There’s evil in the woods.

Daddy buried the baby ’neath the Judas tree.

He said a prayer for her soul ’fore he lay her down. Mama called her name “Mercy,” ’cause she said, “She ain’t baptized, so pray God have mercy on her soul.” I stood at Mama’s side, tryin’ to hold her up while Daddy filled the hole with earth. After the funeral, Daddy helped Mama back to her feet, the dirt in her hands crumblin’ to the ground below.

“She wasn’t born right, Ro,” Daddy said. “It was God’s will.”

Mama and Daddy headed back to the house, but I knelt down to pray. Since Mamaw is with God, I was the only woman able to help Mama when she had the baby. She and I were in the upper room, Daddy downstairs with the young’uns. I ain’t ever heard Mama scream like that ’fore. Her face covered with sweat, blood ’tween her legs. When she delivered the baby, she heaved a heavy sigh of relief. I don’t know much ’bout babies, but I knew she wasn’t right. Her head too small, her body too big. Four ’stead of five, eight ’stead of ten. I managed to call for Daddy, who walked upstairs. He took the baby from my arms. He gave her to Mama, who tried to nurse her, but she couldn’t suckle. The baby stopped cryin’, and Daddy said, “She’s not breathin’.” He tried to help her breathe, but it was no use. Like Mamaw, she was now with God.

“Look after the young’uns, Emmeline Marie,” Daddy said, but I wasn’t able to move. He helped me to my feet, and he sent me downstairs to the young’uns — Little John, Billy, Roselle, and Cross.

“What happened, Emmy?” Little John asked.

Before I was able to answer him, we heard Mama scream, a loud, piercin’ shriek, like a rabbit makes ’fore it dies. As I prayed ’fore the graves of Mamaw and Mercy, I shivered as I remembered Mama’s scream. I finished my prayer, and I headed back to the house. I was able to see Mama through the window, swayin’ back and forth as she said her own prayers. Daddy was outside, and I stood next to him as he looked into the woods in front of our house.

“There’s evil in the woods, Emmeline Marie,” Daddy said. “Years gon’ by and by with no presence of Almighty God. The Devil’s last stampin’ ground was these woods, and he ain’t gonna give ’em up without a fight.”

“What’ll we do, Daddy?” I asked.

“As hard as he’ll fight, we’ll have to fight harder for the good of God and family,” Daddy answered. He spat his chewin’ backer on the ground, and we entered the house together.

“Baby,” Mama said to me after I entered the house. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Mama,” I responded. Although I don’t know much ’bout babies, I know it must be heartbreakin’ to lose one. I kissed Mama on her cheek, and I helped her into her and Daddy’s bedroom. She lay down on the bed, and she held me close. When Daddy approached us, she pushed me back, and she said, “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“She didn’t do nothin’,” Daddy said.

“I don’t want you anywhere near me,” Mama repeated.

As Mama and Daddy spoke to each other, I left the bedroom. The young’uns were confused, but I ’splained to them that Mama and Daddy were talkin’, and it wasn’t proper for young’uns to listen to Mamas and Daddys when they talked like that to each other. We ate supper without Mama or Daddy, and we said our prayers by ourselves ’fore we went to the upper room to go to bed. The floorboards were still stained with Mama’s blood from the delivery. As we tried to fall ’sleep, we could hear Mama and Daddy arguin’ in their bedroom.

“If I wasn’t here, we could’a had the preacher baptize her,” Mama said. “Now she’s burnin’ in Hell ’cause you wanted your own farm.”

“Rose. . . .” Daddy said ’fore Mama continued speakin’.

“Why’d’ya ever bring us out here? If we was back in the holler, my baby could still be alive!”

A lull in their argument allowed me to fall ’sleep. When I woke up the next mornin’, life on the farm had to continue like normal. Feed the horses, milk the cows, and gatherin’ eggs. The work couldn’t stop forever. While I gathered the few eggs that the hens had laid, Little John and Billy ran up to me, rantin’ and ravin’. After he calmed down, Little John told me, “Emmy, there’s somethin’ in the woods.”

“What?”

“Bones,” Billy said. “Lots of bones.”

“You was told to never go into the woods alone. What did y’all think you was doin’?”

