The Nash Sisters Page 3

  The other thing Frank liked was school. Frank wanted to learn as much as he could at school. He figured he would learn even more by reading books and watching other people make things with their hands. Frank called school a “path to understanding.” I learned a lot in school, but for me it was a path to getting a good job someday.

  When the service ended, all the people rose to sing the doxology. This was the song Caroline called the creature song. She knew it by heart. Caroline sang loud and off key.

  Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;

  Praise him, all creatures here below;

  Praise him above, ye heav’nly host;

  Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

  Then church was over. I was so excited about being alone with Frank, I could hardly wait. I leaned over to Frank and whispered, “Follow me.”

  I grabbed his hand and headed out a side door. I didn’t want to get in that crowd and take time to speak to the preacher before we could get out of there. I told Frank I was starving and that the lunch basket was full of sandwiches, fruit, sweet tea, and banana puddin’.

  Frank picked up the pace, and we ran out back, way up the hill, and stopped under the big oak tree. He said, “You stay here, E, and I will get the basket. I can dart around all the people and be back in a flash.” He was tearing off his suit coat as he ran to the car.

  I found us a good flat place to spread out the table-cloth. As soon as he was back, he started raiding the basket. I smacked his hand and said, “You gotta wait until I set it all out. This needs to be done right.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said as he spread out the picnic cloth. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head just watching me. I liked it when he watched me, so I took my time getting all the food out. Once I was done, Frank reached over and grabbed my waist. He pulled me next to him and said, “You were the prettiest girl in that church. I am glad you are mine.”

  I let myself fall over next to him, but kept my back straight and strong. “What do you mean I am yours? I don’t belong to you, I belong to myself,” I said.

  “Dadgummit, E, you know what I mean. I know I’ll never own you, but I really like being with you. And you chose to be with me. That is all I meant,” he argued.

  Looking into his blue eyes, I could tell he was a little hurt. I said, “Yeah, I do choose you. Now let’s eat.”

  For what must have been hours, we ate and talked. We shared stories we hadn’t talked about before. I told him I’d been thinking about how hard it must be for my momma to raise four girls by herself. He tilted his head just a bit—the way he does when he is thinking seriously. Then he asked, “E, why did your momma have to do it alone? What happened to your daddy?”

  I told Frank all about that day we heard the news. Momma raised us four Nash girls in the house her brothers built. She had three little girls and another one on the way when our father left for the war. Just after Caroline was born, Momma learned our father was not coming back.

  It was a hot Indian summer that year. Dianne and I were sitting outside on the porch drawing pictures and trying to stay cool. Caroline was crying up a storm, and I could tell Momma was fit to be tied. There was a girl named Lila that came a few days a week to babysit and do some chores. Lila was in the house helping Momma with the baby. Annie was in the yard playing with sticks and prickly seed balls under the sweet gum tree.

  A black Model T car drove up to the house and a man in a uniform got out and started walking to the house. I stood straight up and yelled, “Momma, come here quick. Somebody is here just like came to Mrs. Elliott’s house.”

  It was strangely quiet inside. Caroline was not crying and no one was moving. As the man got to the screen door and knocked, I was frozen. He called out, “Mrs. Nash, may I come in and speak with you?”

  Then I heard Momma’s shoes shuffle on the wood floors. She slowly walked to the front of the house. When she was in the hall and could see outside the screen door, she stopped dead. She stared at the car like she really couldn’t see it. The veins in her forehead began to poke out, like she wasn’t breathing. After a moment, in a screeching voice that I had never heard from her before, she yelled, “NO, you cannot speak with me! Not if you have one of those letters! I won’t take it. You can’t tell me nothing about my James!”

  I could see through the screen door that Lila was holding Momma with one arm and Caroline with the other. It was like she was holding Momma upright and without Lila, Momma would fall over. Lila gently helped Momma move to a chair in the front room, right by the hall. Momma sat down but was rigid. Lila looked toward the man at the door and in her soothing voice said, “Sir, you can come in. Just give us a minute.”

  I sat down on the porch stairs, not wanting to go in. I could see Momma through the front room window. The man walked slowly into the house. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I heard my mother scream and cry at the same time. Tears burst out of her eyes like what comes out of the well when you pump real hard. I had never seen her like that before and haven’t since. I could see her shoulders heaving as the man handed her a letter. Lila took the letter and said to him, “Thank you. You can go now. We will read this together.”

  After the man drove away, Lila said to me, “Ethel, go get your sister.” While all this was going on, Annie had run away from the house.

  I ran inside and hugged my momma so hard I thought I might break a rib. Then I took off to get Annie.

  By the time Annie and I got in the house, Momma was sitting quietly with the opened letter on the table beside her. She was drinking a cup of coffee. Her eyes were swollen, and her face was blotchy red. Annie started shooting questions too fast for anyone to answer. “What’s wrong with Momma? Why is she crying? Did you hurt Momma, Lila?”

  With Caroline in her arms, Lila walked over to Annie, put her finger on Annie’s lips, and softly said, “Shhhh and we can tell you.”

