On Agate Hill
The first time we went it was July, hot and stormy with more and more dark clouds sailing across the moon and sure enough it started thundering when we came to the path. We got back to Agate Hill just as the first fat drops started landing all around us in the lane. Luckily little Junius had not woke up as he sometimes does when it thunders, so we crept back to bed and watched the storm from our window up under the eaves. We love the lightning.
The second time, fairy conditions were perfect. A hot still August night, and we went early. We sat on our rocks like rocks ourselves while the silver light came down through the leaves and shone on the water.
But then I heard something back in the woods. Mary White do you hear that? I asked.
Hush, I see them, they are coming! she whispered.
I strained my eyes at the silver pool but saw nothing. Then the noise in the woods got louder, branches crackling and a dog barking furiously, until here came three deer pursued by a big black dog. They all jumped across the stream, their white tails flashing, to disappear as fast as they had come.
Oh damn it! Mary White said. Now the fairies are gone too.
So last night was our last try.
I had stayed awake watching a big yellow moon rise up over the river hills, then when it hung like a lantern in the sky and the whole house was deathly quiet I poked Mary White. Mary White! I said. She lay on her side in deep sleep clutching Robert E. Lee. Mary White!
She sat up like a jack in the box. Oh is it time? And I said it was, and we pulled on our shirts and jackets and bloomers and tiptoed past little Junius and headed out barefoot as always into the heavy dew.
Oh its cold, isnt it? Mary White said as our feet sank into the grass.
We better go back for our shoes, I said.
But she shook her head and said, Its too late. We had best not risk it. Mary White talks in an old fashioned way when ever she talks about the fairies, it is almost like a fairy language. So on we went down the lane holding hands with the moon so bright it cast shadows behind us three times taller than we are.
Look we are giants! she said, and I knew it right then. This time we will see them.
The moon was so bright, we walked down the path to the river and found our way to the willow house as if it was day. Our white rocks shone out to welcome us, but the water was cold on our feet as we waded out.
Now. Mary White climbed up to sit cross-legged like an Indian and I did the same. She says it is a spiritual pose.
A little wind blew across our faces and rippled the waves and all of a sudden Mary White grabbed my knee so hard it hurt and said, See? Oh Molly— see? And sure enough the air was suddenly full of fairies like a swarm of bees all around us. Their high voices filled the night. The air was bright with the beat of their wings, too fast to see. Swooping down to the shallows they rode the waterbugs like horses and gathered the foam for their babys to eat and laughed and sang in their high, high voices. Their little faces were pointed and dark, their little green suits were darling.
Look it is the queen of the fairies! Mary White whispered for it was Titania with a flower crown and red hair that falls to her feet. She landed on the rock just inches before us and stood there quivering. Her wings beat too fast to see, giving off light like a firefly.
The fairies stayed for I dont know how long, until Titanias prince flew down riding on a swallow and led them all away. Then swoosh! A round shimmering light rose up through the trees to be lost in the starry sky.
Silently Mary White and I grabbed hands and climbed down from our rocks and splashed back to the bank through the freezing shallows. She was already sniffling then. So now she is imprisoned in Aunt Cecelias room sick with a terrible cough and can not play and I miss her so, with no one for company except little Junius who sleeps like a log.
And now I have started to sleepwalk again which I used to do. I had not done it since Mary White came.
October 23, 1872
Dear Diary,
Last night I woke in the dark at the top of the stairs with no idea of how I had got there, my heart just pounding. It was pitch black and very scary. But having been a ghost girl, I can find my way in the dark, and so after a while I took heart and went on down the skinny stairs. It was like something was drawing me on. I opened the door and stepped out into the passage where moonlight fell in a shiny patch on the heart pine floor. I shivered for it had rained in the night. I walked through the moonlight then on down to Uncle Junius door which stood open too.
