April’s Project, Unfinished

                                                          

 Prologue, June 2016

Delaney was driving down roads that she had never driven before. She had ridden on them many times in years long past. She had always been a passenger before, usually with her dad at the wheel, her mom in the front seat beside him and her brother and herself sharing the back seat. She had been oblivious to the turns they had taken back then. She had only been mindful of the beautiful green hills, hollers and creek bottoms that surrounded them as they drove past, the smell of the honeysuckle and moist earth scented breeze that caressed her through the open car windows, the hum of insects, the call of birds, the distant bark of a dog that were all part of nature’s symphony! 

Yes, she had been down these roads many times, but had never been mindful of the twists and turns that would take her family to their destination; Grandma and Grandpa’s. She recalled the anticipation and wonder that always filled her when visiting her beloved grandparents at their home on their isolated little ribbon of creek bottom on Angel Branch in Eastern Kentucky.

Delaney had always felt like she was traveling back in time when she visited Grandma and Grandpa. Life on Angel Branch had been simple, never rushed and an adventure for a young child! The lack of modern conveniences: indoor bathroom facilities; getting drinking water from a faucet; plowing a field with a tractor; should have, perhaps, been disdained. Somehow it wasn’t. 

Walking down the dirt path to the outhouse could be an interesting adventure! A blue-tailed lizard might dash across the path. A beautiful butterfly could light upon a lovely blossom. Grandpa’s mule might stretch its neck over the fence to have his chin rubbed! Cool, crisp clear water could be drawn from the well. The distant splash of the bucket into the water of that well could stir a child’s imagination; that well surely must reach almost to China! The water from that well, sipped from a communal dipper, was the most delicious water a body could desire to drink! Watching Uncle Jake walk behind Grandpa’s mule as it plowed the tobacco field had been a source of awe. Uncle Jake’s geeing and hawing, surely must mean that he could talk to animals just like Dr. Dolittle!

Now, as she drove, she wished that her young self had paid more attention to the course that had taken them to their destination. Of course, even if she had, over four decades had passed since then. Time would have dimmed those memories and four decades of change worked to make those memories obsolete. Time around Angel Branch seemed to march to a different drummer though and that drummer played a slower tune.Delaney was being constantly bombarded by both feelings of familiarity and feelings that she was traveling down the wrong path. 

She was beginning to think that she was going to have to stop and ask someone for directions when she saw a small, old abandoned store on the right. She remembered passing just such a store many times in the past. If it was the same store, up ahead, a short piece on the left would be Angel Branch Road! She said a silent prayer and continued slowly up the blacktop. Sure enough, she saw the sign she longed to see. She turned left onto the gravel road and a sense of peace immediately filled her. Traffic was not a problem on Angel Branch Road and Delaney drove a few yards down the road and pulled over to the side. She rolled down her windows, turned off the car and sat for a few moments in the quiet. She put her head back onto her head rest and she closed her eyes. 

At first, she could not hear anything but silence. Gradually she began to hear the drone of insects, the twitter of birds, the caw of a distant crow, the rustle of wind through the leaves of the trees, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the sound of the water flowing down Angel Branch that ran parallel to the road on the left. She sat there for a few minutes listening to the lovely sounds and smelling the scent of rich moist earth that had evidently received a recent shower.

She sat there for a few moments and bittersweet memories flooded her mind. She opened her eyes, started the car and began to drive. She could see no sign of the old one room schoolhouse that had been tucked below the ridge of the road on the left. She did see a church just past it across the creek there on the left. This was not the old Angel Branch Baptist Church that had been there all of those years ago. This was a newer replacement. 

Further up on the left, she saw the remains of an old barn. That barn had belonged to Lige Black. Lige’shouse had burnt down years ago, but that old barn was still visible though it was slowly being reclaimed by the vegetation that surrounded it. In her mind, Delaney could hear her dad sayin’, “I wonder what ol’ Lige is up to” when they drove past Lige’s place as smoke curled up from the chimney.

