# The Shorn Lamb/Chapter 15
### Chapter 15 A FEARSOME STORY

Rebecca had forgotten all her woes by now. Aunt Pearly Gates beamed happily on the happy little girl.
"What did you make out to think er ol' Aunt Peachy, honey?"
"Why, I can't make up my mind that she is a real person. She looks so like a queer old baboon Daddy and I used to see at the zoo. Just as I never could decide that the old baboon was not a person, so I can't quite believe Aunt Peachy is one. She mumbles the strangest things while I am there and keeps looking at me with her eyes shining like a rat's. Her eyes are not a bit like a baboon's. All monkey people have sad, soft eyes. No matter how mischievous they are, they always have a kind of mournful expression as though they had been kind of cheated in not having souls."
"You say she keeps a mumblin' things while you is aroun'?" asked Aunt Pearly Gates, a troubled expression on her kind old face.
"Yes, and one time she had a piece of putty ​in her hands and she kept rolling it around and working at it kind of like the sculptors I used to know in New York do when they are modeling something."
"You mean a makin' a graben image?"
"Perhaps!"
"Well, Gawd help us, then!" Great tears rolled down the wrinkled cheeks of the old woman.
"Why, Aunt Pearly Gates, what on earth is the matter?"
"Nothin', chil', nothin' 'tall. I's jes' a ol' Afgan fool when all is tol'. I tries ter be a Christian ooman an' a true believer an' mos' the time I feels the love er the Almighty an' his blessed Son enfoldin' me. I says ober ter myse'f: 'He what dwelleth in the secret places er the Mos' High shall abide under the shadow er the Almighty.' An' then that part what somehow kinder seems lak it wa' writ 'special fer me: 'He shall cover thee with His feathers an' under His wings shalt thou trus'.' I reckon I takes on when I hears 'bout Aunt Peachy 'cause I wa' brung up ter be scairt er her. She been a weavin' her spells in this county fer mo'n a hun'erd years. My mammy befo' me wa' scairt er her an' my gran'mammy befo' her, though Aunt Peachy wa'n't mo'n a lil' black slip er a ​gal 'way back in my gran'mammy's time."
"What kind of spells does she weave?' asked Rebecca, incredulously.
"Nobody don't know perzactly. She air kinder secret 'bout it an' kinder boastful. Sometimes she make out they ain't nothin' 'tall in it an' then agin she kinder give out in a sly backhanded way that she done some debblement that they ain't no undoin'. When I got took so bad twenty year ago she comed here ter my cabin an' sot up yonder an' larfed at me an' made me think she done cas' a spell over my limbs what made 'em give out on me. In my Christian heart I know'd she wa' a lyin', but in my nigger heart I couldn't help kinder b'lievin' of her.
"The doctor done said mo'n likely I'll be up an' aroun' agin, but Aunt Peachy done put her ban on that an' 'lowed I'm laid low to the end o' time. Brer Johnson 'ten' lak he ain't scairt er her, but th'ain't ary nigger in these parts what ain't kinder squeamy er Aunt Peachy."
"Are the white people afraid of her, too?"
"Some er the low-down whites is, but my folks ain't never made no min' over her. I reckon ol' Rolfe Bollin' air scairt er her. I don't reckon his wife air scairt er her 'ceptin' the way she mought be scairt er a rattlesnake. I ain't never been no han' fer a visitin' over the ​ribber eben when I had the use er my limbs. I done been ter some funerals over there, an' that's about all, but I done hearn tell that Aunt Peachy air got a chist full er begalia what she casts her spells with."
"Begalia?"
"Yes, honey chil', all kin's er things lak they have in sassieties, 'cept'n' instid er badges an' ribbins an' sich she has things made out'n feathers an' bones an' ol' ha'r. They do say she air got a old dried-up han' what she waves aroun' an' if 'n she ever gits close enough ter touch you with it she an' the debble air got you in they power."
"How funny!" laughed Rebecca. "I don't see how you can believe such foolishness, Aunt Pearly Gates."
"I don't neither, honey chil', but they is a feelin' way down in me that spite er prayer an' 'zortin', I air under the spell er Aunt Peachy. I ain't never let her know it an' I reckon she's a thinkin' I'm too good a Christian to bother my haid about her.