I went in. Children are not allowed. It is like his cave in there. One oil lamp burned low on the desk, giving light enough to see that he was gone. His rumpled couch held coverlets thrown about. The big desk overflowed with papers and more papers, books lay piled and tumbled to the floor. The walls are filled with bookcases floor to ceiling while other books and clothes lay strewn about as if a hurricane had hit here, coming straight in the door. It smelled like tobacco, like whisky, like Uncle Junius. The end of a fire glowed still in the hearth.
Picking my way along, I went over there and sat down in one of his big rockers, drawing up my feet and wrapping myself in an old soft musty-smelling blanket and settling in for a nap until heavy slow footsteps sounded in the passage. I peeked around my chairback to see Uncle Junius, his white shirt half unbuttoned and hanging out of his pants, his white hair sticking up like straw all over his head. His eyes looked sunk in his head.
Ah Molly. Uncle Junius did not seem at all surprised to see me. He lowered his big self down slow into the other rocker, making a face from pain. He rolled a cigarette and lit it and reached down to take a drink from the bottle that stays on the floor beside him. So, Molly. Come to help me with the sunrise? he asked, and I said, Yes Sir. Well then, he said, and together we sat in silence while it came on. The window filled with light. Dogs barked someplace. King Arthur crowed. Uncle Junius took another long drink while I snuggled back into my blanket, hating for night to end.
Aha! Finally you are here. Aunt Cecelia pushed the door so hard it banged into the wall, then stood there snorting and breathing like a bull in her big green dressing gown.
I know exactly where you have been Junius, I know, and dont try to tell me anything different. Why this is typical of you isnt it, to be absent when we are threatened by these outlaws that come in the night—
What? What is this Sissy? Uncle Junius stood to face her, putting a hand on his desk.
Well might you ask Sir! Well might you ask! Though it is doubtless your fault that they choose to come here at all. Never would they do so had you been on the side of God in the first place, had you not voted against Secession and supported the Republicans, weak lily-livered son of the flesh as you have turned out to be.
Whoa Sissy. What happened? His voice was raspy and hoarse.
Those—those ruffians came after Romulus. There was some incident in town. I presume it is his manner which you have encouraged Junius, you know you have. And to let him take on the care of Spencer, why it is just not right for Spencer to live out there. I dont blame them for being scandalized. But I must say, I put the quietus on them Junius. I had scarcely gone to bed when I heard the horses and those tin pans and whatnot and went out to the piazza where I said, Well Sirs, Romulus is not here, so you can just turn around now. You will have to shoot me in order to pass this way, and I warn you, if you do so, if you DO shoot me, why I will welcome it! For then I shall go straight to Heaven.
And what did they say to that Cecelia? Uncle Junius sounded like he was laughing.
They rode away of course while you lay fast in the arms of your gypsy whore —
Sissy. Uncle Junius drew himself up tall, with rasping breath. One more time Sissy, he said in a voice like God.
I jumped up from the rocker, throwing my blanket down.
Oh good Lord! Aunt Cecelia jumped a mile. Child, child, what are you doing here?
I am helping Uncle Junius with the sunrise, I said.
Aunt Cecelia snorted then turned away.
Uncle
Junius put his hand on my shoulder. And a damn fine job you have made of it too Molly, he said. I thank you. For here is the sun fully risen, and you are a good, good girl. Well done.
November 9, 1872
Dear Diary,
We have had a big fight here, and it is not clear what might happen next.
I learned all about it this morning when Liddy sent me down to the cellar to get more cream from the springwater trough that runs along the sidewall, a chore I hate because it is so dark and damp down there. It is like a dungeon. Several times I have almost stepped on a snake lying across the sill or coiled up like a rope on the dark dirt floor. Since Washington knows how scared I am of snakes, he comes down too if he is around, and it is here that we have had many talks, sitting on those wooden crates in the cool musty cellar while its blazing hot outside. So although I jumped, I was not really surprised when he said Molly! Right behind me yesterday.
Why where have you been? I asked, for I have not seen him for days.
