Tangled Roots can be partially visualized by it's title. It's about a family who went through some extremely hard times. Both parents of small children died. They were raised by an old maid aunt, who showed much love for them, but had her favorite. She kept them in school and in church. She taught them to love and appreciate each other. They lived in a small community on a farm, which the aunt rented to another farmer, after her brother committed suicide. They had many friends who came to their aid during troubling times. This family sailed through troubled waters, and overcame their complications and mistakes. They became trouble free and enjoyed additional family members. Everyday became a picnic. They laughed, played, and prayed together. The readers of this book will become a part of it, as they gradually mingle with the characters.
Tangled Roots
By Eunice LongAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Eunice Long
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-1620-3Chapter One
Tangled Roots
Marcia was a frail and weak child, yet the obligations laid upon her forced her to be a woman of limited strength. The funeral had been over less than an hour when Marcia was put to her first test of womanhood, strength and courage. She here functioned with confidence and without hesitation as Maria came running through the kitchen door with a jar full of butterflies and screaming that she was hungry. She was also very dirty and tired. Marcia held the child's face between her hands. "Your face is like ice. Do you want some hot cocoa while I fix something to eat?" Her voice was soft but a bit trembled. She kissed Maria's cheek and then went to the stove to hide her tears. The child did not speak, but kept examining her collection of butterflies. Marcia wiped her tear-streaked face with the dish towel as she placed the steaming cup before her little sister. "It's hot darling," she warned her, kissing her again. "I'll be back in a minute; I'm going to the back room to see about Paps." She found him lying prostrate across his bed sobbing bitterly. She closed his door gently and did not disturb him. "Poor Paps", she whispered to herself. "He will about die without Mama." She began to cry again, holding the dish rag to her face to muffle her sobs. Remembering that Mrs. Baggett had given her a handkerchief at the cemetery, she now went into the front room and searched for it among sweaters that were piled on the bed. Not finding it, she looked on the floor around the bed, and then under it, but the handkerchief was not found. "I know I brought it home," she whispered to herself. "It was a real pretty handkerchief with lace and blue flowers." Finally, with a shrug of her shoulders, she went back to the kitchen where Maria still sit sipping her cocoa from a spoon. Her jar of butterflies was sitting on the table in front of her. Jo stood staring at the door until a light shown
The child was sniffling and Marcia rushed over to her. "Here," She said, using the dish rag on her sister's face now. "Please, don't cry. We will eat something in a few minutes, then you can take a nap." "I'm not crying." Maria proclaimed. "And I will not take a nap." She unscrewed the cap off her jar and inserted her chubby little fist, pulled out a white handkerchief with lace and blue flowers, and scrubbed her face with it. "See, I'm not crying." She said. Marcia observed the handkerchief and smiled. "I think you just took a little cold at the cemetery. It was very cold and windy. Maybe Papa will give you some medicine." "I will not take it." Maria shouted. "When will Mama be back home?" Marcia again turned her attention to the stove. She was frying bacon, but it was now burning. The aroma had reached the back room filling the nostrils of Sam Marshall and bringing him to his feet. He entered the smoke-filled kitchen just as a loud knock was placed on the back door. He unlocked the door and let Jo, his sister, in.
Just as he had expected and indeed hoped for, Jo was heavily burdened with a large box filled with enough food to last them for a couple of days. Jo re-opened the door to let some smoke out of the kitchen. Then turning abruptly to see what was on fire, she noticed the iron skillet of bacon charcoals. She found a lid to cover the skillet, and asked her brother to sit it on the back porch to cool. She put her arms around Marcia and held her close for a moment. "Be careful my dear." she warned her. "A grease fire can be very dangerous."
Turning now to her brother, she gave him an affectionate slap on the back. What she actually wanted to do was to take him into her arms as she had done for his small daughters, in an effort to comfort him. Being a man though, he must be treated like one less her comforting efforts should break him. "Get busy!" she said to him. "Unpack this box and let's eat." He took the bowls from the box and handed them to Marcia, who placed them on the table that she had already set. She had not set a place for herself however, for she had not intended to eat. She felt too sad, and now that Aunt Jo had arrived, let her do the work. After removing the covers from the bowls, seeing the hot peas and butterbeans with ham hocks, she changed her mind and reached for a plate for herself and Aunt Jo. The last items taken from the box were two pones of corn-bread, that were still hot enough to warm her hands. Aunt Jo poured the milk and commanded that everyone be seated while the food was still hot. Jo looked at her brother who was pale and quiet, and noticed a slight quivering of his upper lip. "Grace the table Sam," she said, not taking her eyes off him. His face fell forward as if bowing for prayer, but from his lips came not a sound. Marcia's head was bowed, but she had not closed her eyes, for she too was watching her father. She realized that he was unable to speak for the moment. "May I say grace, Aunt Jo, just this once?" Jo winked an eye at her and nodded her approval. So with every head bowed, and every eye closed, except Maria's, Marcia said her first prayer. She wanted with all her heart to say: "And God bless Mama," but at that point she did hesitate and said "Aunt Jo" instead. As her "Amen" rang loud and clear, Sam begin waiting on Maria's plate. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. For it was obvious that his youngest daughter was pouting about something. "You never let me say grace" she accused him. "You can say it next time." He promised. He attempted to reach for her hand, but he didn't. Sam served his own plate sparsely and passed the dishes containing the food on to Jo, who took for herself generous servings. Marcia, having overcome her desire to eat, had like Sam, taken very little on her plate
"Papa, when's Mama coming home?" Maria asked her father. Sam was unable to get his answer audible, so Jo answered for him. "Your Mama is not coming back." Marcia cried out: "Aunt Jo, don't tell her that; she's too little to understand." "Now you listen to me child." Jo said to Marcia. "We are never too little, or young, that is, to be told the truth. For we all know and God knows too, that your Mama will not be coming back." Sam half rose in an attempt to leave the table, but Jo took hold of his arm. "Sam, sit down. These children can never accept facts if you don't. Another fact is; they need you to help them, and you sure can't if you don't face things yourself." She hesitated then started again. "I know this doesn't seem likely the day to start, but no day will, until you do start. You must stand up Sam. Try hard not to fall short your duty to these girls." Sam did rise then and went droop-shouldered back to his and Eva's room. He stood looking out the end window thinking about what his sister had said. He knew Eva was gone forever. He didn't need Jo to tell him that. He had known since he picked his wife up from the ground in the garden, that she was gone.
It had been a rather warm day for the fall season, or maybe it was the piles of debris that he'd been burning in the lower pastures that was so warm. After the fires had burned out, he headed for the house, he recalled. It had been about lunch time anyway according to the sun's position.. After spending some thirty to forty minutes feeding the mules, he started toward the house. It was behind the barn in the pea patch that he had noticed something lying on the ground. He took a few long strides in that direction when he recognized Eva.
She had a new turnip patch coming up along side the peas, and there she lay in the middle of...
