On Agate Hill

  WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, sir, I don’t know why you keep saying the scene of the crime, it wasn’t no crime that I know of, leastways not involving her. It might well of been a robbery, now, that’s what I’ve been saying all along . . . Yes sir. I am doing my best, sir. Okay.

  The store? Well it’s just a store, I reckon, same as any store, except it’s got the dance hall up on top, like I said. There’s two doors, see, and a staircase over here at the side, so you can go in that way if you’re just coming in and out of the dance hall. Fine oak floor, top and bottom, Big Jack had the lumber milled and hauled up here from Mellicoo. Got those pressed tin ceilings from New Orleans. Yessir, it was a fine store.

  That store was my whole life from the time I could walk until the incident we are talking about.

  Well, not much, to be honest with you. Seems like I can’t hardly work up an interest in anything these days, and then there’s Uncle Hat and Aunt Belle to take care of, she has got up real old now. No sir. Belle aint never got married, to this day. But she is still hoping.

  Yessir. The store. We sold near about everything you can think of, I reckon, from cradles to caskets, as Big Jack used to say. Matter of fact, Old Roscoe and his buddy Horace Kemp used to straddle two caskets piled up one on top of the other and play checkers between them. It weren’t too reverent, I reckon, but then a store is not a reverent place. It is a place for playing cards, swapping stories, and talking politics, whittling and chewing and arguing religion, and griping about the rain, or no rain, and hiding out from your wife, and laying off of work.

  We had two long display counters with shelves behind them and ceiling-high track ladders running the length of the store, so we could get up there to get things, now that was my first job when I was a little boy, not but about four or five years old.

  Yes sir. It was my life, sir.

  Well, let’s see. We sold cloth, buttons, needle and thread, papers of straight pins, dye, candles, overhauls, gloves, boots, fancy combs and hairpins, lamp oil and globes, wicks and those big old three-inch matches, octagon soap, scissors and razors, pots and pans, skillets and teakettles, tools, brooms, rope, cowbells, washboards, woodstoves and stovepipes, everything from straw hats to chamber pots. Had horse collars, leather saddles, bridles, and harnesses hung on the wall. Had a real pretty eight-sided revolving hardware cabinet up on the counter, the latest thing. Glass case for penny candy such as jawbreakers, red hots, gum drops, peppermint and horehound sticks, and those all-day suckers, now that was our most popular item. We carried tins of Lucky Strike tobacco along with Bull Durham and Sweet Caporal cigarettes, rolling papers, boxes of snuff, and plugs of chewing tobacco. Tobacco cutter and cheese cutter up on the counter along with them fancy brass scales from Germany. Soda, baking powder, salt, spices, cornstarch—then those big old sacks of sugar, flour, coffee beans, rice and dried beans on the floor. Six, eight, ten, and sixteen penny size nails, horseshoe nails, and carpet tacks — seems like those nail kegs would always end up around the stove where everybody liked to sit. We carried potted ham, sardines, cheese and johnnycrackers for eating on the spot. Old wagon seats and chairs over there too, and a big old peach can for a spittoon until Molly Petree allowed as how I ought to get a proper one, which I did.

  Wasn’t long before she was behind the counter herself, rolling up the prettiest little paper bags and packages you ever saw for sugar and salt and such, tying them off with string. She’d make a bow with the string. She’d draw a little animal on the paper, for the kids. Added up the sums in her head. She could do it with three, four, six, eight, twelve numbers. People came in from all over to see her do it, they’d check her on a piece of paper. She wasn’t never wrong. At first folks didn’t like it, you know, a woman working in a store like that, and then they kindly got adjusted, and then they took to it in a big way, and then later when she started up the storehouse school, why, everybody was plumb crazy about her.

  Jacky was too. I’ll have to hand it to him. Molly Petree was Jack’s equal in everything, and he hadn’t ever had an equal before, but he rose to the occasion, I have to say.

  THEY CAME RIGHT UP here to get her, of course.