"I 'member when I wa' a gal 'bout fifteen, one hot night 'bout the middle er summer when the wheat crap wa' in an' the late taters planted an' the 'backer wa'n't big enough ter s'po't no worms an' wuck done slack up a bit on the ​slaves on both sides er the ribber, an' somehow a res'less feelin' done got a holt er folks, what with the heat an' a big moon that didn't let you git no res' at night 'cause it wa' mos' as bright as the sun an' pretty nigh as hot.
"That's wa' in ol' Marse Thomas' time, the paw er Marse Bob. Now Marse Thomas wa' as good a marster as they wa' in Virginny, but he wa' moughty 'ticular 'bout one thing; he didn' let his niggers holt no meetin's without'n they wa' helt in the chu'ch what wa' built fer the pu'pose, an' he didn' 'low none er us ter go traipsin' orer the ribber, 'cept'n' it wa' on business er his'n.
"In harvest time in them days the Bollings an' Taylors useter help one another out by lendin' hands back an' fo'th, but it ain't never been much satisfaction in it. Looks lak they wa' allus some kinder row 'bout somethin' arfter harvest, even in them days when the families wa' kinder frien'ly. The niggers didn't mix very well, owin' ter ol' Aunt Peachy an' her outlandsh ways. She wa' a turrible lookin' pusson, even then, an' she done got holt er blacks an' whites over ter The Hedges an' ben' 'em all ter her ways. Rolfe Bolling's paw wa' one er these will-an'-they-won't pussons what had about as much git-up-an'-git about him as a ol' pump ​what air los' its sucker an' Aunt Peachy didn't make no mo' min' ter him than she would er ter a flea."
The old woman paused a moment to pick up a stitch in her knitting.
"There, now, I done drap a stitch! That's 'cause I air doin' wrong a-talkin' 'bout ol' Aunt Peachy an' her Mumbo Jumbo a carryin' on."
"But, Aunt Pearly Gates, please don't stop. It was a dark night—no, I forgot, the moon was shining so bright it was almost as hot as the sun. Usually when people tell about something scary it's a dark night. Please tell me! What happened on that hot night?"
"My mammy wa' a youngish ooman then an' I wa' a gal o' fifteen. My pappy wa' a pow'f ul rovin' man, mo'n half Injun. There wa'n't nothin' goin' on in the woods my pappy didn't know about. He wa' all time gittin' up in the night an' cropin' out'n the cabin. Mammy wa' moughty jealous er pappy, though I don' think she had no reason ter be. In the fus' place Marse Thomas didn' stan' fer no carryin's on in the quarters an' if'n they wa' any a goin' on they wa' allus some tell-tale-tit ter be infawmin' 'bout it. I jes' think the Injun useter be too strong in him sometimes an' he'd be fo'ced ter answer the call."
​"Was that the way it was on that hot moonlight night?" asked Rebecca, who was afraid Aunt Pearly Gates might switch off from her story into a dissertation concerning heredity.
"P'raps! Anyhow, I woke up from a doze an' pappy wa' gone an' mammy wa' a standin' up in the middle er the flo' in her yaller cotton shift an' I could see her plain as day, the moon wa' that bright. She didn't look lak mammy, somehow, 'cause her eyes wa' a rollin' lak a res'less young filly's. She wa' a listenin' ter somethin' an' I never said nothin', but listened, too. Away off yonder you could hear a kinder hollow boom! boom!"
"Like soldiers marching?"
"No! Not like soldiers—not lak anything I ever done hearn befo' er sence. There wa' the boom an' a kinder hum a' keepin' up with it, jes' lak bumbly bees. Mammy kinder snorted an' 'thout payin' no 'tention ter her chilluns she jes' bulged out'n the do' an' made fer the woods. I jumps up an' starts arfter her. I ain't got no notion wha' she a goin', but I 'lowed I wa'n't a gonter stay in that cabin wif nothin' but sleepin' chilluns an' the air all full er that gashly boomin'.
"Outside you could hear the boomin' plainer an' the hummin' got louder an' louder. In them days the woods wa' thick 'roun' here. Great ​big oaks an' chestnuts wa' crowded clost an' no room for these here scrubby fiel' pines what air a takin' the country nowadays. The trees grew clost ter the river's aidge an' spread up over the hills plum ter the mountings. That there hub fact'ry ain't got in so much er its wuck a destroyin' of forests in those days, though it wa' a goin' even then—"
"And on that hot moonlight night—" suggested Rebecca.
