Rose O'Paradise Page 4

  CHAPTER II

  A WHITE PRESENCE

  "Does yer pa want me?" grunted Matty, lifting a tousled black head.

  Virginia made a gesture of negation.

  "No, he told me to get the hell out," she answered. "So I got! He'sawful sick! I guess mebbe he'll die!"

  Matty nodded meaningly.

  "Some folks might better 'a' stayed to hum for the past ten years thanbe runnin' wild over the country like mad," she observed.

  Virginia reached behind the stove and drew Milly Ann from her bed.

  "Father"--Jinnie enjoyed using the word and spoke it lingeringly--"says hewishes he'd stayed here now. You know, my Uncle Jordan, Matty----" Shehesitated to confide in the negro woman what her father had told her. Soshe contented herself with:

  "He's coming here soon."

  Matty rolled her eyes toward the girl.

  "I'se sorry for that, honey bunch." Then, without explaining herwords, asked: "Want me to finish about Jonathan Woggles' grandpadyin'?"

  But Virginia's mind was traveling in another channel.

  "Where's Bellaire, Matty?" she demanded.

  "Off south," replied the woman, "right bearin' south."

  "By train?"

  "Yes, the same's walkin' or flying'," confirmed Matty. "Jest thesame."

  "Then you can finish the story now, Matty," said Virginia presently.

  Matty settled back in her chair, closed her eyes, and began to hum.

  "How far'd I tell last night?" she queried, blinking.

  "Just to where the white thing was waiting for Grandpa Woggles'spirit," explained Virginia.

  "Oh, yas. Well, round and round that house the white shadder swep',keepin' time to the howlin' of other spirits in the pine trees----"

  "But there aren't any pine trees at Woggles'," objected Virginia.

  "Well, they'd be pines if they wasn't oaks," assured Matty. "Oaks orpines, the spirits live in 'em jest the same."

  "I 'spose so," agreed Virginia. "Go on!"

  "An' round and round he went, meltin' the snow with his hot feet,"mused Matty, sniffing the air. "And in the house Betty Woggles setbeside the old man, holdin' his hand, askin' him to promise hewouldn't die.... Hum! As if a human bein' could keep from the stalkin'whiteness beckonin' from the graveyard. 'Tain't in human power."

  "Can't anybody keep death away, Matty?" inquired Virginia, anexpression of awe clouding her eyes.

  She was thinking of the man upstairs whom she but twice had called"father."

  "Nope, not after the warnin' comes to him. Now Grandad Woggles hadthat warnin' as much as three days afore the angel clim' the fence andflopped about his house. But don't keep breakin' in on me, littlemissy, 'cause I cain't finish if ye do, and I'se jest reachin' thethrillin' part."

  "Oh, then hurry," urged Jinnie.

  "Well, as I was sayin', Betty set by the ole man, starin' into hisyeller face; 'twas as yeller as Milly Ann's back, his face was."

  "Some yeller," murmured Virginia, fondling Milly Ann.

  "Sure! Everybody dyin' gets yeller," informed Matty.

  Virginia thought again of the sick man upstairs. His face was white,not yellow, and her heart bounded with great hope. He might live yet alittle while. Yes, he surely would! Matty was an authority when shetold of the dead and dying, of the spirits which filled the pinetrees, and it seldom occurred to Virginia to doubt the black woman'sknowledge. She wanted her father to live! Life seemed so dizzily upsetwith no Matty, with no Milly Ann, and no--father, somewhere in theworld. Matty's next words, spoken in a sepulchral whisper, bore downon her with emphasis.

  "Then what do ye think, honey bunch?"

  "I don't know!" Virginia leaned forward expectantly.

  "Jest as Betty was hangin' fast onto her grandpa's spirit, anotherghost, some spots of black on him, come right longside the white one,wavin' his hands's if he was goin' to fly."

  Virginia sat up very straight. Two spirits on the scene of GrandpaWoggles' passing made the story more interesting, more thrilling. Hersparkling eyes gave a new impetus to the colored woman's waggingtongue.

  "The white spirit, he sez, 'What _you_ hangin' round here fer?'"

  Matty rolled her eyes upward. "This he sez to the black one, mindyou!"

  Virginia nodded comprehendingly, keeping her eyes glued on the shiningdark face in front of her. She always dreaded, during the excitingparts of Matty's nightly stories, to see, by chance, the garden, withits trees and the white, silent graveyard beyond. And, although shehad no fear of tangible things, she seldom looked out of doors whenMatty crooned over her ghost stories.

  Just then a bell pealed through the house.

  Matty rose heavily.

  "It's yer pa," she grumbled. "I'll finish when I git back."

