husband took me to Toronto to see the AMAZING musical The Color Purple. It was awesome. I cried pretty much before the play even started because I have wanted to see this musical since I heard about it the first time a few yrs ago, when it was in Chicago.... and have dreamed about going ever since. I love the movie, LOVE LOVE LOVE IT. It is by far one of my favourite movies ever. I enjoyed the book and own it in paperback and ebook HAHA! Big surprise. I also have the movies both in VHS (well I bought it the first time it was available to buy!) and bought the DVD some time back. If you love musicals... even if you don't love musical, give yourself a little treat and go see this. I promise you, you won't be disappointed. If I ever had another daughter I think I would want to name her Alice Celie, because Alice created a character in Celie that is heartwarming, inspiring and endearing that has left a place in my heart from the moment I first hear/read... dear God, I am 14yrs old. I am, I have always been a good girl..........

I love imagination. It can create anything, love, fear, excitement. Imagination is endless and essential to a quality life. To imagine is to know anything is possible.

Love it.

Well if anyone is following my blog you can see I have been adding chapters of my imagination every day. I plan to continue till I have finished posting all the chapters.

I am imagining that people will read it and love it nad beg for more, more of Poppies and more of my work.... in the best seller Embraced by the Light, Betty J Eadie says, "Imagination is the key to reality" And I believe that, because I BELIEVE.

Chapter 6- Poppies

— Chapter 6 —
The transformation in Shawna was amazing. The days at Mother Tomalina and Father James’ quickly faded into an old nightmare. Children are astonishing in that respect, able to flourish after a terrible ordeal. She no longer clung to Jobeth’s skirts. Shawna thrived in the love and affection showered on her by the group. She went everywhere with Tamara and the boys. She loved fishing with Carter or Todd for dinner, or collecting wood with Adam and Jonah. The boys would take her into town to the local store and buy her candy and ribbons for her well-kept hair. Shawna’s small face would light up with joy as she sucked reverently on a candy piece. She was no longer a pale shell of a child, but a rosycheeked, bright-eyed girl. Jonah loved to throw Shawna high into the air, catching her safely in his strong arms. Jobeth smiled as she sat in the tall green grass, watching as Shawna let out full belly giggles. Everyone loved her. She was an inspiration to them all. Maybe it was because so many of them had been alone when they were her age or maybe it was simply the need to protect the five year old from the hurt they had experienced. Whatever the reason, Shawna was the inspiration for the small group of children to fix up the old house. To make it a home. “A child shouldn’t live in a shack. Especially one about to fall in on itself,” Alan announced one evening about two weeks after Jobeth and Shawna had come to live with them. He directed his speech to everyone as he stood up from the tattered dinner table. Secretly he wanted a nice home for both Shawna and Jobeth. “I agree,” Tamara said with her arms folded tightly across her chest. She pushed herself away from the table, leaving her half-eaten stew. Everyone turned to her, surprised. Tamara’s affections toward Shawna continued to amaze the boys. This warm and tender spirit was not the girl they knew. “And she needs clothes. I could sew her some pretty dresses, if I had some material.” “We’ll get some.” Alan said, firmly placing his hands on the table while carefully avoiding splinters. “We will get some material so all the girls can have new dresses.” Tamara’s head snapped up in response to Alan. Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. She had longed for new dresses for some time, but no one had seemed to notice. “An’ apples,” Jonah smiled, bouncing Shawna on his lap. “I wants to plant an apple tree right in front, so’s me and Shawna can pick an apple for breakfast every mornin’.” “Well, Jonah,” Alan chuckled feeling proud of himself, “I’ll leave the planting to you.” “That’s just fine by me.” Jonah smacked the palm of his hand on his free leg. “We’ll have a great big ol’ tree just drippin’ with fat, juicy apples.” “Yummy!” squealed Shawna as she hugged Jonah around the neck. Her white face pressed firmly onto Jonah’s dark one. She looked like the porcelain doll Adam brought home one afternoon. It was a beautiful doll that resembled Shawna, with long, blonde hair as soft as silk and bright blue eyes that closed when you laid her down. She had a dress of royal blue velvet that billowed around her porcelain knees. The dress was trimmed in white lace and matching blue ribbons went in her hair. The doll must have cost a small fortune, which Jobeth knew Adam did not have. She could not help wondering how he had been able to get the beautiful doll for the child who had never owned anything so wonderful before in her life. “I am naming her Donna,” Shawna squealed kissing Adam squarely on his cheek. Jobeth swallowed the lump growing in her throat. It did not matter how Adam got the doll. Shawna deserved it. She thanked him kindly, causing him to blush red. They all seemed to shower the little girl with gifts. On another day Alan brought home an old, small trunk. He sanded it down and gave it to Shawna to keep her dolls and their clothes in. Shawna had never had anything so beautiful. She touched the smooth surface and began to cry softly. “Thank you, Alan,” the child said and hugged him around the waist tightly. Alan stiffened, unsure how to react to the child’s affection. But her thin little arms felt so warm and trusting that he relaxed and hugged her back. As the days past Tamara and Jobeth slowly became friends, if not close friends. True to his word, Alan bought material for Jobeth and Tamara. They made clothes together and Jobeth had to admit that Tamara was an excellent seamstress. She fashioned Shawna the prettiest dresses Jobeth had ever seen, with matching ribbons to go in her hair. Jobeth loved seeing Shawna prance around in her new frocks, ribbons bouncing in two long braids down her back Tamara would clap her hands with glee while Shawna would twirl around and around, her petticoats flying high. Jobeth could not help loving her own dresses. She made high-collared, puffsleeved dresses that were a little extravagant, but it had been so long since she had anything nice, let alone new, that she could not hold back from the latest styles. Tamara’s dresses were very low-cut and exposed most of her cleavage. Jobeth was mortified when Tamara returned home with a small bottle of red dye. She intended to dye her beautiful modest blue dress a brilliant red. Jobeth could not help wondering where Tamara had acquired her flamboyant taste. All three girls blossomed in the glory of their new apparel. The boys had to admit that the women of the house looked too classy for a bunch of scallywag boys. Jobeth liked living with the boys and Tamara. They were not her parents and Pauli, but they were the next best thing. She tried to disregard the time spent with the Johnstons. She did not want to destroy the small comforts she had escaped to. It was a hot early morning and Jobeth and Tamara were busy washing their clothing in the lake when Jobeth’s head began to swim dizzily. She stopped scrubbing Alan’s shirt on a rock and wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. “Another spell?” Tamara asked off-handily, her hands never stopped scrubbing. She did not want to sound concerned. Since the first day Tamara and Jobeth had locked horns, Tamara had witnessed the thin girl trying to hide her sickness more than once. Even though she hated to admit it, she had become fond of Jobeth. She was beginning to get worried. Jobeth was the only girlfriend she had ever had. “Huh?” Jobeth had forgotten Tamara was beside her. “Oh, yes.” “Well, I think it’s time for a doctor,” Tamara said, casually banging Oliver’s slacks across the rocks. “Damn soap, can never get this crap out of the clothes.” Jobeth smiled weakly. Tamara’s cursing did not offend her any longer. She found Tamara’s outbursts amusing. “Here, give them to me.” Jobeth reached for the pants and began wringing the soap out. “You can cook up a storm and you sew better than anyone I have ever seen, but you are the worst clothes washer in history, Tamara.” Jobeth breathed trying to ignore the waves of dizziness. “Well, we can’t all be perfect,” Tamara scowled, grabbing one of Shawna’s soiled dresses from the basket of dirty clothes. She fingered the dress absently, stealing a quick glance at Jobeth. “You think I sew good?” “Yes, the very best.” Jobeth replied fighting back the wooziness. “You could be a seamstress.” “You don’t look so good.” Jobeth’s skin had become colorless. “Thanks. Remind me never to give you a compliment again.” Jobeth wiped loose strands of her bun from her sweaty face. “No, you look sick.” Tamara continued as she dipped the dress into the cool water. Jobeth stopped her scrubbing and turned her head to see Shawna’s pigtailed head bent over her dolls in the grass near by. “Well, I have to admit I have not felt quite like myself lately,” Jobeth confided, her eyes downcast. Her hands in her lap were wet and soapy and she began to rub them on her skirt to dry them. “Yah know,” Tamara tittered, slapping her hand on Jobeth’s back, “if you weren’t such a goody-two-shoes, I’d think you was in the family way.” Blood drained from Jobeth’s face and she clutched the other girl’s arm. Tamara drew back as she watched Jobeth’s pale face turn an even ghastlier white. “Jobeth, I was just foolin’.” Tamara fretted. She grabbed a rag from the pile of clean clothes and damped it in the stream, placing it on Jobeth’s fevered brow. Jobeth looked at Tamara’s fearful face. Her eyes rolled back into her head and everything went black. “Jobeth! Jobeth!” She could feel someone tapping her face, but Jobeth would not open her eyes. Shawna, distracted by the commotion, put her dolls down and went over to the stream where Tamara was hovering over Jobeth. “What is wrong with Jobeth?” Shawna asked, patting Tamara’s shoulder. Fear began to crawl up Shawna’s spine. Jobeth looked like she was sleeping, but the panic rising from Tamara reminded Shawna of Donna and how she had went to sleep and never woke up. “Shawna, go get someone quick!” Tamara did not know what to do and she was as frightened as the platinum-haired child. Shawna stood frozen to the