Under the Red Oak

By Joe T. Massey

Clara was a godsend. She had to be, for few experienced such talent at 16 years old. The ability of playing the piano required hard work, but she learned quickly and easier than most. From experiences out of her control, she moved from Tupelo to the middle of the Mississippi delta. Though a loving grandmother welcomed her, the move was life changing and difficult for the both of them.
The piano she left behind was her first love and when her fingers were on the keys a gentleness and soothing came over her. Her mouth could never speak how her heart felt.
Memories of the past plagued her with fear at times as she was now alone, except for her grandparents.
Clara became friends with a dark auburn haired young man, who worked on the railroad. He too was from the "hills" and recently moved to the delta.
She finds the southern delta people very different from those in Tupelo, but soon steals their hearts.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456753498

Joe T. Massey

Joe T Massey was born and raised in rural Mississippi, but working in Seattle as a aircraft manufacturing manager,he chose to return in to his roots in 1999 and start his own business. He wanted his family to experience the simplicity, integrity and kindness found in the culture of the south. Joe lived and experienced the southern lifestyle, visited the towns and traveled the actual roads of which he writes, he desires to share with the world the richness and quality of life that exists in the south. Joe owns a business only fifty feet from his actual birthplace, so he writes as time permits, but one day in the near future, he plans to write full-time.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The car dodged mud holes here and there as it eased down the road lined with tall mature pines mixed with hardwood. Golden rods, Black-Eyed Susans, hickory, and sweetgum trees, and lespedeza laced the roadside showing gorgeous colors and emitting unwanted allergies.

Entering the open farm land beyond the wooded area, the weathered house stood like a monument adjacent to the massive oak tree. Not much sign of paint was visible, giving a death warrant to the old house. It would only endure a couple more of the rainy windy winters. It looked as old as the woman felt today. The arthritis had found a home in her bones and stiffened her up somewhat. Cotton stood chest high on either side of the road and also grew in the field where peanuts once grew.

Stopping at the front of the house, the car door opened as if the barking of a dog would be heard.

There was silence. No welcome.’

The rustling of the leaves on the big tree gave off a peacefulness she had not felt in many years. She turned to the young woman who had gotten out from the back seat.

Clarice, while you and your daddy go to town and get flowers for the graves, Libby and I will enjoy our stay and pick what is left of the pears and explore, so do not be in any hurry. The young woman wanted to say something but only frowned. Now, do not look at me with those eyes, we will be fine. Just fine.

Libby, you stay close to grandmother. Hear me? Libby, look at me. You do what you’re told. She shook her head, and then went off she to play.

She frowned, knowing it was a losing battle to say more. Reluctantly she got in the front seat and slowly disappeared around the corner woods. She was supposed to worry. She was a mother.

Someone was keeping the grass mowed or shall it be said, bush-hogged with the tractor mower. It was at least ankle high instead of knee high.

Libby, you get too far away I’ll get me a switch. Hear me girl?

Nodding and grinning she knew the sweet woman would not whip her.

The cypress swing no longer hung on the limb of the oak tree. Too many years had taken its toll. The house was mostly empty but a lone straight back chair sat at the rustic kitchen table. She carried it outside and sat under the tree as Libby threw gravel rocks. What was it that made a child want to throw a rock? The three year old girl was truly enjoying her afternoon, only a few minutes old. A bundle of energy, she loved her grandmother more than her own mom sometimes. She listened better.

A crow cawed in the distance. The cries made a calming sound as she found an old five gallon bucket. There were enough pears remaining to fill it. The birds had gotten their share and deer had been nibbling on the excessively ripe ones on the ground.

Watching the young girl, it was as if a movie had begun on the drive-in-movie screen.

Life was full of memories¸ good and bad. Both returned to her today. Another granddaughter lived apart from both her grandparents. She and her mom lived in Tupelo.

The daydream seemed real, like it was just yesterday… …memories came to life. The doctor listened attentively as he moved the stethoscope on Delilah’s chest. A solemn look revealed his findings.

Fluid robbing her of life steadily filled her lungs and replaced needed oxygen.

Clara sat and watched from the windowsill, her hair like shambles, as tears ran down her rosy cheeks. Thoughts raced backwards of the afternoon alone with her mama. Knowing the condition of her mama’s health gave an occasion to tell white lies, although Preacher Larry said there was no such thing. A lie was a lie but it wasn’t his mama lying there dying either. Delilah, Dee to those close around her, gasped for another breath as she and Clara were alone in the hospital room, it was hard on the sixteen year old to not give her mama hope. Holding the small frail hand, Clara told her how they would plant petunias in the flower bed next to the mailbox. Dee gave a faint smile in between gasps of breath.

We’ll plant snapdragons along the front walk leading to the front porch, Mama, and maybe add mums too, yellow mums will look beautiful, added Clara.

The smile and joy Dee saw in Clara’s eyes gave more encouragement than the doctor’s eyes. Realizing she was hearing white lies from her daughter only made love blossom. Lying there looking at her slim daughter, whose five feet eight inches had bypassed her by an inch last year, Dee knew another birthday cake she would never cook. Her daughter’s hair was usually worn straight and the hazel green eyes couldn’t hide what the heart felt for her mom.

