February 2, 2005

Well, something was up all right. Abby’s pregnant. How could she let this happen? We found out two weeks ago, but I couldn’t write about it until now. Aunt Wisdom said writing about my feelings will help me deal with them. So here goes.

It was horrible. Momma got suspicious when Abby claimed she was too sick to go to town with her. Abby managed to keep her shield up for over an hour, but in the end Momma was too strong for her and lowered it by force. 

Abby started crying before Momma had a chance to scan her and admitted to being pregnant, but wouldn’t tell who done it to her. Momma went and got Daddy. He took his belt to Abby and nearly beat her plumb to death but she still won’t tell nobody, not even me. 

Daddy started yelling out names and every time Abby refused to answer, he’d hit her again. I begged him to quit, and even grabbed his arm to try and stop him, but Momma put a be-calm spell on me and told me not to interfere.

When Daddy started naming married men, Abby said she didn’t know who the daddy was. 

Daddy’s face went white, then green. He dropped his belt and walked out of the cabin without it. It’s been two weeks and he ain’t come home yet. Who knows if he’ll ever come back. Daddy’s a proud man. The shame of it all might be too much for him.

I wish I could run away too. But Aunt Wisdom said I need to be strong for Abby’s sake. She ain’t got no one else on her side.  Momma won’t even look at her. 

This was supposed to be the best year ever. Aunt Wisdom is opening her new school this fall. Abby’s gone and ruined everything. She won’t even get to go to school at all now that she’s going to be a momma. She’s about eight weeks along. Her baby’s due sometime in August.

January 8, 2005

Something weird is going on with Abby. She’s been moody as hell for weeks. She cried herself to sleep last night and this morning she refused to go help Momma sell eggs and herbal remedies. 


She usually can’t wait to go into town, even though the farmer’s market in Whistler’s Gulch stinks to high heavens on account of being downwind of the chicken processing plant. I avoid it at all costs.


Usually Abby starts acting downright giddy days before they go but she won’t even get out of bed today. Something’s definitely up.

December 25, 2004

Today was the best Christmas ever! Momma made griddle cakes for breakfast. Abby let me wear her pink wool dress with the rabbit fur collar, even though she ain’t outgrowed it completely. It’s still too big for me, but Momma took it in with safety pins so it would at least stay on my shoulders. 

Then we all walked to Aunt Wisdom’s house for Christmas dinner with all our kinfolk and to exchange gifts. There’s so many of us we always draw names when we get together on Thanksgiving Day. That way everybody gets a gift on Christmas without making it a hardship on those of us that ain’t got much to spare. I couldn’t wait to find out who’s name Daddy had drawn or what he’d made for them. He had it hid inside a feed sack and wouldn’t let any of us so much as touch it.

I drew Old Pappy’s name this year and Momma let me use some of her yarn scraps to knit him a pair of house slippers. I been working on the dang things since Thanksgiving Day but Abby had to help me finish the second one last night. It’s about three inches shorter than the other one. I was kinda nervous about giving them to him, especially since the oldest person goes first and everyone was paying attention, but when Old Pappy tore the newspaper off his gift he grinned and told me to yank his boots off so he could try them on. He said he’d never had a warmer, more colorful pair of slippers and refused to take them off. I was afraid he was going to trip over the toe of the long one, so I took one of the safety pins out of my dress and fixed it. 

Daddy claimed he’d lost the slip of paper and couldn’t remember who’s name he’d drawn. So he gave all the menfolk a mason jar full of his famous moonshine and all the womenfolk, including me and Abby, little jewelry boxes he carved out of cedar with our names engraved on the lids. Everybody was happy about Daddy’s poor memory, except Aunt Wisdom. She didn’t approve of him giving liquor to the boys younger than sixteen and took it away from them, but not before cousin Vigor had managed to drink half of his.

Aunt Wisdom had drawn my name. She gave me this diary, a fountain pen and a bottle of ink. My diary even has a lock so nobody can read my personal thoughts. She even helped me cast a touch-me-not spell on my jewelry box so I can hide the key inside. It hurt when she pricked my finger, but we had to use my blood or I wouldn’t be able to open the box either.

We stayed until an hour before sundown. Nobody wanted to leave, but if we would have stayed too much longer, Daddy would have been too drunk to walk home.