spot not moving, her eyes fixed on Jobeth’s gray face. In a panic, Tamara screamed, “Move it, quick!” Shawna jumped into action and started scrambling up the hill to the house. Jonah and Alan were outside testing the new steps they had just built. Alan patted Jonah’s shoulder proudly, “Very good, old boy, if I do say so myself.” “Not bad, not bad.” Jonah replied, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders. Running up the hill madly, Shawna spotted them. “Alan . . . Jonah!” She heaved trying to catch her breath. They turned, surprised to see Shawna’s flushed face. Jonah bent to the exhausted girl. “Slow down, little one, what’s the matter?” “Jobeth . . .” “What about her?” Alan jumped in, his heart starting to beat fast. He looked where Shawna had come from and could see nothing. “At the lake . . . she is sleeping and won’t get up,” Shawna finally spit out bent over, trying to catch her breath. Jonah gently took Shawna’s hand in his large dark one. “You show us where she is, all right sweetheart? Yah done a good job so far, but yah gots to show us where Jobeth is.” He glanced up at Alan, hoping he had been listening to him too. He was aware of Alan’s feelings for Jobeth and did not want him to fly off the handle. Alan paid no attention to Jonah as he shifted from one leg to the other, impatiently. Shawna, her breath coming back to her, pulled at Jonah’s hand to lead them back to Jobeth. The lake was only down a small hill behind the house and within moments they were beside Tamara and Jobeth, who was still unconscious. Alan rushed up to them and quickly scooped up Jobeth’s frail body in his arms. She had gained some weight since she came to live with them, but she was still as light as a feather. “Jobeth?” Alan whispered into her ear. Her head rested on his shoulder and he could feel her even breath against his cheek, warm and alive. She stirred and let out a mumble. “She’s coming to.” Alan called over his shoulder to the relief of the three standing there. Alan began to soothe Jobeth with soft whispers, “Jobeth, it’s Alan. Wake up.” Weak as a kitten, she lifted her head from his comforting shoulder. She squinted while trying to open her eyes against the bright sun. “Alan?” “Yes?” Alan’s voice was husky and felt trapped in his throat. “What happened?” Jobeth looked around her. The last thing she remembered was washing clothes with Tamara. Tamara looked down at Jobeth’s pale face, relieved she was alive. “Yah fainted. Never had anyone faint on account of my bad mouth.” Jobeth felt ridiculous. She looked up at Alan, abashed, and struggled to sit up. .“I am so sorry,” she said, feebly trying to compose herself. “Are you all right?” Alan’s voice was full of emotion. The smell of Jobeth’s hair, crisp and clean like the lake, lingered in his nostrils. He wanted to hold her light-brown locks up to his nose and inhale deeply. His heart ached for his sweet Jobeth. He was desolate. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t know what to do. Jobeth gazed into Alan’s strange green eyes; genuine concern for her welfare flooded through him so strongly she felt overwhelmed and ashamed. “I am fine,” she murmured, avoiding those feline eyes. She tried to stand up, feeling undeserving of Alan’s affection. She didn’t deserve anyone’s care. Not with the realization of what was wrong with her. It all made sense. Her recurring sickness and dizziness. Her missed monthlies. How long had it been since she had menstruated? At least three months. Her waist had been slowly disappearing. How could she not know? Mama had explained what happened to a woman when she was to become a mother. Why had Jobeth not known? Tamara had guessed, but dismissed the very notion because she believed Jobeth to be pure. Tamara was wrong about her. “Let’s bring our sick girl to the house,” Jonah said, hovering behind Alan like a mother hen. Alan nodded and held on firmly to Jobeth’s shaking arms. “No. I am able to finish my chores. Let me go please.” She pulled away abruptly. Alan flinched aware of how close he was to her. “Jobeth, I can do the wash fine by myself. I was doin’ it alone for a long time,” Tamara said, afraid Jobeth would faint again. Jobeth stood up straight, her legs feeling wobbly. She walked over to Shawna and gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “I am fine. It was just the heat,” Jobeth said, not facing the worried people in front of her. “I refuse to go and lie down when there is work to be done. Quit worrying about me and get back to your own chores.” She walked over to the laundry, grabbed the garment she had been cleaning before she fainted and continued where she left off, not daring to look at the open-mouthed group behind her. Tamara looked to Jobeth in disbelief. She shrugged her shoulders at Alan and Jonah, who stood bewildered. “You heard her, back to work,” Tamara squawked, shooing the two baffled boys away. Not knowing what to do or how to protest, they reluctantly turned around and began to ascend the hill. Tamara went back to smacking clothes on the rocks, glancing every few minutes back at Jobeth. “Stop mothering over me, Tamara,” Jobeth said, without pausing for a break. Shawna, satisfied that Jobeth was all right, went back to her dolls. She gently sat down on her quilt littered with porcelain babies and was instantly lost in her make-believe land once again. Tamara bent her head down low and sneaked a peek out of the corner of her eye. “I ain’t motherin’ no one.” “Humph, could have fooled me,” Jobeth sniffed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She attacked the garment she was washing with fervor. Tamara raised her eyebrow, but pretended not to hear as she too went about her duties. Both girls continued to work in silence. Jobeth felt Tamara’s eyes burning into her back. Guilt flooded her entire body. The heat of her eyes burned straight to Jobeth’s flat belly. It felt hot and heavy. Could everyone tell she was with child? She thought of Alan’s round face full of concern. Jobeth banged the piece of clothing harder onto to the rock, trying to beat out the frustration she felt. A savage scream filled her mind, causing her to slump over, exhausted. She stared down at the beaten shirt, unable to swallow this new discovery. She did not want to leave the people she had come to love in the last two months. She did not want to take Shawna from the only family she had ever known. Jobeth pressed her fingers to her head and squeezed; she could see no other alternative. Jobeth watched as Shawna continued playing with her dolls, unaware of the new situation thrust upon her charge. Her cheeks radiated color and health. Her tiny voice tinkled on the wind with the innocence of childhood naivety. Was it fair to remove the child from her new home? Jobeth’s throat tightened. She could not take Shawna when she left. She Couldn’t steal her childhood away again. Pain tore at her heart and her chest felt as though it would cave in. Life would be unbearable without little Shawna. A tear trickled down her face and Jobeth wiped it away unconsciously. She would never be happy again. She looked to the sky. It was a beautiful day. Her eyes went longingly to the hill and the house she now called home. She squinted, shielding her vision with her hand. A lone figure was running towards them. Jobeth stood up and looked closer. It was Jonah with a look of dread on his face. He stumbled to the ground and jumped up, brushing the dust off of himself. Jonah was yelling something, but Jobeth could not understand what he was trying to say. She turned to Tamara, who had stood up, confused. “What the hell is wrong with him?” “The sheriff! The sheriff! They’s after us! They’s after us!” Jonah yelled, coming closer. Tamara started walking towards Jonah, but stopped in her tracks upon hearing the words come out of his mouth. Jonah finally reached them, panting as he bent over, supporting himself on Tamara’s shoulder. She grabbed him under the arm to keep him from falling onto his face. “Jonah, what are you talking about?” Jobeth asked, lifting Shawna up. The child had run to her when Jonah ran down the hill. “The sheriff . . .” Jonah panted. “They done found us out.” He looked as though someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water on his head “Ole man Willard caught us stealin’ at the store today. Todd and Oliver gots away from him, but he done got the sheriff after us.” He stopped and looked at Tamara. His friendly ginger eyes were wide with fear. “We gotta split.” Jonah began to shiver. Tamara placed her arm around him protectively. “And yah knows what’ll happen to me,” he said, wide-eyed. Tamara frowned. “I am hung. Ol’ man Willard said it before. And I bet yah I will! I will!” “Damn it to hell,” Tamara’s old voice boomed. Whimpering sounds escaped Jonah’s pink lips. “I don’t want Jonah to hang, Jobeth,” Shawna crushed her pale fist into her eyes. Jobeth felt helpless. She did not want Jonah to hang either. Feeling as though the wind were let out of her sails, She began to gather the clothes up into a heap. Everything was moving fast. Her mind whirled trying to absorb all the new information flooding it. “Don’t just stand there like you don’t have a brain in yah head, move Jobeth! Move!” Tamara grabbed the damp clothes clutched tightly in Jobeth’s arms. “Get Shawna’s dolls and stuff into her trunk and get to the house!” Relieved, Jobeth jumped into action . Anxious faces turned to the lone figure standing in the kitchen. Light filtered through the windows giving Adam an ominous glow. “Alright,” he said calmly, “Here’s what we’ll do. The sheriff will be looking for a large group of us. We would be caught like a coyote in a chicken coop if we were all together.” Jobeth felt as though she were being torn apart. All her wrenching over what to do about her pregnancy was for nothing. She was going to have to leave her new family anyway. Grief filled her heart and soul as she fought back the urge to cry. All their belongings were quickly packed and tied to their backs in makeshift packs. It had taken only minutes to get their meager belongings together. “We will have to split up,” Adam finally revealed. He twisted his cap in his hands, nervously. “Todd, Carter and I will go together. Tamara and Oliver will be together and Alan, Jonah, Jobeth and Shawna will be together - nobody will be alone. When it’s possible, we’ll get together again.” “Where?” yelled Tamara, standing beside Oliver and looked as though she might cry. Oliver looked miserable as he placed a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “Hell, Tamara, I don’t know,” Adam choked, running