Delaney drove on slowly as she searched for a shallow holler that niched back into the hillside on the right. Everything was so overgrown, it was difficult to tell if any such holler existed, but she knew it did and so her eyes peered intently to the right. Finally, she saw a barely discernible eave showing from amidst the overgrowth. She remembered passing that eave when it was on a beautiful little white clapboard house surrounded by colorful blossoms. Her father would drive by that house and often, a pleasant older couple, Lizzie and Arthur, would offer smiles and waves from the front porch as they drove by. They would stop by to visit Lizzie and Arthur sometime during their visit to Grandma and Grandpa. Lizzie would have Delaney stand next to the doorframe and mark with a pencil how tall she had grown. Lizzie would compare her growth to the pencil mark that indicated the height of her granddaughter. There would be several pencils marks on that doorframe. Delaney wondered if she could fight her way through the overgrowth and make her way safely into that house, if those pencil marks would still be visible.

Delaney’s car rounded a bend here and rose over a rise there until she could see an old barn on the ribbon of bottomland on her left. She remembered when that had been the new barn. It was in pretty good shape and seemed to be putting up a valiant fight against being reclaimed by the earth around it. Except for a missing sheet or two of tin roof and a missing board here and there, it was holding up nicely. She could recall walking by that barn on the way to the outhouse. Back then sticks holding sheaths of tobacco could be seen through the open door, hanging down from the rafters and looking like eyelashes on half-closed eyelids. The outhouse seemed to have been lost to the ravages of time, as well as the “old” barn where Grandma had milked the cow. Just an overgrown mound of barely discernible rotting boards indicated where it had been.

Delaney’s eyes moved on up the road until she saw the house Grandma and Grandpa had lived in. It was not faring well. One end had slumped in, leaving a sad cant to the roofline. The home was a sad skeleton of its former self, but Delaney could almost imagine seeing Grandpa stand from his cane-bottomed chair on the front porch upon hearing her car come down the road. She could almost see him wave to her from the porch. She caught herself turning left onto the lane that led from the road to the house, but the lane was not there. Instead, bushes, brambles and small trees blocked the way. There would be no driving down that lane; Delaney’s view from the road and her “drive” down Memory Lane would have to suffice for today.

Delaney drove a little further up the road to a clear drive, turned around, and headed back the way she had come.

 

 

Early Spring 2017

Delaney pushed open the partially ajar door with her hip as she carried in her final box from the car. She entered into the kitchen of her temporary home away from home. The home belonged to her Aunt Anna and Uncle Walter and was a short distance from where her dad and Uncle Walter had grown up on Angel Branch. Her aunt and uncle lived out of state and folks “would steal you blind” if a property was left vacant for long. A neighbor had checked on the property for them in the past, but health issues had prevented him from continuing the favor. 

Delaney was very interested in family history and had been researching on Ancestry for a few years. She was interested in trying to write a book about that history. She wasn’t a writer and she did not expect to acquire riches or fame, but she wanted to research more and try to solve some questions that had popped up in her research. Perhaps she could, at least, come up with a written history of her family past to share with her family present. Staying in her aunt and uncle’s house would provide a caretaker for their property and provide her proximity to the areas where her ancestors had lived.  As long as she had internet access, she could do her work pretty much anywhere, Perhaps, here in the area where her ancestors had lived, they might even provide her with a little help!

Delaney unpacked the box with her sheets and made the bed in the bedroom that adjoined the small living room. She rummaged in her purse for a pack of peanut butter crackers and a water bottle. She would have to plan a trip to town in the morning to purchase some groceries. Tonight, she just wanted to sate her hunger, take a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow was another day.

The air held the chill of spring, but Delaney went out to the front porch and sat in a chair located there. She ate her crackers and drank her water. As she sat there, she recalled times when she had sat on her Gpa and Gma's front porch decades ago. She recalled watchin’ her Gpa pull a stick of cedar from the bib of his overalls and a knife from his pocket. He would sit in a woven bottomed chair and whittle on his stick. Before long, a pile of aromatic curls would surround the base of his chair. Occasionally he would send a stream of tobacco juice into an empty coffee can sitting on the porch edge. Delaney could almost hear the ping of that juice hitting the inside of the can and could almost smell the scent of cedar…..surely recent storms must have broken off a branch from a nearby cedar tree.