“We was gatherin’ firewood, and Billy seen. . . .” Little John began, but I interrupted him.

“Take me.”

Little John and Billy nodded their heads, and they led me into the woods. I could smell smoke, and we eventually came upon the embers of a fire. There were bones all ’round it in a circle. They looked like cow, goat, and chicken bones, and there were more bones in a pot, which was in the center of the dyin’ fire. Was this witchcraft? I was scared, and I led Little John and Billy out of the woods, and I told them, “Don’t tell no one ’bout what we seen.” After the young’uns went to sleep that night, I was lookin’ out of the window in the upper room. I could see a plume of black smoke risin’ out of the woods toward the full moon in the night sky.

When I woke up the next mornin’, I went downstairs, and I seen Mama swayin’ back and forth as she prayed a Psalm.

“O Lord, rebuke me not in Thy indignation, nor chastise me in Thy wrath. Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak: heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled. And my soul is troubled exceedingly: but thou, O Lord, how long? Turn to me, O Lord, and deliver my soul: O save me for Thy mercy’s sake. For there is no one in death, that is mindful of Thee: and who shall confess to Thee in Hell?”

Cross came up to me, and she asked, “What’s the matter with Mama?”

What should I say? Cross was the youngest of the young’uns. How will she understand? I didn’t understand much of it myself.

“’member Mamaw? When she went away, Mama and Daddy said she was now with God. Like Mamaw, the baby ain’t with us no more.”

“Is the baby with God?”

With the Bible, Daddy learned us that you needed to be baptized to be saved and get into Heaven, but he also learned us that God is merciful. I didn’t know how to answer her.

“I don’t know.”

As I walked outside, I heard Daddy yellin’. I headed toward the chicken coop, and I seen all of the chickens outside of the coop, their insides torn out. The coop was latched ’fore I went inside last night, but Daddy said, “It must’a been a fox.” I don’t think it was a fox, and I don’t think Daddy thought so, either, ’cause he said, “It had to been a fox.”

After I finished my chores for the day, I began to head toward the house for supper, but then I heard Little John call from the barn, “The calf’s comin’!”

Daddy and I hurried to the barn, and we seen Bessie lyin’ on the hay, bellowin’ as she began to calf. It took her ’bout an hour to deliver her previous calves, so we waited as she calved. After an hour and a half with no progress, Daddy put his hand inside her, sayin’, “The calf’s comin’ backwards.” He reluctantly asked Little John and me for help in pullin’ the calf out of Bessie. She continued to bellow as we pulled the calf out of her, which took ’nother hour. The calf lay on the hay outside of its Mama. Bessie gave a bellow, and she collapsed into the hay. Daddy approached her, and he said, “She’s gone.” Daddy, Little John, and I heard a cry from the calf lyin’ beside the now dead Bessie.

As we inspected the calf, we seen that it didn’t look right. There was spots of cowhide missin’ from its body, its hoofs were both cloven into five claws, and it looked like it had teeth in its mouth. The calf continued to cry as Daddy approached it with his shotgun. Before I could leave the barn, Daddy shot the calf in the head, which splattered its blood all over me and Little John. I hurried out of the barn, and I vomited in the grass.

Daddy led Little John and me to the house, and we seen Mama readin’ the Bible at the dinner table.

“John,” Mama said as she stood up from her chair. She approached Daddy, who warshed the blood off of his hands with the water in a basin in the kitchen. “I’ve been readin’ the Scriptures, and I found somethin’. ‘Thou hast given occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, for this thing, the child that is born to thee, shall surely die.’”

“What do you mean?”

“When David and Bathsheba sinned ’gainst the Lord, they turned their backs on Him, and when we left the holler, we turned our backs on Him, too, by turnin’ our backs on the preacher. We gave occasion to the enemies of the Lord to sin. ‘For the wages of sin is death.’”

With a sigh, Daddy warshed his face, and he said, “The young’uns can’t be alone outside no more. Make sure to stick together, Emmeline Marie.” I nodded my head, and I started to cook supper as Mama went back to readin’ the Bible.