"I ain't fergittin'. On that hot night when mammy done flew the coop in her yaller shift I started right arfter her—she a cropin' through the woods an' me a slidin' not so fur behind. At the fust beginning I wa' a thinkin' mammy wa' out a huntin' pappy, lak she done sometimes, but it come ter me that she' wa'n't a huntin' him nor no man, but wa' a makin' fer the boom-a-laddy-boom what got louder an' closeter. She made straight fer the river, where a great big oak tree had done felled acrost the water, makin' what we calls a coon bridge. On beyant this tree wa' a clearin' with only a few stragglin' trees. One er them trees wa' hollow, owin' ter some hunters havin' started a fire down at the bottom mos' lakly trying ter smoke out a coon or p'raps a possum. It stood in the clearin' dead and ga'nt an' black. Aunt Peachy ​an' some er her men folks had done tacked a ol' horse hide oyer that there hollow in the tree an' when I crope up behind mammy I seen what wa' a makin' the boom. There wa' a great big black man, what belonged ter the Macons, who lived over pretty nigh ter the mountings, a beatin' on that ol' horse hide, same as a drum. They wa' a crowd er black folks from plantations all aroun' hereabouts, 'bout fifty I reckon all tol', an' others wa' comin' a cropin' through the underbrush same as mammy an' me.
"Mos' the women wa' in they yaller cotton shifts same as mammy an' the men had on they shirts, some er em', an' some jes' ol' pants what they had pulled on. Aunt Peachy wa' standin' on a big rock. You kin see that rock ter this day in the midst er that parsture down on the other side the ribber. If you could er seed her that night you could git some idea how come I's got a kinder awesome feelin' fer that ol' nigger. In them days she wa' big. You couldn't never believe it when you sees her now all dried up an' pretty nigh ready ter blow away, but Aunt Peachy wa' a hefty ooman an' as straight as a pine tree. I ain't never in all these years been able ter git her image out'n my min'.
"If there is sech a thing as a she-debble Aunt Peachy am her. She had done unwropped her ​plaits an' her ha'r wa' a standing out from her haid lak a bush an' she didn't have on a rag er clothes savin' beads an' she had string on string er them, made out'n all kinds er things. Some er them wa' made out er buttons an' bones, ol' teeth an' the lak. She had on shiny bracelets on her arms an' laigs made out'n brass an' tin. She wa' that outlandish looking she'd a skeert the Angel Gabrul. She skeert me an' still I couldn't run, but I crope closeter an' closeter until I wa' right against her. She had a evil eye an' she rolled it aroun' on me an' pierced me through an' through until I jes' fell on my knees all of a trimble."
"But what was she doing, Aunt Pearly Gates? What was all the booming an' humming for? Why was she fixed up so funny?"
"I wa'n't sho', honey baby, but I done hearn whisperin's goin' 'roun' that Aunt Peachy had some kinder cha'm-wuckin' power that she done got straight from the debble hisse'f. They do say she had it an' her pappy befo' her had it an' mebbe her gran'pappy—an' some er them beads an' things wa' handed down ter her from Afgan kings, beads an' cha'm-wuckin' bones an' sich. Anyhow, she done got all the niggers fer miles aroun' skeert er her spells an' cha'ms an' she got 'em a thinkin' that she wa' a kinder ​she-god-debble what wa' mo' holy than the Lamb an' when they hearn the drum a rollin' they mus' come a runnin'.
"Now Ol' Miss, what wa' Marse Thomas' wife an' yo' great-gran'maw—Miss Viginia Harrison as wa'—wa' a great han' ter learn the slaves Bible teachin's. She done tuck lots er pains with me 'long with a whole passel er young nigger gals, but it looked lak she kinder singled me out 'cause she 'lowed she wa' gonter make a lady's maid er me. At the same time Marse Thomas wa' a carryin' on Sabbath school fer the men folks. Si Johnson, that is Brer Johnson, wa' his prize scholard an' owin' ter his a holpin' his pappy in the mill he useter have time ter put his book larnin' he done picked up ter some 'count an' while the mill wheel wa' a-doin' the wuck Si could set an' search the scriptures.