  Through the door the woman hobbled, while Virginia bent over MillyAnn, stroking her softly with a new expression of gravity on the youngface. Many a day, in fancy, she had dreamed of her father'shomecoming. He was very different than her dreams. Still she hoped thedoctor might have made a mistake about his dying. A smile came to thecorners of her mouth, touched the dimples in her cheek, but did notwipe the tragedy from her eyes. She was planning how tenderly shewould care for him, how cheerful he'd be when she played her fiddlefor him.

  She heard Matty groping up the stairs--heard her pass down the halland open the door. Then suddenly she caught the sound of hurried stepsand the woman coming down again. Matty had crawled up, but was almostfalling down in her frantic haste to reach the kitchen. Somethingunusual had happened. Virginia shoved Milly Ann to the floor and stoodup. Matty's appearance, with chattering teeth and bulging eyes,brought Jinnie forward a few steps.

  "He's daid! Yer pa's daid!" shivered Matty. "And the house is full ofspirits. They're standin' grinnin' in the corners. I'm goin' hum now,little missy. I'm goin' to my ole man. You'd better come along ferto-night."

  Jinnie heard the moaning call of the pine trees as the winter's voiceswept through them,--the familiar sound she loved, yet at which shetrembled. Confused thoughts rolled through her mind; her father's fearfor her; his desire that she should seek another home. She could notstay in Mottville Corners; she could not go with Matty. No, of coursenot! Yet her throat filled with longing sobs, for the old coloredwoman had been with her many years.

  By this time Matty had tied on her scarf, opened the door, and asVirginia saw her disappear, she sank limply to the floor. Milly Annrubbed her yellow back against her young mistress's dress. Virginiacaught her in her arms and drew her close.

  "Kitty, kitty," she sobbed, "I've got to go! He said I could take youand your babies, and I will, I will! I won't leave you here with thespirits."

  She rose unsteadily to her feet and went to the cupboard, where shefound a large pail. Into this she folded a roller towel. She thenlifted the kittens from the box behind the stove and placed them inthe pail, first pressing her lips lovingly to each warm, wriggleylittle body. Milly Ann cuddled contentedly with her offspring as thegirl covered them up.

  Jinnie had suddenly grown older, for a responsibility rested upon herwhich no one else could assume.

  To go forth into the blizzard meant she must wrap up warmly. This shedid. Then she wrapped a small brown fiddle in her jacket, took thepail and went to the door. There she stood, considering a moment, withher hand on the knob. With no further hesitancy she placed the kittensand fiddle gently on the floor, and went to the stairs. The thought ofthe spirits made her shiver. She saw long shadows making lines hereand there, and had no doubt but that these were the ghosts Matty hadseen. She closed her eyes tightly and began to ascend the stairs,feeling her way along the wall. At the top she opened reluctant lids.The library door stood ajar as Matty had left it, and the roomappeared quite the same as it had a few moments before, save for thelong figure of a man lying full length before the grate. That eternalperiod, that awful stop which puts a check on human lives, had settledonce and for all the earthly concerns of her father. The space betweenher and the body seemed peopled with spectral b
eings, which moved toand fro in the dimly lit room. Her father lay on his back, the flamesfrom the fire making weird red and yellow twisting streaks on hiswhite, upturned face.

  The taut muscles grew limp in the girl's body as she staggered forwardand stood contemplating the wide-open, staring eyes. Then with a longsigh breathed between quivering lips, she dropped beside the lifelessman. The deadly forces eddying around her were not of her own making.With the going of this person, who was her father by nature,everything else had gone too. All her life's hopes had been dissolvedin the crucible of death. She lay, with her hands to her mouth,pressing back the great sobs that came from the depths of her heart.She reached out and tentatively touched her father's cheek; withoutfear she moved his head a little to what she hoped would be a morecomfortable position.

  "You told me to go," she whispered brokenly, "and I'm going now. Younever liked me much, but I guess one of my kisses won't hurt you."

  Saying this, Jinnie pressed her lips twice to those of her deadfather, and got to her feet quickly. She dared not leave the lampburning, so within a short distance of the table she drew a longbreath and blew toward the smoking light. The flame flared thrice likea torch, then spat out, leaving the shivering girl to feel her wayaround the room. To the sensitive young soul the dark was almostmaddening. She only wanted to get back to Milly Ann, and she closedthe door with no thought for what might become of the man inside. Hewas dead! A greater danger menaced her. He had warned her and shewould heed. As she stumbled down the stairs, her memories came tooswiftly to be precise and in order, and the weird moans of the nightwind drifted intermittently through the wild maze of her thoughts. Shewould say good-bye to Molly the Merry, for Molly was the only personin all the country round who had ever spoken a kindly word to her.Their acquaintance had been slight, because Molly lived quite adistance away and the woman had never been to see her, but then ofcourse no one in the neighborhood approved of the house of Singleton.

  Later by five minutes, Virginia left the dark farmhouse, carrying herfiddle and the pail of cats, and the blizzard swallowed her up.