Chapter 4The Mother We Lost and Found

That night, I was half-asleep when I heard noises from the kitchen. Sounded like Momma moving around.

I didn't think much of it. Figured she was hungry, looking for something to eat. I just rolled over and went back to sleep.

Next morning, I got up early, like always, to fix breakfast and feed the hogs.

I mixed up the slop bucket and carried it out towards the sties. When I got close, I saw her. Momma. Lying on the muddy ground in the empty sty. Her stomach was cut wide open. Her insides… they were spilled out all over the dirt. Blood was everywhere. In one hand, she still clutched that dirty kitchen knife. In the other, the raggedy baby doll. Just lying there, staring up at the gray sky.

I dropped the slop bucket. I ran towards her, screaming for Grandma, for Dad, screaming for them to wake up.

I pushed away one of the hogs from the next pen that was snuffling at… at Momma’s insides through the fence. I knelt beside her in the mud. I didn’t know what to do. My hands hovered over her. I wanted to push everything back inside, cover the awful gash, pull her out of the filth, but I was too scared to touch her.

I was terrified. I just broke down, sobbing, crying out, "Somebody help Momma! Please, somebody help!"

"What's all the racket out here? It's barely daylight! Breakfast ready yet?"

Grandma Hazel came shuffling out, pulling her robe around her shoulders, heading towards the pigsties.

When she saw the scene, she stopped dead. Then she turned right around and ran out the front gate, fast as her old legs could carry her.

A little while later, she came back, dragging Miss Ida behind her.

I was still sitting there next to Momma, all cried out, just numb. Grandma didn't even look at me as she came through the gate, already muttering curses.

"Good riddance," she spat. "Couldn't even die somewhere else. Had to do it right here in the pigsty, where we keep our money-makers. Bad luck, that’s what it is. Just plain bad luck."

Miss Ida didn't say anything. She just walked up to the edge of the sty, peered in for a second, then turned and headed towards the house, into the living room. I was scared they were plotting something else horrible, so I scrambled up and followed them.

"She's dead," Miss Ida said flatly. "Killed herself. Gotta get her buried. Quick."

"So where d'you reckon is best, Miss Ida?" Grandma asked, suddenly all sweet and polite, pushing the jar of Momma's wildflower honey into Miss Ida’s hands. Our only jar.

I stared at that honey. Momma had gone up the mountain herself to gather the nectar for it, just for me. I was the least favorite in the house, always eating leftovers after they were done. Momma worried I'd waste away, so she got me that honey. It was the only thing she’d ever really been able to give me.

I wanted to snatch it back. I started to move, but Grandma shoved me hard. I fell onto the floorboards. "Get away, you little brat," she hissed, glaring down at me. "You think you deserve something nice? Get outta here."

I just sat there, hurting, staring up at them with pure hate, but I couldn't do anything.

"Tonight," Miss Ida said, tucking the honey into her bag. "You and your son take the body up the back hill. Bury her there. Good spot, that land. Your boy marries again, he'll get a son first try, guaranteed."

Miss Ida turned to leave. As she passed me, she paused, looking me up and down.

"My, my," she said, a strange look in her eyes. "This little granddaughter of yours… she's turnin' into quite a pretty little thing."