"When I fell on my knees thar in front er that wicked ooman I thought the debble had me fer sho'. The big black man, what wa' owned by the Macons, wa' a beatin' on the ol' horse hide an' the boom-a-laddy-boom wa' a keepin' time ter my heartbeats. Aunt Peachy done ketch on ter how skeert I wa' an' she wa' jes' that low-lifed ter wuck some er her debble cha'ms on me. She start a marchin' roun' me a singin' some ​kinder outlandish chune 'thout no words. The chune had a kinder swing ter it lak one er our chu'ch chimes, but it wa' diffunt, too. It sounded mo' wil' lak, an' befo' you know'd what wa' happenin' all the crowd er folks began marchin' behin' Aunt Peachy jes lak so many sheep an' they tuck up the chune same as her. Even my own mammy jined the others, but I ain't never helt it aginst her none 'case I wa' sho' she didn't know what she wa' a doin'. All wa' a circlin' roun' me 'cept'n' one young man. It wa' Si Johnson an' what should he do but come an' kneel down by me an' we foun' ourselves a sayin' what Ol' Miss an' Ol' Marse Thomas done been a learnin' us ter say out'n the lil' Bible book what they calls Pra'r Book: 'O Lamb er Gawd who taketh away the sins er the worl', have mercy upon us! ' We said it over an' over until a kinder peace stol' over us in spite er the turrible dance what wa' a goin' on.
"I looked up to the sky kinder lak I 'spected a sign er somethin' from Jesus. The moon wa' a hangin' low by that time an' the shadows wa' gittin' long. The big hollow tree what wa' servin' as a drum stood out black an' scrawny aginst the sky. All of a sudden I seen the sign an' I know'd somehow it wa' meant fer me, an' the Lamb er Gawd wa' a havin' mercy upon me. ​I jumped up from my knees an' I called out in a loud, clear voice, an' in them days they useter say I had a voice lak a bell—even though I wa' so young they useter call on me ter lead the singin' at meetin's."
"What was the sign? What did you call?" asked Rebecca, her eyes shining with excitement.
"I called out: 'See the cross! Sinners! See the cross!' Sho' 'nough, thar wa' the cross right thar befo' us—an' it wa' the self-same ol' burnt tree with the horse hide stretched 'roun' it with the black man a beatin' it fer dear life.
"'Look! Look! We're in the shadder er the cross!' I cried out louder an' clearer, an' all the crazy dancers stopped an' looked down on the groun' an' seed the shadder an' then they looked up an' seed the ol' burnt tree a standin' out lak a cross an' they fell down on they knees an' howled lak they wa' in mortal pain. Si Johnson then began ter 'zort an' pray an' the black man what had been a beatin' er the drum fell down in a kinder fit.
"The outlandish chune what they had been a hummin' an' buzzin' wa' still a ringin' in my years, an' all of a sudden it come ter me that it wa' pretty nigh the chune what we all time sung, 'Come Along, True Believer' to, so I jes' raised up my voice in the hymn an' it wa'n't ​much trouble ter make the change an' pull the debble chune 'roun' ter the hymn chune."
"Oh, please sing it to me, Aunt Pearly Gates!"
"I ain't got much voice left, honey chil', but this is the way it went:
"'Come along, true believer, come along:
The time am a rollin' 'roun,'
When them what stan's a-haltin' by the way
Won't wear no glory crown!
Oh, the moon shine white, the moon shine bright;
Hear the news what the spirut tells,
The angels say there's nothin' fer ter do
But ter ring them cha'min' bells!
"'Almos' home! Almos' home!
We faints an' falls by spells:
Angels say th'ain't nothin' fer to do
But ter ring them cha'min' bells!'"
The sweet old voice rose and fell in the lovely negro melody. Rebecca's eyes filled with tears ss she listened, enraptured.
"And then what?" she asked, breathless.
"Then all jined in an' we po' colored folks stood thar in the moonlight an' worshipped Gawd lak white folks done taught us ter worship, with the shadow of the cross fallin' on us."
"Oh, Aunt Pearly Gates, how wonderful! ​And what became of Aunt Peachy after that?"
"She done slunk away an' nobody did'n' hearn no mo' er her conjering fer many a day. The nex' thing we know'd, Aunt Peachy wa' one er the mos' rombustious mimbers er the chu'ch, prayin' an' 'zortin' an' shoutin'. She allus had it in fer me'n Si, though, fer bus'in' up her conjer dance. Three or fo' years arfter that, when me'n Si done got Marse Thomas' consent ter git married, Aunt Peachy done tu'n up at the wedding, though Gawd knows she didn't git no invite, an' she brung long a bride's gif, a moughty fine-looking glass water pitcher with a crack in it. I's fear'd Aunt Peachy's 'ligion an' her pitcher air jes' about the same: neither one er them won't hol' water."