West Virginia, 1874
Election Day
"Honey! Abi and Elli are here! Hurry it on up!"
My head shot up just like a rabbit's at my Uncle Anderson's call, a seemingly appropriate comparison, considering how I had just been trying to stalk a rabbit using the slingshot Skunk-hair had given me four years ago when I was seven.
"Comin'!" I hollered in response, my identical twin braids nearly slapping me in the face in my rush to get to my feet and over to see my cousins. At eleven years old I was short for my age, with a round face and big brown eyes, and pale pink skin that complimented my tip-tilted nose that Skunk-Head said made me look like a pixie. But more about that later. Fearing that my uncle would be upset that I had wandered off, I picked up my green skirts and high-tailed it for the clearing that was all done up in red, white and blue as I crashed through the underbrush, my slingshot in one hand. Just as I reached the side of the clearing opposite of my family's side I ran into trouble. Trouble by the name of McCoy. There they stood, Tolbert, Sam and Paris McCoy. Big. Ugly. Dumb. Stupid. There is a fine difference between stupid and dumb, believe me, and they fit it.
"Where're you off to in such a hurry little missy?"
I scowled openly at Tolbert. I don't recollect how old he was exactly, but I'm darn sure he was old enough to know better than to pick on a girl, especially a Hatfield girl. Especially a Hatfield girl with a slingshot.
"None of your business." I retorted, making to skirt around the three. They moved to block me. Typical. Gang up on the little girl why don't we?
"And I'm not little." I added, reaching slowly behind me into one of my pockets, my small fingers closing around a pebble the size of my thumbnail.
Tolbert leered at me through his dark eyes. Eyes like that can make one lose oneself is them, especially if the owner of those eyes is handsome or pretty. But I considered the dope neither, and I planted my feet firmly on the leaf-covered ground, squaring my shoulders like I'd seen my daddy do.
Paris took a step forward, staring me down through his big nose. I took a step back, not because I was afraid, well, unless you take into consideration the fact that his breath smelled somethin' terrible, then I was sure as hell afraid of suffocating.
"You sure look little to me, squirt." He announced, fists on his skinny hips. With a poorly concealed smirk I wondered how easily it would be for my uncle Ellison to break those hips. I say my smirk was poorly hidden on account of what that smart-alecky Sam piped up to say.
"What're you grinnin' at, carrot?"
I could tell my face darkened somewhat awful, judging by the way Paris stepped back a bit. My small hands clenched into fists and I shook violently, even though it was too early in the fall for the first chill to set in. Nobody called me carrot and got away with it.
"What did you just call me?" I growled low and deliberate, reaching behind me nice and slow to grab my slingshot.
Sam was either not smart enough to pick up the warning not in my voice or he did not care, somehow I doubt it was the latter, and he scoffed as my face turned nearly as red as my hair.
"Are you deaf, Hatfield? Carrot-top Hatfield. Why don't you go get your retard cousin Cotton-top and we can have a little fun?"
Alright, now I was mad. Directing my heated glare from Sam to Paris I marched right up under the latter boys' nose. He clearly didn't expect such a move, and I glowered up at him a second longer before hollering as loud as I could…
"DON'T CALL MY COUSIN A RETARD!"
And then I turned to the side, took aim and…
THWACK!
My pebble hit Tolbert McCoy straight between the eyes, sending him toppling over backwards onto a pile of leaves. I was up and running before Sam and Paris had their cousin back on his feet.
"PA!" I hollered as I went tearing across the clearing. I half-turned to look behind me then next thing I knew I was flat on my back staring up at Bill Staton.
"Well lookee who we got here." My uncle's friend said jovially as he reached down and set me back on my feet. "How's my favorite Honey-bee?" In a panic I glanced back over my shoulder to shriek when I saw Sam, Paris and Tolbert, now sporting an angry red welt that looked rather like a bee-sting, tearing after me.
"Gotta go, Bill!" I said breathlessly, then I was off again, looking for my pa.
"PA!" I yelled again. Oh Lord above where was he? Then I saw my uncles Anderson and Ellison, both a very close second to my pa.
"Pa!" called two voices to my left. I glanced over while I made a bee-line for my uncles. The two voices who had hollered were none other than my cousins Will and Abi, with Abi's twin brother Elli, or rather Cotton-top, as he was often called. My bright orange hair in the sun must have caught Cotton-top's attention, because he grinned big and huge and waved despite the fact that they were currently being chased down by Jefferson and Bud McCoy.
