The day Shelly’s baby boy was born a snowstorm hit the mountain with a blinding fury, turning her world white. The pains started early in the morning. It was just turning spring, the worst time for a surprise snow. Shelly feared she wouldn’t make it to Maude Tuggle’s in time. It was Maude’s custom to help any woman, no matter what color of skin, give birth. That just wasn’t done in those times. Coloreds had their own granny woman, but Shelly was different than most, rebellious in ways that would only get her into worse trouble than a baby boy without a daddy. She helped kill his daddy. Well, she really didn’t put the weapon in her hand, but she watched. And even though it was a big sin, she enjoyed every minute. Revenge was sweeter than any candy. But, he deserved to die. He tried to rob her, did rob her, of virtue. If not for that ghost showing up when it did, he would have robbed taken her soul and left her barren.

Mama only shook her head when she finally allowed herself to notice Shelly’s condition. “Shelly, child, what have you done?”

“Not me, Mama, not me, him. He planted his seed before he died. I watched him die. I’m glad he’s dead.” The force of Mama’s hand across her mouth brought blood.

“Shut up girl! Never let me hear you speak of it again.”

When Shelly dared to look into her eyes, She saw only sorrow, terrible deep blue sorrow like a clear sky on a cold winter day. “Yes, Mama.”

Mama put her hands on Shelly’s shoulders. “I can’t lose you, Shelly. I never want to hear that story. God will strike me dead if I hear it and do nothing.”

“Why me, Mama? I never did one thing to him. Why me? Surely you know what this man did to me.”

“Shut up, Shelly!” Mama placed her hands over her ears and backed into a corner. “Never speak of this again!”

Shelly knew Mama meant well, but to sentence her only child to carry that story around inside her heart was a terrible curse. Worse than having the sight. The whole time Shelly carried her son she worried over Mama’s thoughts. She worried over his color. People would know if he came out white that his daddy was Pastor Dobbins. She worried over the pastor’s ghost visiting her, standing by her bed with his bloodied face, pointing his finger. Surely God would find a way to forgive her.

So, by the time William was born, Black Mountain was recovering from one of the worse snowstorms ever. Mama and Shelly skirted around each other, acting as if life were normal. Mama refused to notice her pains that morning. So, Shelly went to Maude on her own. Shelly only knew the woman from watching her walk the mountain with her doctor bag all quiet and brooding in a tender sort of way. If her baby came out white, Maude would help find him a good home. Shelly loved her unborn child enough to give him away if she had to. And, that love made no sense to her seeing how he came to be. Something inside of her just softened each time he kicked.

The pains shot across her back, doubling her over as she cut across a snowy field to get to Maude Tuggle’s cabin. It was growing dark when she passed the old oak tree. She seen old man Tuggle swinging from the tree limb, his face as purple as a violet. She had grown accustom to the sight and knew the whole story behind Mr. Tuggle. It had crossed her mind more than one time early on to just end her thoughts and memories, but she knew she couldn’t put an end to the life inside of her. It would have been plain wrong.

It was the handsome red-headed boy that stopped her dead in her tracks. Even with her pains, she could enjoy his green eyes. He smiled kind of shy as if he wanted to speak, but didn’t know what to say. She left him watching her make her way to the cabin. He had something to do with Maude Tuggle’s past, but that part just wasn’t real clear.

Maude Tuggle didn’t seem the least bit put out when she opened the door and found a colored girl about to drop her baby on the front porch.

“Where’s your mama, Shelly Parker?”

“At home. She didn’t want no part of this baby or me going to a white woman for birthing.”

“Hmph. Women are women.” Her words were clear, free of hate.

“There’s a story behind this baby you got to know.”

Maude took her arm. “Ain’t no story that would surprise me, Shelly.”

Shelly thought it must have been Maude’s understanding ways that made her blurt out the next words, “I didn’t kill him.”

“Too bad. He deserved everything he got. I can’t think of a man that deserved to die better, except for Hobbs Pritchard. Now, they were two of a kind. But the way I see it Hobbs was better because he never hid his evil.” Hatred crept into her words. “I know too much about Pastor Dobbins and his family. He tried to get me to clean up his mess once before.” She stared at Shelly. “But, he found out I am decent.” Maude took Shelly to her bedroom. “You undress and crawl up there.”

“This is your bed.”

“The only bed in the house and unless you want to give birth in the kitchen, I suggest you do as I said.”

Shelly did. “I seen him.”

“Who?”

“You’re feller. He was beautiful to look at. He stands under that old oak tree with unfinished business.” A pain ripped across her back and wrapped around her stomach as water burst from between her legs like a dam.

“Quit talking nonsense.”

“I got the sight. I see the dead.” She wanted to tell Maude of the ghost that saved her life nine months earlier, how this spirit took Pastor Dobbins’ life, but the next pain made her scream louder than She’d ever screamed. God was showing her who was boss.

One hour later William Parker cried for the first time. All those thoughts of giving him away just left her head. He was the beauty in her life and she wanted to shout her happiness from the top of the mountain.

“I want my Mama.”

“She’s in the living room. She was here when our boy came into the world. She was following right behind you.” Maude smiled. “She was peeking in the door. I do believe she would like to be a proud grandmother.”

Shelly’s heart opened right up to the whole universe and accepted any fate it might bring just as long as she could have her beautiful baby.

And that’s the way it was for three years, happier than she could imagine. Shelly worked their little farm with Mama. She took in sewing and helped Maude when she needed an extra hand. She learned more than could be imagined. But, her true love was writing stories and thoughts in a little book Maude gave her. She wrote about William. She wrote about his daddy. William was light skinned with his daddy’s piercing eyes. Not one soul said a word. It was as if all of Black Mountain accepted William as part of life.

