the following is an excerpt from a novelette i had been working on for quite some time.. it chronicles the life and times of a deaf, mute, Appalachian woman by the name of silence. it is written in dialect,, as well as a form i like to call rhyming prose.. if you enjoy this excerpt there are many more where this came from and you can find the unfinished story in its entirety, here….
I
if they spoke a her birth,,, she never heard ‘em… if they blamed her for mamas dyin’,,, she was unaware… if they thought that she was less than, ‘cause she couldn’t hear ‘em… they was wrong. ’cause she never knowed,, and didn’t care..
as a baby, she never cried,,, so they called her silence. as a child she never talked,,, musta’ had no sense… she couldn’t go to school,,, so she worked with papa.. in silence,,, she hoed, and planted, and mended fence..
when she was twelve they brought a man ’round.. name a henry… when she was thirteen papa sent her off,, to be his wife.. she cried inside,,, that night,, when he done it to her,, but in silence,,, she accepted it as life….
season passed, and she could see, her belly growin’… when her henry patted her,,, on the bump,, it made him smile.. but when the pains come,,, she had no way a knowin’,, that li’l henry had been in there all the while….
with henry workin’, sun up to down,, in the fields.. with no papa,, no kin,, all a this was new… she learned on her own, to care, for li’l henry.. he spent his days,, and learned they ways,, of silence too…
II
silence and her boy they cooked an mended.. they fed the hogs,, the cow, the goats,, the chickens too… they canned the fruit and smoked the meats and did the scrubbin’,, they did everything she come to know,, that she should do..
they walked for miles in the summer, just the two together,, they picked flowers, and pretty weeds,, no difference there.. they spent the winter choppin’ wood, and curin’ coonhide.. makin’ tend they wasn’t hungry, when the cupboards bare…
they made a friend, name ol’ miss may,, a bent old woman.. she lived, in yonder holler, just her, an’ them cats.. she learned li’l henry ’bout talkin’ and story tellin’, she learned ‘em both ‘bout livin’ off the land, ’bout birthin’ cats..
she could mix up a tincture, to cure what ails ya.. she could say a prayer, what would draw the pain, from henry’s back.. she could make a stew, out a weeds, and roots, and flowers.. she could make a dress, from an old, worn, burlap sack..
and when it come to birthin’, she knew,, no one had to git her.. she would come on up,, when the pains had just begun,, she brung a girl first a summer,, weren’t no blessin’,, truth was,, all they needed was ‘nother son…
the girl was fair, and she was thin,, they called her sister.. she growed up fast, and learned to walk in nar a year.. she had the smile of an angel, and they come to love her.. she weren’t a boy,, but henry said, “maybe next year…”
sure enough, her belly growed ‘bout time a plantin’,, by that fall, she was swoll clean out to here.. silence knowed now, and she could feel the baby growin’,, soon the night come, and ol’ may, she showed up there….
when ol’ may come, henry went off and left the women,, ‘cause he knowed his place,, and it surely wasn’t there.. when the boy come,, he had the caul of evil on him,,, ol’ may took him to the woodshed,, and left him there…
when she come back she sat in silence, and fashioned corn husks.. she twisted this, and bended that, and tied it here… she took great care, and and never spoke, whole time she worked it,, she give the doll to silence,, lit the candle and left her there…
silence lay sick, for what seemed like a season,, li’l henry he helped his pa, and sister too,, they did their best, while their ma was a mendin’,, but they couldn’t know her heart and spirit was broke in two…
on the full moon silence raised up, and put her dress on.. she took the doll, and the candle, and left the house.. she walked alone, down the mountain, to the holler,,, and there, she set fire to the doll,, and miss mays house….
she sat and watched,, as her tears, they fell in silence.. she loved miss may,, but she had to do,, what she had done.. for once evil, comes to rest, upon a family,, burnin’s the only way she knowed,, to make it run…
photo:
http://users.rcn.com/jcoplien/OrgPatternBookPix/MercenaryAnalyst.jpg
