Zeely Page 3

  Later on, as they fed the chickens, Geeder talked to Toeboy about the arrival of the Taybers in Crystal.

  “They must have come early one morning,” she told him. “They might have come from the west but I suspect they came from Tallahassee. They brought all their wild animals with them in a wagon train and they bought that house they live in from Mr. Crawley.”

  “How could they come in a wagon train?” Toeboy wanted to know. Geeder was thinking and didn’t answer him.

  “Mr. Tayber came down the road to see about using some of the west field,” Geeder said. “Uncle Ross was to get a third of the profit from the sale of the best razorback hogs.”

  “But why would Uncle Ross rent land to strangers?” Toeboy asked. “And what is ‘a third of the profit’?”

  “Oh, goodness, Toeboy!” Geeder said. “I don’t know what ‘a third of the profit’ would be. And if Uncle Ross waited until he got to know the Taybers the way you know ordinary people, he’d wait forever. Listen.” She stood very close to Toeboy, as though the chickens might hear and she didn’t want them to. “All of Crystal knows only a few things about the Taybers.”

  “What things?” Toeboy asked.

  “Well, they know that Zeely Tayber is awfully tall for a girl. Even Nat Tayber is very tall,” Geeder said, “but not too tall for a grown man.”

  “What else do they know?” asked Toeboy.

  “The Taybers like to be left alone,” Geeder said, counting off on her fingers. “Zeely’s mother is dead. Both Nat and Zeely have thin noses and very high cheekbones.”

  “Maybe the Taybers are Indians,” Toeboy said.

  Geeder had to laugh. “The Taybers are colored people,” she said, “just like you and me and Uncle Ross. But they are different from any people I’ve ever seen. We don’t know what kind of person Zeely is.” Geeder’s voice was full of the awe she felt for her. “But you know what I think? I think we’ve found a new people that nobody’s ever heard of!”

  All that morning, Geeder talked to Toeboy about Zeely. When they sat down for lunch with Uncle Ross, Toeboy was surprised by the off-handed way Geeder asked, “How long have those Tayber people been around this town?”

  “Oh, it’s been about a year and a half now,” Uncle Ross said.

  “That’s a long time,” Geeder said. “I guess you’ve gotten to know Mr. Tayber and his girl real well in all that time.”

  Uncle Ross smiled. “No,” he said, “I wouldn’t say that. The Taybers aren’t easy to know, although they are speaking-polite to most folks.”

  “What would you say then?” asked Toeboy.

  “What would I say when?” Uncle Ross replied.

  Geeder wished Toeboy would just keep quiet. “He means to say that if you don’t know them well, then what way do you know them?” she asked. “And why don’t you know them well when they’re in the west field every day working over those animals?”

  Uncle Ross took a careful look at Toeboy and a much longer look at Geeder.

  “Toeboy means to say all that?” he said to Geeder. “Well, I mean to say just what I did say. Mr. Tayber and his daughter live to themselves. They stay aloof from the whole town.” He paused. “One day, the town had no thought of them. The next day, there they were, hammering and putting storm windows in that old house once owned by Jacob Crawley.”

  “Just like that?” Geeder said, snapping her fingers.

  “No, not exactly like that,” Uncle Ross said. “Now that I think about it, there had been time . . . room . . . for people like them among us. It’s like it took them a long time to get here. The first time we see them, they are taking care to fix up that house. Strangers. And they stay on taking their time, still strangers. That’s all right, the way I see it.”

  “Strangers,” Geeder said. But that was all she said. She asked no more questions.

  But by nightfall, Geeder was ready to talk about Zeely Tayber once more. As she and Toeboy lay in their beds on the lawn, she began.

  “You would think a lady like Zeely would have all kinds of friends,” Geeder said. “I mean, being so tall and being so pretty. But there she goes with just old Mr. Tayber. She hardly even talks to him.”

  “He doesn’t talk much to her, either,” Toeboy said.

  “That’s because both Zeely and Mr. Tayber are different,” Geeder said, “with ways about them none of us can understand.”

  Toeboy lay beneath the lilac bush, hugging the covers around himself. He listened to the rise and fall of Geeder’s voice and was lulled into a deep sleep.