The plants that friends had sent to her created freshness in the hospital room that gave greater relief than the morphine drip in her arm. Every day was long and very tiring for her to endure. Mid-afternoon the doctor came to check on her vitals. Afterward the aged hand wrote in the chart clipboard and handed it to the nurse at the bedside. With long, slow steps, he proceeded to the room of his friend from years ago. Taking Dee’s hand as he sat on the edge of the bed, the doctor tried to give an encouraging smile. His silver white hair and white hospital coat sent mounds of thoughts through Clara’s mind of ministering angels.

The doctor dropped his head and looked up at the dying woman again. He revealed glistering tear-filled eyes.

Dee, I brought you into this world back in 1925. Yes, I remember the year well. I was fresh out of medical school. Richard came walking in with Louise holding her belly with pain. I don’t know who looked to be more in a state of shock, her or me. She was scared. I was scared more, but never let on. Dee Saunders, he said as he wiped his eyes unashamed, you’ve been through hard times and good times: I saw your eyes open for the first time and I reckon I’ll see your eyes close for the last time. I wish I could give you hope but I don’t see any. You know that yourself anyway.

Dee shook her head in agreement, as Clara clasped hands over a young tear drenched face and cried more.

Doc Sam, as everyone called him, patted her hand, stood up, and walked with difficulty toward Clara. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. Softly and barely audible the doctor told her, Your mom needs lots of love from here on out. I know you’ll give that to her. Clara, if there’s anything, I mean anything you need, just tell a nurse and she’ll contact me. You hear?

Doc Sam walked slowly from the room down to the nurse’s station. Standing at the counter, he received medical charts of another patient. He heard the low agonizing cry emitting from the room he had just left. Returning to the room he stopped in the doorway. Clara sobbed over the mom who had left to join her daddy who had died three years earlier. It was if Dee just gave in to death. First, Clara’s daddy left her, now her mother. The sixteen year old was too young to be without parents. Down, down she fell as the darkness covered the sky.

Clara had called her mama’s parents the day she entered the hospital. That was two days ago. They lived just outside of Ogden, Utah. It had been three years since she had seen her grandparents, when they came for their son-in-law’s funeral. Tom died as the result of a horse accident. He and Clara had been riding and had gotten caught in a surprise rainstorm.

The rain soaked them as they arrived at the barn. Tom opened the gate to lead the two horses in as Clara ran toward the house to get out of the rain. From out of nowhere a clap of lightning struck the oak tree near the barn. The horses panicked and reared as Tom held to the lead reins. Just as quick as the lightning had struck, a hoof caught Tom on the side of the head, and the impact broke his neck instantly. Clara had screamed and had run back toward her daddy as he lay there in the rain.

It would take a day and a half for Richard and Louise to arrive for the funeral of their daughter. Clara waited until the local funeral director came for her mama. A nurse brought her a box as she had requested, and the heartbroken little girl packed each possession of Dee’s to carry home. Reaching for the bible, she turned to the inside and read: To Delilah May Reeves, This book will keep you from sin, and sin will keep you from this book.

This bible was well worn; the cover was cracked and ragged along the edge. She turned to John, chapter three, remembering the day her mama had marked the page. They had been in a summer revival and the preacher preached on Nicodemus. Dee had marked out the words the world and inserted DEE in their place so that it read: For God so loved DEE he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. Clara now rested upon that memory as the day her mama’s life changed, but it didn’t take the hurt away; it didn’t ease the pain, just as the morphine wouldn’t ease the pain of cancer.

Alone in the town of Tupelo, except for a few members of the church and a close neighbor, the young girl left the hospital and drove toward an empty home that was waiting outside the city limits.

As she arrived at home, sadness overcame the teenager. Having no insurance made the girl wonder about funeral costs that were a few days away. She was involved in monthly bills and had helped her mom for the past fourteen months by working odd jobs as she could find them.

Dee had talked some months ago with Clara about whom she would live with upon her death. Clara was a genuine country girl no doubt about that, but Dee’s parents were upper class and liked only the finer luxuries life had to offer. Richard was a professor at the University of Utah State, and that allowed his wife and him to live better than most. They were grandparents, but Clara couldn’t see how the three could live permanently together. Her other avenue of residence was Granny Mabel, her daddy’s mother. She lived in the delta, west of Grenada and a few miles south of Cleveland.

Mabel had a seventy-acre farm and lived a very modest life. She had a heart as big as the ocean but had a rough, hard side about her as well.

Picking up the phone, Clara called Granny as Cindy, her yellow cat, purred, wanting some attention. She reached and picked the cat up as tears fell, moistening the yellow fur.

Hello, she heard Granny answer.

Granny, her voice wavering, Mama just died.

Sobs stopped any further words from the broken heart.

Oh, child! I’m so sorry, Clara. Where are you at dear?"

Home.

I’ll leave in 15 minutes. I’ll be there soon as possible, my dear. I’m so sorry. Did you call Richard and Louise?