Then, Mrs. Dobbins was hauled off to a crazy bin after she was found one evening in Mama’s front room with a knife, raving about protecting Shelly and Elizabeth, her daughter. It was plain the woman was in another place and time. Mama did real well with her until Elizabeth came. Elizabeth hadn’t looked Shelly in the eye since her daddy was found dead. But, that evening she looked Shelly dead in the eyes, and Shelly read every thought in her head. All those years of caring for her, making her bed, bringing her fresh lemonade, washing her clothes, and Shelly never knew Pastor Dobbins was hurting her too. In a weird way, they was kin.

“I’ll help you take her home.” Shelly took Mrs. Dobbins’ right arm.

The woman looked at her real wild-eyed. “I tried to help.”

“I know.” How could she act all soft with this woman, who used both her and Mama up? Mrs. Dobbins must have suspected her husband of something.

Elizabeth took her mother’s other arm. “Let’s go home, Mama.”

They walked out of the house while William clung to Mama’s leg. It was Elizabeth that found the nerve to speak. Speaking never was hard for her.

“I’m sorry for what happened that summer. I don’t know the whole story, but I know my own story so I can imagine. Mama’s mind just left her when she finally figured out what he was up to. She always knew, but just refused to see what was in front of her face. She chose not to stop him.” Elizabeth stopped. Mrs. Dobbins just stared off into the growing dark. That’s when Shelly saw him. He stood, real tall and proud, on the back porch of his house. He was waiting for his women to come home. His face was normal, harsh around the edges, cold around the eyes. Shelly stared back with hatred.

“I know you hate us. I don’t blame you, Shelly. You never deserved to be hurt.”

Pastor Dobbins turned his back.

Mrs. Dobbins jerked her arm free from Shelly. “There,” she pointed, “there he is on the porch. He’s mad. We’re late and he hasn’t had his supper.”

Shelly put her arm around the woman’s shoulder. “Mrs. Dobbins. He can’t hurt you. He’s wandering the house because he’s hurt so many. His soul is broken into a million pieces.”

Mrs. Dobbins looked hard into Shelly’s eyes. “I wished I’d killed him that first night when he beat me. He beat me until I prayed to die. I saw Jesus standing in the door. I should have killed him, but it just wasn’t right. It was a sin.”

“Some killing is not all that bad, Mama.” Elizabeth looked away from Shelly.

They walked Mrs. Dobbins home, and Shelly didn’t see him no more.

Even though Mrs. Dobbins went to the hospital and Elizabeth was free to leave, she stayed on in the house, roaming the halls as if she were looking for an answer to the million questions written into the new wrinkles on her forehead. Shelly thought she half way wanted to run into Pastor Dobbins so she could kill him again. The only time Elizabeth looked happy was when Shelly wandered over there with William for a short visit. Elizabeth’s face would lighten and reveal that girl Shelly knew in her childhood. And that’s how it went, visiting here, talking there. They sought each other out.

It was on one such visit Shelly sat with Elizabeth on the porch while William played on an old tire swing—both her and Elizabeth had played on the same tire back when they was young—Shelly saw real plain what drew her and Elizabeth together.

“I’m tired, Shelly. I feel like an old woman.”

“That’s just silly. You don’t turn twenty-five until next month.”

“I’m old in my soul I sometimes feel I can’t go on.” She was real quiet for a minute.

“Elizabeth, watch this!” William hung up side down.

William’s sister looked up from Shelly’s face and smiled at her brother. Shelly’s heart fluttered. What a horrible and wonderful tie that bonded them. “Be careful, Will.”

“Shelly, if you could do anything in the world, what would you do?”

Shelly didn’t have to think real hard on this subject. “I’d go to this school in Atlanta. Maude told me about it. I’d go there and learn to be a writer. You know I love to write stories.”

Elizabeth laughed, but her the reflection her eyes told another painful story. “Oh Shelly, you are so much smarter than all the rest of us. I always loved that in you. I was jealous of that.”

“A white girl jealous of me?”

“Yes. My family always destroyed anything beautiful except you, Shelly, you and your beautiful little boy. You’re survivors.”

“So are you, Elizabeth. You’re a survivor too.”

That was the last words Shelly spoke with Elizabeth.

For three days Shelly had a nagging in her chest, but she was busy with Maude. Finally she found herself knocking on Elizabeth’s back door. Pastor Dobbins stood in the kitchen staring out the back door, staring through Shelly like he did most of her life. She ran past him and up the stairs. On the landing her chest ached, her breath came in short bursts and she tasted her salty tears. Her ears rang. Her heart spilt in half.

Elizabeth hung from a ceiling beam by one of his belts.

“You bastard! You rotten bastard! I hate you! I hate you for what you did!” The words came between sobs. Shelly sobbed for all the abuse and wrong leveled behind the disguise of love. She cried for the first time since the whole mess started.

The butcher knife sawed threw the leather belt after a lot of work. Shelly cradled Elizabeth in her arms. She held her until dark crept in the windows.

When it was all said and done, Elizabeth left Shelly the money to live out her dream. Folks said it wasn’t proper; Shelly being colored.

Shelly left for college the next fall. Mama and Maude agreed to watch William. Again she left Black Mountain. This time she went to explore her dream, find her path, but Black Mountain was in her blood, showed up in every piece of writing she put on paper. She would honor both girls with her dream.