  Geeder stopped talking. She was watching the stars when there grew in her mind a lovely picture. . . . It was daytime, with sunlight spilling over Uncle Ross’ farm. She sat in shade on a grassy slope beside Leadback Road. Miss Zeely Tayber came gliding down the road. Her face and arms were shiny from heat and walking so long in the sun. She came right up to Geeder. She had been looking for her.

  “Geeder, have you waited long?” Miss Zeely said. “I would dearly love a drink of water from the pump room.”

  Geeder brought Miss Zeely a drink of water in a tall glass, and a silk handkerchief. Miss Zeely sat beside Geeder, sipping the water. She wiped her face with the handkerchief and then dried her hands. When she had finished, she folded the hanky and placed it in Geeder’s palm.

  “Geeder Perry,” said Miss Zeely, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Geeder pretended she hadn’t done anything at all. . . .

  “Miss Zeely Tayber,” she whispered to the stars, “oh, Miss Zeely!”

  Her hand touched something cool and heavy beside her. Uncle Ross’ flashlight! She had taken it from his workroom. She meant to shine the light on the night traveller just as it passed by the house.

  Suddenly alert and watchful, she listened to the silence around her.

  “If the night traveller tries to bother me, I’ll throw the flashlight at it,” she muttered. “And if that doesn’t stop it, I’ll scream and wake up the whole town!”

  But Geeder was tricked by the fresh night air into falling asleep. Many times she roused herself but did not awaken. Once she said in her sleep, “Is that you? Is that you coming?” It seemed that a voice came through the hedge, murmuring, “Yes, child, now sleep.” It was her mother’s voice. She slept more calmly then. She dreamed of home and people she knew there. In the morning, she was mad as a bull at having fallen asleep and had no recollection of the dream.

  6

  AS THE WEEKS PASSED, fine and sluggish, Geeder and Toeboy fell into a lazy routine. Each morning, they arose early to watch the Taybers come down Leadback Road. Each night, they talked of Zeely Tayber under the stars. Yet, try as she might, Geeder couldn’t learn anything new about Miss Zeely. She feared all that was to happen had already taken place.

  Some of the village children got into the habit of stopping by the farm to see if Geeder and Toeboy wanted to play. Toeboy either went off with them or invited them to wade in Uncle Ross’ pond. When the children stayed at the farm, Geeder hid in the sycamores.

  “I can’t think straight about Zeely with them around,” she said to herself. She didn’t want anyone other than Toeboy to know about Zeely until she, herself, knew more. Many times, she had to take Toeboy aside to warn him never to mention Zeely to the others.

  “I don’t see why,” Toeboy said.

  “Toeboy, if you do, I’ll never ever talk to you again!”

  When Toeboy ran off to town with the children, Geeder waded and floated in the pond. She tried to outdistance the water striders, but the long legs of the striders fairly skimmed over the pond. Often she dug in the earth, looking for insects. She found a host of maggots feasting on an apple core. She didn’t know they were the larvae of flies until Uncle Ross told her.

  “All life changes,” Uncle Ross said. “Some eggs change into chickens, some worms into butterflies.”

  The way Uncle Ross said what he did made Geeder feel strange inside.

  “It’s too hot here,” she said. “I
think I’ll just get away for a while.” She slipped off to a nearby farm where there were fields of wheat and corn.

  Geeder sat down in the middle of a long corn row. She pulled weeds to chew on. Purple morning glories twined up the cornstalks. Their scent mixed with that of the cornsilk and the black soil.

  “It’s awfully quiet here,” she said. She didn’t know why, but she felt kind of lonely.

  “Everything is just dull. Nothing’s any fun any more.”

  She stayed hidden in the corn until the odor of the morning glories brought yellow jackets on the back of the heat.

  Geeder went to the wheat fields. The wheat closed in behind her as she crept through it. The slightest breeze caused the wheat to whisper and bow.

  “It talks to itself,” she said, “just the way I do.” She made a nest by bending the wheat to the ground. She lay on it, listening. She was cooler here. The wheat was still green, keeping its moisture.

  “I bet Miss Zeely Tayber is lying down somewhere, resting like I am. I bet she doesn’t have a soul to talk to, either.”