  Dianne, Annie, and I sat on the floor beside Momma, and she began to talk. She was calm and breathing normal, like when I hugged her every morning. “You were right, Ethel. That was the same man that visited Mrs. Elliott. He brought us a letter just like he gave her.”

  Hot tears sprung out of my eyes. “What did the letter say?” I demanded. Momma put her hand on my shoulder.

  “It is from the War Department. It says your father fought bravely in battle. He was killed but suffered no pain.”

  I was so angry I rammed my fist into the wall beside her. My voice was loud and full of anger. “He suffered no pain? The heck with that! We still have no father!” Momma did not even flinch at the almost cuss word. She knew I was right. We all knew everything had changed with Daddy dead.

  After I finished telling Frank about that day, I saw his beautiful blue eyes were filled with tears. I moved closer to him, and he put both arms around me. “Oh, E, that must have been so awful. I am sorry.” And he kissed me. And I kissed him back. No more words were spoken. Just holding each other and kissing. We stayed up there on the hill way past dusk, getting closer and closer like we were just one person. Then we took off most of our clothes and did something I never had done before.

  I told Marie the best thing about loving Frank was making her.

  NOVEMBER 1927

  Frank

  The Big Announcement

  The romance between Frank and me was built on years of friendship. We understood that our friendship, which grew into love, was as natural as an acorn becoming an oak tree. After that day under the tree behind the Methodist Church, everything felt different to Frank and me. We no longer seemed like kids who were friends. To Frank, I think love like this meant he was a grown up, even though he was only 16. He began to think about me as his girl and someday his wife and about him becoming a man. Some of what happened that November day I know because I was there, but some of it was told to me later by Frank.

  I CARE SO MUCH FOR E. She is so easy to be with. We talk about everything—what’s happening in the world since The War, what we wish for in the future,
and she even indulges me when I go on and on about sports. She and I were down by the grove of fruit trees one Saturday in November. The trees were in full fall color. It was like we were sitting in a sea of yellow and orange that day. There was a cool breeze, so we sat close to each other. Mt. Rushmore was on my mind for some reason and I said, “E, I saw in the paper that they are almost finished with Mt. Rushmore. You know that mountain where they carved Presidents’ faces. Let’s go out there and see it someday. Since we are going to travel the US together, let’s put that place on our list. I want to see how they carved faces in the side of a mountain.”

  I’m always planning for the future. E is the practical one. She said, “Just how are we going to get there, Frank? We don’t have a car, and you can’t afford one.”

  Keeping my dream alive, I said, “I hear Ford is producing a Model A that will be affordable to most people. Not just the rich. Someday I will be able to buy a $500 car.” E seemed deep in thought. She usually likes to debate my dreams until I stop. But today she didn’t.

  E looked at me, put her hand under my chin to raise my face to hers and said, “Frank, we have to talk about something important.” I could tell she was serious so I just listened.

  E said, “I have missed my monthly cycle twice now. I talked to Momma about it. She asked if you and I had been having sex. I told her we were petting a bit. She asked if I had been feeling sick to my stomach. I told her I feel like throwing up most mornings. She seemed certain that meant I was pregnant.”

  There were tears in E’s eyes. And they were not tears of happiness. She looked like she was scared. I asked her how we would know for sure. E said her momma said she could go to the doctor and have the test, but then the whole town would know. She said unless the test would make us do something different, there was no need. She also told E if she didn’t have a period this month, it’s pretty certain.

  I know a lot of things but nothing about this. I didn’t know what it meant to do something different. All I knew is I wanted to marry her and have a family, and that’s what I told her.

  Well, I thought I said something wrong because she started crying real loud, and tears came gushing out. I said, “What? What is it, E? What’s making you so mad?”

  She grabbed my shoulders and put her arms around me and said, “You are the best person in the entire world! I thought you would want me to get rid of it. We are too young to be parents or even to get married. I want to be your wife someday, but I didn’t think it would be now!”

  I laughed and said, “Heck, girl, don’t you know how much I love you? It won’t matter whether we get married now or five years from now. I will be the luckiest man in the entire world to have you be my wife! Now kiss me, you fool!”

  We did a lot of kissing that afternoon. And we had sex, and it was as wonderful as ever.

  Just when we headed for home, it began to rain. Maybe it was an omen. Then I was the one who got quiet. It dawned on me that we had to tell my parents. That would not be easy. My mother would not be as understanding as E’s mother. She worried so much about appearances, and she often said she had plans for my life.

  In my mind I began putting the plan together on how to tell my parents, but things did not go as I hoped.

  The next morning my parents and I went to the Baptist Church. My mother loves going to church. She says it’s wonderful to hear God’s words. I think it’s more about being seen. She always dresses in her finest clothes and shoes. She also buys Dad and me clothes for church. We all had to look our best. More than a few times she said, “It makes me happy to show off my family!”

  Well, I figured I would take advantage of Mother’s good mood after church and tell her and my father my good news. We often went to Sally’s Diner after church, and I suggested we do that today. More time showing off her family and being in public would keep Mother from throwing a fit when she heard what I had to say.

