Wonderland Creek Part 17

"But Lillie told me to be careful around Maggie. Why would she say that? Does Maggie run around shooting people or something? What am I supposed to be careful about?"

"Who knows? I can't read Lillie's mind. It's hard to figure out why she says the things she does. But I do know that Lillie is usually right about people. She has a certain instinct about them. Almost as if she can read their minds. Or their hearts."

"She called the sheriff a snake. All he did was stop by the library and ask if he could help. Why is he a snake?"

"The sheriff is controlled by the coal company. He does whatever they tell him to do, instead of what's just and fair. As for Maggie, you have to understand that she's a flatlander. People around here naturally distrust them."

"Your friend Hank seemed to trust her."

"Who told you about Hank?"

"Cora did. She said he was your best friend, but that Hank died in a mining accident. June Ann mentioned Hank, too."

"We were friends. We grew up together, and he liked books almost as much as I did. We were supposed to go to Berea College together, but Hank never got to go. His father died, and Hank had to go to work in the mines to support his family. I sent him my textbooks so he could keep studying, but . . ." Mack ended the story with a shrug.

"How did Hank meet Maggie and fall in love with her?"

Mack got a funny look on his face. He stared at the ground, not at me, frowning. I wondered if Mack had been in love with Maggie himself. It happened all the time in novels-the hero falling in love with his best friend's girl. "I'm not sure how," he mumbled. "I didn't live here at the time."

"Can you think of any reason why Lillie would say to be careful around Maggie?"

"No." He still wouldn't meet my gaze.

I decided to leave. I was never going to get a straight answer to any of my questions. Besides, what difference did it make if Mack told me what he was up to or not? I was going home.

"I want to get back before dark," I said. "Can you show me the way to the creek?"

"Sure." He reached for my hand again, then made a clicking sound in his cheek. Belle stopped munching on weeds and lifted her head to look at him. "Come on. This way." The horse followed both of us through the woods like a trained dog.

"Are you sure you don't want to ride back to the library with me?" I asked when the dilapidated cabin came into view. "I feel funny leaving you way out here by yourself now that I'm going home to Illinois."

"I told you, I'll be fine."

We stopped beside the front porch. I could hear the creek gurgling below us. "Well, Mack . . . I probably won't see you again. It's been . . ." I searched for the right word, remembering the bear of a man who had shouted at me from the second-story window that first day. I couldn't say, in all honesty, that it had been a pleasure to meet him. "It has been quite an experience," I finished.

He released my hand, which he still had been holding. "I'm glad we met, Alice. And thank you for bringing all the new books."

It would have been a dramatic and novel-worthy ending if I could have swung up into the saddle and galloped away, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my left foot high enough to reach the stirrup. I even maneuvered Belle closer to the steps to make it easier, but I still wasn't tall enough. In the end, Mack had to give my rear end a boost before I finally made it up into the saddle.

He was laughing at me, I knew he was, even though he didn't dare to make a sound. I felt the imprint of his hand on my backside all the way down Wonderland Creek, my face burning like the coals of Mack's campfire.

Lillie was sitting at the kitchen table with bowls of food all laid out, waiting for me when I arrived. I thought she might ask why I was so late, but instead she asked, "Who did you bless today, honey?"

I had forgotten all about Lillie's prediction. My mouth fell open in surprise when I remembered helping June Ann. "How-how did you know?"

"You had a light s.h.i.+ning all around you like you was an angel. That's how I knew. Now, who got the benefit of that blessing?"

"Do you know the Larkins? June Ann and Wayne?"

"Of course I do. Sweet little redheaded gal. Too bad she's all tangled up in the middle of that awful feud."

"Well, June Ann had her baby today. A little girl. She was all alone when I got there, so I stayed with her until the midwife came."

"See? You were a blessing, just like I knew you would be."

"No, really. How did you know? I didn't see any lights s.h.i.+ning-on me or anyone else."

"The Good Lord told me all about it when I was praying for you. That's why I knew you just had to go up that creek today, whether you wanted to or not."

"You talk to G.o.d as well as horses?"

"Sure. Don't you?"

I shook my head. I didn't believe that Lillie could talk to either one-even though I had seen what might be proof that she had communicated with both. It had to be a trick. "How does G.o.d speak to you, Miss Lillie? Is it an audible voice?" My father spoke of hearing from G.o.d, but I didn't think he ever heard a voice.

Lillie gestured to the empty chair across the table from where she sat. "Come on, honey. Sit down and eat your supper. I warmed up the beans from last night."

"Aren't you going to tell me how you knew?"

"There are some things-like falling in love-that you just can't explain."

