Two months had past before George could work with his prosthesis or "wooden leg" as he called it. "Let's not pretend that it is something that it isn't," he had told me. George had always been a precocious boy, but lately he had become even more mature and cynical for his age.
The doctors had told him that his leg had to heal before he could start working on walking; thus, we had waited. Now, he had to go to physical therapy twice a day. And, because he had decided to try to finish his schooling as soon as possible, he attended summer school in between his therapy. I took him to the hospital every morning, to school after that, and then back to the hospital in the evenings.
I took an education course to try to sharpen my teaching skills, but my heart was not in it. I found the work tedious and the professor dull and uninspiring.
It was late July and nearing the time when I would have been planning for the new school year in Cutter Gap. True to his word, David had written everyday. Some days two letters would arrive together, but they never included information about Dr. MacNeill; and, in the last letter I had received, David wrote that Dr. Ferrand mentioned that they would have to contract a new teacher if I did not return by mid August. My heart broke. I felt so miserable. What was my life going to become? Who was I? Why was God letting this happen to me?
Miss Alice's letters brought some cheer. She described in more detail what the children were doing. Sam Houston's arm was totally recovered; and Miss Alice had held a special summer class about the importance of respecting and following gun safety. She assured me how much I was missed. She said that the children asked everyday when I would return. She explained that if they did contract another teacher, it would only be temporary. "Thee can not be replaced, Christy." This brought tears to my eyes. She talked about Margaret, but they were still not on speaking terms. Miss Alice's letters seldom mentioned Dr. MacNeill. Why should she? I asked myself. I wore sadness like a coat.
I had thought about writing Dr. MacNeill so many times. I could not count how many times I picked up the pen and wrote "Dear Dr. MacNeill," but each time I wadded the paper up and threw it into the trash can. He was a married man, I told myself. I wondered if he ever thought about writing to me. But his life had moved on. He had Margaret. Of course he didn't think of me. And hadn't I set out to get them back together--to reconcile Margaret, Miss Alice and Neil. Why did it still hurt so much? And then I remembered the night that we danced in the moonlight. It seemed so long ago and so surreal. Maybe it had been a dream after all.
In the evenings, George and I were both so exhausted that we spoke very little. We ate small dinners and usually retired to bed early.
"George, is everything okay at school?" I asked him one evening as we were eating. We had come home late from the hospital, and, as I had not had time to prepare supper, we ate only salad and bread.
"Yeah." He said unconvincingly.
"Then why have you been so down lately. Are you okay?"
"I wish you would quit fussing over me all the time. I wish everyone would stop. I am tired of people acting like I am going to break if they look at me funny."
"Well, I am sorry if my concern bothers you so much." I regretted saying it as soon as I had finished. I was not angry with George. I was angry with myself for not being able to help him, and I was upset over the fact that Cutter Gap may have a new schoolteacher. "I'm sorry, George," I said. "I'm just tired." I turned to the pile of mail that lay in front of me on the table. I opened a letter from David.
"Is that from Rev. Grantland?" George asked. His voice sounded as though he was sorry that he had lost his temper too.
"Yes," I said.
"You miss it a lot, don't you?" He asked.
"Yes." I admitted.
George got up from his chair, tucked the crutches under his arms, and came over to me. He knelt before me on his one good leg. He held both crutches in his left hand.
"Then why don't we go there, Christy. Why don't we just go? I want to get away from here. I want to get away from the constant reminders of the person I used to be. And you want to get back to the person that you have become. I can not bare to see you so sad. I can't bare that you are sad because of me." His chin quivered. "And I can not bare to see my "Most Valuable Player" plaque hanging on the wall at school. I can not bare another day of seeing the boys that I used to horse around with run through the hallways without me." He was desperately crying now with his head in my lap.
"I can't take it anymore, Christy. I can't!"
"What makes you think it will be different in Cutter Gap?" I asked.
"Because the people there will only know me as I am now. They never knew who I used to be. They won't treat me as if I am half a person."
We had hit bottom, George and I. I ran my fingers through his thick, straight hair as mother used to do. I tried to picture George in Cutter Gap. I worried about the rough, steep terrain. How would he manage there? "What about your physical therapy? " I asked.
"Dr. MacNeill could help me. He told me before that he could get me riding a horse." I smiled at this thought. I wanted desperately to say yes, but was I saying yes only because it was what I wanted? Was this what was best for George? Oh how I longed for Mother and Father.
"Are you sure Georgie?" I asked.
"Yes, I am sure. I have never been more sure of anything in my life."
"Let me think about it some, okay Georgie. I don't want to rush into a decision."
He smiled up at me. The blue of his eyes seemed even bluer because of the red lines that surrounded it. "It is the right thing Christy--I know it is." I almost choked with emotion when I saw his face. And the thought of possibly returning to Cutter Gap overwhelmed me.
We could not eat after that. I told George good night and then retired with the mail to my room.
If only I knew that I was doing the right thing. Miss Alice had said that George was welcome at the mission house, if I decided to return, but was it right? I looked above me, not at the ceiling, but past that. I was looking for God. What do I do now? I asked. I sighed. I stared without thoughts at the lantern on my nightstand. I was so tired. My bones felt tired.
Finally I snapped out of the malaise and began to open the mail. There were the usual bills and statements, but among these was a letter with no return address. I looked at it curiously. Then I opened it. There was a small piece of paper inside. I found no name or any indication as to who had sent it, but in a messy scribble of ink I found these words:
Down in the Valley
Valley so low
Hang your head over
Hear the wind blow
Hear the wind blow, lass
Hear the wind blow
Hang your head over
Hear the wind blow.
I smiled and held the letter to my heart.
*******************
The next morning, with George by my side, I called the mission house.
"Hello?" A familiar voice said.
"Ruby Mae, this is Miss Christy."
"Mizz Christy? It's Mizz Christy. " I heard her say. The second time she said my name her voice sounded as if she had turned away from the mouth piece. Her excitement was matched only by the race of my heartbeat. "Oh, Mizz, we miss you a powerful lot. Things just ain't the same here. No one is happy without ya. I don't have no one to brush my hair, or read to me, or talk to about--"
"Ruby Mae," I interrupted her. "I just called to tell you that George and I are coming to Cutter Gap next week. We should arrive on Saturday afternoon."
"Oh Mizz Christy! Mizz Christy." She was out of breath and sounded as if she were jumping up and down. She turned from the mouthpiece again. "She's coming home--she's coming home!" Then there was a rattle and thumping and then David's voice.
"Christy? Is it true?"
"Yes, it's true. We will be there Saturday."
"I don't know what to say--I am speechless. I can't wait to see you. Alice isn't here right now. She's in Cataleechie."
"Oh David, don't tell anyone--I think it would be nice to surprise everyone."
"That's a tall order, Christy Huddleston." He said. I could tell he was smiling. "A secret like that would be worth gold around here."
"David, please."
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He said. "Should I come and get you two in El Pano?" He asked.
"That would be wonderful. We will leave on the morning train from Asheville. But do it discretely, so no one suspects. Don't tell anyone. Not even Miss Alice."
When I hung up the receiver, happiness bloomed all over me.