Not yet. Soon as I hang up talking to you I will.

Don’t you worry, child, I’m coming. Stay at home and wait for me, you hear?

Yes’sum, I will.

The hardest part would be telling Granddaddy and Grandmamma Reeves. Even though they weren’t close, telling them their daughter had died would tear their hearts out.

It was dusky dark when Mabel turned into the driveway. Clara had been looking and ran from the white house to meet her, throwing her arms around Granny’s neck.

Mabel Saunder’s tears flowed as heavily as Clara’s, as she also remembered the loss of her own son just a few years back. Though she was closing in on seventy years old, her physique appeared to be of a much younger woman. The brown hair was usually pulled into a ball or bun. The farm life had kept her fit and strong.

Your mama was a good woman, Clara. I loved her, she was good to Tom and you both. This world has dealt us a bad hand, but the Lord will help us endure. He’s right here, too.

They walked into the house and Mabel began to stir around in the kitchen when someone knocked on the door.

Hello, I’m Jenny, I live just down there, She pointed to the woods. Just behind those trees. I just heard about Dee. Got you something to eat, she said and handed the dish to Mabel. My other neighbor works at the hospital and she told me. Our hearts go out for you.

Clara also came to the door, and Jenny gave her a long hug and gave her a kiss.

Clara, we love you. Charlie and I will check in on you tomorrow. If you need anything, I mean anything at all, you call us, now, you hear?

Yes’sum, I will, thank you.

The night was long and dreary for the two. Daylight drove some of the gloom away, but making hard decisions had just begun.

Two days later the funeral was over; the Reeveses were returning to Utah. With the truck packed with all the household possessions they could muster together, Mabel and Clara headed to the Mississippi Delta. Some of the furniture would be auctioned off, with the truck, to help with expenses.

The long drive to Granny’s place was a quiet and solemn time for the sixteen-year old, especially since she left her piano in the house. It offered her tranquility and peace when she played. She began taking lessons five years ago and had been progressing rapidly.

Turning off Highway 51 onto the county road brought back memories of her mother and father as they had visited Granddaddy and Granny years ago. They had both enjoyed the farm life immensely and had found it relaxing and soothing. All problems had seemed to vanish away as they had sat and laughed on their porch. Thoughts of riding the horses through the lower field jerked Clara from her daydream. Chill bumps appeared on her arms. Her body finally gave in and she dozed off for a while but woke when they got into Grenada.

It was another two hours before Clara could see the house in the distance, as a cottontail rabbit zig-zagged across the gravel road before he darted off into the edge of a thicket. The road curved through the seventy acres, crossing the creek which ran near the two-story barn. Elegant wildflowers mixed with Queen Anne Lace which stood tall with elegant heads drooping in humility, adorned the roadside.

The old pickup slowed to a stop under the red oak tree at the end of the front porch. As Granny opened the door, the border collie yelped a welcome. Yearning for affection,

the dog ran around the truck and reared upon Clara, who didn’t seem to mind.

Mabel laughed. It seems old Lucky remembers you!

The yellow cat ran under the truck as soon as it reached the ground. It wasn’t pleased to see the dog. Lucky, however, was used to cats here on the farm, and after a few barks, Cindy was all but ignored since the dog was more interested in playing with the girl.

Mabel entered the house, and the screen door swung wide to make room for the boxes she carried.

Honey just put everything in here, Mabel said as she entered a vacant bedroom already storing odds and ends.

I’ll put you in the bedroom down yonder, she said with a motion of her head. Several trips emptied the pickup and Granny began stirring in the kitchen. Clara walked about and stared out the back window with her arms wrapped around herself.

Honey, why don’t you stroll around outside and check on the animals, while I fix us some dinner? Mabel hugged her tightly and kissed her on the forehead and said, Got a new baby calf, born just last Monday. It’s been sometime since you were here!

Lucky met Clara before she got off the backdoor step. The dog, not knowing the girl had grown up and wouldn’t play games as before, was glad to have a playmate again.

The farm was peaceful and time seemed to be unimportant. This time it would be different; it wouldn’t be a visit, it was to be home. The sadness and painful loss of her mama again clouded Clara’s eyes with tears as she entered the barn.

The golden Guernsey calf stood close by her mother. As she came close, the calf waved its tail, showing it wasn’t afraid. It nudged the girl in response to the scratching it received on the head. The yellow cat slipped inside the barn, unnoticed by all except the dog who now began to resume his barking.

Lucky! No! Leave Cindy alone! Clara shouted as the cat hissed and bowed up.

With the cat close behind her, she entered the feed room littered with empty feed sacks and old mule tackles which still hung on the walls. Everything remained much as it was years ago when Granddaddy Saunders had mules. An old table sat to one side, still covered with old medicines he had used on the farm animals. It had been seven years since he passed away. He and Granny had just celebrated their forty-fifth anniversary.

Come on, Cindy, let’s go. The cat strolled out searching for the dog that had already returned to the house, so Cindy surmised the coast was clear.

Mabel, having cleaned out the refrigerator called as she emptied the scraps into the dog pan. Lucky never refused his mistress’s calling, for he