Well, dusk was fading into night and it was getting nippy. Delaney was tired. She returned into the house, took her shower, brushed her teeth and lay in the bed, snug under quilts that belonged to her Aunt Anna. She wondered if her Gma Nannie had made any of these quilts, or perhaps Aunt Anna’s mother had made them.

Delaney picked up the laptop that she had on the nightstand beside the bed, opened her journal and recorded the events of the day. She then closed it and returned it to the nightstand. A chill breeze rattled the window. The window must need recaulking, as the sheers gently rustled ever so slightly. Delaney drifted off to sleep with the faint smell of cedar in the air.

 

*****

Delaney was awakened from a peaceful sleep by the warmth of sunshine streaming through the bedroom window. The sunshine gave the false impression of warmth, but Delaney saw the frost outside and knew that she had better dress in layers today. She planned to be outside much of the day and it was gonna be chilly. She needed it to be chilly for what she wanted to do today though. She didn’t want to run into any snakes. Copperheads were not uncommon around here.

She sat on the side of the old iron bedstead and heard the creaking of the springs as she did so. She shivered a bit as she left her warm covers behind and jumped up to put on some jeans, a long sleeve tee and a sweat shirt. She went into the bathroom, brushed her hair, washed her face and then went into the kitchen where she found the coffee pot. She rinsed it out and put on a pot of coffee. After eating a Nutrigrain bar and drinking a couple cups of coffee, Delaney put on thick socks and a pair of hiking boots and went out onto the front porch. 

The smell of rich moist earth and air untainted by the noxious fumes of progress greeted Delaney as she emerged from the house. She could see her breath hang in the air. The muted sound of a dog barking in the distance was the only sound she heard in the chill morning air. 

Delaney walked over to her Jeep and got the ice scraper from the glove box. She scraped the thin glaze of frost from the windshield, got into the Jeep and started it, turning the defroster on. She had packed a five gallon bucket with supplies and placed it into the back earlier. She had several water bottles, a few Slim Jims, packs of peanut butter crackers and packs of salted cashews in a backpack in the back seat. She was ready to go on her adventure.

Delaney drove up the road a few miles. She kept her eyes peeled to the left, tryin’ to recognize the old lane that led in the direction of her destination. Her dad had pointed out that lane a couple of years ago. Delaney hoped that her memory would serve her well. She knew that it was not far from Angel Branch Road. If she didn’t find it, she would turn around and continue to search until she did. She finally saw what appeared to be an old dirt lane. It was in a state of disrepair, but Delaney was determined to walk if she could not drive. She turned onto the road and continued up it searching the hillside to the left for the remains of an old home. The Jeep bounced along the rutted road, jarring Delaney’s insides. She saw what looked like the remains of an old home on the left. She stopped the Jeep, reached into the back seat for her backpack and then got out and walked around to the back. After retrieving the bucket she slammed down the trunk and started toward what she was hoping was the home she was searching for. That home had belonged to her great gpa and great-gma, Caleb and Rosie Middleton. 

Delaney walked through the relatively clear field, but as she approached the hillside, briars, dead vines, bare saplings and bushes worked together to impede her progress. She struggled over, around and through the tangles until she stood in front of an old house festooned with vegetation. The porch boards had long ago fallen through but the house was still standing, at least in part. She looked at the home and yearned to try to go into it, but today she was just trying to get the lay of the land. 

She walked around the house as best as she could. An old tobacco stick was laying on the ground and she bent down to pick it up. No tellin’ how long it had lain there, but it was still a pretty stout stick. Delaney kept it for a walking stick and continued up the holler past the home. There should be a smaller home up there somewhere. Her great grandparents had separated after all of their surviving children were grown. Caleb had spent time with various family members and friends until his death. Rosie didn’t need the bigger home so she moved into a smaller home just up the holler from the larger house. Caleb and Rosie’s son Frank and his family would move into the larger home. Delaney was now searching for the remains of Rosie’s small cabin. 

