The Path Was Steep Read Online Free PDF Page B

hall, or lay on an old quilt while the children played, or took a nap.
    Papa looked up from his Bible one day. “Sue, this will pass. You have to stay here until David can send for you. Why not make the best of it?”
    “Papa—” A long look passed between us. “I will try.” He returned to his Bible reading. My eyes dropped to his hands: long, thin, muscled, aging, the very veins showing his mortality. A lump came into my throat, and my eyes dropped to my own small, white hands. Every finger and joint was shaped exactly like his. I had Mama’s big, dark eyes, but I realized suddenly that perhaps every wrinkle in my brain came from Papa—he understood me so well.
    There was actually a great deal to enjoy. Mosley aunts, uncles, and cousins lived on nearby farms. My sister Maurine and her husband, Ezra Armour, owned a country store at Haig, six miles away. With five children, Maurine needed help, so our youngest sister, Lucile, had moved in to sew, sweep, clean house, and take a chief part in all the events of the community.
    Our brother Clarence had been working in Tampa when the Depression hit, and he returned home. With a limp from polio and a hand that wouldn’t always obey him, Clarence was lucky that Ezra found work for him in the store. A large group of young people were in the area, and they had hilarious times together. Pat Buttram was one of this group. Later, Pat became known as “the boy from Winston County” on national radio. Still later, as a famous movie star, he provided the humor in Gene Autry movies.
    The children enjoyed every minute on the farm. There were downy chickens just hatched, a hen bringing in a new brood every few days. There were kittens, dogs, flowers blooming, and gardens. Fruit would soon ripen. I became happy by day in the peace of summer on a farm, only at night letting my tears wet my pillow.
    Davene learned to walk, the others cheering her on. Sharon, her blue eyes filled with love, seemed to think that she had done something wonderful the first time Davene walked the length of the hallway.
    Miss Mildred’s check came, and Papa asked if I’d like to go to Birmingham with him to buy a month’s groceries: half a barrel of flour, 160 pounds of sugar, and coffee, soap, soda, etc. Our brief shopping ended, we drove out to see Thelma and George.
    Sharon and Jean ran out to play, but soon came in crying. Jane Grant, carrying her small black dog, was with them. He had bitten Jean’s leg and Sharon’s hand.
    “He is old,” Jane explained. “He doesn’t like children.”
    “Is he sick?” I asked. We knew little of rabies then.
    “Just bad-tempered.” Jane cuddled the dog, put her cheek against his silky coat. He whined and hid his face against her arm. My small fear died.
    Back at Papa’s, we sank into the same routine. Day after day I trudged to the mailbox and returned with no mail from David.
    Lucile invited me to the movies. She and John Suddeth, one of her current boyfriends, would be glad to have me along. Miss Mildred, happy that someone had a chance at some fun, offered to keep the girls.
    I didn’t have as much fun as I’d hoped. I felt guilty and uneasy. Was David having fun? Did the girls miss me? When we reached home, a car was parked at the front. I said my hurried thanks and went inside. Thelma and George were there. “Lucile would have waited . . .” I began, but Thelma burst into sobs. “Oh, Sue!” she wept.
    George put his arm around me.
    “Now, now, don’t scare her,” Papa said.
    An avalanche of ice crashed about me, putting fear in my chest, numbing my hands and feet. “David’s been killed!” I thought it would be a scream, but it was only a dry whisper.
    “No, not that bad.” Thelma kissed me, and her tears wet my cheek.
    I leaned against the doorframe, and my eyes focused on Jane Grant. The avalanche of fear took another direction, and the ice still crushed me.
    “Sue—” Jane began to sob. “Our dog had rabies—two children—two