his hand through his sandy blond hair. “What yah really mean is we isn’t ever gonna see each other again.” Tamara cried. Huge tears fell freely from her ebony eyes. “Yes, we will,” Adam stammered, uncertain if he spoke the truth. He had never seen Tamara cry or look so vulnerable. The effect was quite unsettling and he could not look at the beautiful, red-eyed girl without wanting to cry too. For the first time Tamara looked like an angel sent straight from heaven with all the sorrows of the world on her feathered shoulders. “All I know is we have to. God help us. But we can’t be worrying about that now. We gotta get outta here fast.” He went and stood beside Carter who was staring at the ground, kicking dirt angrily with the toe of his boot. Oliver encircled Tamara in his arms as she willingly succumbed, sobbing hard. “We’re gonna be alright, Tamara,” he whispered, brushing his hand through her silky curls. “I’ll take care of yah. Don’t worry.” Tamara sobbed and hugged Oliver closer. “Everything’s gonna be all right,” he said without conviction as he saw the look of despair in his fellow friends’ faces. It was written just as plainly on their faces as if it had been printed in the newspaper. The likelihood of them ever seeing each other again was doubtful. Jobeth shifted the weight of her sack. It was slightly heavier than when she had arrived three months earlier with only the clothing on her back. She shivered and squeezed Shawna’s hand. Would she ever see her new friends again? At least she had Alan and Jonah with her this time. She would not be alone with the responsibilities. The thought of the baby she was carrying flashed through her mind like a hurricane. She quickly erased it. For the moment there were more important things to worry about. They ran as fast as they could from the others who had, just a short time ago, been part of them. The three groups separated and went in three different directions. Jobeth turned towards the direction Tamara and Oliver had gone. Their hands were clasped together, Tamara’s jet black hair streamed out behind them. The image quickly faded. Soon all she could see were two black dots. Why do I always lose the people I love? Jobeth screamed in her head. For she felt love for the people she had just left. The wind ripped viciously at her face, blowing away the tears as they started to fall. Alan carried Shawna in his arms. Her little legs clutched tightly to his waist. She wondered how he could run with Shawna’s full weight burdening him. He looked over at Jobeth who was nestled safely between Jonah and himself. He told Adam and Carter that he wanted Jobeth, Shawna and Jonah with him. Adam had not liked the idea of the four of them together. It would have been more reasonable for Jonah to go with Oliver and Tamara. “No.” Alan had said strongly, taking no other answer. “He comes with me and so do Jobeth and Shawna.” Adam nodded giving in to Alan. There was no time to argue. The sheriff would be there at any moment and they needed to get away. Sheriff Duncan Migel was a cruel man who had been waiting for just this moment to get Adam and his crew behind bars. Adam shivered. They needed to get out of there fast. “All right, Alan, he goes with you. But be careful--you guys are gonna look like Poppies in a field of daisies.” “I’ll take that chance.” Alan replied, his face stone cold. They were running so fast, Jobeth feared she would fall behind. Jonah firmly grabbed hold of her arm, helping her keep pace. She smiled at him and was thankful as they continued on. When dusk came, they stumbled into a field and fell asleep exhausted. Jobeth woke to the sun shining in her face. For a moment she was confused as to where she was. Then she saw the frosted yellow grass around her. She sat up and faced Jonah. He was squatting a short distance from Jobeth, his elbows resting on his knees and his index finger was playing with his front teeth. Rubbing the remainder of sleep out of her eyes, she stood up feeling as though her legs would give out from under her. “Jonah,” she said, her legs crying out in pain from the journey the day before. “Jobeth,” he said through a weak smile. He stood up and came over toward her, gently taking her arm. “Legs a little wobbly from running?” “It would seem that way.” Jobeth grabbed his helpful hand. Wincing, she pressed her free hand to her spine. “Yah better try and walk it off because as soon as Alan comes back, we will be heading out again.” “Where is he?” Jobeth asked while walking in circles with Jonah. The pain in her legs was slowly turning into a dull throb. “He took Shawna out with him to hunt up some food.” Jonah searched the clouded sky with his eyes. “Are you all right Jonah?” “Oh yah,” Jonah grinned, “I just worried about the others. They’s like my family is all. I hates to lose more family.” Jobeth nodded. She understood more than he knew. “They will be all right, Jonah.” “Yah, I guess you’s right.” They stood silently side-by-side, Jonah holding Jobeth’s arm protectively. Neither spoke for a long time. Alan and Shawna found them still standing in the same position. Shawna was giggling about the rabbit they caught together. When they came upon Jobeth and Jonah, they stopped for a moment, afraid to break the peace emanating from the two stone figures. Alan coughed, embarrassed, and sat down on the ground by the dead fire. He removed his hunting knife and began to gut the rabbit. “What’s the problem?” he asked trying to sound casual. “Ah, nothin’,” Jonah said, breaking the silence. He bent down and grabbed a burlap sack beside the bundle of belongings and removed some potatoes. The food had been divided into three portions before they had left the others. “Let’s start a fire for that delicious rabbit you caught,” Jobeth said cheerfully to Shawna. Shawna jumped up. Tiny wood chips clung to her dress and she absently brushed them off as she skipped towards Jobeth. Alan watched out of the corner of his eye as Jobeth and Shawna disappeared into the tall grass. “Winter is just about here,” Alan said as he peeled the soft fur from the rabbit. He would keep the fur and make Shawna some mittens. Jonah nodded, not saying a word. He sensed Alan had something on his mind he needed to get off. “Jobeth and Shawna need a home. A real home.” Alan continued, never pausing in his butchering, “I have to give them that.” “You will, you will.” Jonah agreed while starting to peel potatoes. “I have to,” he said firmly, looking off into the horizon, lost in his own thoughts. After a quick breakfast they packed up the remainder of their food and started on their way again—this time walking. They were going farther from the people they loved and further into an uncertain future. Jobeth wondered about the rest of her new family. This continued to be in her thoughts as the four traveled on. Each time she awoke to the sun shining in her face, she wondered about them. Each time she fell asleep under the vast black sky with its many eyes glaring down at her, she wondered where the others were, and if she would ever see them again. Wild Tamara, so angry and untamed. Oliver with his piercing blue eyes and irresistible charm. Shy Todd who barely said a word but always had a special pocket full of treats for a little five-year-old girl. Carter, the shadow of his best friend, Adam. And Adam, the brave leader of them all. Were they all right? Did they sleep well last evening, alone for the first time in who knew how long? Were they as scared as she? It was something she knew she would always worry about and she wished that they were all safe and back together at the old abandoned house they had made home. back to top

Poppies Chapter 5

— Chapter 5 — As Jobeth sat on the mattress listening intently to Oliver, Shawna slept peacefully in her arms. The child’s pale hair fanned out across Jobeth’s lap and she absently stroked the silky locks. “We all just gradually hooked up with one another.” Oliver said calmly. His elbows rested comfortably on his lap as his hands dangled freely between his knees. Jobeth could not help noticing Alan looking at Oliver uncomfortably. She shook off the feeling of animosity and turned her attention back to Oliver. “So you don’t have any parents?” Jobeth inquired, facing him. His eyes danced with amusement. “Not one of us has a parent. They’re either dead or just up and left.” He smiled and leaned in closer to Jobeth. “What about you? Where are your parents?” Jobeth darted her eyes away and began staring at her hands in her lap. Her nails were broken and black and the lines in the palm of her hand were embedded with dirt. She nervously began to stroke Shawna’s soft, blond locks. Tears tried to force themselves to the surface, but Jobeth swallowed them back. “I have no parents. Shawna and I are all alone.” “Is Shawna your sister?” Jonah asked, sitting beside Tamara. He had been silently listening to Jobeth and Oliver. Jobeth looked up at him, still surprised at his color. She had only seen black people a couple of times around her hometown, and always on the poor side of citizenry. But the blacks and whites never spoke to each other. She was embarrassed to admit it, but she had never paid much attention to the colored folks. They were like apart of the scenery, standing on the corner or in the store. She had never taken notice. “Yes,” she lied, not looking up. It wasn’t completely untrue, Shawna felt like a sister. Alan noticed Jobeth’s uneasiness and sensed she was not used to addressing colored folks. Studying her tired face, Alan saw only kindness. She had probably never spoken to a black person before. Once she got to know Jonah, she would love him like everyone else did. Even Tamara, who pretty much hated everyone and everything, loved Jonah. “I think it’s time we let Jobeth sleep,” Alan announced, still looking at her. Relieved, Jobeth’s eyes met his. He tried again to smile warmly at her, but it only came out twisted, making him look ridiculous. “But we want to hear more,” Tamara chided, lying back on her side, her head resting snugly on her propped hand. She smiled sweetly. Jobeth ignored her. She was tired and did not want to answer any more questions. Too many questions would lead to too many truths, and that was the last thing she wanted them to know. Then they would throw her out and keep Shawna. They could never know the truth about what had happened to her. She would never let that happen. “There’s plenty of time to talk,” Alan interrupted, scowling at Tamara. “That is, if Jobeth decides to stay with us.” He held his breath, afraid of the answer. Alan could not explain it, but he felt the need