I been working, I reckon. Off cutting wood with Rom and Spence. But what do you care anyway? You are too busy being a white girl now, you aint got time for me.
I grabbed the cream bottle up from the trough and whirled around. That is not true! I said, though it was, a little.
Thats all right Molly, Washington said. I know she dont like for me to associate with you all.
I didnt have to ask who he meant. Of course it is Aunt Cecelia who had a fit when she surprised the three of us out in the barn with Gullivers Travels and found out that Washington can read. Fannie gave him lessons, along with Victoria and Blanche and me.
I think it is the very height of irresponsibility! Aunt Cecelia had practically screamed at Uncle Junius when he came back from Raleigh that evening.
Uncle Junius sat down heavily in the wingback chair and opened a newspaper.
What in the world was she thinking? Aunt Cecelia went on. I’d just like to know.
Uncle Junius sighed and looked up from the paper. It is my great and lasting sorrow that everyone on this place does not know how to read Sissy. Now leave me in peace for Gods sake.
God has very little to do with the state of things on this plantation, I assure you! Aunt Cecelia had snorted.
Now I went over and pulled the cellar door shut behind me and Washington. I hate Aunt Cecelia, dont you? I said to him. Mary White hates her too, even if she is her own grandmother. So where have you been? I asked finally.
Mama been sending me out to Miss Marie and Miss Mitties to work with Rom and them. Keeping me out of trouble, she says. But I seen trouble enough anyway.
Like what? I went over to stand right in front of Washington though I could hardly see him in the dark.
Selena got into it with Miss Cecelia finally, it come right out in the open when they was all out there in the kitchen making sausage after we killed those hogs, he said.
I nodded in the dark. Mary White and me had been furious when Aunt Cecelia wouldnt let us go to the hog killing which I have always loved, the first part is bad but then it goes on all day like a party. I remembered how Aunt Fannie always directed this operation herself, saying, We shall use everything but the squeal.
Well, everybody was working, Washington said, that is, Selena and Mama and Bess and me, and in come Miss Cecelia, saying, We do this in Montgomery and We do that in Montgomery, but it was real clear she did not know what she was talking about as she is a city lady. She got them killing the hogs too early anyway, then she wants them to grind all that meat up again so it be real fine. Just when they think they ready to stuff it in the casings, she wants them to start over. Mama and Bess been making sausage all they life, but they not going to tell her. They not going to go against her. So they are not talking, while she is talking real hateful to all them. Finally Selena she just blow up.
What did she do? I asked.
She jump up and say, Miss Cecelia I am in charge of this job and I can tell you, we know what we are doing here, so why dont you just keep your nose out of it. Go on back to Agate Hill and leave it to us hired help.
I could just imagine how Selena would look when she said this, head flung back, eyes on fire.
But Miss Cecelia not give an inch. Liddy, Bess, she said. Run that meat through the grinder again.
Did yall do it? I asked in the dark.
Oh yes, Washington said.
What did Selena do then?
She stand right up and look her in the eye — you know Selena is ever bit as big as your auntie— and she say, You will be sorry for this Cecelia. No Miss Cecelia nor nothing. Then she say to us all, Yall can go to hell. Then she go running out the door, and none of us has seen her since.
But where is she?
She got Rom to drive her over to Greensboro, leaving them children to fend for their selves. Mama been feeding them. Mama said Selena probably out walking the streets.
Walking the streets? I said. Why would she want to do that?
Washington was laughing. Nevermind, he said. But Mama said we not going to get rid of her so easy. And now today, Mister Junius has done sent Virgil back over there to find her and fetch her back.
I bet Aunt Cecelia is mad about that, I said.
Mama said Miss Cecelia is fit to be tied. But she is treading on mighty thin ice now.
I knew that meant Aunt Cecelia might leave, taking Mary White with her. Mary White has never seen a hog killing and now she never will. All of a sudden I wished I could go back to the days before Aunt Cecelia and Mary White ever came here, when I was just a ghost girl running this place and playing in the woods with Washington. Come on Washington, I said. Lets go up on the hill and ride some saplings like we used to. For we used to ride them one after another all the way down Agate Hill.