  It was early morning, three or four days after he had brung her. First thing that happened was, a ragged little girl from up on Whitetail had come in with four Dominicker chickens, two in one hand and two in the other, tied together at the legs, squawking and flapping like crazy. She took them over to Molly, who jumped back. Why BJ, what in the world am I supposed to do with these? she asked.

  Jacky was sitting on the wagon seat over there by the stove, fooling with a banjo and drinking coffee. He looked up and started laughing. Molly’s scared of chickens, he said.

  Why, I am not, she said.

  Here, I’ll take them. I came around the counter. I was going to put them in one of those cages back there, then Mister Cooper would pick them up and take them on to Damascus and sell them. But first I had to see how much they weighed, so I’d know how much the little girl could get for them. We pay a little more for Dominickers.

  Mama wants some powder, the little girl said, and Granny needs some snuff, and we ain’t got nothing to eat in the house.

  Molly leaned down to her. Why, we will fix you up, honey, she said. What is your name?

  Lucy Hill, the little girl said. She was still struggling to hold the chickens.

  Here, I said.

  But Molly snatched them up. She set one bunch up on the scale and managed to write down their weight before they flapped off. She threw those in the cage and came back with the second bunch, real proud of herself. Just a minute now, Lucy, she said over the squawking, this must have been about the time the door opened, I reckon, but we didn’t none of us hear the bell. Molly was trying to weigh the second bunch when the string that was tying their legs together busted and both of them started flapping and squawking and we all jumped in to grab them. Jacky started laughing and the little girl started crying. Feathers was flying everywhere. The chickens were knocking everything off the counter into the floor — you never saw such a mess. Broke one of the candy jars and sent jawbreakers all over the place. One of the chickens went straight for Molly’s hair, and then she started crying too. By the time Jacky and me got them all back there into the cage, the counter was plumb covered with feathers, it looked like snow.

  Jacky came back and took Molly in his arms and kissed her real solid. I gave the little girl a biscuit.

  It looks like you are having a busy morning, Mr. Felix Boykin said, and we all looked up to see him and Mrs. Todd — Miss Rutherford, that was back then — the other teacher down at Bobcat.

  Yes we are, for a fact. Jacky didn’t miss a beat, with his arms still around Molly. Welcome to Plain View. I’m Jacky Jarvis, and this here is Mrs. Jarvis.

  Mrs. Jarvis squealed and ran over and flung her arms around Miss Rutherford, and then they both was crying. I hadn’t had so many crying women in the store since that time those two Letcher sisters got in a fight over a man.

  Why don’t you all sit down over here by the stove? Jacky said, and we’ll see if BJ can make some more coffee.

  I was just fixing to do that, I said.

  I parched the coffee beans, Molly sniffled, not letting go of Jacky. Didn’t I, BJ?

  She sure did, I said.

  Oh Molly. Miss Rutherford was still crying but she let herself be led over to the stove and set down on the old wagon seat. She was a plain honest-looking kind of a woman with everything she felt wrote large upon her face, all the worry and disappointment she was going through. I didn’t blame her none for it. In fact I thought highly of her.

  I am so happy, Molly said to them all, standing up straight in spite of her tears. Believe me, Agnes, I had to do it.

  Miss Agnes looked at her for a long time. I believe you. She smiled too. Mariah always said you were liable to do anything.

  And it ain’t no telling what she might do next. We are watching her like a hawk! Jacky said, and everybody laughed. He struck up a
tune on the banjo, and I came around with some biscuits and some fresh coffee, and Lucy Hill climbed up onto Molly’s lap. Before Lucy left, I got her everything she wanted for the Dominickers, plus some extra cash money, and then Mister Boykin loaded her down with the awfullest amount of things just for her, socks and combs and candy and the like.

  I used to know your father, Mister Boykin said to Jacky. He was quite a man. I remember back when he had that pet bear tied up out there in front of the store —

  Well, the upshot of it was that we set there until a whole big raft of people came in the store and we couldn’t set there any longer, and then Molly took them over and showed them her and Jacky’s house, all proud like, and Miss Agnes had Cicero Todd take her trunk of clothes out of the wagon and leave it there. Later they was to come back with books and I don’t know what all else, for the storehouse school.