  Geeder closed her eyes and folded her arms beneath her head. In no time at all, Miss Zeely Tayber came walking out from the dark of her thoughts. . . . She and Miss Zeely locked arms and ran to the other side of the wheat field, where Miss Zeely lived in a great stone house. There was a swimming pond hidden by plots of corn cockles and bluebells. She and Miss Zeely stayed forever just swimming and taking their ease of the sun. No one could find them. . . .

  Geeder slept through the hottest part of the day, waking only when the sun slid off westward. Her mouth was dry; she was chilled from the damp earth. She did not feel at all rested.

  “What’s the matter with me?” she asked herself. “What’s wrong with everything?”

  When she returned to Uncle Ross’ farm, she found that supper was ready. She ate little and talked hardly at all. Uncle Ross glanced at her often but said nothing about the odd way she was acting. Instead, he told her and Toeboy something that took them by surprise.

  “Nat Tayber plans to move forty of his prize razorback hogs tomorrow morning,” he said.

  “Move them where?” asked Toeboy.

  “All the way down the road,” Uncle Ross said, “through town and then out to Red Barn.”

  “What’s Red Barn?” asked Geeder, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Why, I know you’ve seen it,” Uncle Ross said. “You must have passed it coming in on the train. It used to be a farm but now it’s a clearing house for livestock. It’s about a mile and a half from here, a big place.”

  “And Mr. Tayber is going to move hogs all that way?” asked Toeboy.

  “Yes, to have them weighed and sold,” Uncle Ross said.

  “I bet Miss Zeely is going to help him!” Geeder said.

  “I expect she will,” Uncle Ross said.

  Geeder kept her eyes on her plate, and forced herself to eat.

  I want to be sure and see Miss Zeely, she thought. Maybe she’ll ask Uncle Ross if I can help her with the sows. If she’ll ask him, I’ll be able to walk right beside her all the way into town—maybe clear to Red Barn!

  7

  WHEN THE MORNING CAME, Geeder and Toeboy had the long, boring task of feeding Uncle Ross’ two hundred leghorns.

  “Any other day, I wouldn’t mind,” Geeder grumbled, “but if we’re to see old Nat move his hogs, we’ll have to hurry.” At seven o’clock, she sent Toeboy off to fib to Uncle Ross.

  “Geeder and I don’t want any breakfast,” Toeboy said. “We’re not hungry at all.” He was starving but he tried not to show it as Uncle Ross stared at him hard. Toeboy promised himself that later he would tell Uncle Ross the truth.

  “You and Geeder be early for lunch then,” Uncle Ross said.

  Toeboy said they would and ran back to the chicken yard in search of Geeder.

  Geeder was busily throwing great arcs of chipped corn in every direction. She loved the way it glinted golden bright in the sun. It was Toeboy’s job to empty the water pans and troughs and refill them with fresh water.

  “Why don’t you watch where you throw the feed?” he yelled at Geeder. He had to stop his work to brush corn from his hair. A lot of feed fell on top of the chicken coop, where the roosters would find it eventually.

  “Just stay out of my way,” Geeder said. “I’ve got to feed these chickens, don’t I?”

  They weren’t half through with the chickens when a terrible, throbbing squeal pierced the air. Birds in the Chinese elm trees, bobwhites and bluejays, set up a furious chatter, then flew away. Geeder dropped her feed pail and started running. She had reached the gate of the hen yard when her good sense told her to stop. She rushed back to the chickens, stumbling and groping for the feed pail.

  “Something awful has happened,” she said. “Hurry up, chickens, I’ve got to go help Miss Zeely!”

  By the time she and Toeboy reached the west field, Nat Tayber and Uncle Ross stood over a young sow.

  “She’s caught her hindquarter in the fence,” Uncle Ross said. The lower shank of the sow’s left leg was torn and bleeding through mud-matted hair. She quivered over her whole body and snapped and squealed as Nat Tayber ran his fingers over the wound.

  Zeely Tayber was there, standing at a distance, shucking corn into pails. She stood tall and straight, with a long shadow of herself thrown by the sun toward the animals.

  “She acts like nothing has happened,” Geeder whispered to herself.

  Zeely stood absolutely still except for the movement of her hands.

  Geeder tried whistling, but if Zeely Tayber heard her, she gave no sign. Once, Zeely paused to look in the direction of the injured sow. Then, as before, she went on with her work and was silent.