Delaney continued up the holler until she saw a small structure that was in a sad state of disrepair. There was nothing really left that she would ever be able to go into. This had been the home where Great Gma Rosie had spent the last years of her life. It was not much to look at, at present, but Delaney glanced around and noted the beauty of her surroundings. Even though it was early spring and there was no real greenery save for a smattering of cedars across the hillsides, Delaney could appreciate the scenery around her and she could imagine how much more beautiful it would be later in spring and during other times of the year.

Delaney glanced around one last time before continuing up the holler. She had one more place that she wanted to visit before the day was done. Reaching that place may prove to be a little difficult. She needed to continue on before the sun began to fade. She glanced warily at the rather steep hillside and began climbing. It was hard going carrying the bucket. She probably should have put its contents inside her backpack. Delaney used a carabiner to clip the bucket to the strap of her backpack. She continued up the steep hill, the bucket constantly bumping against her butt with each step

Sometime later, Delaney made it to the top. The air was still chill, but climbing the hill had made her hot. She sat her walking stick aside, took her backpack with attached bucket off and sat it on the ground. She then took off her sweat shirt and tied it around her waist and sat on a fallen log to rest. She realized that she was thirsty and pulled a water bottle from her back pack. She drank the water down in a few long gulps and sat there catching her breath. She glanced around, looking for what she knew was there somewhere, headstones. 

Delaney sat for a few moments, her eyes scanning the landscape searching for a sign of the markers she knew should be there. The little cemetery had obviously not been visited in years. Overgrowth covered the ground. She sat, wondering if she was even in the right place. From what her cousin Ms Leona had told her, this should be the right place, but who knew?

Delaney’s eyes continued their search as she sat on the log. Over there on the left, there looked to be a rock peeping between the brown vines. She stood and walked over toward the spot. As her attention was focused on the vine covered stone, she tripped and fell to the ground. Fortunately, overgrowth softened her landing. Her hip smarted and her hand was abraded where she had caught her fall, but she was sure that she had not broken or sprained anything. She thanked God as the possible danger of her lone explorations suddenly hit her.

Delaney glanced back to see what had tripped her. It seemed to be a rock. She turned on her hands and knees to the rock and began pushing aside the brown overgrowth that covered it. It was a rock. As she pushed back more and more overgrowth, she saw letters etched into the face of a flat stone. That stone had once stood upright, but now lay amidst nature’s seasonal detritus. Excitedly she stood and carried her bucket to the stone. She retrieved a pair of work gloves, a small rake-like hand cultivator and a soft brush from the bucket. She kneeled in front of the stone and continued clearing the ground around it and the fallen leaves and dirt from it until she could make out the carvings:

                                                         

                                                            Peter Smith

                                                       Born June 27 1922

                                                        Died Aug 23 1922

Peter was the first child born to Delaney’s Gma and Gpa Nannie and Daniel Smith. Delaney felt a heaviness in her heart when she thought of her Gma and Gpa losing Peter. Childbirth was dangerous back then. Most folks gave birth at home with the help of a midwife and death of mother and/or child was a very real possibility. She thought of the relief and joy that her grandparents must have experienced after his birth.She could imagine their awe and pride at having produced such a perfect child. Delaney could almost see the twinkle in her Gpa Daniel’s blue eyes when he looked upon his firstborn. She could almost feel the love that her Gma Nannie must have felt for that sweet babe as she looked down upon his innocent face while he nursed. She could almost see the twinkle in her Gpa’s eyes replaced with glistening tears and almost feel the heartache that filled her Gma when Peter had died. 

