Black Cat Weekly #5

THE PASSING OF BIG MAMA MAYHALL, by Bobbi A. Chukran-1

THE PASSING OF BIG MAMA MAYHALL,

by Bobbi A. Chukran

Central Texas, 1946

“Elsie, honey. I’m sorry… Big Mama has done gone and passed.” Ruby Sutton wiped a tear from her eye.

Elsie Mayhall stood still as a stone. “What?”

“I said I’m so sorry, honey. She’s gone. Your mama’s gone.”

Elsie sat down. “What happened?”

“I guess her old heart finally just gave up and give out.”

Elsie stared at her Aunt Ruby, who had been at the house for two days now, tending to her older sister.

Ruby always called Elsie’s mother “Big Mama” instead of her given name, Esther, since she was the oldest of a dozen children.

Unlike her older sister, Ruby Sutton was a bone-thin, pleasant woman in her middle-fifties. Her greying hair was worn pinned back into a messy bun and a few hairpins were trying to escape. She wore an old faded cotton dress and her bright blue eyes looked tired and sad.

“You sit right there; I’ll call the doctor and get him back over here.”

* * * *

The way it happened, Elsie Mayhall had come in three nights past from tending her little garden out back of the old whitewashed clapboard shed. Nothing much was growing there since it was so shady, but it soothed Elsie to walk among the short rows of larkspur and hollyhocks. It was the only space her mama would give over to unnecessary things like flowers. You can’t eat them, she reminded Elsie every chance she got. Big Mama was more interested in her Victory garden where she grew “useful” things like corn and squash.

Elsie had walked into the kitchen to find her mother sprawled out on the floor, hands thrown over her head like she was reaching for something. There was a little stepstool overturned by the sink. She decided her mama had been trying to reach something up in one of the tall cabinets, had lost her balance and fell.

The last words she heard her mother murmur before she lapsed into unconsciousness were “I called but I couldn’t reach them.”

She knew her aunt and uncle were frequently outside tending the farm and garden and generally ignored the telephone unless they were expecting a call.

The first thing Elsie did after finding Big Mama sprawled out on the kitchen floor was carefully turn the stool upright and put it back into the corner, out of the way. Her mama always demanded that she keep the kitchen tidy. There was hell to pay if she didn’t. Then Elsie called her aunt.

Aunt Ruby lived about ten miles down the road. Sure enough, she had been out tending her garden but had just stepped inside to get a cool glass of water at the time Elsie called. She bustled in to Elsie’s house wearing an old jacket over a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of men’s overalls with grass-stained knees.

Things after that were a blur to Elsie. She knew the doctor had come, said that her mother’s heart was very weak and that she needed lots of rest and quiet. There wasn’t anything else they could do for her but wait, he’d said.

He left more nerve pills for Elsie, to help calm her. “Make sure you take these, three times a day,” he’d said, giving her a pat on her hand. “They’re a bit stronger than what you normally take, but you shouldn’t have any problems,” he said.

“What about mama’s heart pills?” she’d asked. “Should I give her one?”

He shook his head. “They won’t help her now. If she’d been able to take one when she had her spell, things might be different. I’m sorry, Elsie, but you should prepare yourself. Just try to keep her comfortable.”

The doctor’s words were just a buzz in Elsie’s ears. She slowly nodded and he turned to leave.

* * * *

“I just about expected something like this to happen,” Aunt Ruby said, “as sickly as your mama has been.”

They watched as the doctor climbed back into his car and soon afterwards an ambulance came to collect Big Mama’s body. Elsie sat in the living room until the men had carefully placed her mother’s body in the back of the big car, then she came to stand beside Ruby on the front porch. They watched as it turned left out of the driveway and slowly drove down the road towards town.

“Come on back inside, honey. I’ll make you a cup of coffee. News like this never comes easy, does it?” Elsie’s hands shook as she followed her aunt into the kitchen. Her aunt figured Elsie was in shock, or near to it.

She pulled up a kitchen chair and Elsie sunk down into it. Her face was flour-paste white, and her breath was shallow and ragged.

“Her bein’ so sick and all, for so long. Had heart trouble for years, even when we were kids.”

“She seemed to be doin’ better,” Elsie whispered. “Especially after she got that new medicine.”

Aunt Ruby nodded. “Yes, I know, honey. It’s always a shock when they pass, even if you sort of expect it.” Ruby put a cup of coffee in front of Elsie.

She took a sip, then pushed it away. “I feel sick.”

“Why don’t you go lay down for a while? You aren’t lookin’ too good right now.”

“I think I will,” Elsie mumbled, and looked at her aunt. “How will I live without her?” Finally, tears poured out of her eyes and she sobbed.

Elsie’s aunt embraced her and soothed her the best she could. “Maybe you should take one of those nerve pills the doctor left,” Ruby suggested. “They’re stronger than your normal pills.”

“I’m so bad with pills, I never know when to take what,” Elsie admitted.

“Well, don’t you worry. I’ll lay them out for you, right by your bed, with a glass of water. You take one if you need it, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she mumbled, then trudged upstairs to the tiny corner of her attic bedroom where she’d spent the last twenty-five-years of her life. She lay down on the narrow bed and stared at the ceiling where water stains made a pattern like a crooked little heart.

