Zettas mark, p.1
Zetta's Mark, page 1
Zetta’s Mark
An Appalachian Widow’s Victorious Journey
Sandra Picklesimer Aldrich
NOTE: While the faint basis of this story is the 1923 Eastern Kentucky environment of some of the author’s relatives, the characters, dialogue and actual details are the creation of the author. Thus, any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The names chosen are common to that area, and do not reflect the activities of anyone currently alive who may share that name.
Copyright 2019 by Sandra Picklesimer Aldrich
Published by Bold Words, Inc..
P.O. Box 51351
Colorado Springs, CO 80949-1351
All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced in any form, posted on any website, or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher and/or author, except for brief quotations in reviews and articles. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please delete it from your device and purchase your own copy.
Cover cabin photo by Sandra P. Aldrich, copyright 1994
Cover design by Miller Media Solutions
Edited by Cheri Gillard
Scripture is from the King James Version.
Library of Congress CIB has been requested.
ISBN-13: 9780463050705
CONTENTS
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
More thoughts about Zetta’s Mark
Zetta’s cornbread recipe
Sally’s fried poke recipe
Glossary of Appalachian terms
About the author
Embracing Eden preview
DEDICATION
To Connie Garcia, who keeps me organized.
To Luke Hulen and Noah Hulen, who keep me smiling.
CHAPTER 1
Zetta knew someone was behind the oak tree.
She tried to sound nonchalant as she scattered cracked corn to the chickens.
“Here, greedy girls,” she said. “Better enjoy this. Now that spring’s here, you can fend for yourselves.”
She shook out her apron and turned toward the tree.
Might as well get this over with, she thought as she pushed her dark hair from her face.
“Jesse Allen, you best quit skulking around.”
She shivered at the muffled sound of retreating footsteps.
“Go ahead and run off! You ain’t scaring me!”
Who am I trying to kid? she thought as she turned toward the cabin.
If Asa was here, Jesse wouldn’t dare pull a stunt like that.
She took a deep breath. Oh, Asa. If only you was still here. If only you hadn’t worked coal. If only you had listened when I told you about my bad dreams. If only….
Zetta opened the door into the kitchen quietly, hoping she wouldn’t awaken the children. But three-year-old Rachel already was in the front room, staring at the picture of Jesus near the door. Her rag doll dangled from her hand.
The child turned as her mother approached.
“Poppy’s not with Jesus!”
Not again, Zetta thought. She pulled the child close.
“Poppy is with Jesus, honey. We just can’t see him. Now let’s get you some breakfast.”
As Zetta took Rachel’s hand, two-year-old Micah came from the bedroom. His bare feet made soft slapping sounds against the wood.
“There’s my sweet boy. Did you use the chamber pot?”
As Micah nodded, Zetta smiled. “Come here with Sister so I can wash y’all’s hands.”
Both children thrust out their hands as Zetta pulled the kettle from the back of the wood-burning stove and poured warm water over the washcloth.
“After y’all eat, and I feed your little brother, we’re gonna make applesauce cake. Your Uncle Luttrell likes that.”
Rachel smiled. “Miz Clarie comin’?”
“No. Miz Clarie lives in the coal camp. But when I write her next, I’ll tell her we still miss her. Now you and Brother—”
Before Zetta could finish her sentence, a woman’s voice called from the porch.
“Hello in the cabin.”
Sally!
“Come on in!”
“Can’t! My hands are full.”
Zetta hurried to the door and smiled at her autumn-haired neighbor, one hand clutching a filled apron, the other holding a skillet of cornbread.
“Lands, Sally. What are you up to so early?”
“Here. Take the skillet. Wait ’til you see the poke I brung. First of the season.”
In the kitchen, Sally opened her apron and dumped short green stalks on the table.
“Jim found these back of the barn. Made me fry up a mess right then. Whoever heard of eating poke and cornbread for breakfast? But the stalks are good and tender.”
“Fresh poke! Luttrell’s turn is tonight,” Zetta said. “He’ll be tickled. Thank you.”
Sally smiled. “I was hoping Luttrell would be the one here. Jim wants to talk to him about the men pitching in to get your plowing done.”
Zetta took a jagged breath. “Asa always liked plowing. And this year he was gonna enjoy it even more since the land was gonna be ours.”
She sank into the nearest chair, determined not to cry in front of the children.
Sally put her hand on the young mother’s shoulder. “There’s no way in the world I meant to make you feel bad. Like I told you that night y’all brung Asa back, I can name plenty others I’d druther we bury. One of ’em is Jim’s worthless brother-in-law.”
Zetta tilted her head toward the children, causing Sally to sigh.
“I shouldna said that. So you planning on being at Sarah’s quilting tomorrow?”
“Might as well. Becky won’t be happy to see me,” Zetta said. “But she’ll be even less happy if I don’t show up. I just hope Mable Collins won’t come.”
