The Cotton Mill

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

The next two weeks were spent in breathless anticipation. The girls became unusually careful to do everything they were asked, and on the few occasions they were ornery, Momma Campbell would just sigh and say, “I sure hope Santa ain’t around to hear you fussin’.”

One night Poppa Campbell took an axe behind the house, found a nice white pine, and chopped it down. He placed the end of the bare trunk into a 5-gallon bucket and filled it with rocks.

“Can I pop the pop-corn, Momma, please?” Josie begged,

“Not this year honey, the stove and grease is dangerous. Maybe next year when you are older,” the mother said as she winked at her husband. “And maybe after you’ve had your own cooking things to practice with.”

The house was very small. So the arm chair that Colin enjoyed falling asleep in on weekends was moved into the parent’s bed room for the season. The sofa was pushed into the corner, so the tree could go into the corner opposite the Warm-Morning stove to keep it from drying out too quickly.

Leah now stood over the kitchen stove, one hand holding the handle of the skillet, the other hand holding the lid on, while she shook the skillet back and forth over one of the only three working eyes of the stove. Colin removed the trap door to the attic storage. He pulled down a large cardboard box that proclaimed Dole Bananas on all sides. Carefully stepping off the wooden chair, he carried the box into the living room and set it down on the sofa.

Within moments the girls came running in, carrying bowls of steaming pop-corn, soaked golden by the melted butter that had been poured over it. By this time, Colin was removing from the box not bananas, but an unopened box containing strands of brightly colored lights. These had been stored since last December 26th, when Momma Campbell had bought them, marked at half-off the original price. He laid some on the sofa, and then went outside to begin hanging the others around the front porch. In a half hour their father stuck his head in the front door.

“Hey girls,” he called out. “Go slip on your shoes and a coat, and come out into the yard to watch the lights come on. Go and stand by the car.”

The girls quickly obeyed. Smiling, he joined the Christmas light strand to the brown extension cord.

The girls’ excited voices pierced the silence of the night, “Oh Christmas lights, Christmas lights,” they screamed, jumping up and down. Josie had temporarily forgotten her conflict of whether she was now a child or young girl, having decided to remain a child for at least one more Christmas.

After enjoying the lights for about five minutes, Momma said, “Come on, it’s cold out here. Let’s go back inside.”

“No, no, we wanta stay out here,” the girls pleaded.

“No, it’s cold and besides, we have pop-corn inside, and, we also have new lights to go on the tree! And since you’ve gotten cold, if you go right now, I might even make some hot cocoa!”

The girls raced up the steps, over the porch, and through the door, almost knocking their parents down. Momma and Poppa Campbell followed laughingly.

While the hot drink simmered, the mother reached into the cabinet, and took down four porcelain cups. The cups bore the name “Esquire Hotel.” Each had a slight chip somewhere on the cup. Momma Campbell had worked in the hotel for a short while as a waitress and was given the cups that had been damaged. She poured the hot cocoa mixture into the cups. Just as she reached down to pick up the two cups, she gasped.

“It just kicked!” she called out to Colin.

The girls were startled as their dad dropped the light strands back onto the sofa and ran into the kitchen. They assumed he was going to get whatever had kicked their momma, but instead of crying out like she was hurt, both were just laughing. So whatever it was that kicked her must not have hurt very much.

A few minutes later, Momma and Poppa came from the kitchen, each carrying two cups. The girls each eagerly reached for one.

“Let it cool for awhile,” their mother warned.

While eating pop-corn and drinking hot cocoa, the four debated how to best place the strand of lights onto the tree. Little did the girls know that this would be the last Christmas they would have their parent’s undivided attention.

That Saturday night Colin and Leah took the girls into Danville to watch their first Christmas parade. Josie stood beside her mom, fighting to see through the crowd. Lisa sat on her father’s shoulders. With eyes the size of walnuts, and mouths wide opened, they watched the floats with their various Christmas scenes. Momma read aloud as they went by.

“Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men.”

“For today, a child is born, his name will be Jesus.”

“Joy to the World, the Lord has come.”

Just when it seemed the floats would never end, they heard a shrill, piercing noise.

“Daddy, daddy, is it a fire? What is that fire-truck doing?” Lisa screamed from her perch on her dad’s shoulders. “What are they throwing?”

“No honey, it’s not a fire. Look who’s on top of the fire truck.”

Lisa’s mouth flew open and her eyes widened.

“It’s Sanna Claus! It’s Sanna Claus!” she said, then reaching down to Josie. “Josie, Josie, it’s Sanna Claus!”

Josie jumped up and down on her toes, to get a better look. Shifting Lisa to one hip, Colin reached down and swung Josie up to the other, although her legs almost dragged the ground. Then they saw the air fill with wrapped candy-canes being thrown by small green and red clad figures, with ringing bells hanging from their clothes.

“See Santa’s helpers,” Leah said to the girls. “His elves are throwing candy to you.”

A few pieces headed toward them, but bounced out of their eager little hands. Lisa squirmed from her father’s arms to the street and began diving for the small pieces of candy. Josie, now forgetting her conflicting senses of maturity, jumped down and joined her sister until both had their hands full of candy.

“Hey girls,” their dad said. “Look up. Quick. You’re about to miss somebody.”