  I reckon this was our heyday up on Plain View, looking back on it now. Heyday, now that’s a funny word, ain’t it? Part of a heyday is, you don’t never know you are having yourself one till later when it’s all over with, long gone. But that was our heyday for sure, and it lasted about three years.

  IT WAS STILL GOING on when Mister Black come up here the first time.

  Yes sir. That is Mister Simon Black, he was a right old man already by that time, walked with a silver-handled cane, but he had a way about him. A presence. He had this old Indian man with him too, or some kind of a thing, I don’t know. They come in the store and stood there right still, both of them saying nary a word, looking all around.

  Naturally I went over to them. Can I help you? I asked.

  First he asked for a drink of water, and I went back and got them each a drink in a tin cup, I don’t care if a Indian drinks out of one of my cups or not. They was here before I was, what I figure. But anyway, I come back, and now they was both standing over by the counter real still, and I felt — I don’t hardly know how to tell it — like they had looked all around, or something. Like they knowed everything we carried, and everything about us. The old man had a presence, as I said. I gave them the water and stood while they drunk it down.

  I am looking for Mrs. Jarvis, he said finally.

  The Indian didn’t say nothing.

  We have got some several Mrs. Jarvises up here, I said. Which one was it that you wanted to see? Though somehow I knowed already.

  Mrs. Jack Jarvis, he said, that is, the former Molly Petree from South Carolina. I was a friend of her father’s.

  Is that so? I said.

  In the War.

  The way he said it, you had to believe him. He had a kind of gravity himself, which a person needs up here, as I said.

  She ain’t here right now, I said, which was true. She had gone off gathering chestnuts with the rest of them, over in Crabtree Cove. I did not say that Jacky was not with them, having gone to play music at a wedding down in Bee.

  We will wait, then, Mister Black said. Perhaps you will show us around. This is a beautiful country up here. It reminds me of Peru.

  So I hollered for Calvin, and took off my apron, and toured them all over Rag Mountain. Now Mister Black was especially taken with the north slope that goes up there from Gum Branch where the old cabin is, and said it was good timber up there, as well as a fine prospect. I sat on the cabin steps smoking a cigarette while him and the Indian walked it from the tree line clear to the top. Once Mister Black stopped walking and made a big sweep of a gesture with his hands. I could hear them jabbering away to each other, him and the Indian, but I could not tell what they said because they were too far away and speaking in a language not American, I didn’t know what kind of a language it was. It is real pretty up there, you forget what a pretty place it is if you live here all the time, you know a feller can get used to anything.

  But still and all, it kindly took me by surprise when they come back down to the cabin and Mister Black asked me if any of this land was for sale.

  I am something of a speculator, he said.

  I sat there looking down the mountain. Why yes, sir, it is, I said.

  And might I inquire the price?

  Now we had not established a price, having never had a real offer before, but something got into me all of a sudden, and I quoted him a pure fortune, to my mind.

  Sold, Mister Black said, sticking out his hand.

  I will believe it when I see it, I thought, shaking hands.

  But when we got back down to the store, Mister Black nodded to the Indian who took off one of those leather pouches he had slung around himself and got out a roll of money and started peeling off greenback hundred-dollar bills which he put out on the counter.

  Whoa now, I said, Just hold your horses for a minute, sir, for I would have to talk to the rest of them, and get the deed drawed up, and so on. We would have to have us some lawyering.

  This is earnest money, Mister Black said. You think about it. He had left it right there on the counter, and turned to go, when in the door came Molly all rosy-faced and kind of wild-looking, followed by Betsy and Biddle and Nancy and Clara and all the children, fresh from chestnut gathering. They had a cart full out front to show for it. That was the most money you could get for anything, even ginseng. Folks has been killed over chestnuts.

  BJ, Molly started saying something to me, then she stopped dead, and crossed her arms. Why, Mister Black, she said in a different voice. What a surprise.

  He bowed from the waist like a man in a play. Mrs. Jarvis, he said, very formal-like. I come to offer you my congratulations on your marriage and to inquire after your welfare.