“There’ll be food, so Mable will be there.”
Zetta stood to spoon gravy over biscuits for Rachel and Micah. “And the whole time she’ll call my sweet babies ‘poor little fatherless youngins’ and say to me ‘and you with three little ones not yet four years old.’ Like I don’t know that. But I shouldn’t be badmouthing so. Her being the preacher’s wife.”
She held the plate of biscuits toward Sally.
“No, thanks,” Sally said. “I’m still tight as a tick from eating so much poke this morning. But speaking of Mable, I heard tell she’s gonna visit a sister in a few days. So if you decide you are up to church this Sunday, she won’t be there.”
“I know I shouldna stayed home these weeks,” Zetta said. “But I couldn’t face her after what she and Becky was saying about Asa and me deserving what happened. Them saying that with him laid out in the next room.”
“I know. People can be so unthoughted. If Mable says anything mean tomorrow, I’ll accidently stab her with my needle.”
“Sally!”
“I said accidently. But don’t worry. I have to be on my best behavior since my girl Abigail got invited to quilt, too. This is the first time she gets to sit at the frame, so she thinks she’s all growed up now. Of course, Deborah’s in a snit about not going. She thinks she has to do everything her big sister does.”
“I’m glad Becky invited y’all. I was kindly afraid Paw wouldn’t allow it since he still holds a grudge against your Jim.”
“And maybe he remembers I held a grudge against him for marrying Becky so soon after your sweet mama died. But I realize now that men can’t seem to get along by themselves.”
Tears sprang into Zetta’s eyes. “You and Mama was good friends, Sally. And now here you are a good friend to me.”
Sally pulled a handkerchief from her apron pocket and swiped at her own eyes.
“She helped me bear little Mary’s death when fever come on quick. I couldna made it otherwise. And then she was gone, too. I still remember you and Loren and Luttrell standing next to y’all’s paw. And you holding y’all’s baby brother, and you just a little girl yourself.”
Sally blew her nose. “Well, I’m a sight now. I come over here all happy to give you a mess of poke but then got us both crying.”
Before she could say more, the baby wailed from the bedroom.
“Your sweet Isaac’s hollering for his breakfast, so I best be going,” Sally said. “We’ll get you tomorrow morning. And this time I won’t start us crying.”
Zetta hugged her friend goodbye. “Oh, Sally. You’re the only one who lets me cry.”
Then she opened her dress as she hurried to her hungry baby.
* * * * *
With all three children napping that afternoon, the cabin was quiet as Zetta pulled two perfectly brown
One for tonight and one for Sarah’s quilting tomorrow, she thought.
A shout of “Hello in the cabin” interrupted her thoughts.
That sounds like Jesse Allen, Zetta thought. Oh, I hope not.
But he was the one standing in the front yard as Zetta opened the door.
“I told you before, you ain’t welcome here, Jesse.”
He pulled off his hat. “Now is that any way to greet a feller who’s been gone for a while?” he said. “You could at least ask how I’m doing and where I been.”
“I don’t care how you’re doing and I know where you’ve been. You was skulking around my chicken coop this morning.”
Jesse frowned. “Wudn’t me. Both times I visited, I come to the front of the cabin. Skulking ain’t part of my plan!”
Zetta put her hands behind her back. If that wasn’t him behind the tree, who was watching this morning? She squared her shoulders.
“I told you before I ain’t interested in your plan, Jesse.”
“And I told you before, Asa’s dead, but I’m not. And neither are you,” he said. “But I’m a patient man. When a respectful amount of time has passed, I’ll come calling proper like.”
“You won’t be welcome then, neither. Now, I’m done arguing with you.”
Zetta stepped back and started to close the door.
“Wait! I got news about the trees around here! And that includes yours!”
Zetta huffed. “All right. What?”
“Even though you don’t care where I been, I was over in Virginia helping a cousin cut his chestnut trees for burning,” Jesse said. “There’s some kind of bad disease over there, so folks are burning the trees to stop it. And I hear tell it’s all over. In fact, your trees at the lane ain’t showing leaves yet. And mine ain’t neither.”
“Burning trees? But chestnuts are all over these hills.”
Jesse nodded. “Yes. And if we lose ’em, every one of us is in trouble. Make sure you tell whichever brother stays here tonight.”
“How you know about them staying?”
“Zetta, there’s not much I don’t know when it comes to you.”
And he walked away.
* * * * *
The cut poke stalks, covered in yellow cornmeal, sizzled as Zetta stirred them in the hot lard covering the bottom of her favorite cast-iron skillet.
Between stirs, she watched Micah in front of the fireplace as he bounced the dancing man on a stick against the floor then stacked his wooden blocks, knocked them down and restacked them. Rachel folded a tiny quilt around her rag doll and lined peach seed baskets on her toy stove.