to protect her and her little sister. Jobeth stared at Alan, open-mouthed. She hadn’t thought of staying permanently. “Please stay, Jobeth,” Oliver repeated leaning even closer to her. “Well, I don’t know…” Jobeth stumbled. She still felt a little frightened of these people. Tamara’s face was red with anger. Her friendly smile was now gone. Did she want to spend the whole winter with a girl who obviously did not like her and felt threatened by her? Tamara’s expression to Oliver was one of disgust. She flopped herself flat on the mattress, turning her back to Jobeth and Oliver. “There is no need for her ta answer that question, Oliver,” Alan answered for Jobeth. “We all can leave any time we want and so can Jobeth. Stay as long as yah want.” He layed down on a mattress and yawned, his eyes never leaving Jobeth. “Lots to do tomorrow, better get some shuteye.” She stared back, grateful. Alan nodded as she snuggled in beside Shawna. Oliver stood up and went to the mattress Tamara was sleeping on. Lying down beside her, he whispered something into her ear and she elbowed him roughly in the stomach. He chuckled, said something Jobeth could not hear and crawled onto a mattress with another boy. Jonah, smiling at Oliver’s behavior, crept away from the fighting couple and over to Alan’s mattress. He laid his large frame down, not noticing the difference between his frame and Alan’s lean one. “I like her,” Jonah whispered to Alan’s rigid back. “Me too,” Alan whispered back, wide-eyed, staring at Jobeth’s already sleeping form. “Me too.” Jobeth awoke refreshed and in good spirits for the first time in a long time. She sat up feeling a little stiff and confused, unable to remember where she was. Suddenly she became frightened. Where was she? Her head spun around from side to side taking in the objects around her. Then the events of the past evening flooded her memory. Alan and Oliver. Tamara. It all came back in a rush of events. She turned to check on Shawna and smiled at the sleeping child beside her. The poor thing was still asleep, completely exhausted from all the activities of the past month. Jobeth pulled the blanket Oliver had given her over Shawna’s frail shoulders and lightly kissed her warm cheek. “Good mornin’.” boomed a deep voice. Jobeth spun around to face Jonah. Her hand clasped her heart and she did not know what to do. Jonah loomed large with broad shoulders over her. “Good morning,” Jobeth said, reserved, her eyes avoiding him. She had remembered when Mother Tomalina had been offered a black baby. She had refused to take the baby, stating that there was no way she was having one of those kind in her home. Jobeth had not understood the comment. She had been in the kitchen peeling potatoes at the sink when the nice-looking lady with brown hair and a straw hat had come to the door holding the dark, crying infant. The baby was dressed in a darling white crocheted bonnet and dress that flattered the infant’s chocolate colored skin. “But Mrs. Johnston, the child has nowhere to go. You are my last hope,” the lady begged. The baby flailed its tiny feet, knocking off one of the matching white booties and exposing a brown foot with a pinkish underside. Jobeth leaned closer to the door to listen, her knife poised over a half-peeled potato. Mother Tomalina always wanted babies. For reasons unknown to Jobeth, Mother Tomalina had a soft spot for small babies. Maybe it was because they didn’t yet have a personality to offend her, or maybe it was because they did not look at her drawn, wrinkled face with disgust. Whatever the reason, it did not last long. As soon as the child was old enough to walk, Mother Tomalina would have nothing to do with it. “No. Now leave with that--that thing, now.” Mother Tomalina ordered the lady out of the house. “Bring me a white child, even an Indian, but never bring those soulless creatures into my home,” she ordered. “I will not have the children of Ham under my roof.” The woman left, enraged, and Mother Tomalina went to pray. As soon as Jobeth was sure Mother Tomalina was deep in prayer, she left the potatoes in the sink and went outside. She bent down where the baby had kicked off the bootie and picked it up. The yarn was silky to the touch. Jobeth couldn’t’ help herself and rubbed the small garment to her cheek, feeling its warm comforting touch. Before her parents were killed, Jobeth had asked her Mama about the black people. “Some feel they are different--inferior--to us white people.” Mama said while knitting in her favorite chair. “But the white people were the ones who enslaved the blacks, and no one, black or white should be treated like an animal.” She put down her knitting, motioning Jobeth to sit down in front of her. Jobeth listened and knelt down. As Constance Roberts began to braid her daughter’s long golden brown hair, warmth and safety enveloped Jobeth. “Remember, my dear, we are all God’s children and in the end when we are in heaven, all color fades to a bright light and in that light, there is only love.” Jobeth looked at the little shoe and the warmth she had felt when her mother braided her hair lingered. She gently folded the bootie and placed it in the pocket of her dress. Jobeth looked at Jonah, ashamed. His size was threatening, but his face and his smile were kind and genuine. “I owe you an apology Jonah,” Jobeth said looking at his confused features. “Whatever for?” Jonah handed Jobeth some bread. “I am afraid I have judged you unfairly.” Jobeth looked down at her hand holding the bread Jonah had given her. “Aw, you ain’t the first,” he smiled brightly, “and you won’t be the last. Everyone does at first. It’s cause I’s so big for my age and I’s so dark and all. Least yah say you’re sorry. Don’t normally gets a ‘sorry’ from folks.” Jobeth felt her apprehension starting to leave. “I guess you had a good sleep?” Jonah asked, coming close. He sat on the nearest mattress to Jobeth. “Sit down, Jobeth. Sit down.” He patted the mattress beside him. Jobeth walked over and sat down uneasily beside the massive youth. Too many things had changed in her life in such a short period. It was hard for her to overcome. She had never spoken to a black person before and now she sat inches away from one. She couldn’t help feeling dirty around people. After what Father James had done to her--why would anyone want to be around her? She closed her eyes and took a bite of the dry bread. I am not going to think about that! Jonah smiled and chuckled through a mouthful of bread. “Yah looks like yah got the weight of the world on those little bitty shoulders of yours.” “I do?” She twisted her hands, surprised at her outburst. She nibbled on her bread, angry with herself for revealing too much. “Where is everyone?” Jobeth gazed around the empty room, trying to change the subject. “They all gone to town,” Jonah smiled broadly displaying a mouthful of teeth that seemed to take up his whole face. She liked his smile. She started to relax again, the images of Father James forced to the back of her mind once more. Mama was right. Everyone was God’s child. “We has to treat the newcomers with class,” Jonah continued eating, whipping away breadcrumbs from his mouth with his massive paw of a hand. “Bread won’t do for the feast we gonna have tonight.” He lifted his crust of bread to Jobeth’s face. Instantly her stomach growled at the mention of a feast. It had been so long since she had eaten a good meal. She wondered if Shawna had ever eaten one. She felt warm inside thinking of the child feasting on good nutritious foods. “Yah,” Jonah continued, noticing the hunger in Jobeth’s eyes. “Carter and Adam are at work, but they promise to bring home a little extra for the dinner.” He grinned at Jobeth bashfully, his brown eyes twinkling with life. “Are yah hungry, Jobeth?” She blushed, ashamed that her hunger showed so plainly. “I am only hungry for Shawna,” Jobeth said with little conviction while sweeping the crumbs off her skirt. “Yah, I know how it is to be hungry for someone else.” Jonah laughed. Jobeth couldn’t help herself, she began to chuckle too. She sounded ridiculous. The sides of Jonah’s eyes creased and wrinkled with laugh lines. She wondered how old he was. His frame was the size of a man but his face was that of a boy, kind and gentle, not yet ruined from the cruelty of the world. “Jonah?” Jobeth asked, “How old are you?” She blushed. She felt like her tongue did not belong to her. She had lost all sense of the good manners she had been raised with. Tears burned behind her eyes. Could Jonah not see what a fraud she was? But she suddenly really needed his kindness and offer of friendship. “You are all so young,” she said, trying to recover from her mess-up. Her throat felt tight and it was hard to speak. “That we are.” He stared at the doorway to the rest of the house, lost in thought, unaware that Jobeth felt she had insulted him. He turned from the door and graced her with his beautiful smile. “All babes lost in this great big ol’ world. Well, let’s see. Carter and Adam are the oldest of the group. They’s eighteen and the best of friends you ever saw. Then there is Alan.” Jobeth eased up and felt her throat relax. She could not help noticing the look of worship on Jonah’s face at the mention of Alan. “Alan’s sixteen and Oliver the wild cat,” Jonah could not help but radiate as he spoke fondly of his only family, “he’s fifteen. Todd, he’s fourteen. He’s also Adam’s brother. He’s mighty shy, so don’t yah be getting upset and hurt if he don’t speak to yah.” Jonah wagged a finger seriously in Jobeth’s face. She shook her head, amused, and forgot her earlier shame. “And we can’t forget Tamara. Beautiful Tamara. She’s at the lovely age of fifteen. And I, well I’s sixteen too.” Shawna stirred waking up. She rubbed her eyes in the familiar way Jobeth had become accustomed to. “Well, if the sun hasn’t shined right in this very room.” Jonah beamed, standing up and walking toward Shawna. She quickly backed away from him, frightened. She had lived all of her life with Mother Tomalina and Father James. It was hard to remove a lifetime of learned racism in just one night. The messages the Johnston’s seeded in Shawna’s brain since infancy had taken plant and rooted on her shoulders for so long. “Now there is nothing to fear from old Jonah, little girl. Now look here.” Jobeth watched curiously as the boy searched in his pants pocket for something. Shawna eyed him with distrust. “I saved this just for you,” Jonah said, handing Shawna a large, shiny red apple. “Just for yah breakfast. A growing girl such as yourself needs an apple a day to keep the doctah