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 Long

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Eunice Long
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-1620-3

Chapter 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 it with the cut turnips scattered all around her as well as all over her. Sam stood staring down at her, shocked beyond reasoning and looking around for a clue of some explanation. He found none. He stooped over and gathered Eva into his arms and hurried on to the house. His guess was that she had merely fainted, though she was not pregnant to his knowledge. After laying her on the bed, he wet a rag and wiped her face. When she refused to awaken, startled he ran out of the house and went for Jo who lived down the road a short distance. He thanked Heaven that Jo was so near and hoped she would know what to do. While Jo had gone on to the house to stay with Eva, Sam put a saddle on his fastest nag and took off to get Doc Reeder Doc's old car was parked in front of his house, which meant Sam had found him in. He ran into Doc's office which was nothing more than half of his front porch walled up to make a room. Doc kept medicine there on his rough wooden shelves for most any ailment. Doc looked up startled as Sam came rushing through the only entrance to his cold unheated office. "It's Eva, Doc. She's fainted and I can't seem to bring her around. She's not pregnant." Sam picked up a stick outside Doc's gate on his way out, and after settling himself in the saddle, he gave the nag a thrashing across the buttocks. "Let's go, you damn raw bone, let's go". Doc and Jo were in the room with Eva when Sam got back. They heard him come in as he pushed the latch off the back door. They both met him outside Eva's door. Doc Reeder put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do Sam. Your wife is dead." "That's a lie." Sam shouted. "She just fainted Doc, she's not dead."

Sam attempted to enter Eva's room, but Jo grabbed his hand from the door knob. "Yes, she is dead Sam. Now come into the kitchen, I have some hot coffee brewing, and Doc wants to ask you something. And I want you to be agreeable." "Sam, I want permission," Doc began, "to examine Eva's body from head to heel. This will require taking all her clothes off however, which if necessary to examine as closely as I'd like for anything that might offer us a clue. Jo can assist me, if she would like, or if you would like." Jo was standing behind Sam's chair with both of her arms around him. "You must give permission, Sam," She insisted, Sam looked at Doc and merely nodded his head in approval. Jo and Doc returned to the back room. Sam jumped to his feet screaming after them. "Wait Doc. How do you know she's dead? How can you make sure?" Again they carried him back to the kitchen.

Jo answered a faint knock on the back door and welcomed Mrs. Baggett. "I came as soon as Doc's wife told me. We're neighbors, you know." Noticing Sam who now had his upper body sprawled across the table, and Jo, who at the moment, had not ceased to cry. Mrs. Baggett turned to Doc. "Is there anything that I can do?" Doc hesitated a moment and then said, "Yes, come with me. Jo joined her brother in his grief while Mrs. Baggett assisted Doc. The thirty minutes they waited, seemed to be hours. As Doc re-entered the kitchen, Sam made no attempt to lift his head. Jo turned to Doc. "Did you find anything?" Doc hesitated a moment observing Sam. "Yes." He replied. Doc sit down while Mrs. Baggett poured him a cup of strong coffee. "Sam." Doc gently called. Sam lifted his head and looked toward Doc with eyes that were too full to see him. "Your wife was bitten by a rattle snake. Since this area is working alive with them, I'm sure it was a rattler." "Where?" Sam managed to inquire. "Right between the breast. There are signs that she was bitten twice by the snake. She might have, at that point, had a heart attack." Sam again, let his head fall heavy across his folded arms.

Pastor George came and talked with Sam. "Sam, we need to plan the funeral arrangements." Sam snapped back, "There is not going to be one." The pastor mused for a moment, then responded. "Sam, we have to have a funeral. As sad as it is, it brings a closure for the family. It's the best way to let go. Your family and friends will be expecting a funeral." The pastor bowed his head. Sam bowed his head. Silence engulfed the room for a while. Finally, Sam lifted his head and spoke softly. "There will be no funeral. I don't want to go through that. Just burry Eva, and be done with it. Me and the girls cannot be involved in that. So. We will not talk about this again. Understand?" Pastor George gently rose to his feet, patted Sam on the shoulder, rubbed his hands across Sam's head, and quietly left the room.

Pastor George spoke with Jo on his way out. Jo was in a rage over Sam's decision, but she knew not to approach him. He was too crushed and angry. Jo knew she didn't need a fight today. Jo asked the pastor to oversee the arrangements. Pastor George made all the decisions with the funeral home based on Sam's wishes.

Sam was not aware of the knock on the door as the community women began dropping by bringing food for the family, and gifts for the children. Marcia came home from school and Maria had been awakened from her nap. Jo took both the girls out under the pecan trees to tell them about their Mama. Sam had found them there and took both of his weeping daughters into his arms. He had then walked out to the garden and looked the area over well. Jo and the girls followed him and helped in the search. They found nothing. Jo carried Maria on her back to the house. Sam walked with his arms around his oldest daughter who was now ten years old. He was concerned about his six year old, and he thanked God for Jo. Once he entered the house, he went straight to his room and closed the door behind him.

Suddenly, Sam turned from the window and came out of the room to re-join his family in the kitchen. He found Jo talking very motherly to his daughters. He stood quietly for a moment as he listened to Jo taking to the girls. "God gives and God takes." Jo was explaining. "We don't know why, but we don't try to figure it out ourselves. We just know God has a plan. We also know the Lord loves us and will furnish our needs. You may not think so now, but you just wait and see for yourself. Anyway, heaven would be a lonely place if God never called an angel up there, and we know your Mama will glorify heaven. She will never feel another pain and God will make her happy forever. It's us who are here on earth that does all the suffering, not them that's in heaven. You know something else; your Mama won't ever again have to go out in the cold again to milk a kicking old cow. Isn't that wonderful?" Maria giggled. "Now you'll have to do it." She teased. Marcia smiled. "I love you very much, Aunt Jo," she said warmly, putting her arm about her aunt's shoulder. Sam cleared his throat, and Jo saw him standing tall and straight in front of her. He too was smiling. Jo thanked God.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Tangled Rootsby Eunice Long Copyright © 2009 by Eunice Long. Excerpted by permission.
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