I cant, Molly, Washington said. They are waiting for me now. They will be mad all ready. He reached back and opened the door and the sunlight poured in making Washington into a black silhouette like the silhouettes of those old dead people hanging on the wall in the parlor. All of a sudden I realized how tall he got last summer, though he is still as thin as a rail.
Well bye then, I said.
Bye, he said, then, Molly?
What, I said.
The sunlight shone out all around him but he was black in the center of it.
What happened at the end of Gullivers Travels?
He lived with the horses for a long time, I said. They were real nice, remember?
I remember, Washington said.
Then he made himself a canoe and sailed back home.
Thats good then. Washington grinned at me, then waved, and then was gone.
I took the cream up the steps and in the kitchen to Liddy who was mixing something up in the big blue bowl. She looked at me good when I set the bottle down on the table. What taken you so long? She asked.
I been talking to Washington, I said.
Liddy shook her head and turned her mouth down. Dont you be bothering Washington, she said. He got work to do.
Sometimes I think Liddy is just as bad as Aunt Cecelia, she doesnt want Washington and me to be friends either.
November 19, 1872
Dear Diary,
Now we have been to the Tableaux Vivants, the best and most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed though I did not want to go at first as Aunt Cecelia said they are edifying. Well she has edified me almost to death all ready but Mary White said, Oh do come, Molly, you will love it, you can wear my blue velvet dress! So we took the carriage with Virgil driving and even he was dressed up. Where did you get that hat? I asked him. But he just clicked to the horses and off we went. Mary White and Aunt Cecelia sat in the back under a lap robe but I got to sit up in the front with Virgil, like a scout. I waved to all. It was a real pretty day not even cold. I remembered that poem Aunt Fannie used to read about Octobers bright blue weather. I took off my hat for I love to feel the sun and the wind on my face.
Put that hat back on Molly, you little fool! Aunt Cecelia screamed up to me. You will get freckl
es.
I dont care, I called back. Two wagons passed by, loaded down with wood from Mister Grissoms sawmill. I grinned and waved to the Grissom boys who sat perched like blackbirds on top of the wood. I did not even bother to say, I dont care if I get freckles or not because I am not going to be a lady, I would rather die than be a lady like you. I remembered way back when Rachel and Julia were trying to get rid of freckles by slathering themselves every night with a potion they made up from cucumbers and milk, which did not work.
Diary, I have forgot to say that Julia and Rachel are coming for Christmas, both of them, and Julia is bringing a beau! I can not wait. Mary White and I hope for a big wedding though Uncle Junius says, Who in the hell will pay for it? You girls had better stick with Robert E. Lee.
Anyway, it took us two hours to get to Hillsborough. Mary White and I were too excited to eat our cold suppers— which consisted of a ham biscuit and a fried apple pie apiece— so Aunt Cecelia ate all of them. I waved to everybody. The sun had gone down in a blaze of fire by the time we got into town. Virgil drove the carriage around to the back of the widow Muriel Browns house.
Then we all went inside for tea cakes and lemonade. Aunt Cecelia and the widow had sherry wine. Show them your dolls, girls, the widow Brown said to her two mean daughters, so there we went up the long curving staircase with Adeline and Ida, who we hate.
There they are. Adeline pointed at a chaise longue covered with them, all kinds of dolls in all kinds of costumes, even a doll from Spain. But when Mary White bent down to pick one up, Adeline said, Please dont touch, its time to go now anyway.
Oh I’m so sorry, please excuse me! Mary White jumped back as if she had been shot and said in her nicey-nice way.
Going back down those long stairs, Mary White ran ahead of Adeline who somehow tripped and tumbled down the last five or six steps to land on her backside and come up sobbing. You—Adeline started to say, but there was Mary White helping her up, attended by the widow and Aunt Cecelia.