Family Ties. Ernest Hill

and I broke down again. “You know what it said?”

      “No, child,” she said. “I don’t.”

      I opened my mouth to answer but I could not. Suddenly my mind began to whirl. I turned from the window and made my way to the far wall, feeling the tightness in my legs, hearing the mounting tide of blood pulsating through my veins. I leaned into the wall, balancing myself with sweaty palms. Anger seized me. I bowed my head and lowered my eyes, seeing the letter again. I bit my lip and pushed hard against the wall. I stared at the floor a moment, then spoke again.

      “‘Time will tell.’”

      “Excuse me?”

      “That’s all she said.”

      I paused. But Miss Big Siss remained quiet.

      “She never came to visit,” I said, sobbing. “And she never wrote me again. She doesn’t want to see me. She’s made that perfectly clear. And if she doesn’t want to see me, I don’t want to see her.”

      “Life is short,” Miss Big Siss said, “even when it’s long.”

      “I can’t go back there,” I said. “I can’t go back there and take a chance on her rejecting me again.”

      “I have never asked you for anything,” Miss Big Siss said. “Not as long as you’ve been living in Henry’s house—but I’m asking you now…No, I’m begging you…. Please go see your mother while you still have a mother to see.”

      “I can’t,” I said.

      “Why not?”

      “I just can’t.”

      “How do you think you would feel if something happened to her before you had a chance to make things right?”

      I didn’t answer. I wanted to, but I did not know what to say.

      “You would feel terrible,” Miss Big Siss said. “That’s how.”

      “I don’t know,” I said.

      “Well, I do,” she said.

      In the hallway, I heard footsteps moving toward us. I looked at the door. Miss Ida entered the room, and like Miss Big Siss, she was still wearing the clothes she had worn to the funeral.

      Miss Ida looked at me and then at her sister. “You tell him yet?” she asked.

      “No,” Miss Big Siss said. “Not yet.”

      “Tell me what?” I asked.

      “Sis and I talked it over,” Ida said. “And we want you to know that you can stay in Henry’s house as long as you want to, and we want you to have his truck.”

      I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I can’t accept that.”

      “It’s what Henry would want,” Miss Big Siss said.

      “No,” I said again. “You all divide his things among yourselves. You’re his family. Not me. I can’t take his things.”

      “When I first saw you, I hated you,” Ida said.

      “Ida!” Miss Big Siss said, shocked.

      “All I could think about is what you took from us.”

      “Ida!” Miss Big Siss said again.

      “But then, over the years, I got to know you,” she said. “And I watched how hard you worked to make things right with Henry. And gradually I saw some of the pain leave his eyes. And I saw him get up and live again. You did that. You took his life from him; then you gave it back. And as the years passed, it was like he wasn’t mad at you anymore. At first, I couldn’t understand it. Oh, I knew Henry was a true believer. And I knew his faith was strong and that he believed in love and forgiveness, but not me. I just wanted him to keep on hating you just like I was hating you. But he didn’t. And over time, I guess I figured if Henry could forgive you, I could forgive you too. Son, take his truck, and live in his house. It’s what he would want.”

      “His family should have his things,” I said.

      Miss Big Siss rose and moved next to me.

      “In Henry’s eyes, you are his family,” she said.

      “That’s right,” Ida said. “As far as Henry was concerned, you’re just as much his family as anyone else. Child, Henry loved you. Don’t you know that?”

      I nodded.

      “Then it’s settled,” she said.

      “No, ma’am,” I said, shaking my head again. “I can’t.”

      “You can and you will,” Ida said. “It’s what he would have wanted.”

      “But I’m leaving.”

      “Leaving!” Miss Big Siss shouted, stunned.

      “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Leaving.”

      She looked at me and then at the suitcase.

      “Where are you going?”

      “Texas.”

      “Where in Texas?”

      “Dallas.”

      “Didn’t know you knew anyone in Dallas.”

      “I don’t,” I said. “I was offered a job. A good job with an engineering firm.”

      “And you decided to take it.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

      “Why?” Ida asked. “Why so far away?”

      “Just figure it might be a good time to start over somewhere.”

      “Well, ain’t nothing wrong with starting over,” Miss Big Siss said, “as long as you running to something and not from something.”

      I didn’t answer.

      “When you planning on leaving?” Ida asked.

      “In an hour or two,” I said.

      “That soon!”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Well, at least take his truck,” Ida said. “The house will be here if you ever decide to come back.”

      I nodded. Then I saw her turn and look toward the front door.

      “We got a house full of folks across the street,” she said. “I guess I better go back over there and check on Mama. She’s been real quiet since the funeral.”

      “I’ll be on directly,” Miss Big Siss said.

      Ida looked at me again. “Plenty food over there,” she said. “You better come on and get something to eat.”

      “I’m not hungry,” I said.

      “Well, I’ll fix you a plate,” she said. “It’ll be over there when you want it.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Then she turned and disappeared into the living room. I heard the screen door open and close as she made her way out of the house and back across the street. I was sitting there thinking about what she had said, when I heard the sound of Miss Big Siss’s voice again.

      “Family is everything,” she said. “But family ain’t much good when the circle has been broken.”

      I remained quiet.

      “I’m not worried about Henry,” she said. “He’s with his wife and child, and all three of them with Jesus. But I am worried about you. Your papa is in jail. Henry is dead. And you and your mama ain’t talking. Before you leave here, I want you to go home,” she said. “I want you to go home while there is still a home to go to.”

      “I’m alright,”