The next morning I awoke with the same feeling I got when I came to the last chapter of a book: a little sorry to see it end, but antic.i.p.ating the start of a new story. Aunt Lydia and Uncle Cecil would arrive today. My suitcase was packed and ready. My ordeal in Acorn had been grueling at times, but I had done a good deed by bringing the books to Kentucky. I could go home knowing that I had made a difference.

I put on my traveling dress, combed my hair, and carried my suitcase downstairs to set beside the front door. It would be wonderful to wash all my dirty clothes in an electric was.h.i.+ng machine when I got home, instead of rinsing them by hand. Last night before falling asleep I had watched the bat dart around my room and had wrestled with what to say to the other packhorse ladies. Should I give a formal farewell or simply disappear as unexpectedly as I had arrived? I was afraid they would be mad at me and would reproach me for deserting them when they needed my help, especially with taking care of Miss Lillie. They had trusted me and treated me like one of their own, even though I was a flatlander. I hated to lose that trust, but in the end I decided that telling the truth would be best.

"I may not be here when you come back this afternoon," I said when they had all a.s.sembled. "I'm returning to Illinois."

"So soon?"

"I only planned to stay for two weeks, and my time is up. My aunt and uncle are coming for me today. I'm really sorry to leave, but my family needs me at home." That wasn't quite true. No one needed me, and I still didn't have a real purpose to fulfill at home. Maybe one would magically appear.

As I feared, all four women glared at me accusingly. "You're leaving? Just like that?" Cora asked.

"Yes, I'm so sorry. But I wanted to tell you how wonderful it was to meet all of you, and thank you for being so kind to me. You've been good friends to me and I'll never forget any of you."

"Who's gonna take care of Miss Lillie?"

"And Belle?"

"And that coop full of chickens?"

"Who's gonna bring the mountain folks their books?"

"I-I don't know. Doesn't Lillie have a family we could contact?"

"Mack was her family."

I watched as they loaded their book bags, and it seemed like they were erecting thick walls between us again, like the ones that had been in place when I arrived. Faye frowned sternly, as if sorry that she had ever taken her wall down.

"You'll hear from me again," I said. "I'll write to all of you. And I'm going to collect more books for you-children's books and schoolbooks. I know how badly you need them."

"Who's gonna run the library?" Alma asked. But she wasn't asking me-they were asking each other. As far as they were concerned, I had already deserted them.

I wished I could explain that I wasn't the one who had deserted the library and Miss Lillie and all of them-Mack was. They should be mad at him.

I waited for my aunt and uncle all morning. Then I waited all afternoon. Lillie wasn't feeling well and stayed upstairs in bed. I tidied the library, making sure the work was finished and every shelf was neat and in order. But not a single car rolled through Acorn that day, including my uncle's. What could have happened to them? Were they lost? Was Aunt Lydia's condition worse than anyone had thought? I worried and paced, watching the road in vain.

"I see you're still here," Faye said when she returned that afternoon.

"Yes . . . I guess my aunt and uncle were delayed. I'm sure they'll come tomorrow." The others didn't react to my presence at all. They came in, chatted amongst themselves, dropped off their books, and left, just as they had on my first day. I carried my suitcase upstairs at bedtime and unpacked my pajamas.

I didn't repeat my heartfelt farewell the second day. I simply told them once again that it had been a pleasure to meet them and thanked them for letting me visit. Then I sat and stared out the front window, waiting and worrying the entire day.

"You're still here," Faye said when she returned that afternoon. It was more like an accusation than a question.

"I-I don't know what could be taking my uncle so long." Alma rolled her eyes.

On the third morning, Cora confronted me, her burly arms crossed on her impressive chest. "You gonna go on up and do your route today, like you promised me? I hate to keep them schoolkids waiting for their books. But now them folks up on Potter's Creek are waiting for me, too, and I can't be in both places at once."

"I-I'm afraid to leave . . . My aunt and uncle are certain to come today. Probably this afternoon."

"If you leave right now and don't dawdle, you can be back by this afternoon."

"But-"

Lillie interrupted my protests. "I'll keep them entertained until you get here, honey." I turned in surprise and saw her grinning at me as she descended the stairs, miraculously well again. I hesitated, wondering what Lillie could possibly do to entertain Uncle Cecil. He would have no interest at all in the ramblings of a hundred-year-old folk-healer and would be angry at the delay. And who knew what Aunt Lydia would find to do in my absence.

Lillie crooked her finger, beckoning me closer. I bent so she could whisper in my ear. "While you're up there, you can feed poor Mack. He must be running low on food again by now."