Peter had not even lived two months, hardly time enough to leave his mark on this world, but long enough to leave a permanent mark on the hearts of both of his parents. Even though the little cemetery was all but forgotten Delaney was happy that he had this headstone. His name and lifespan were recorded there for Delaney and others, proof that Peter Smith had indeed passed through this world.

Delaney finished cleaning around Peter’s small stone and then turned her attention back to the stone she had initially seen. It was still upright and was a bit larger than Peter’s stone. She pulled at the brown vines that had tried to swallow the stone up. She used the cultivator to pull them away along with vegetation from the base of the stone. This stone was more moss and lichen-covered than Peter’s stone was. The letters had not been etched as deeply and the carvings were more difficult to decipher than Peter’s also. She moved her fingers over the stone, feeling the indentations. She could make out Betsy King. Betsy was Gma Nannie’s maternal Gma and thus Delaney’s great great Gma. She continued to clean the debris from around the stone until there was a small patch of bare ground around it. She took the soft brush from her pocket and brushed the stone’s surface. As best as she could make out, the stone read:

                                                             Betsy King

                                                             Born 1845

                                                          Died Dec 1926

                                                        Beloved Mother

Somehow, those words chiseled in stone nearly a century ago made Betsy King more of a real person to Delaney than she had ever seemed before. Betsy was her GGgma and she was tied to her through that relationship, but Betsy had died years before even Delaney’s father had been born. “Beloved Mother”; somehow those words took Betsy from being a name and dates plugged into a tree on Ancestry and made her into a woman of flesh and bones, a woman much as her own mother. Betsy had been a woman who had lived and loved, who had laughed and cried, who had experienced all of the things life had thrown her way until death claimed her in December of 1926. 

Delaney continued to scratch at the earth surrounding Betsy’s grave until it was clean and her grave was easily seen. She then went back to her fallen log and sat down. She reached into her backpack and pulled out another water bottle, a Slim Jim and a pack of cashews. She let her gaze rest on the two graves that were now visible and smiled with a sense of satisfaction. She ate her Slim Jim as her eyes continued over the little cemetery. She noted what appeared to be more stones. She drank half of her water, ate her cashews, finished the bottle and returned to her work. 

She began clearing another area that held another stone. It looked similar to Peter’s. Delaney cleared it off, brushed the stone’s surface and saw the name carved into the stone:

                                                       

 

                                                        Chester Middleton

                                                          Born May 6 1918

                                                          Died July 15 1932

Chester was Delaney’s great uncle, and was Caleb and Rosie’s son. He had died as a teenager from blood poisoning. Ms Leona, an older cousin who Delaney often talked to in order to get family stories, was the daughter of Frank Middleton and had lived very close to Rosie. She had spent much time with her Gma Rosie. Rosie had told her that he had stuck his toe on a briar. Ms Leona said that it must have happened during the “dog days” because the wound got infected. According to Delaney’s dad, his mother, Chester’s sister Nannie had played a big role in trying to nurse him back to health. In spite of this, Chester succumbed to the deadly infection. He was buried in this little cemetery up the holler from his parents’ home. After Chester’s death, Rosie had taken her son’s shoes, his clothes, his marbles and his school books and placed them into a trunk.

Ms Leona had told Delaney that for years after Chester’s death, every summer, her Gma Rosie would take Chester’s clothes from the trunk. She would wash them and hang them on the line to dry. As she hung his clothes on the line, tears would pour down her cheeks. Ms Leona had said that she was just a girl then and could not understand why her Gma would cry like that. Since that time, Ms Leona has had children of her own pass away. She had told Delaney that she hadn’t understood her Gma’s tears back then, but she reckoned that she sure did understand them now.

Well, Chester’s grave was looking pretty good, so Delaney moved on to the next stone. It was a bit shorter than the others and more square. She repeated the process of removing the vegetation that was trying to hide it. She brushed off the surface and Delaney was pleased to see that the letters were clearly legible.