“‘The flesh lusteth against the spirit: and the spirit against the flesh; for these are contrary one to another,’” Mama read the passage ’loud. “‘Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are fornication, uncleanness, immodesty, luxury, idolatry, witchcrafts, enmities, contentions, emulations, wraths, quarrels, dissensions, sects, envies, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like. Of the which I foretell you, that they who do such things shall not obtain the kingdom of God.’”

On the followin’ day, I was about to finish my chores when I thought I heard the voice of a woman singin’. I seen Little John leadin’ Billy toward its source, entranced by the song. There was a plume of black smoke risin’ from the woods. I ran toward Little John and Billy, but I lost sight of ’em. I called for Daddy, but Mama was eavesdroppin’, and she said, “I ain’t gonna lose my babies.” Daddy told Rosie and Cross to stay in the house, and then we ran into the woods, but we couldn’t find Little John or Billy. There was works of art made from the bones of cows, goats, and chickens scattered through the woods, hangin’ from the tree branches. Flies swarmed ’round the bodies of Bessie and her calf, which was positioned like they was dancin’. Mama screamed ’cause she said she seen a goat with a human’s face in between the trees. I seen a cow and a sheep standin’ on their hind legs. When we reached the bonfire, Little John and Billy were ’bout to walk into its flames, but Daddy pulled them back. He doused the flames with a basin of water that was placed next to the fire. Mama held the boys close, huggin’ and kissin’ ’em. Little John appeared confused, and Billy asked, “Emmy, you was with us the first time. Why couldn’t we come back? You didn’t say we couldn’t come back.”

Mama looked at me, and she said, “What?”

“Mama. . . .” I began ’fore Mama slapped me in the face.

“Ro,” Daddy said. “She didn’t do nothin’.”

“Yes,” Mama said. “She did.”

Before Mama could continue speakin’, we heard a bloodcurdlin’ scream from the direction of the house. We ran toward the house, and we emerged from the woods to find Rosie and Cross crucified to the Judas tree above the graves of Mamaw and Mercy. The bark of the tree was stained with their blood, red and fresh, as it dripped onto the ground below. Mama screamed, and she ran to the imitation Crucifixes, tryin’ to unfasten the bloody nails in the hands and feet of Rosie and Cross. Daddy ran into the cloud of dirt that Mama rose up, and he pulled her back, sayin’, “They’re gone, Ro.”

With a scream, Mama collapsed onto the ground, lyin’ on top of the graves of her Mama and her baby. She was sobbin’ uncontrollably, but she pushed Daddy back when he tried to hold her close. Daddy and I was lookin’ at Mama ’fore we heard Little John and Billy scream as they disappeared into the woods. As he turned ’round, Daddy tried to help Mama to her feet, but she attacked him with the cross that he constructed for Mercy’s grave. Despite his efforts to fight her off, Mama stabbed Daddy in the belly with the cross. She stabbed him until he stopped movin’, and then she turned to look at me.

“You!” Mama screamed as she approached me, the bloodied cross in her hand drippin’ onto the ground. “I can smell the sin on you. You stink of evil!”

“Mama. . . .” I said, but she interrupted me.

“Don’t call me ‘Mama,’” she said. “I ain’t no ‘Mama’ to no witch. Your witchcraft made me lose my babies!”

She lunged at me, and she tried to stab me with the cross. We wrestled over the cross, which I was able to take from her. She continued to attack me, and I was forced to plunge the cross into her neck to save myself. Her blood poured all over me, and I screamed as I pushed her lifeless body off of me. I cried as I looked at her body, and then I noticed smoke was still billowin’ from the woods. I stood up slowly, and I walked in the direction of the bonfire. The works of art was gone. I didn’t see no cows, goats, or sheep. I didn’t see no witch. When I reached the bonfire, I seen the bodies of Daddy and Mama, Rosie and Cross positioned ’round the fire like decorations. I didn’t see no sign of Little John and Billy, but the pot was over the fire, boilin’ the flesh of an unknown animal. As I stood there, covered in Mama’s blood, I heard the footfalls of a person approachin’ the bonfire, and I began to laugh.

Daddy said, ‘There’s evil in the woods.’

And I guess we were it.

Submitted July 04, 2019 at 03:00AM by TheWelshWitch https://ift.tt/2RXHhpy