Elegy at a Hillside Cemetery

FICTION Elegy at a Hillside Cemetery___________ Betty Lee Hailey ABIGAIL THREW A HANDFUL OF DIRT INTO THE GRAVE as her lips moved in silent prayer. Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to live beyond Clinton, that I might have a few years of peace. He was her only brother, the delight of her childhood, the companion of her many escapades, but the scourge of her later years. "Come, Aunt Abigail, and sit awhile. This has been a hard thing to bear at your age. He was my daddy and mama, after she died, a real saint who guided me in the righteous ways." Her niece, Marilee, would take off on a sermon any minute now, so Abigail hurried along to the house ahead of her. If they could just feed those mourners with the mountains of food brought by neighbors and parishioners, she could sway and pretend exhaustion. They would take her home then. She was eighty-four and had outlived Emily, Olive and Clinton. She missed her sisters with the intense longing for another life many years ago. Emily had taken her in through the years when living with her nogood , abusive husband and shiftless sons became a real burden. She giggled involuntarily as she remembered Olive defending her from Clinton's frequent condemnations. "She was a firecracker of a girl and went after him when he came around preaching at us about almost anything. He sure didn't approve of much." What had happened to that grand boy who had climbed trees with her and jeered at Emily and Olive for being "scairdy cats" about swinging out over the pond and landing in a big, foamy splash or picking berries in the wild patches on the hill for fear of snakes? He had been such fun even when he started drinking and getting into trouble. "Come on, Abigail, take a sip of this bourbon and warm yourself in the nectar of the Gods," he would say with those blue eyes full of the devil and the smile that melted hearts. She never had taken up drink, of course, but did so wish she had been there when he wore an orange shirt in the Irishbar on St. Patrick's Day. That must have been quite a sight, all those boys brawling and pounding one another trying to get to Clinton. He enjoyed a real thrashing that day. "Marilee, could you please take me home? I'm plain tuckered out and need to rest." 33 "Oh, AuntAbigail, you'll miss the prayer meeting we're having for Daddy if you leave now. He was a saint, you know. I'll be going back to Brazil day after tomorrowbecause the Mission needs me and I won't have time for a good spiritual visit with you." "I am tired and must go, Marilee. Maybe next time." God, Tm leaving just in time. That crazy girl of Clinton's is as bad as he was, begging money from all of her cousins for that Mission of hers. She says she is "savin"' people, but those poor folks already have a church and she can't abide that it isn't hers. Why did Clinton have to come by when I was staying with Emily to tell me how sinful it was to leave my wedded husband and boys? Emily never could get a word in edgewise with him, but Olive would drive him away. "You get on that horse and go back to that crazy church of yours, Clinton Simpson. Your sister is in need of rest, and that moonshinin' husband and those lazy boys can manage alone. Worry about your own sins, and leave us alone. You were a joy to be around until you started preaching at us." 34 Abigail smiled as she remembered fiery Olive. Lord a mercy, it would be good to set on the porch and swing gentlywhile she thought on the good times they had as children. Here it was 1940, and they were all gone from this earth. The farm in the Canaan Valley had been rich and yielded most of what the family needed. Papa would sell a hog for lard, flour and...