                                                               

 

                                                              Mother

                                                                Rosie

                                                             Middleton

                                                           Apr. 25, 1882

                                                          Oct. 23, 1955

                                                    A tender mother and 

                                                           faithful friend

Rosie was Delaney’s Ggma. She had died before Delaney’s birth and she had been little more than a name, a face in a picture and some dates before Delaney had met Ms Leona. Ms Leona had shared several of her memories of Rosie, Caleb and other family members with Delaney. As a result, Delaney almost felt that she had actually known them. 

Delaney cleared a circle around Rosie’s grave and began to search for the other graves that she knew would be there. She saw what she thought was another stone. Yes, it was. She repeated the process, clearing overgrowth from around it and brushing it with the soft brush.

                                                       

 

                                                      Jennie Joy Smith      

                                                      Born Feb 17 1940

                                                      Died Dec 13 1940

                                                        Daughter of Mr

                                                    and Mrs Daniel Smith

Jennie was another baby lost by Delaney’s Gma and Gpa. Delaney cleared around the small grave and took a long drink from a water bottle before moving on to what she hoped was another stone that she was looking for. This one was broken like Peter’s had been and was lying on the ground. Delaney cleared it off and could see nothing etched in the stone. She carefully lifted it up. A few roly polies lay in the moist indentation made by the stone. Delaney gently turned the stone over and brushed the dirt from its surface. She could tell that there had been carvings in the stone, but they were no longer legible. This was consistent with what her father had told her. He had said that a couple of rather inconsiderate cousins had often spent time in the cemetery target practicing with their sling shots. This stone had been one of those targets. Damage from those stones slung at the marker had made it indecipherable. Delaney knew that there would be another marker like this. She finished clearing this grave and searched for the remaining grave. It was nearby and easily found as it was still upright. After clearing around and brushing the stone, Delaney was greeted by the same indecipherable scratches. 

She knew that these two graves were for two more babies lost by Gma and Gpa Smith. Delaney stepped over to her bucket and found two small metal plaques. She did not know which grave belonged to her aunt and which to her uncle, but she placed one square on top of the stone that was broken.

                                                           Grant Smith 

                                                       Born Oct 22, 1925

                                                        Died Dec 9, 1925

                                    Son of Daniel and Nannie Middleton Smith

                                                    Gone but not forgotten.

 

She placed the other at the base of the upright stone.

                                                            

 

                                                           Willa Smith

                                                       Born Feb 6, 1936

                                                      Infant daughter of

                                         Daniel and Nannie Middleton Smith 

                                                   Gone but not forgotten.

 

Delaney had found and cleared around all of the stones in this small family cemetery. She grabbed another water bottle and returned to her fallen log. She sat down and was suddenly overcome by sadness and a bone deep weariness. Tears slid down her cheeks as she sat there thinking about those four babies that her grandparents had lost. 

Delaney remembered how Ms Leona had told her that Delaney’s Gma Nannie would ride a mule to visit with her momma Rosie every Sunday. After visiting with Rosie, Gma Nannie had always made her way up to that cemetery at the top of the hillside to visit the brother that she had tried so hard to nurse back to health,  her maternal grandmother, Betsy Harris King, and  her babies. Yes, those babes were gone, but they had definitely not been forgotten…at least for as long as her Gma Nannie had lived.

Delaney also remembered how her Gma Nannie had made butter by putting the cream that had risen to the top of the milk from their cow into a gallon jar. She would screw the lid onto that jar and would sit in a chair rocking that jar over her knee until she had butter. Delaney wondered if Gma wasn’t reminded of those babies every time she rocked that butter jar. 

She knew that she was silly, weeping for babies lost decades before she was born, but she just could not shake that sadness. She was so tired that she did not know if she could make it back down the steep hillside. It looked like it wouldn’t be dark for an hour or two so she lay her sweatshirt on the ground near the log and she lay down on her belly with the shirt and her arms under her head. The ground was cold and the air was beginning to get chillier, but she would just lie here and rest for a few minutes  before returning home. 