away.” He chuckled, handing Shawna the red fruit. Shawna held the fleshy apple, her eyes feasting on the red color. She looked to Jobeth for approval and Jobeth nodded, smiling. Without a moment’s hesitation she took the apple and bit into it. “Mmmm . . . It’s GOOD!” She beamed up at Jonah. Apple juices ran down her chin. “Thank you!” She bit into it again, the sounds of crunching rang through the room and all fears of Jonah vanished with each sweet bite. “You are welcome. And since you love ma apples, I will bring one for yah every day.” Jonah said. He picked up Shawna and walked back to Jobeth. Jobeth reached her arms out for the little urchin and placed the apple child between the two of them. “Jobeth?” Jonah asked, handing each of them more bread. “Yes?” Jobeth placed the bread in her lap. She began to wipe away some breadcrumbs that had fallen onto her dress. “I always wants to know what a body wants out of this great big ol’ world. An’ I wants to know what you want too.” Jonah asked, looking at Jobeth sincerely. She knew he was serious with his question and it made her uncomfortable. She had given up all her hopes and expectations of the world. “What do you want?” Jobeth countered back, teasing, trying to avoid his questioning face. “Oh, I don’t know,” Jonah’s face puzzled up like an old rotten apple, “I guess I want people to see me and accept me as Jonah. Not the nigger boy. Not the poor black trash. Just Jonah.” He looked at Jobeth with wide, wet eyes. “See, I got two strikes against me. I’s black and I ain’t got no one but a bunch of white kids as family.” “But that is better than being any color and all alone.” Jobeth spoke softly. She felt for the man-child beside her. She knew what loneliness was and it did not discriminate. It attacked everyone it could. Jonah saw Jobeth’s fallen face and the sadness plainly displayed there. People’s troubles come in all forms, he thought. He perked up quickly, not wanting to darken this new encounter. “That’s right, Jobeth. I knew yah was meant to be a part of our family. I just knew it. I gots a bad habit of getting down on myself and the group is always at me, reminding me of the good things in life. Just like you just done.” Jobeth laughed and tickled Shawna, who giggled and bit into her half-eaten apple. It felt good to laugh. It had been a long time since she felt like laughing, since it felt safe to laugh. It might not be so bad to stay the winter with these people. They could not tell Father James had raped her. Besides, winter was nearly at the door and it would be good to spend the cold nights talking to Jonah. Maybe with time, she would even become friends with Tamara. She allowed herself to be content, if not happy. Maybe she could put the incident in the Johnston household behind her. Maybe she could forget and go on with her life. “Now quit tryin’ to change the subject. You tell me now what you’d like outta life.” Jonah scowled playfully. “I’d like to be as free as a birdie.” Shawna tittered. Jobeth still could not believe the change in Shawna. She had really transformed into a new little girl. It was hard to believe that Shawna had once been a frightened little phantom, afraid of her own shadow. “Me too,” Jobeth said dreamily. “I would like to fly away where no one would ever find me. Like a deserted island. I would eat wild berries and drink from a clear crystal stream. Then I would dive into its cool depths and be forever clean.” She blushed, embarrassed. Shawna and Jonah listened intently. Jonah put his hand on Jobeth’s knee and clasped her hand. It felt warm and friendly. “We have the same dreams,” he whispered. Stillness enveloped the room. “How did you meet up with these people, Jonah?” Jobeth coughed nervously. The silence between them had grown uncomfortable. “Well,” Jonah began, ripping his bread in two and handing half to Shawna. She took it greedily and began to munch down on it. “I was three when my ma died and a few years later my Pa died of a bad heart. I believe that it was a broken heart. He was always a silent man, but after Ma died of her headaches, he seemed to become even quieter. Into himself. I didn’t have no brothers and sisters on account of Ma nearly dying havin’ me. Pa said it messed her insides up pretty bad. Anyway, I was just wandering around, nearly starved, when I met up with these boys. Most have the same story. Some different. Some have been on their own as young as Shawna.” He ruffled Shawna’s hair. Shawna rolled her eyes up at him. “Yah, Tamara’s been on her own since she was seven. I don’t know much about Alan. He’s pretty quiet about his past.” Jobeth felt queer. Why was the boy Alan so secretive about his past? But then again, she did not want anyone to know about her own sordid history. She pushed the mystery of Alan’s previous life out of her mind. What did she care about a boy she did not know? Jobeth had enough to think about with Shawna and herself. She did not need to worry about Alan and his secrets. The door suddenly burst open, causing the three to jerk clear out of their seats. “Hey,” laughed a slobbering, drunk Oliver. He reeked of booze. Jobeth became frightened and reached for Shawna instinctively. “No need to dent the roof.” He stumbled into the room and nearly fell onto Jobeth. For a brief moment she felt like screaming. A memory of Father James looming above her popped into her mind and just as quickly faded when Alan grabbed Oliver by the collar of his shirt, frowning at him. “What? What did I do Alan?” Oliver looked confused and a little hurt. “You better learn how to handle your whisky, Oliver, or I might have to teach yah how.” Alan steamed. He had seen the look of terror cover Jobeth’s face. She could not help noticing Alan looking at her. She bent her head down and felt her face begin to burn red. Oliver sulked over toward Tamara who was standing in the doorway frowning down at Jobeth. She had also noticed Jobeth’s reaction to Oliver’s drunken behavior. “Hey, baby,” Oliver slurred at Tamara. A pink tongue protruded out of his mouth and darted into her small white ear. Tamara’s expression revealed that she was not impressed. “How about it honey? I need a little lovin’ and I know you can fill it.” He leaned over and planted a boozy kiss right on the nape of her neck. A shiver ran up Tamara’s spine. Softening, she gazed down at Oliver’s tousled black hair. She had a weak spot for his good looks and exquisite blue eyes. Eyes, she now noticed, trying to focus on the surprised Jobeth. Fury that seemed to always fill her snapped free. Tamara turned around so fast that Oliver did not have time to duck and her hand smashed into the side of his flushed face. “Pig!” She shrilled so loud that Shawna leapt into Jobeth’s lap. “You don’t talk to me that way or I will do more than slap yah. I knows how to do that too,” Tamara hollered. She stormed over to Alan, who was taking food out of the inside of his jacket. “Stop it, Oliver!” Alan said, shifting to Tamara. She began to remove food from her coat. Alan avoided looking at Jobeth. Oliver shook his head, touching the side of his face where Tamara’s handprint was already red and noticeable. He went to the nearest mattress and lay down. He did not understand what had come over Tamara. “We got a ham and a dozen eggs. Carter and Adam got some other stuff. We gotta be careful from now on. They’re startin’ to watch us closer.” Alan spoke to Tamara. “You women can go and begin this ham.” Alan avoided Jobeth’s fixed look. He could tell the look of disapproval in her eyes and it made him feel small. He was sure Jobeth had never stolen for her supper. It was plain to see in her eyes. Alan was sure he was right. She thinks I am trash, he thought, ashamed and humiliated. She is too good for us, for me. “C’mon.” Tamara said miserably as she picked up the ham and slung it loosely by her side. She did not even bother looking at Jobeth as she trudged out the door. Jobeth started to slowly stand up and follow the raven-haired beauty, unsure as to what to do. “Jobeth?” a small voice questioned. Jobeth wheeled around. She had forgotten about Shawna. The poor thing looked frightened as a scarecrow. Tears had begun to roll out the corners of her eyes and her bottom lip started to tremble. “Am I a woman? Do I go too?” She choked, trying not to cry. “Do you want to come?” Jobeth asked. She felt bad; her mind had been on Alan’s stealing and Tamara’s insolence. Shawna was her responsibility. She should not have concerned herself with how Alan and Tamara lived their lives. Shawna would be eating tonight. Eating until she was completely filled up. What did it matter where the food came from or how it had landed on their plates? It only mattered that it was there. Jobeth could not believe she had let herself forget about the little girl. She was going to have to be more careful. These people were temporary and this place was only a pit stop for the winter. Shawna was permanent—she was her whole future. Shawna nodded her head up and down, forcing the frown from her lips. She really liked Jonah and the attractive boy Oliver, but she still was not ready to be away from Jobeth. “Then come along,” Jobeth coaxed holding out her hand. Shawna grinned and jumped up from the mattress, running to Jobeth. “You’s in charge, Shawna,” Jonah said, pointing. “Don’t let those two diddledaddle with our feast.” “I won’t,” Shawna said, feeling better. Jobeth and Shawna went outside behind the broken-down house. Tamara was already building a fire. The ground was black and full of ashes. There were burnt twigs and black charcoal rocks placed in a circle. Logs were neatly stacked up against the wooden walls of the building. Tamara had already brought three good-sized logs beside the circle. “Shawna, honey,” Tamara said, surprisingly sweet. The young child looked at her fearfully, grabbing the hem of Jobeth’s frayed skirt. “If’n you wanna play, I have some pretty dolls up in the house by my mattress, just waitin’ to be played with by some beautiful girl just like you. You see, they happen to be lonely. No one’s played with them for a long time.” Shawna’s mouth grew into an ecstatic smile. She had never had dolls. Mother Tomalina did not believe in such indulgence. They were a waste of money, in her opinion. “Go play, Hun’.” Jobeth coaxed, thinking maybe Tamara was all bark and no bite. Shawna giggled and ran off excitedly into the ramshackle house. She quickly returned moments later with three porcelain dolls. They were beautifully made, with real human hair as blond as corn silk. Their faces were delicately painted with happy smiles. The dolls, Jobeth noticed, were