She needed some time to herself. Some time to think. Elsie got up, undressed, changed into her nightgown and sat on the edge of the bed for several hours, listening to the sounds of Aunt Ruby puttering downstairs until finally she heard the front door slam. What was she to do now?

She heard the buzz of the cicadas in the chinaberry tree and as it got darker, the sawing of the cricket’s legs. Finally, she reached up and turned her lamp off and lay down, pulling the old wedding ring quilt over her. She felt the fabrics under her fingers—the wool from one of her father’s old suits, the piece of voile from a discarded baby dress and a piece of silk from some long ago wedding dress. The quilt comforted her and she finally fell asleep and dreamed of flowers waltzing in the sunlight.

A few hours later, her aunt climbed up the stairs to check on her. Elsie awoke for a few short seconds and murmured, “How will I live without my mama?”

Her aunt shook her head. “ How will any of us get by without her? My sister wasn’t the easiest person to live with, and we both know at times she was a living terror, but we all loved her, in our own way.” She wiped a tear away from her cheek and sniffed. She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and blew her nose. “It’ll be time to start making some arrangements soon.”

Elsie blanched. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay for all this. We don’t have much money.”

“Now why would you say something like that? You don’t have to worry about that—your mama has quite a bit of money set aside for her funeral. She told me so, many times. And there’s plenty besides that to take care of you, too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s been paying on a funeral policy for years.”

Elsie thought about her faded cotton dress that she carefully mended, starched and ironed so it would look new. Mama said they didn’t have money to spend on things like clothes. Since her daddy died a few years back, mama had been especially tight with money. Well, at least that was one thing she didn’t have to worry about.

“Now, you need some sleep, honey. The next few days are goin’ to be hard enough to get through.” Her aunt pulled the threadbare patchwork quilt up around Elsie’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. She pulled the creaky old rocking chair from the corner and sat, watching over Elsie until she fell asleep. Then she slowly climbed down the rickety stairs. She had a lot of telephone calls to make.

* * * *

The next morning, Elsie was awakened by the sound of murmuring voices downstairs, the clattering of dishes in the kitchen and the screen door slamming. She peered out of the cracked, dirty window and saw three cars out front, parked on the grass and the hard-packed dirt driveway alongside the house. There were people coming and going, carrying in trays and bowls and platters. From her tiny window, she could see a line of scruffy-headed boys sitting on the hood of one of the cars, their bare feet dangling off the side.

One of them looked up, saw her and waved. She quickly pulled the flour sack curtains closed and took a deep breath. She quickly dressed and pulled on a faded cotton housedress, ran a comb through her hair and tied it back. She took another deep breath and went downstairs.

Elsie stood at the bottom for a few moments, watching the crowd. She only recognized a few of the people.

She smelled coffee coming from the kitchen and knew without asking that somebody had come into her mama’s kitchen and commenced to cook. Mama won’t like that at all, Elsie thought. And then she remembered.

All day long, people came and went, and the small kitchen table was soon groaning with casseroles, pies and every sort of home-canned goods imaginable. Elsie wondered if the people were just bringing food for a few days, or so she wouldn’t starve in the next couple of months. She wondered where she’d put it all.

A crowd had gathered in the small living room. The air was stifling and Elsie knew that before the funeral was over, even more would gather at their tiny house. The thought made her slightly ill.

“Well, there she is! Look what the cat dragged in! How ya doin’, darlin? Come here and hug my neck. Give your Uncle Albert some sugar.” Albert Sutton was Ruby’s husband and was a big man who farmed cotton. He was dressed in his everyday overalls, but had put on a clean pair with a red shirt underneath.

Elsie went over and hugged him. “I’m doing all right, I guess.” He smelled manly, like tobacco and the earth, which was always comforting to her. He and Aunt Ruby made a wonderful pair--he smelled of pipe, and she always smelled of vanilla.

A young blonde woman came rushing up to Elsie and snatched her into a fierce hug. “You come on over here and let me take a look at you. I don’t think I’ve seen you since your daddy passed away. When was that?” Elsie couldn’t remember the woman’s name, but knew she was some sort of cousin or other.

“Back in ’43,” Elsie murmured. “Daddy died in 1943.”

The woman stared at Elsie. “It’s been three years already? Oh my. Well, that’s too long for kin to go without seeing each other! Why is it we always make time for visiting when there’s things like funerals, but never otherwise? It’s a cryin’ shame, that’s what it is.”

Her perfume made Elsie sick to her stomach. She held her breath and was getting a bit light-headed when the woman finally let her go.

The woman went on, “I want you to know, we drove all night from Little Rock to get here! As soon as we got the call from your Aunt Ruby, we jumped up, got dressed and packed in a whirlwind! We drove ALL night! We are just plumb worn out, but felt it’s our duty to be here. I have to say, I am sure glad to be back in Texas, though--even if it is for Big Mama’s funeral.”

“That’s right,” somebody else said. “Our duty. We wouldn’t be any place else right now.”

“So sorry to hear about Big Mama, Elsie,” cousin Gertrude said. “We came as soon as we heard. I have to say I am ALL give out from that drive with those kids. We got four now, didn’t you know?”