Looking up, they gawked directly into the face of a white haired and bearded man with an unbelievably round belly stuffed into a red velvet suit.

“Sanna Claus, Sanna Claus,” Lisa screamed as she and Josie begin to wave frantically. “Did you get my letter Sanna Claus? Did you get my letter?”

Santa assured her he did by answering her with a very loud and jolly, HO HO HO.

After the parade, the parents drove for the next hour through the wealthy sections of town. The girls were amazed at entire houses, every window, every door, the entire roof covered with thousands of lights. Most had scenes on the front yard; some of Santa’s sled with reindeer, some with people and animals standing around a wooden shed looking at a baby in a crate.

“Momma, how long till Christmas?” Lisa asked a few days after the parade.

“Well, this is Wednesday and Christmas is Sunday night, so how far away is that Lisa?”

Lisa counted on her fingers, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. “Four days!”

“Yes, that’s right.”

It had been such a wonderful two weeks. It was a true family Christmas season celebration. Then Friday arrived.

The children had learned that their parents finished working at the mill on Friday, and then had two days off, Saturday and Sunday. Although during the summer they usually worked most weekends in the tobacco fields, in the winter the parents usually spent weekends at home.

But, on this Friday, the girls saw something they hadn’t seen in almost three months. Usually their dad and mom came in together on Friday evening, just after dark, because they stopped on their way home, cashed their checks, and bought groceries. But before it was even dark, they heard a car pull up. A door slammed, and Momma came in first, crying. She went immediately into the kitchen.

The girls went to the window. There they saw, in addition to their parent’s car, a second car, Mr. Wall’s car. Mr. Wall and another man opened the back door and pulled out their daddy. Each man took one of the arms of the all but lifeless body, and started toward the house. The second man, stumbled a few times, barely able to walk himself, but continued.

The girls knew that he had not been hurt though, for they had seen him like this before, just not this bad. Colin was carried into the house and dropped clumsily across the bed.

Mr. Wall came out of the bedroom and walked into the kitchen. The second man went out onto the porch and, pulling a Camel from his shirt pocket, lit up a cigarette. Placing a hand upon the post, he slipped, and nearly fell off the porch. He then plopped down heavily on the top step. Even though Mr. Wall was whispering, the girls could still hear what was being said because no doors separated the living room and kitchen.

“Now Leah, don’t be so hard on him. You know everyone at the mill has a little to drink on the last day of work before Christmas holiday.”

Leah turned to him and stopped sobbing long enough to respond in a short, harsh tone the girls had not heard in months, “Well J. R., I guess that makes it ok then doesn’t it?”

This was the first time the girls had heard their mom call the family friend anything other than Mr. Wall. There was a silence for a few minutes and then Mr. Wall began walking out of the kitchen.

They then heard their mom say, “Thanks J. R. for helping get him home. I didn’t know anyone else to call. Have a good Christmas.”

“Yeah Leah, you too,” he said and, then turning back, gave the woman a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, I had wanted to get you and the girls something, but I ran out of time, so get you something with this.”

The girls watched as he crammed several bills into their mother’s hand.

“No J.R. This is too much, I can’t take it.”

“Yes Leah, you will take it. You know all my people are away. You’re the closest I’ve got to a family.”

Walking through the living room, he stopped, grinning down with his ever present smile revealing the crooked, tobacco-stained teeth. He leaned over and rubbed each of the girl’s head. The perpetual smell of whiskey on his breath, although repulsive on their father, seemed as natural as Old Spice on the gristly-faced old man.

“Merry Christmas girls, hope Santa is good to you,” he said as he walked out the front door.

By this time, the second man had lain back against the porch post and was almost asleep, or passed out.

“Come on Clayton, time to get you home too,” Mr. Wall said as he reached down, took the man’s arm, and helped him to the car.

The girls woke up the next day to find their mom asleep on the sofa. After making breakfast, she told the girls she had a surprise for them. She was taking them to town to go grocery shopping with her, and they would be getting stuff to make fudge candy. They would also be getting something to make cookies to leave for Santa that night! This trip would be a rare treat for the girls.

They started to run into the bedroom to grab their coats, but their mother told them she would. Through the partially opened door they could see their father still lying across the bed; from the living room they could smell the odor of liquor and vomit that filled the room.

They quickly put on their worn coats covered with patches and ran to the car, jumping into the back seat. Leah drove the 1/2 mile down the dusty dirt road to the main road. Ten minutes later she was turning onto Rt. 58, and in fifteen more minutes she was pulling into the Piggly-Wiggly. Finding the lot full, she made a trip around the block, finding a space one street away, almost directly in front of the Dan River Pharmacy.

As she was coming around to open the girls’ car door, Leah looked into the store. As with most drugstores of the day, it was known more for its snack counter than it was for the pharmacy. The hotdogs and French fries were legends in the Danville area. Leah then saw an opportunity. After the girls departed the car, Leah turned them around, pointing through the double glass doors into the snack bar area. Both girls immediately went running to look through the glass at the people eating. Some were sitting on the tall stools at the counter. The girls watched one young boy as he explored the theory of centrifugal force by spinning around on the stool, first with his legs tucked inward, then tucked outward. They watched as the boy’s mother reached over and stopped the experiment, possibly ending the young man’s future career as an aerospace engineer. They looked then at the booths, with the thick, red imitation-leather padded seats.