As Delaney lay there, she thought about the four generations of her family that rested nearby. All of them had died years before she had been born, but she knew that she still held part of them deep inside of her, inside her DNA. She could not stop thinking about the sorrow that her sweet Gma and Gpa had borne. She doubted that they had even had time to grieve, as there were endless chores to do in order to provide for their remaining children. The tears continued to slide down her cheeks, leaving warm tracks on her cool skin. She drifted off to sleep.

Delaney felt a hand gently sweeping the hair that had fallen into her eyes back and she heard a rough, yet soft feminine voice, “Shhhhh, shhhh child”. She lay there for a moment enjoying that comfort, and then she remembered where she was. Her eyelids flew upward to see who else had happened to this seemingly forgotten graveyard at the same time she had!

She saw nothing. She sprang up from ground and made a 360 degree pivot. There was no one there. Shivers began to make her arms become gooseflesh and her teeth began to nearly chatter. There was still some daylight left, but the air was getting chilly and the ground must have been colder than she had thought. A slight breeze was stirring the air and blowing through the cedar trees, making a soft soughing sound. Delaney must have been dreaming and that along with the breeze rustling her hair and soughing through the trees accounted for the feeling of another’s presence.

Delaney gathered up everything she had brought with her, making sure that the only signs she left of her visit were the two plaques and perhaps evidence that these folks were loved and not forgotten. She carefully descended the hill, went to her Jeep and headed back down the road to her home away from home.

When she got back to the house, she was still chilled. She wanted to take a hot shower, put on some warm PJs and then eat something before turning in. Shoot,  Delaney realized that she had forgotten to run to the store today. Oh well, she still had Slim Jims, peanut butter crackers and some raisins; she would make it to the store tomorrow.

Delaney took her shower before eating her “supper”. She was still chilled and needed to warm up before she could eat. She turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up before jumping into the cascading warmth. She stood for a couple of minutes just letting the warm water slowly wick the chill from her bones. When she finally warmed up, she finished her shower, got out and put on her flannel pajamas. Boy, she felt better! 

Delaney ate her supper, such as it was, before brushing her teeth. She climbed into bed, got under the quilts, propped up on her pillows and picked up her laptop. Delaney opened her journal and entered her experiences of the day and then sat her laptop aside. She rearranged her pillows and lay down, snuggling deep under the warm quilts. As she drifted to sleep, she once again noted the faint smell of cedar in the air. 

That night, Delaney dreamed of being in the little cemetery again, except it must have been summer in her dream. Everything was green and beams of sunlight filtered through a canopy of leaves overhead. Birds sang and the steady buzz of insects could be heard all around. It was beautiful, the graves looking neat and cared for and she noticed pink hollyhocks on the grass in front of each grave. She wondered who had placed them there. 

Then she noticed that the grave markers were all upright. There were no broken stones lying flat on the ground. Peter’s stone was upright as well as Grant’s! Yes, she could read Grant carved into the stone, and the broken stone had belonged to him. She looked at Willa’s stone and she could read the carvings there too. She had placed her plaques correctly; at least according to her dream she had! She stood for a few moments admiring the beauty of the little cemetery and enjoying the sense of peace that she felt there. Finally, she sensed that it was time for her to leave. As she turned, she heard a soft but rough feminine voice say, “Ya done good child.” Delaney smiled and headed down the hillside.

 

 

One month later

Delaney was awakened by a stream of sunshine through the bedroom window. Squinting against the sun, she slowly opened her eyes, rolled over and sat upon the side of the bed, thinking excitedly about the coming day. She was going to get to explore at her Grandpa and Grandma Daniel and Nannie’s house today. She had hired a local man to clear the lane and bush hog the creek bottom that their house and outbuildings sat on. 

It had seemed to take forever to Delaney. The man she had hired came with great references, but there had been several days of rain during the past month and the going had seemed to take an eternity. She had checked on Mr Dempsey several times right after he had started, but she hadn’t been back to see the progress since then. After imploring for him to please hurry one too many times, Mr Dempsey had told her that she needed to go home and he would let her know when his work was done. If she didn’t, he was gonna load up his equipment and head home, no charge for the work already done. It had been hard, but the waiting was going to soon be over!