  Now everybody was looking at her and him.

  Calvin had come out of the back of the store and grabbed up Mister Black’s money off the counter and stood there holding it.

  As for your congratulations, Mister Black, I don’t need them, Molly spat out in a way that was not like her, that none of us had ever seen before. And as for my welfare, it is wonderful. In fact, I am going to have a baby.

  Oh Lord! Nancy cried, hugging her, for none of us had knowed a thing about it. Everybody started talking at once.

  Now who might this handsome gentleman be? Poor old Aunt Belle sailed out from the back with her hair standing out on one side of her head.

  Molly! Calvin hollered, waving the money like a fan.

  Mister Black inclined his head toward the Indian, then jerked it toward the door.

  Molly! Calvin run out from behind the counter with the money in his hand. He is buying the mountain, Molly.

  Molly looked down, and bit her lip, and then stepped forward like a soldier and reached for Mister Black’s hand. I believe I owe you an apology, she said. You have always been very kind to me. I seem to have lost my manners somewhere along the way up this mountain, but perhaps it is not too late for me to find them again.

  We kept looking back and forth between them. It was clear to all concerned that some water had passed under that bridge before.

  No apology is necessary, Mister Black said. I apologize to you, as far as that goes. I am an awkward man, and a solitary one, with unusual habits. Social discourse is hard for me. I find it difficult to say or do the right thing, or anything. You must understand that I do not have — nor have I ever had — any intention of bothering you, nor of troubling you in any way. It is simply that I have always had . . . an interest . . . in you and your family. I wish you well.

  Molly nodded, her arms across her stomach. I understand that, she said.

  The minute Simon Black and the Indian was out the door, Calvin started whooping and waving that money around like a kid.

  And the upshot of it was, we bought new shoes for the kids, and overcoats, and a new wagon, and a new toupee for Uncle Hat.

  Swannie got her leg took off down in Knoxville. Molly went with her, and stayed in a boardinghouse the whole time, Jacky visiting when he could, and bringing us the news.

  Swannie? She got plumb well, and learned to walk real good on one leg and some crutches, and got married to a boy down in W
arrensville and moved off the mountain, and had a passel of kids of her own. Had herself a life. Ain’t that what we all want, I reckon? Some kind of a life of our own.

  Mister Black? Well, he bought the mountain, of course, but he never done nothing with it. Fixed up the cabin some, and come up here from time to time, but very seldom, very irregular, and was always real cordial but never did mix with us none. Didn’t seem to expect it, he was serious when he said he was a solitary man. At first, Clara swore it spooked her, and told the kids to stay away from the cabin, but it didn’t spook me none, nor nothing like it. It seemed natural, that’s all, like the bobcat that is seen on the mountain from time to time. Nothing more nor less than that. Fact is, I liked it when Mister Black was over there, I felt like he was watching over us, or something.

  And by then we kindly needed some watching over, leastways, Molly did. For now we are coming into what I call the slipping down years, the hard years, when things gone from good to bad to worst.

  HAVE I SAID HOW much Jacky loved children? which he did, and they loved him back, for he done endless tricks with them, finding a penny in their ear, and throwing their voices into them little hand dolls he used to make, and putting on shows, and such as that.

  Well, we are all partial to children up here. But you never saw a man take on so as Jacky did that first time when she said she was going to have one. Lord! Nothing was too good for Molly then, and I couldn’t say I blamed him, I was near about as excited as them, watching her belly get big and her face get a little rounder, so that dimple appeared in her cheek. Jacky was a ball of fire, building the baby a cradle hisself and waiting on Molly hand and foot. He couldn’t keep his hands off her neither, up until she got real big, and then he had to. Clara told him, in no uncertain terms. I come in upon her telling him, and left accordingly.

  But as luck would have it, I was the one that was there when the baby come. We were closing up the store. Jacky had gone off playing music some-wheres, trying to get them up some cash money to get ahead a little. I was putting up the mail, and Molly was straightening up the piece goods on that table in the middle, folding everything just so, the nice way she done, when all of a sudden she said BJ in a voice I had never heard before.