I didn't care about Mack. He was able to forage for his own food. But I would like to see June Ann again. She needed a friend so badly. And I wanted to return Maggie's book to her and thank her for it, even though I'd been too distracted to read it. In fact, I hadn't read a single book in two weeks and I usually finished one in two days.

"You want me to saddle up your horse?" Cora asked.

"Sure. I-I guess so." I was still a little afraid of Cora. Besides, I couldn't bear the thought of sitting here for a third day, waiting, doing nothing. I turned to Lillie. "Promise me you'll ask my uncle to wait for me?"

She lifted her right hand as if taking an oath. "If your uncle comes today, honey, I promise to keep him here if I have to knock him down and sit on him."

That I'd like to see. A strong wind would blow Lillie over.

As I rode Belle all the way up to the Howard farm, my mind raced with ideas about how I could fix things here in Acorn before I left for good. Maybe Maggie Coots could visit June Ann once in a while and read books to her. I knew I was meddling, but if I told Maggie the truth about Mack, surely she would keep his secret. Her husband had been his best friend. Who knew, maybe a romance would develop between her and Mack. After all, they had Hank in common and they both loved books.

I made a quick stop at the schoolhouse after visiting the Howards, then headed down the hill to see Maggie. She greeted me warmly, like an old friend, and we sat at her table to sip tea. She seemed truly sorry to hear that I would be going home soon. "What about Miss Lillie?" she asked. "Who will take care of her now that Mack is . . . ?" She couldn't seem to say the word dead.

"I was hoping you knew something about Lillie's family. I would gladly contact them if I knew how. And who."

Maggie shook her head. "I don't know any more than you do. I'm an outsider, a flatlander just like you. I came down here from Boston to teach school-against my parents' wishes, I should add. How did your parents feel about you coming here?"

"They didn't mind. I was doing charity work, after all, and my father is a minister. He encourages me to do things like this. And it was only for two weeks."

"My father is a businessman, and he thought I was out of my mind when I told him I was leaving civilization to come here. But I was so tired of living a useless life, you know? Running around to social events, spending money on worthless things. I wanted to do something to make a difference, so I came down here to be a teacher."

Her words about living a useless life made me uncomfortable. "How did you meet your husband?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

"At a parent-teacher conference, of all things." She smiled, remembering. "Hank had to support his family after his father died, including several rambunctious younger brothers. I called him up to the schoolhouse to talk about discipline. He was very antagonistic, at first. Then . . . we fell in love."

"I admire you for staying here and living in such primitive conditions."

"It has never been a sacrifice, Allie. By the time Hank and I married, I had fallen in love with the people down here and these beautiful Kentucky hills."

"Do you think you'll ever move home again?"

"I don't know. All my memories of Hank are here, so this is where I want to be."

"What about teaching? Might you teach again?"

"I've thought about it."

"Or you could start a library. You have plenty of books."

"You mean like Mack's library? . . . I don't know. For now, I need to stay close to home. Hank's mother needs me." I was surprised that she referred to this cabin as "home" instead of Ma.s.sachusetts.

"Do you know June Ann Larkin and her husband, Wayne?"

"Not really."

"They live down the creek a few miles from here. June Ann just had a baby and she's very lonely. But she loves to read. I thought . . . I thought that maybe you could visit her once in a while. Become friends." To my surprise, Maggie shook her head. Her eyes filled with tears. "Did I say something wrong, Maggie?"

"No . . . excuse me," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's just . . . I'm not the right person to ask." She brushed away another tear. "And I can't leave Mama Opal."

So much for my schemes. "Listen, Maggie, can I give you my address back home in Illinois in case . . . I don't know, in case you want to write to me? I would love to hear from you."

More tears rolled down her cheeks as I gave her a piece of paper with my address on it. "Do you have to go?" she asked.

"I do. I'm so sorry. In fact, my family is probably down in Acorn right now, waiting for me." We hugged good-bye. I hated to leave.

It wasn't my day to visit June Ann, but I decided to make a quick side trip to see her, hoping she had cheered up, hoping her husband had gotten over his disappointment by now and had accepted their baby daughter. But I could tell by June Ann's sad, red-rimmed eyes that nothing had changed.

"I can only stay a few minutes," I told her as she invited me inside. "How are you?"

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "I guess I got the blues today."

"June Ann, isn't there anyone who can come and stay with you? I'll talk to your family if you tell me where to find them."

"Don't bother. They won't come."

I looked down at the baby, asleep in a homemade wooden cradle that looked like something Daniel Boone might have carved. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Wayne still can't decide. I've been calling her Feather, because she's as soft and light as one." Her tears started to fall again. I was making matters worse, not better, for everyone I visited. I hugged June Ann good-bye a few minutes later and rode down to Mack's cabin. He didn't seem surprised to see me.