Zetta smiled as she remembered Christmas morning when the children received the toys.
That was a happy day even if we was at the coal camp, she thought. We was all together, and the youngins was spoilt with all them play pretties. Oh, Asa. I wish I’d worn the red sweater then that you give me. What was the matter with me thinking it ain’t a proper color for a decent woman?
She shook her head, determined to think of other things.
“Time to put your play pretties up for now,” Zetta said. “Your Uncle Luttrell will be here soon and ready to eat.”
Her words were barely out of her mouth when both Loren and Luttrell opened the back door. Rachel smiled at the uncles, but Micah gave the blocks another whack before running to Loren, who promptly grabbed the child and turned him upside down.
“Loren! You’re gonna drop my boy! He’s getting too big for that.”
“Nah, Sis. I got a good hold on him,” Loren said. “Besides, you know I like shaking the vinegar out of him now and again.”
Then over Micah’s giggles, Loren continued. “You get both of us for supper, but I’m not staying the night. We come over to talk to Jim Reed about getting your plowing done. He was already pondering the same thing. We’re thinking Tuesday. We’ll tell some of the men at church Sunday, and that’ll give you and the women Monday to cook.”
Their brother Luttrell gestured toward the pail of milk he had set on the sideboard.
“Brownie’s doing a good job keeping y’all in milk.”
“That reminds me,” Loren said. “You gotta be thinking about building up your livestock. The sows had piglets, so when they’re ready, Paw’s sending you two. Same to me and Sarah. And with us doing your plowing, you won’t need that new team of mules Asa talked about.”
Zetta nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Oh, Asa. You had so many plans for the farm. For our youngins. How could everything change in those awful minutes?
She turned toward the stove. “Y’all wash up. Supper’s ready. Sally brung over poke stalks and cornbread this morning. And along with the soup beans, I made applesauce cake for tonight and a second one for the quilting tomorrow.”
Luttrell patted Zetta’s shoulder as he reached for the kettle of hot water on the stove.
Zetta’s eyes filled with tears. He always knows what my heart’s holding, she thought.
Loren righted the giggling Micah and plopped him into his chair at the table.
“Hey, Sis. You mentioned the quilting,” Loren said. “You should’ve seen Becky ordering around our little brothers today getting ready. She was making them sweep floors and tote chairs. Next thing you know, she’ll have ’em cooking and doing washings and other women’s work.”
“You’re sounding like Paw now,” Zetta said as she set food on the table. “They have names. Hobie and Frankie. And it never hurt a man to know how to fix a meal or two. Comes in handy now and again.”
“Well, not me,” Loren said as he waited behind Luttrell for his turn at the wash pan.
“I’ll take care of the barn and animals, and Sarah will take care of the house and the youngins when they come. And we see eye to eye on that.”
Loren nudged his brother’s arm. “And speaking of eyes, Jim’s girl Abigail is a real beauty now that she’s growed into hers,” he said. “I was just a little feller, but I remember when she was born. She looked like a white frog with them big eyes. And tonight she was using them to look at you real sweet like. And you didn’t even notice.”
Zetta saw Luttrell’s face flush. “Oh, I noticed,” he said. “But she was a little girl when we left and was all growed by the time we brung Asa back. Her growing up takes getting used to.”
“Well, you better get used to it fast, or you’re gonna be left in another man’s dust,” Loren said. “Just like you was at the camp when Clarence beat you out of that pretty teacher.”
“No need to bring that up again.”
“Now look, I’m not exactly partial to the Reeds,” Loren said. “But I’m your big brother and trying to look out for you. And if you don’t like Abigail, Sarah’s cousin Naomi is visiting this week.”
Zetta saw Luttrell shake his head as he sat down. She knew he was through talking.
“Loren, you ain’t no more than ten months older than Luttrell,” Zetta said as she helped Rachel into her chair. “I don’t know if that counts as being a big brother. But one of you pray for the food. Then I got something I need to talk to y’all about.”
Loren shrugged. “All right. We thank you, Lord, for this food and ask you to bless the hands that prepared it. Amen.”
“Loren! You ain’t even sitting down. And you didn’t give us a chance to bow our heads!”
“You said you had something to talk to us about,” Loren said as he pulled out a chair. “So I was just trying to hurry and let you have your say.”
“And I was hoping you getting married in a few weeks would settle you down,” Zetta said. “But I guess not. Anyway, somebody told me chestnut trees over in Virginia are being burned to stop a bad disease. And that our trees here are in danger, too.”
“I’ve been wondering why our chestnuts ain’t leafing out good,” Loren said. “I noticed yours the day me and Sarah brung you and the youngins back to your farm. But who told you about the Virginia trees?”
Zetta shrugged. “That ain’t important. I’m just wondering if you’d heard anything about a disease.”