well taken care of, their dresses clean and bright. Shawna sat down on the grass a little ways from the other girls and began to play. Tamara’s fire had started to take and she was preparing a spit to roast the ham on. “If you’re gonna stay, you better learn to cook.” Tamara said, glaring at Jobeth. She ignored the look. “Everyone has to work. Ain’t no room for one livin’ off the others here.” “I can work.” Jobeth spoke bitterly, poking a stick into the ground. The sight of the ham, which moments ago had caused her stomach to growl, now made it churn. Her breasts began to throb and she wondered if her monthly would soon start. She glanced at Tamara putting the ham on the spit. It looked red and the smell of raw pork began to repulse her. Her mouth began to water and bile rose in her throat suddenly. Turning to the bushes, she quietly spit up her bread that Jonah had given her for breakfast. Tamara watched out of the corner of her eye. She had been ready to argue with Jobeth for leaving her duties when she noticed her throwing up. Tamara turned back to her cooking. She hated being sick, but she was only briefly concerned for Jobeth. She didn’t like the scrawny gal invading her home. The little one, Shawna, was all right. She knew only too well what it was like to be so young and alone. “Sorry,” Jobeth said returning back to Tamara, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I haven’t been around solid food so long that I’m afraid my stomach can’t handle it.” Tamara nodded, not bothering to look at Jobeth’s waxen face. Oliver paid too much attention to the gaunt, stringy-haired girl. She couldn’t understand his attraction to her. She thought Jobeth’s hazel eyes were too big. Her hair was too straight and an awful mousy color. Although Jobeth’s dress was barely being held together, she had no body to contend with. She was built like a skinny child, compared to Tamara’s curvy frame. Tamara knew she turned all men’s and even some women’s eyes. She always had. People had always fantasized about her and lusted after her. And Oliver had been no different. She let him have her a few times. What did it matter to her? Sex was nothing new. She had always been surrounded by it. She was born in a brothel. Her mother, a black-haired beauty like Tamara, had been the favored prostitute of the establishment. Madame Keisha, the painted, red-haired woman who owned the pleasure hotel, had pulled the bloody, screaming Tamara from between the quivering legs of Lorraine, Tamara’s mother. It had been a cold winter night and the room was so frigid that a hazy mist steamed from Tamara’s wet body. Her balled-up fist struck out angrily at the world. Madame Kiesha placed the infant on her mother’s working bed, the very bed Tamara had been conceived on, and looked up at Lorraine, who was exhausted. It had been a hard and long labor. Madame Keisha expected both mother and child to die. She was still afraid that her most popular girl would. Her business would not be as prosperous without Lorraine. She had the beauty the clients only dreamed of having, but would pay highly to have, if only for the night. “It’s a girl,” Madame Keisha said, looking down at the squirming infant shivering in the cold. Little puffs of cool air blew out of her wailing blue lips. “She should have died,” Lorraine whispered weakly on her side. A tear ran down her sweaty, pasty face. “Who will marry a whore’s daughter? She will be a whore too. Like mother, like daughter,” Lorraine sobbed. Madame Keisha lifted the wiggling Tamara to her mother’s breast. Lorraine wished she could have feelings for the child. The child was from her body, but she just could not love her. She did not even know who the child’s pa was. He could be any of the foulsmelling rogues who frequented the establishment. The thought of the men who came to pleasure themselves on her made Lorraine sick. This child was a product of one of those encounters. Lorraine had hoped that maybe it had been one of the wealthier clients. Maybe even one of the young virgin boys whose daddy or older brother had treated them on a birthday. She was an expensive product. It was something to relax her mind for a moment. But there were the few scoundrels who, captivated by her beauty, spent a month’s salary just to pump her for a few moments of pleasure. The thought that one of these men could have fathered her child sickened her. The baby cried angrily, begging to be fed. Lorraine placed a hard nipple into the child’s mouth to stop the fury of the infant. She laid her head down upon her pillow, feeling her child feed from her and cried. Tamara grew up watching her mother with countless men. She always craved the love Lorraine seemed to give them and not her. Only when Tamara had been sick would Lorraine sit by Tamara’s small bed that was beside her mother’s and feed her soup, humming a tuneless hymn. When Tamara was seven, her mother was killed. She had told a favored customer that she was pregnant. The man was enraged and strangled Lorraine while Tamara slept peacefully beside them. Tamara never cried when Madame Keisha and two of the other girls who worked for her removed her mother’s limp corpse from the stained sheets of the bed. Madame Keisha pulled Tamara aside after her mother’s body had been taken away. “Tamara, your mother has left us, child. It is a great loss to my business. But she did have you and you will garner a great price. The beautiful daughter of Lorraine, even more beautiful than she, and still pure. You will be my greatest profit.” The heavily made-up woman spoke, her eyes visibly calculating the income that would come in with the price of Tamara’s virginity. “I will auction you off to the highest bidder. The gentlemen will bid high, very high for your young beauty and unspoiled body.” Tamara said nothing. She was aware of the virgin auctions. She had no intention of having the filthy creatures who groaned naked over her mother do the same to her. That very night when the brothel was packed with customers and laughter, Tamara slipped out of the establishment when everyone was too busy to notice. Madame Kiesha never saw her again. Tamara shook her head. That was a long time ago. She had survived. Sometimes by the very means she had run away from. Men seemed to desire her, wanted to possess her. Tamara just shrugged it off. They could have her body if she needed the money, but they would never possess her. Eventually, years later, she met Carter, Adam and Todd. They treated her like one of them. For the first time in her life, she felt she belonged to a family. Others joined the group. Some left, some stayed. Although there were the few boys who felt they could have Tamara, she had never allowed it. Not until Oliver showed up, so handsome and charming. She never minded lying in his arms. In fact, she loved the way he touched and caressed her. She glanced over at Jobeth and noticed her pallor. “What do you have against me, Tamara?” Jobeth breathed heavily, the back of her hand pressed against her moist mouth. “Nothin’.” Tamara stiffly turned away. Guilt kept surfacing in her conscience. She turned the ham, which had begun to release a delicious aroma. “Don’t lie, Tamara. You don’t like me. If you just got to know me, we could be friends.” It would be better for the two girls to be friends. When Jobeth’s monthly started, she would like a girlfriend to confide in about womanly woes. “We are living together. I just thought we might as well get along with each other instead of being at each other throats.” A cruel laugh escaped Tamara’s lips. Her anger had returned. She placed her hands on her rounded hips and spread her legs apart. “Hell, I don’t need to like you.” Her lips curved into a hateful grin. Black hair swept out behind her in defiance. Tamara was indeed an enchantress. One that Jobeth knew she would never be. Not that Jobeth was ugly. She had her own special qualities, but Tamara was a gorgeous creature. “If yah want to know why I don’t like yah, well, I’ll tell yah. Yah nearly fainted when I swore. Yah think you’re all high and mighty with your proper English. I bet yah even went to school.” Tamara was wild. She had seen Jobeth’s type before. Even though Jobeth was dressed worse than her, she knew her type: the type of girls who whispered and laughed about Tamara. The type of girls who called her names, names for people like her mother. Jobeth was like those girls and that was what attracted Oliver. Jobeth was no whore’s daughter. “You don’t belong with us! You ain’t one of us! Go back wherever you came from!” The ham started to burn unattended, giving off a charcoal smell. Smoke swirled up from the fire, mingling with Jobeth’s tears, blinding her vision. “No!” She shrieked with all the force she had. Shawna and Tamara both jumped in union. Shawna dropped the dolls she was playing with and ran over to Jobeth, trembling like a leaf. Jobeth bent down and hugged her tight to her swollen breast. “I cannot. We can’t ever go back. I am like you. I went to school when Mama and Pappy were alive. Yes, I liked it, but when they died and I went to live--” Jobeth stopped. Shawna was sobbing holding tightly to her waist. She took a deep breath and looked straight into Tamara’s surprised face. “I have not been to school since my parents died. That was a lifetime ago. I was another person. Please try and like me. I want us to be friends. I am not high and mighty-I am far from high and mighty. We can’t leave. We just can’t. And you will just have to live with that whether you want to or not.” Jobeth’s back felt naked as she stretched herself straight. Tamara would not defeat her. She would never be defeated by anyone again. She hugged Shawna defensively and began to whisper comforts into her ear. Shawna had become the little sister she never had. The little sister to replace the little brother she had lost. If only Tamara knew what had happened to them, to Jobeth. Maybe she would be more understanding. Maybe Tamara wouldn’t be so mean. Jobeth tightened her lips angrily. She would never tell anyone about the horrors of her recent past, especially Tamara. Tamara looked at Shawna whimpering and clutching Jobeth around the neck. She was astonished by Jobeth’s outburst and a little amused. Jobeth might have guts after all. “Stop crying, Shawna.” Tamara said softly. “I guess I can try to get along with your skinny old bones.” She began to turn the burning ham, avoiding the two clinging figures behind her. “I guess it ain’t your fault the way yah are. Just don’t get all mushy on me. I just can’t stand that.” “Thank you,” Jobeth swelled, smiling comfortingly to Shawna.