"Hi, Honey-bee!" He called cheerfully, and Abi and Will looked toward me in confusion. I was so absorbed in watching my three cousins outrun two McCoy's to watch where I was going, and the next thing I knew I had smacked into someone's legs and was flat on my back in the leaves for the second time in as many minutes. A strong pair of hands reached down and hauled me up by my right arm before drawing me behind a pair of legs. I spared the person a glance up. It was my Uncle Anderson. The next second he had Abi in one arm and Cotton-top in the other, passing my cousin to his papa. Will and Rob joined me behind their father's legs, Rob clutching my hand so hard it hurt. Will glanced at me and smiled shakily.
"Hey, Honey."
"H-hey yourself." I stuttered back. We both looked scared out of our wits.
"What the devil's goin' on here?" uncle Anderson questioned, stepping in front of Jefferson like a tree looming over a craning woodchuck. One look at my uncle's face sent Jefferson backtracking into his own uncle, Randolph McCoy, who looked mad enough to spit as he stared my uncle Anse down. Bud and three more of his siblings stood behind Randolph, in addition to Tolbert, Sam, Paris and at least ten more of their cousins. Strength in numbers I suppose.
Randolph McCoy clapped a hand on Jefferson's shoulder to hold him back as he glared at Will.
"They called my pa names!" Jefferson accused, his hands balled into fists.
"That ain't true, Uncle Anse!" Abi whined in defense, gripping our uncle's collar desperately. I grinned timidly up at what I could see of my cousin's pale curls. Brave girl.
Paris shot me a dirty look and mouthed the word 'carrot' at me. I glared at him in return.
"Him and Bud was callin' Elli all sorts o' cruel things!" Abi added, hugging Uncle Anse around the neck.
"Liar!" Bud hollered, restrained from rushing at us by his cousin Tolbert who glared at all of us with almost as much force as his pa, but with extra hate in his eyes at me.
"Weren't nothin' but childish words, Randolph." Uncle Anse called across to Mr. McCoy. "We don't need to start nothin' here."
"Says you, Hatfield." The McCoy patriarch growled, spitting a long stream of tobacco juice into a pile of leaves in fury. I was briefly reminded of a creepy snake spewing venom. Those who were not Hatfields or McCoys or allied with either family beat hasty retreats as they sensed what was about to go down, I barely heard baby Elliot start to cry somewhere behind us over the angry rush of blood in my ears as I saw Paris mouth 'carrot' again.
"Let's just go home," my Uncle Ellison cut in, patting my cousin on the back soothingly. "Ain't no need for all this mess in front of the children."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Johnse's head jerk to his right from where he stood next to his mother. Without turning my head, I followed his gaze into the sea of angry McCoys and noticed a pale girl with pale blond hair and fine features staring at him demurely out of the corner of her eye with disinterest. Good Lord above, Johnse, I thought, she's gotta be at least two years older than you, boy!
I assumed that this must be Roseanna McCoy. I frowned. In my opinion, she wasn't even that pretty, too wispy looking, too frail.
"You keep your kin away from mine." Randolph McCoy's angry voice cut into my thoughts and I returned my focus to the frightening man in front of us. I frowned again. It was rude that he would completely ignore my uncle Ellison. I glanced around desperately. Where oh where was my pa? I glanced up at my Uncle Anderson, blinking in surprise when I saw that he was quite possibly the only one present who was not angry, just tuckered-out looking.
"And you do the same." He said at long last, turning and leading Rob and Will and I away from the McCoys. I stuck my tongue out briefly at Sam before whipping my head around again and clutching Rob's hand tightly in mine, leading him behind me. I barely heard Abi begin to question Uncle Anse on why the McCoy's hated us so much when I saw my pa talking with my mama, aunt Lavicy and Sarah Staton. I did not much care for Sarah Staton, and I by no means considered her my aunt. Probably because she showed such contempt for Abi and Cotton-top, especially for Cotton-top, that I felt no obligation to show her any kind of affection, even though I think it sometimes hurt her feelings. Well how did she think she made Abi and Cotton-top feel? I focused only on my pa as I let go of Rob's hand and my uncle's trousers and ran toward him, my braids flying over my shoulders as I stumbled across the uneven ground to my daddy's open arms.
"Pa!" I exclaimed, hugging him fearfully tight as he scooped me up in his arms. Even though I was eleven, I was accustomed to people picking me up still, because of my small stature.
"How's my Honey-bee?" My pa asked, using the same nickname Bill Staton had used not ten minutes earlier.
"What on earth happened?" My mama asked, her reddish-gold hair tied up just like aunt Lavicy's.
