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Late Summer 1954
West Virginia Mountains
The tall skinny man with the beard was named Odie, and the
long haired blonde was his only
daughter Rebecca. Odie was 36 and Rebecca was 15 going on 25. They had lived in the old
log
house for the past ten years, since Odie’s wife was killed when her car slid off the side of a
washed out
piece of road during a Summer rain storm. Rebecca had never gone to school and
could not read or write but was very wise
when it came to living and surviving in the mountains.
Odie had gone to school as far as the third grade and could write
his name and read simple
sentences. Odie agreed to let Dad make him some teeth; payment would be six chickens, dead or
alive,
a painting of Teddy Roosevelt and a radiator from an old Ford truck that had not been
driven in several years.
“
Does the truck run Odie?” my Father asked. “ Don’t know. No gas.” Odie said matter of fact.
On
the second day we were there, Father began the task of making a new set of teeth for Odie.
He mixed up a plaster solution,
poured it into large metal molds and pried Odie’s mouth open,
forcing them into place while Odie squirmed and coughed
and gagged. “ Hold still Odie, hold
still. The plaster needs to set....hold still.” Odie face was turning red
and at one point Dad had to
remove the metal molds for fear Odie would choke to death. “Damn Doc, what ya’
tryin’ to do
man, kill me?”
It took Father all day to get the impressions he needed from Odie
as the two argued and fought
through the whole ordeal. By day’s end, Father had his impressions, Odie was calm and
Rebecca and I sat in front of the roaring fire as I read to her from Dad’s bible. She was amazed at the words I read
and stopped me many times asking curiously, “What that means?”
That night Dad and I slept in the LaSalle, bundled
tightly with home made quilts and blankets,
sewn together with threads from the pussy willow plants that grew all along
the moist banks of a
hand dug pond that filled with water, inexplicably
.
The next morning, Rebecca cooked
us a hot breakfast of eggs and chicken, sassafras tea and
stewed tomatoes. A few hours later I got sick and threw up the
green slime. Just in time for a
lunch of more of the same.
Dad spent most of his day by the fireplace, baking plaster
casts, forming teeth out of pieces of
soft melted acrylic before placing them into fresh mud to cool. He and Odie talked
for hours by
the fire, telling stories, and discussing the bible.
I spent most of the day with Rebecca in
the old LaSalle, reading to her and scrawling names and
words on a brown paper bag. Her crystal blue eyes would widen each
time she learned a new
letter of the alphabet and was able to scribble it on the bag. Her excitement was a cure for my
nervous
boredom and soon I began to enjoy our time together. In between learning the alphabet,
we talked of life in the mountains.
She was, I imagined, very bored and lonely. There were no
neighbors within walking distance, no radio or television, she
couldn’t read, nothing to do.
However, Rebecca wasn’t sad. She had a constant glint of a smile in her bright
eyes and her
voice was sweet and soft. “ What do you do here all the time?” I finally asked. She looked at
me
most curiously. “ Oh, there's lots I do. I swing on the porch and sing for papa a lot.”
“ What else?”
“
Well, I visit with Mrs. Tucker a lot. She tells me stories and stuff...”
“Oh, so you do have neighbors. I didn’t think you did. Where does Mrs. Tucker live?”
Rebecca cocked
her head, like a puppy seeking understanding. “ Well....
There was a long silence before she continued. “I
ain’t sure where she lives but she comes to
visit a lot. She lives up there somewhere ...” she said as she
pointed to a hill that was lined with
a wooden railed fence that climbed the mountain all the way to the top and beyond.
Her eyes
stared deep into the landscape for a moment before turning back to me. “ Write Sugar Hill” she
said,
“ Let me see how it look.”
“Okay” I said as I began to draw the letters, one by one.
“What is Sugar Hill?”
“ Oh that’s where we are. This is Sugar Hill right here.”
The sun
began to fade and shadows crept into the day. The light faded fast, obscured by the tall
trees and heavy brush. Rebecca
got out of the car unexpectedly and said, “ Common it’s time to
go in the house now.”
As
she scurried toward the house, I got out of the LaSalle and looked up the hill where the old
fence meandered out of sight.
The quirky shadows danced as the trees softly swayed in the
mountain breeze. In an instant I saw a figure. I stepped back
abruptly, stumbling against the car.
It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. I heard the sound of an owl just then and
raced
toward the house as fast as I could, bounding over the steps of the porch in a single leap, nearly
collapsing
once inside.
“What's the matter boy?” my Father anxiously asked.
Before I could catch my breath
to answer, Rebecca smiled and said, “ Oh he must just seen Mrs.
Tucker.”
While Father and I slept
peacefully in the LaSalle that night, we were awakened by the sound of
a woman’s voice. Startled, I jumped up to
look out the rear door window. Father was already
sitting up, his window rolled down and eyes focused on the hill where
Mrs. Tucker was slowly
walking down the slope, ever so slowly, holding on to the wooden fence. A sudden calm fell
over
me. I was not afraid at all.
Perhaps it was because Father was there to protect me. Perhaps it was because that the figure
slowly
coming down the hill was not intimidating with her long flowing Angelic gown and her
slow, graceful decent.
“
Is that her Dad?” I asked.
“ Yeah, I guess that’s Mrs. Tucker alright.”
We watched
in silence until Mrs. Tucker stopped about half way down the hill and then turned
and began climbing back up again. In
a short while she had disappeared beyond the top of the
crest. Father gave me a pat on the head. “Are you okay son?”
“ Yeah, I’m fine Dad. That was
really cool.”
" You do know that was a demon don't
you son?" "Yeah, I know Dad, but seeing it like that was cool because it is the first time I ever saw a demon." Dad
grunted but did not say anything.
We both settled back into the crushed velour of the LaSalle and soon the sun
was streaming into
the car. A new day was here.
Dad finally finished Odies dentures. We had been there five
days and it was time to return
home. School was starting in a few days and Mom would be getting worried that I would not
make
it home in time to start the first day. We said our good-byes, loaded up our chickens into
the back seat, put the radiator
and painting in the trunk and began coasting back down the
mountain towards home. Odie waved goodbye, smiling ear to ear,
his new dentures shining like
glass in the sun. Rebecca ran behind us for a few yards, waving the whole time, Dad’s
bible
clutched tightly in her hands.
I would miss Rebecca. As the years passed I wondered what ever
happened
to her and Odie. Father had always said we would return to Sugar Hill to visit them,
and Mrs. Tucker. Somehow the years
just slipped away.
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