— Chapter 4 — Jobeth and Shawna tracked up the dirt road, exhausted from a long day’s travel. Sweaty and covered with dust, they stopped to rest, collapsing at the side of the powdery brown road. Breathing heavily, Jobeth wiped her grimy brow and glanced at Shawna. The wee child lay on her back with her eyes closed, her chest rising evenly up and down. A small hand rested on her sooty forehead. Color had quickly come to Shawna’s pale cheeks during the four weeks they had been on the run. Traveling had transformed the little girl into a healthy five year old. Jobeth sighed with contentment. She was not regretting her decision to take Shawna with her. From the moment she had decided that the little girl was to be her responsibility, the child had become dearer and dearer to her. In the month they had traveled together, Jobeth came to realize that she needed Shawna as much as Shawna needed her. Time wandering in the wilderness had faded the bruises that blackened Jobeth’s body; but the bruises that surrounded her heart were still painful and tender to the touch. If she had not been responsible for Shawna, she would have given up a long time ago. When she was too exhausted to walk any farther, Shawna would look at her with such hope and admiration that Jobeth would rather die than disillusion her young charge. So she trudged on, dragging both weary feet forward, always wondering where they would sleep that night. Since they had escaped from Father James and Mother Tomalina, the girls slept in barns and fields--any place that was warm and dry. Miraculously, the second week out on the road to freedom, Jobeth stopped soiling herself at night. Although she still had the nightmares of her parent’s death, they were not as frequent as they had been at the home of the Johnston’s. Jobeth lay down beside Shawna and looked up into the blue sky. There was not a cloud to be seen and it amazed her again how quickly the sunny day could turn dark and cold. The weather was changing; winter was just around the corner and they would need permanent shelter from the elements during the days when the earth would be covered with snow. Once she thought she had found a place to stay for the winter. It was their third week traveling and they had come across a small shack that seemed to be abandoned. There was a small wood stove that could keep them warm through the cold days and nights ahead. It had seemed perfect for their immediate needs. Jobeth happily roasted a rabbit that was caught earlier that morning in a snare she made. Shawna sat by her feet cleaning some wild onions and the remainder of their carrots. Jobeth was telling Shawna another story about her family, how her Pappy taught her how to make traps and how to live off the land Shawna listened wide-eyed, envious of Jobeth because she had known her parents, whereas Shawna had not. Jobeth seemed to have endless stories about her rugged frontier father and the woman he fell in love with. She was listening intently to Jobeth’s tales when the door of the shack crashed open—both girls jumped up with a start. “Hey yah brats. Git outta ma house!” bellowed a burly bearded man dressed from head to toe in furs. Both girls leapt to their feet and clung to each other. The rabbit, forgotten, fell into the fire. Spitting juicy fat, it began to burn. Shawna whimpered, hiding behind Jobeth’s skirt. Shaken by the sight of the first person she had seen since running away, Jobeth nearly lost her legs. Bile rose in her throat and she prayed she would not vomit. “I says, git!” the fur-clad man roared, barreling toward them. Startled into action, Jobeth grabbed Shawna and their bag of meager belongings and quickly swung them around the man and out the door. The man grunted and bent to remove the burning rabbit from the stove. He ripped off a side of meat from the tender carcass and popped the flesh into his mouth, smiling. He was hungry and the meat tasted good. Jobeth continued to run with Shawna clinging to her tightly. She ran until her lungs screamed out in pain and the weight of the small child’s arms around her neck began to feel like a noose slowing her down. Finally Jobeth stopped and placed the sobbing girl down. Unable to control the churning of her belly, Jobeth turned from Shawna and let go of the yellow acidic contents of her stomach. She continued to dry heave, her insides contracting painfully, and wondered again how they would go on. Drops of sweat beaded on Jobeth’s forehead, and she absently wiped them away with a shaking hand. The world wavered before her. Dropping painfully to her knees, she closed her eyes, willing the dizziness and nausea to go away. Hiccupping, Shawna crawled on all fours up beside Jobeth. “Was, he going to kill us?” “No, no one will ever hurt us again.” Jobeth struggled to whisper and began to vomit the foul-tasting bile again. Jobeth breathed deeply of the autumn air, clearing her mind briefly. It had been over a week since they encountered the fur-clad man. The problem of where they would stay for winter was still unanswered. “Come on, Shawna. We best be on our way. We need to find a place to sleep tonight,” Jobeth said. Shawna had fallen into a light sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, yawning. Without a word of complaint, she stood up and dusted herself off. She sensed Jobeth was panicking, but did not say a word. Shawna had never been happier in her life. Jobeth showered love upon the lonely child, a love she had only experienced once before--with her sister, Donna. But even Donna’s love was shadowed by the coldness that enveloped the house of Mother Tomalina and Father James. To remember Donna was to remember how her sister died and the ugliness that shadowed their lives. So now she followed Jobeth, trusting and faithful. Now that she had experienced love and felt its healing power, Shawna could not live without it. They walked for what seemed like an hour when they saw a barn and a house up ahead. Most of the windows were broken and the place looked ready to fall down upon itself. “This looks like home for the night.” Jobeth sighed, exhausted. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep an eternity of sleep. She had never felt so tired in her life. Slowly, they dragged their battered bodies up the rotten stairs in front of the house. Brown grass sprang through a hole in one of the steps, enticing an unsuspecting foot to break through. Jobeth grabbed Shawna under her arm to prevent her from going through the decayed step. “It’s scary.” Shawna spoke softly as Jobeth opened the door. It let out a painful thin squeal. She hesitantly put a foot forward, taking Shawna with her. The floor groaned in protest. Walking through the bitterly cold house, stale air assaulted their nostrils. Huge dark walls loomed before them, dwarfing the two girls. “It’s not eerie, Shawna. Why, look at these rooms! This was probably once a beautiful, rich home,” Jobeth said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. The truth was if the old dwelling had once been beautiful, it was a very long time ago. Shawna gulped and held fast to Jobeth’s hand. “I guess you’re right.” The tiny voice said hoarsely, her eyes wide with only a hint of the haunted girl in them. “Of course I’m right.” Jobeth said, trying to convince herself as she walked forward. They crept all over the house looking into spider-webbed rooms with broken floors and corners filled with mouse droppings. Finally, Jobeth opened the door to a small room that was fairly clean compared to the rest of the house. There were five dirty straw mattresses littering the floor. “This is home for the night.” Jobeth said, crawling onto the largest one. Shawna mouth clamped tight, looked behind her shoulder at the darkness beyond and quickly jumped in beside Jobeth. They cuddled close together. The mattress was soft and comfortable compared to the sleeping arrangements to which they had grown accustomed. Exhausted, Jobeth closed her eyes and tried not to think about the soft down bed she once slept in, in another life. It was best to erase the memory of her mother tucking bright, clean quilts around her--quilts she helped make. “Sweet dreams, Jobeth,” her mother’s soft voice would say as she blew out the lamp. “And remember, God is always watching over you. He is always there to protect you.” Jobeth would nod drowsily, feeling happy and content. She had no reason to disbelieve her mama. Life was filled with happiness and love. And life had always been that way. She sniffed. A single tear squeezed out from her closed eye. Where is God now, Mama? Jobeth screamed in her head. Why isn’t He protecting me anymore? Angry voices woke Jobeth from a deep, dreamless sleep. She fought to awake from the darkness that had swallowed her. Shawna was already awake and clinging to Jobeth for dear life. Her fingers dug into Jobeth’s arm like tiny needles, forcing her to come back from the darkness of her mind. “It’s all right, Shawna,” Jobeth put her arm around the trembling little girl. She was shaky and disoriented herself. Looking up toward the noise to see what or whom they were about to face, she felt fear. It had been so long since Jobeth had been in contact with people other than Shawna. They had avoided contact, as much as possible, with other people they saw on the road, hiding in bushes until it was safe. People hurt people, and they could hurt her and Shawna. A heavy feeling pressed down firmly on her chest. People could do worse: they could take Shawna from her, leaving her alone once more. That was something Jobeth would not let happen. No one would take Shawna from her. She looked up toward the screaming noises with hooded eyes, prepared to defend herself and her charge. Crowded around the mattress, like soldiers at a siege, stood six yelling boys and one shrieking girl. “They ain’t got no right in ma house!” caterwauled the girl with jet black, curly hair that frizzed out wildly around her face. Her eyes were like black rubies and seemed to be alive with fire. Her tattered brown dress fit her curvy shape snugly; her breasts heaved angrily, about to pop out of the extremely low-cut neck line. “Now Tamara, this just ain’t the way to act.” The boy receiving her fury fumed. He was an odd-looking boy who looked like he was about sixteen or seventeen years of age. He had sandy brown hair and a round, flat face with green cat-like eyes. He stood uncomfortably, gangly with his newly developed height, and stared back at the black-haired beauty. Jobeth felt numb. She wondered if she should grab Shawna and run. She felt so tired--she did not think she could outrun the group surrounding them. Another boy, with hair just as dark as the girl’s, noticed that the two terrified strangers were awake. Jobeth caught sight of him from the corner of her eyes and flinched back, holding Shawna protectively in her arms. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, ready to beat out onto the dirty floor at any moment. “Hello,” he said kindly, his deep blue eyes penetrating through Jobeth. Her breath escaped her for a moment. The boy was the most handsome person she had ever seen. Before she had time to compose herself, everyone else in the room was circling her and Shawna with questioning faces. “My name is Oliver,” he said, eyes twinkling. “And the two you just heard fighting over there are Tamara and Alan.” Oliver offered his scruffy hand slowly to Jobeth in a friendly manner. Shawna smiled hesitantly at Jobeth. She could not help herself. Oliver had already won her over with his handsome good looks and his charming smile. Jobeth twisted her lips as she watched the admiration in Shawna’s blushing face and was suddenly angry. Jumping up, she pulled Shawna with her. It didn’t matter how tired she was, she was not staying any longer in this house. Shawna frowned, confused by Jobeth’s hostility, and hid behind Jobeth’s legs. Jobeth immediately felt guilty and her anger slipped away as quickly as it had come. She cleared her throat and tried to decide whether to say something. “I am Jobeth and this is…” she pulled Shawna in front of her, almost defiantly, and glanced at the one called Tamara. At first she thought the black-haired girl was older than she was. But with a closer look, they seemed to be about the same age. “this is Shawna.” Tamara glared back with distaste. Shaken by the fiery female in front of her, Jobeth straightened her back. “We’ve been traveling for weeks,” she continued, looking around the room for a reaction. Everyone was quiet and seemed to be listening with interest, with the exception of Tamara, who had turned her back to them all. Her long black hair hung like a jungle of vines to her petite waist. Jobeth had never seen such hair before. She found it quite striking, even if she was taken aback by Tamara’s apparent resentment of her. “We thought the house was empty. We only planned to stay the night and leave in the morning.” Jobeth finished. She looked down on Shawna’s platinum head trying hard not to think of the situation they were in. Her eyes stung with fatigue and the fight in her was quickly escaping. “Well, yah see it ain’t empty,” Tamara hollered, turning around quickly, her hair flying madly about her. The boy, Alan, nudged her with his elbow, glaring at Tamara angrily. She looked back at him with as much venom. Jobeth and Shawna both jumped at Tamara’s outburst. Straightening her shoulders again, she looked directly at Tamara, whose chest was still heaving angrily. Jobeth felt like crying. She was so tired and felt so sick. Her limbs felt like dead weights hanging helplessly from her shoulders. She simply did not have the energy to battle this stranger. Her mouth began to water and Jobeth fought back the urge to gag. “I am terribly sorry if we have caused anyone any inconvenience. We’ll just be on our way.” Jobeth grasped Shawna’s hand and plunged forward, dragging her out of the tension-filled room. Her throat tightened and her eyes began to burn with tears. Every muscle in her body cried out for rest. She was defeated. It was late and too cold to sleep outside. “Now just hold on there, Jobeth,” a male voice interrupted. She stopped in her tracks. Saliva pooled in the inside of her mouth behind her bottom lip, but she didn’t dare to do a thing about it. The voice sounded like the odd-looking boy with the round face who had just argued with Tamara. What is his name? “Yes?” Jobeth asked. Her back still faced the voice. She squeezed Shawna’s hand hard feeling her wince in pain. Alan stared at the straight, thin back of the peculiar girl as she clutched tightly to the ghostly white child. His chest tightened at her stubborn refusal to turn and face him. He looked to Oliver, questioning him with a raised right eyebrow. Oliver nodded his head, giving Alan the answer he wanted. “Yah two are welcome to stay here.” Alan spoke quickly before the spooked girl ran out of the house with her little waif in tow. Jobeth closed her mouth and held her breath. She really did not want to stay, but she was so tired and --something she didn’t want to admit--she was lonely. The last person she had spoken to who was her own age was Judith. Judith was Jobeth’s best friend before her parents accident. She cried with Jobeth after her parents were killed. She also wept, her red pig-tailed head buried into Jobeth’s shoulder, before Jobeth was sent to live with her new foster parents. “I will never forget you, Jobeth,” Judith had pledged the day Jobeth left. They had clung together, two friends never to see each other again, their lives headed in opposite directions. Jobeth pulled away from Judith’s freckled, wet face and climbed into the wagon. Her belongings were packed neatly in a small chest in the back, secured with thick ropes. “I will never forget you either, Judith,” Jobeth promised as the horses pulled away from the sobbing girl. She waved frantically at Judith, but her friend, overcome with grief, ran away, her hands covering her face, unable to bear seeing her friend leave. She hadn’t thought of Judith since she entered the doors of the Johnston home. And she did not want to think of her now. Judith would be appalled to see what had become of Jobeth’s life. Suddenly Nick came to mind. The boy Jobeth had spoken with at Mother Tomalina and Father James’. He was tough and scarred from battles fought too young in life, but full of life and laughter regardless. Judith would have wrinkled her brown spotted nose at Nick. But Jobeth had rather liked him. She then thought of the ragged lot behind her. They were like Nick. She looked down at her thin, faded dress. She had given Shawna her tattered sweater to keep her warm. It hung down to Shawna’s knees, causing her to look lost in the stretched garment, but it at least kept the chill out, if only a little. Jobeth fingered the material of her dress. She would freeze with nothing but its flimsy cover. Judith would not be caught dead in a rag dress like the one Jobeth wore. She was like Nick now. She was like the people behind her: tough and scarred, ragged on the inside and out. No, I am still different, she thought. I am mostly dead inside. Only the darkness of dreamless sleep soothes my soul. “There ain’t no place for yah to go and we don’t mind the extra company at all. Plus, that there little one don’t look like she can go nowheres but bed.” Alan’s voice cut into Jobeth’s thoughts. He knew Jobeth was seriously weighing his offer. He refrained from mentioning that she looked as though she would drop in her own shoes at any moment. Finally, turning to the voice speaking to her, Jobeth surveyed Alan. He had strong, green, cat-like eyes. A strand of hair bobbed up and down on his forehead, giving Jobeth the feeling that Alan was a boy fighting in a man’s body. She looked away, blushing, feeling she had seen something private and personal about him. The other boys in the room were all smiling at her, trying to make her feel welcomed. Her eyes came to rest and widened on a child’s face that sat oddly on a young man’s body. He flashed Jobeth a wonderful, bright smile. She could not help staring, speechless. The boy’s skin was a deep, rich chocolate brown. Embarrassed by her rudeness, she turned her gaze quickly to the handsome raven-haired Oliver. “Stay, Jobeth. We’d all like you to stay.” Oliver walked over toward the hesitant girl and placed a warm hand on her bony shoulder. Jobeth instinctively pulled back, repulsed, but then relaxed as Oliver gently coaxed them back into the room by taking Shawna’s small hand. Unable to help themselves, they both followed Oliver shyly. Alan stood alone and held his breath. Anger began to burn in his chest. Oliver’s smooth talking had again worked its magic. Jobeth glanced back over her shoulder at Alan, who looked lost and awkward. His heart pounded heavily in his ribcage. This new girl was different. He could tell she wasn’t like them, even though she looked like it. She had come from better--a flower hidden in the weeds. He smiled awkwardly and blushed because it felt silly and forced. Jobeth grinned weakly back and turned away. Alan lowered his head, feeling like a fool. “Humph,” Tamara smirked, moving to stand beside Alan. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to compose himself. Tamara stood righteously with her arms tensely crossed over her large breasts. Her exposed cleavage bulged in Alan’s face. “What now, Tamara?” Alan steamed, looking away from her chest and back to Jobeth, who sat quietly listening to Oliver. “Seems Oliver found a new toy to play with, don’t it, Alan?” she asked, nastily pursing her red lips together. She cackled, noticing Alan’s red face and walked over to the other side of the room where Jonah, the black boy who had shocked Jobeth, sat. Tamara plunked down beside Jonah as graceful as a lump of clay and continued to smirk at Alan. His attention veered from Tamara, tired of her obnoxious ways, and went back to watching the new girl. Jobeth was putting Shawna back down on the mattress they had been sleeping on. Oliver was talking a mile a minute and Alan could not help noticing Jobeth shyly smiling back. His heart pounded painfully again. Absently, he reached up and rubbed at the pulsing muscle beneath his chest. His fingers moved up and down in rhythm to his heart. His fingers tingled warmly with the motion. Jobeth was the most unusual girl he had ever seen.