Delaney got up, pulled on some jeans and a flannel shirt, and went into the bathroom off of the living room to brush her hair and wash her face. She hurriedly ate a breakfast of oats, toast and coffee and then threw water bottles, cereal bars, raisins and a PB and J into her backpack. She put on a pair of old leather boots, tucking her pants’ legs into the tops of the boots before leaving the house. On her way out, she grabbed a shot gun that her dad had insisted she bring with her. He had told her that “You never know when it might come in handy.” He had taught her how to use it and how to care for it. 

The weather had warmed up since she had first arrived at her home away from home and Mr Dempsey had warned her to watch for snakes, particularly copperheads. She knew that if she pointed the shotgun in a snake’s general direction and held the stock tight against her shoulder she could hit a poisonous snake if necessary. Delaney hoped that it wouldn’t be necessary.

 

 

Delaney put her shotgun and back pack into the trunk of the jeep next to the tobacco stick/ walking stick that she had picked up on her first real day of exploring. She hopped in, rolled down the windows and made her way down Sextant Creek a short piece before turning right onto Angel Branch Road. As she continued up the gravel road, the breeze blew in the window, wafting her hair around her face and surrounding her with the rich smell of the earth of the surrounding hills. Delaney was excited to be able to finally see what Mr Dempsey had accomplished during her weeks of banishment.

The gravel crunched under the Jeep’s wheels as she passed through the awakening green of the Kentucky hillsides. She was anxious to see the home place and paid little attention to the fresh green of new growth and the forlorn remnants of neighbors’ homes. 

She rounded a curve and there ahead was the old barn on the left. She noted a couple of shiny new sheets of tin on its roof. She glanced beyond the barn to where the old house stood. The land all along the creek bottom had been cleared of the tangles of overgrowth that had been there on her last visit. She continued on up the road until she came to the lane that had led down along the side yard to the back of the house. It had been an impassable tangle of young trees, bushes and brambles when she had last viewed the lane. Today it was a cleared path that the jeep could easily traverse. God bless Mr. Dempsey; he had even put a layer of gravel down! Delaney turned the Jeep into the lane but stopped before proceeding. Her excitement was being replaced by an unexpected feeling of reluctance. 

She had been waiting impatiently for this moment for weeks and yet now when she could drive down the lane, she was reluctant. She just didn’t get it. She sat there a few moments and imagined a time in the past when she had ridden down this lane. 

 

Her dad would have pulled the car up to the back side of the house. Gpa, wearing his overalls and his fedora along with an eye-twinkling grin. would have been coming out into the back porch before they could have even gotten their car doors open. He would come down the steps and eagerly open his arms for hugs before pulling us up the porch steps and into the house. 

Gma would be in the kitchen wearing her cotton housedress covered by a bibbed apron. She would be shuffling her bare feet across the linoleum of the kitchen preparing some of the most simple and yet most delicious food a person could ever want. The circular fluorescent bulb in the overhead light would be humming as the sounds of Gma pouring, mixing, sifting, opening and closing, all added to the music of a lovely kitchen tune. 

Gma would stop and wipe her hands on her apron before pulling them, each in turn, into a hungry hug. Gma and Gpa had lived rather isolated lives there on Angel Branch. They didn’t have a car and stayed at home much of the time. Delaney’s dad would always take Gpa to the store in the nearest town to stock up on what they needed. Unless someone was visiting, they were pretty much alone. Her mom and dad had both told her how Gpa would sit next to the window or out on the porch when it was time for the mail to run. As soon as he saw the mailman driving up Angel Branch, Gpa would start of the lane to the mailbox. He must have been hungry for news from loved ones!

All of these memories flooded Delaney’s mind as she pulled the jeep into the area behind the house, or what remained of the house. 

The back porch was a skeleton of the porch Delaney remembered. The tin sheets that had covered it, providing shelter from the elements had long blown away. The wooden boards of its floor were in various stages of rotten disintegration.