Chapter 1The Mother We Lost and Found

My grandma was dead set on having a grandson, so she started forcing Momma to eat this special stew. Said it was some old mountain recipe guaranteed to work. But right around then, little boys started disappearing from the next county over. Finally, Momma got pregnant, but then… then she died out in the pigsty. I thought that was the end of it. But one morning, clear as day, there she was again, standing right in front of me like nothing ever happened.

* * *

After I was born, Momma never could seem to get pregnant again. Grandma Hazel never gave her a moment's peace. If she wasn't muttering under her breath for Momma to just drop dead, she was beating her so bad Momma couldn't get out of bed for days.

"Other folks' wives pop out babies one after another," Grandma'd spit, her voice like gravel. "But you? Nothing stirring' in that belly. A hen that won't lay ain't worth its feed. Might as well be dead."

Momma would just keep stirring the pot on the stove, her face blank. She'd heard it all too many times over the years.

I'd be tending the fire, trying to make myself small say a word. 'Cause I was a girl. A "mouth to feed with no return," Grandma always said. My being born was the reason Momma couldn't hold her head up in this house.

A few days later, Grandma came back acting all pleased with herself, carrying a big pot of steaming stew. Said it was a special recipe from Miss Ida, the old woman down the hollow who knew things. Said this stew would guarantee a boy, and Momma had to eat every last drop. Right then and there.

Momma never had much of an appetite, skinny as a rail she was. Just looking at that brimming pot made her face go pale. It was thick and dark, with bits floating in it I couldn’t quite make out. Didn't look good at all.

"Don't you be difficult now," Grandma Hazel snapped. "Cost me a pretty penny, this brew from Miss Ida. You will eat it all! Not one bite left!"

Grandma grabbed a big ladleful and shoved it towards Momma's mouth. I looked at the stew again. It had a strange, greasy sheen to it, and a smell I didn't like. Kind of coppery. It made my stomach churn just looking at it.

Momma tried, she really did, but she couldn't keep it down. She started gagging, then throwing up.

Grandma saw it and went red in the face. She grabbed Momma by the hair, forcing her head down. "You pick that up and eat it! Ungrateful!"

Momma refused, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. That just earned her a thrashing from Grandma right there on the kitchen floor.

In the end, Momma ate the whole pot, choking it down between sobs.

And that's how it went. Every day, Momma had to eat a whole pot of that awful stew. For a while, things seemed calmer in the house, at least.

But then word got around about those missing boys from over in Miller's Creek. When Grandma Hazel heard, her eyes just flickered for a second. "Gone is gone," she muttered. "Folks can always make another one, can't they?"