Anne, his mother (draft)

We finish supper and I ask Nelson, "Do you want a piece a cake? Bertha brought it. She's like that."

"No, Momma, I don't want any I told you. I already had some pie. I'll put it up for tomorrow."

In that ill tone he uses more and more the older he gets. He knew what was right even when he was growing up. Carl was a sweet boy.

"Now don't put it in that calvinator. That thing just kills the taste in some food."

"I don't see why you say that. They say people can't taste as much when they grow older. Maybe that's it."

Now what does he know about that , that's what I'd like to know. First it's my eyes, now it's my mouth. Sometimes I feel like I did in the Depression when we had to sell off pieces of land just to stay ahead, our property line getting closer all the time. I get my cane and make my way to my rocker.

He comes out of the kitchen toward me. Like watching someone come out of a dark tunnel. Or a mine. That makes me think of something. Carl. "Nelson, go on and read me that letter now. I been waiting all day."

"I mean to if you just give me time to get my glasses." He clomps off to the bedroom. Heavy old boots. It seems like there's something else I mean to mention to him. Then it comes to me. "Nelson, you want some cake? Bertha brought some. She's good like that."

"Huh-uh, I just got through saying no. Lessee. Here's what he says--no, wait, it's not Carl's handwriting, it's Molly's. Here goes:

Dear Momma Tucker and Nelson,
Hope this finds you doing good or better than us. I told you last time Carl was having some breathing problems that was making him miss work a lot. Well like they say when it rains it pours. The Dr. says Carls lungs gets worse all the time, and this is one time in my life I know a Dr. is making some sense. Some days Carl says it feels like somebody is holding a pillow over his face. The Dr. calls it black lung. The company done told him he cant work in the mines no more because he misses too much work. We already knowed he cant anyway, even if they let him. So now that all the kids is married off, Carl and me been thinking about coming back to North Carolina to live with you and Nelson. What do you think? Carl would rather be there if it really is his last years coming and even if its not maybe the clean air there would do him good. We both had our fill of West Virginia. I can help out around the place and take some of the load off Nelsons shoulders. Nelson have you caught another woman yet? I know they must be knocking at your door. Let us hear from you soon.
Love,
Carl and Molly

I expect a remark about finding another woman. But he don't let on. Instead he gets up and grabs the poker and gives a log a quick turn on the fire. It blazes up so I look away. When it's too bright it's like the sun shining through a dusty windshield. Course Nelson don't let no dust stay on his windshield more'n five or ten minutes if he can help it. "Don't sound too good, Momma." He stands there warming his hands, palms out.

"Lord, Lord. I wish he'd never gone off to them coal mines in the first place." Carl. Some people know from instinct how to look out for theirself. Like Nelson. He always watches. But Carl, he jumps in headlong.

Nelson says, "I don't see what good that'd do. Looks like they'd want to stay at their own home."

"This is Carl's home too if he wants it to be. I bet he's got money problems if he ain't been working regular. Maybe they need to sell. Remember we did before."

"Hmph. No maybe to it. When's Carl not had money problems?"

I've been thinking about something a few months, ever since we first found out about Carl's health. It seems like the time to bring it up. "Nelson, there's something I want to tell you. I been thinking awhile now that seeing as how I already give you your place that this place ought to go to Carl when I'm gone."

He springs up. "To Carl? To Carl? Well if that don't beat all. After all these years I stayed here? What's he ever done for you except write for money?"

"Well he's done all he could. He had a bigger family than you, you know, and he had to buy his own place."

"You're serious, ain't you?"

"Yes."

"Damn it all. Damn it all to hell. Why does EVERthing always get taken away from me?"

"What? What're you talking about , everthing? You've got your own place. You just took it twenty years ago stead a taking it now, that's all."

"That ain't what I mean. It's just one thing in a line, that's all. Ain't it ever goina end? Look at May. I can't say I ever knowed what in the world was going on in her head. I don't think she did either. But I loved her as much as I could. So what did she do when I was off in the War trying to do what was ever man's duty? Dean wadn't dead six months before she packed up that little suitcase and took off. Like that was the end of the marriage. When I heard about my boy all I could think of was seeing her again. I felt like life had tore into my chest and grabbed my heart and squeezed every drop of blood out of it. Three or four years before I felt like a human being again."

He's walking around and fidgeting at the fireplace. I wish he'd sit down. He's so tall I have to look up, and the light bothers my eyes. Them electric light bulbs is too bright, I don't care what people says. Now he stands still and puts his forefinger and his thumb at each corner of his lips. I guess I seen him do that a million times if I seen it once.

"I tell you," he says, "I'm goina fix my heart on something that caint get tore away from it. And guard it like a dog with a old soup bone. I loved the woman--she left. I loved the boy--he's dead. I took care of this place all my life and now you want Carl to have it just because he's got a little cough and he's getting scared? Nobody held a gun to his head to make him go off to West Virginia. It all gets took away from you in the end except faith in the Savior."

Nelson turns around and glares at me in that bright light and then it happens for the first time. All of a sudden I see part of another Nelson standing to one side of him, in front of another fireplace. It takes my breath a second but I ain't scared. Dr. Weaver told me this might happen one of these days. He said the catarack is like a prison and can split light in half. I don't claim that makes sense to me. But he said I might see double some time. I put my forehead on my hands and rub my eyes.

"Momma, what's wrong?" He squats down beside me.

"The light's aggavatin my eyes."

"Here, I'll turn it off and we'll use the lamp."

I put my hand over my right eye and look again. That helps. It's a lot worse than the other one. Things stop blurring and move back together. I feel around with my free hand. "Where's my cane got to?"

"Right there on the arm of your chair. Where you a-goin?"

"Bertha brought us a cake today. I can't remember what I did with it."

"Momma, I wish you'd stop about that cake. That must be five times you mentioned it since I got home."

"Oh. I guess I'll sit here and rock then." He has that ill tone again. "Nelson, you know I think religion's a fine thing. But it's not the only thing. You're plenty young enough to think about getting married again."

"Maybe so. But sometimes I feel like life is already closing down around me."

I smile at him, but I don't say anything. I just feel like rocking. Sometimes motion's a comfort whether it gets [takes] you any place or not.

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Version Notes

Initial release 1.0: October 19, 1995
Last update 1.0: May 26, 1996