  Nat Tayber and Uncle Ross stared at the bleeding sow.

  “We’d better get her to your barn,” Nat Tayber said.

  “We’ll have to lift her,” Uncle Ross said, “and that’s not going to be easy.”

  Nat Tayber found some twine and tied the sow’s legs together. That done, he and Uncle Ross lifted the sow gently and, struggling, carried her to the barn.

  Geeder and Toeboy stayed by the hog pen.

  “Geeder, let’s go,” Toeboy said. “This place smells awful!”

  “I don’t care if it does,” Geeder said. “I want to see what Zeely’s going to do. You can go if you want to.”

  They stood watching Zeely but kept their distance from her. Razorbacks and great brute hogs, some weighing as much as four hundred pounds, milled around her like so many little children.

  “She doesn’t seem to mind them at all,” Geeder said.

  The hogs made angry snorts at Geeder and Toeboy, however, sensing that the two didn’t belong there.

  All at once, there was a flurry of movement among the animals. Zeely moved about in her graceful, aloof way. She collected all the empty pails as though she meant to leave.

  “Zeely!” Geeder shouted. “Aren’t you going to move the animals today?” Her voice surprised her. It was quite loud in the quiet field.

  Geeder never found out what Zeely answered. Zeely had turned toward her when an unearthly squeal came from Uncle Ross’ barn. Zeely walked over to the broken fence and weighted it down with heavy rocks so that the smaller pigs couldn’t root under it. Then she made her way from the field, swinging the gate closed behind her. She headed down Leadback Road, passed Uncle Ross’ house and did not look to the left or to the right. Geeder watched her go out of sight, wondering about her, hoping she would turn around. Zeely didn’t do anything more than walk away down the road.

  When Toeboy and Geeder reached the barn, they found Uncle Ross filling in a hole he had dug.

  “What’s that hole for?” Toeboy asked.

  “Entrails of the sow,” Uncle Ross said. Seeing Geeder’s questioning face, he motioned her and Toeboy toward the barn door. “You’ll find her in there,” he said.

  Inside the barn, they found the sow. “Why, they’ve butchered her!” Geeder
said. The sow was already skinned and hanging high overhead on an oak crossbeam. The carcass was bloody red. Geeder had to turn her face away.

  “I hope I don’t have to eat any of that,” Toeboy said. He gulped hard, for the sight of the raw meat made him sick.

  “Oh, I couldn’t eat it, I just couldn’t!” Geeder said.

  “You two get away, now,” Uncle Ross said, coming up behind them. “Go to the shed where there’s something for you to do.”

  “But I want to see Mr. Tayber move his hogs,” Geeder said.

  “Well, he won’t be moving them today,” said Uncle Ross. “Too much time lost because of the sow. He’ll have to move them tomorrow. You go on to the shed. There’s plenty for you to do there.”

  The day before, Uncle Ross had told them what he wanted them to do in the shed. They were to stack magazines and catalogs in neat bundles and tie them so they could be carted away. Geeder and Toeboy were more than glad to leave the barn. They rushed out into the sunlight, leaving the sad carcass of the sow and the memory of it behind.

  Geeder had an odd feeling whenever she entered the shed. It was cool and shadowy, always. Both she and Toeboy were barefoot and the earthen floor of the shed felt clean and fresh. The whole place made whispering seem quite natural. The roof was louvered boards, over which a large tarpaulin was fastened in bad weather. Today, the tarpaulin was folded away and long stripes of sunlight slanted to the floor. The sun got tangled in dust and cobwebs and glowed in dark corners. All was still. What little noise Geeder and Toeboy made was muffled, fading quickly. They took a good look around before settling down to work.

  They sat close together. Toeboy stacked the catalogs, and Geeder had the magazines.

  “I love going through old pictures,” Geeder said. “It’s the best fun of anything.”

  “It’s not fair,” Toeboy said. “You could let me have some of the magazines.”

  “Well, you can’t have any,” Geeder said. “Just do what you’re supposed to and be quiet about it.”

  Toeboy was mad enough at Geeder to hit her. But he knew she would start a fight if he did and she would probably win, too. He contented himself with the catalogs. He had two bundles of fifty stacked and tied before Geeder had stacked any magazines.