In a breathless voice I poured out the entire story, from running into three of the McCoy boys on my way to greet my cousins, to running into Uncle Anse's legs. I was pleased beyond belief when my pa laughed at the part of my story where I hit Tolbert square between the eyes with my slingshot.
"Well, my little Honey-bee can sting now!" He said jovially, bumping my forehead with his affectionately, ignoring my mother's alarmed noises as she gently brushed the dirt and leaves off of my dress. Then he grew serious, catching my chin in one big hand to meet my gaze.
"But stay away from the McCoy's now, you hear? I don't want to hear of you goin' anywhere near 'em, understood?"
I nodded, wide-eyed, my braids swinging back and forth with the motion. Then a thought crossed my mind and made my brow crease.
"But what about Trinvilla and Nancy? Can't I play with them?"
My daddy sighed and shook his head before looking at me again.
"'Fraid not, darlin'. And besides, you got Johnse and Will, and Abi and Elli to play with, not to mention Rob and your other cousins who need someone to play with 'em." And with that he set me back down and patted my back.
"Go on and catch your cousins now, 'fore they leave." My mama told me, taking my Pa's arm.
I nodded up at him happily before racing off to where I saw Abi running toward her father's wagon.
"Hey Abi!" I hollered. "Wait up a minute!"
My younger cousin by four years came to a screeching halt and grinned happily as she saw me approach. I caught her up in a hug and swung her around, both of us laughing and giggling like sisters.
"Was you scared today?" Abi asked me as I walked with her to her wagon. I glanced at my cousin sidelong.
"It depends." I responded. Abi looked up.
"On what?"
I grinned. "On whether or not you were."
Abi made a face and I laughed. "At least you had Will and Elli with you, I was just by myself with three McCoy's breathin' down my face."
Abi's eyes got big and wide then.
"Three?" She asked in disbelief. I nodded. By then we had arrived at her wagon and Abi caught me in a hug before her daddy swung her up next to Cotton-top.
"Bye Honey!" Cotton-top called down to me happily, reaching across Abi to wave. Grinning, I reached up and brushed my fingers against his.
"See you later, Cotton-top, Abi. Bye Uncle Ellison!" I called as I retreated toward my pa. "Bye Miss Staton!"
I only added because it was polite. I waved 'till their wagon was out of sight. I was just about to turn around when a strong pair of hands clapped down on my shoulders, making me shriek.
"Gotcha!" Came an all too familiar voice. I reached up and swatted the tuft of white hair I saw hanging over me.
"Skunk-hair!" I exclaimed. "Lay offa me, wouldya? I've had an awful rough day!" I faked crabbiness, it always worked with Skunk-hair. He let off, leaning back to observe my rumpled dress and messy hair. At twenty-one, Tom Wallace, more commonly known as 'Skunk-hair', was tall and skinny, with bright hazel eyes that sometimes appeared brown and a big nose. Cautiously, acting as if he were afraid of me, he reached out and plucked a leaf out of my messy hair. When I did not move he laughed, catching me in a headlock and knuckling the top of my head gently, just like the big brother I never had.
"I saw what your slingshot did to Tolbert McCoy's face, Honey-bee!" He guffawed, using the nickname he had made up. I peeked up at him through my bangs.
"And?" I prompted, poking him in the side. Skunk-hair let go and ruffled my hair with one long hand.
"Good shot." He praised me, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile. By this time we had arrived at my pa's wagon. My pa already sat in the driver's seat, the reins resting between his hands as he patiently waited for me. He nodded to my friend before adjusting his hat on his head. Skunk-hair reached down and swung me up onto the seat next to my sister, Victoria. I grinned down at him and brandished my slingshot proudly.
"Can I interest you in a ride home, Mr. Wallace?" My pa asked, he always referred to young men as Mr. and their last name. Skunkhair scuffed one boot in the dirt.
"If it's not imposin'…" He let the sentence hang there. My pa chuckled.
"Climb up then,boy." He said gruffly but not without fondness. The next minute Skunkhair sat in the back behind me. I swung around to face him, leaning against my Ma's shoulder, Victoria leaned against our pa's back, already fast asleep. Skunkhair lived with his frail mother about halfway between the clearing and my parent's house, which was not even a half a mile away from my Uncle Anderson's acreage. This left us with about twenty minutes to talk about nothing at all, including McCoy's, slingshots, and rabbit-hunting. By the time we reached Skunk-hair's house it was nearly dark, and my friend bumped my knee with his before hopping off of our still moving wagon and waving 'til we were out of sight.