  As we walked up to the church, I saw on the sign placed next to the church door announcing the sermon topic—“Sins of our Day.” That made me a little nervous, but who knows which sin the pastor will pick. According to Pastor Brown, most things in life are sins. After the first hour passed, he began his sermon.

  He began, “Today I will speak about a subject that might be difficult for the young people to hear. So, fathers and mothers, if you are worried about what your child hears, let them go outside and play.”

  He paused for a few minutes to let the children go outside. The Sunday school teacher led the children down the aisle and out the door. They all seemed excited to leave.

  Pastor Brown started in. “We live in the Roaring Twenties. That is what the papers say. I agree. Our country is roaring with sin. Women wear immodest clothes that show much of their body. Men drink alcohol until they pass out in the streets. Mobsters kill each other just for territory. Families spend money just because they have it. Yes, these are roaring times. Times of sin.”

  I closed my eyes and blocked out what I was hearing. I didn’t want to hear his version of what God condemns or what He looks upon favorably. I knew he would find quotes from the Bible to back up his words. E and I often talked about the Bible being used for whatever people want to believe. There are passages for whatever goodness or sins you want to say is the truth. This made me furious, so I blocked out most of what Pastor Brown was saying.

  Then I heard him talk about sex, and it jolted me back to attention.

  “People talk about intimate relations in public as if we all want to hear about it. The movies, the music, the liberated woman all indicate that sexual immorality is everywhere. Push away temptation. Use your will to avoid these immoral behaviors. Paul reminds us of God’s words in 1 Corinthians 7:2, “but because of the temptation to sexual immortality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.” And in 1 Corinthians: 8-9, “To the unmarried and the widows I say that it is good for them to remain single, as I am. But if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to burn with passion.”

  I looked over at my mother and father. They were listening intently, as they usually do. I was glad they were paying attention. This would be my argument for marrying Ethel.

  Pastor Brown went on for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave me time to line up my points for the conversation with my parents. Then I heard the last sentences that the Pastor uses in every sermon. “That is the word of God. Thanks be to God.”

  As everyone repeated “Thanks be to God,” I almost shouted it. My mother gave me a smile bursting with pride at her son loving the word of God. If she only knew why.

  On the way to the diner in town, I was putting together my thoughts about the conversation I needed to have with my parents. Mother was eager to know what I was thinking about, and she asked me what I liked most about the sermon.

  I was quick to answer. I said, “I finally understand how important marriage is to not being a sinner.” Dad raised his eyes to the rearview mirror and gave me questioning look. Mother just looked down at her hands. It is not often that she is quiet when the subject of sin comes up. To me, the silence in the car was curious and funny at the same time.

  To fill the silence, I said, “I’ll explain when we sit down for lunch.” Mother started fidgeting with her gloves, and Dad could barely take his eyes off me in the backseat to drive. I wished I could hear their thoughts.

  The diner was packed. I led us back to the far booth. Sitting further from the door would make it easier to have a conversation. I wanted to do this in the diner because I knew my parents would be calmer in public. But I also did not want people to overhear what I was saying.

  After our food was served, I placed my napkin in my lap, hooked my fingers together and raised my elbows to the table. Dad usually blessed the meal, but he hesitated. I said, “I would like to say the blessing.” They both bowed their heads.

  “Thank you, God, for this food and for the enlightenment of Your word.” They joined me in the “Amen.”r />
  I said, “Mother, Dad, I have been thinking a lot about my life and my goals. Pastor Brown’s sermon today gave the timeline for my goals. I want to marry Ethel. If she can be a part of my life as I go away to Blue Ridge School in the fall, I could concentrate on my education. We will get married sooner rather than later.”

  The first thing out of my dad’s mouth was raw and louder than I wanted, “Have you knocked up that girl?”

  I could tell that the subject never entered my mother’s mind because once Dad spoke, her face moved from a listening smile to wide eyes and her mouth dropped open. Mother sat stiff but moved her eyes to look around us. I could tell she was hoping no one heard her husband. The couple at the counter near us faced forward and dropped their heads toward their plates as if to be invisible.

  Then Mother gave herself permission to speak, but only in a whisper. She leaned across the table, her jaw clinched as she spoke, “No, you cannot get married to that girl! She is beneath you. She will always be a farm-hand. You need a wife who can support you while you practice law or become a doctor. She does not have the social graces to live that kind of life. And she is a Methodist!” Now her face was flushing red and the veins in her neck were stretched taunt.

  I could feel the anger in my voice elevating. But I spoke slowly and was determined to make my point. I said, “Mother, I love Ethel. She is the only one that will love me enough to help me become whatever I decide.”

  Dad persisted but in a somewhat lower tone, “Answer me, boy. Is Ethel pregnant?”

  I summoned the strength to be truthful. “Yes, sir, she is carrying my child. Pastor Brown said today that if we cannot resist temptation of the body, then we should marry. Marriage is the way to bless our love in God’s eyes and not be sinners. You both taught me to follow the word of God.”

  Dad fell back against the booth, threw his napkin in his plate and said, “We are getting out of here!” He grabbed his wallet, tossed some money on the table and got up. “Come on you two. This is no place to talk about this!”