Sacrifice, Chapter 3

The moment Josiah walked into the old lady's feeding lot, she was out on her front porch, broom in hand and giving the thirsty man her dirty look.

"What are you up here for? Got some more threats or offerings? I'm not going....never! This is my land. It's been in my family since any of us could remember. Now just turn yourself around and get out of here before I trade this broom in for my 22."

"Now Mary Elizabeth, I do think you need to get into town a little more. You're going nuts with just these deer and vultures out here to keep you company. I came by to see how you were doing, and to share some of my dry land fish with you. I know it's harder for you to trudge around these woods lately."

The old woman's eyes softened momentarily.

"Josiah, did I hear you say dry land fish? Well, I guess those Yankees haven't taken a few good habits out of you yet. But just give them some time..."

"Old lady, are you going to take these here mushrooms, or do I have to carry them all with me down the mountain so I can eat 'em all myself? All I ask is a little drink of your clean spring water. Can you spare me some?"

Josiah noticed the old woman had aged more than her share in the last couple years. He remembered her when she always had a glass of sassafras tea for him and her boys Joe Kyle and Merrill. Even back then she was a real homebody. When her husband died from the bad epidemic of flu in '23 she took over his work growing a little corn, some beans, milking the goats and cows, even working on the old Ford, under the hood and outside, inflating the tires whenever it was time to go into town to Leepers Grocery.

Josiah knew that those trips were getting more and more infrequent these days. But he also knew that Mrs. Stubbs was a stubborn old bitty if there were was one. She would rather starve than ask for a morsel of cornbread from a neighbor.

So about once a week, he ambled his way up to her place and just checked on her. When she would go into the shack to get something, like a glass or water, he would leave a little cornbread, some beans or fatback on the porch swing, knowing that the old woman would soon find it, and he wouldn't worry for a few days.

As she put the tin cup of water into Josiah's hands, he noticed that her arm as swollen and old rags were wrapped around a wound. He touched it for a moment before she quickly drew away.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"Nothin. You know, Josiah that the old man never built this shack so that it was level on the ground. Just fell out of the bed again in the middle of the night. Maybe you can help me put the mattress on the floor someday, so the fall will be shorter next time."

Josiah knew that the old woman was hiding something, but he didn't have time to get too snoopy. That was her business, and he had to get going.

"I swear you have the best water around, Mrs. Stubbs. "What do you do, run it over gold in that spring house of yours?"

"You know why it's good, Josiah. I don't have to tell you why. There's none of that stupid picture-making potions in it up here like down there in Chrisburg."

"Oh, you're full of beans, old woman! Those guys done went to college, they got letters after their names. They're no dummies, and they got to drink the water, too.
But your water is still better. You could put it in those quart jars over there and take it down into the valley and make yourself a mint if you had a little more spunk."

"Money is the root of all evil, don't you know that, Josiah?" She looked into his eyes, and he knew that she was getting ready for her daily lecture on the evils of smoke stacks, drainage ditches, coal dust and railroads.

"Well, Old Woman, I've got to go feed the hogs and keep the little lady happy down the mountain. Anything I can bring ya next time I'm up this way?"

She shook her head and got up to finish her sweeping. "Nope, just keep your eyes open and your mouth shut as much as you can. Bye now! And thanks for these great dry land fish. They'll go good with my new lettuce tonight."

Josiah said his good byes and started down the trail to home. He couldn't help but envy that little old gal for her gumption and nerve to hold her ground. No money would have buy her. Not bad for the old mountain. It needed someone like her to plant her heels in it day in and day out.

As he got closer to the home place, he could hear old Sally neighing out back. It was time for her daily dose of hay before he started the milking for the night. But first he would have to dump the shrooms on the kitchen table so Ruth May could salt them down and soak out the bugs before cooking them for dinner tonight.

"I'll do better tomorrow," he whispered to himself."Maybe even 'nuf to take into Leepers for the town folks."

A good way to get a little extra to buy some home brew from Figgins on the way home.

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