Signs in the Blood Read Free

“Lizzie Beth, you been a good neighbor to me all these years but there ain't a thing you can do for me now. Preacher's prayed over me and I've had a word with all the young uns. They even brought all the least uns in to say good-bye to Mamaw. I'm content in my heart. But I been studyin' about you, Lizzie Beth. All winter long you ain't been yoreself, worser even than right after yore Sam was took. Now, I know you ain't one to talk about yore troubles, but I could see it just the same. You have a great sorrow on yore heart, a hurt that ain't a-healin'.”
    Elizabeth started to protest but Dessie squeezed her hand with surprising strength. “Honey, I don't want you to say nothing. But I got to tell you, I seen that things is gonna be different; like the old hymn they sung this mornin' says, they's a glory side to the cloud . . .”
    Her eyes drifted shut but she continued to talk, her voice growing fainter with each word. “I seen it in a dream and the Lord laid it on my heart to tell you. Lizzie Beth, there's more trials ahead but you'll make it through. You just got to have faith . . .” Her voice was a wandering whisper. “I keep a-dreaming dreams. I dreamt of Little Sylvie, that wild girl who used to live up to your place. She was afore my time but my mamaw done told me of her and I seen her just now as plain as anything. She was a-laying in death, a-laying in the dirt with her babe in her arms and a gold locket round her neck . . .”
    The dying woman tossed restlessly on her pillows. “How come I to see her like that? Mamaw said that Little Sylvie run off and left her poor baby to starve. I can't make it out.” Dessie's words faltered and at last trailed off into a low snore. Elizabeth sat quietly and watched her old friend sleep.
    “She's been talking about that Little Sylvie since she woke up this morning,” said a voice from the doorway. Kylie Sue had returned and was looking down at her sleeping mother with great affection. “She woke up this morning and said she'd had a dream about you and Little Sylvie. She said she'd not go home till she spoke to you.” Kylie Sue's tired smile illuminated her face. “I believe, 'Lizabeth, that with her time so near, why, she's plumb full of the Spirit right now. I reckon she just had to share it with you.”
     
    As her jeep ground its way up the steep gravel road to her farmhouse, Elizabeth found herself wondering about the dying woman's message.
How did Dessie know that I was so unhappy? No one else noticed.
Indeed, she had done her best to present her usual cheerful front. Her daughters certainly had no idea. Laurel was engrossed with her upcoming show at a well-known art gallery, as well as her “day job,” tending bar at a trendy nightspot in Asheville. And Rosemary, busy with her assistant professorship of English at Chapel Hill, was home only for the occasional weekend. Even Ben, her nephew and partner in the herb and flower farm, even Ben, who saw her every day, had no idea of her current state of mind.
But Dessie knew. And she saw something else coming.
    The sight of her house, perched on the mountainside and surrounded by tiers of gardens, lifted her spirits as it always did. She and Sam had built it to look like the old mountain houses—board and batten, metal-roofed, with a long front porch. Over the years various additions had been made, but it was still a modest farmhouse of unpainted, weathered wood. Only the bright periwinkle-blue doors, the attached greenhouse, and the solar collector on the roof gave notice that this was not an absolutely typical mountain dwelling.
    Elizabeth's dogs greeted her joyfully, each vying to see who would be first to go through the door with her. Once inside, they ignored her and headed for the denim-covered sofas while Elizabeth started into the kitchen to fix a glass of iced tea. Passing a mirror that hung near the kitchen door, she paused to examine her reflection.
What did Dessie see that told her how unhappy I've