The Heart of a Peacock by Emily Carr

Author:Emily Carr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ART015040
Publisher: D & M Publishers
Published: 2005-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE HULLY-UP PAPER

THERE WAS TROUBLE at Bessy’s. Jimmy Jacob brought the yellow “hully-up paper” the last lap of its journey by canoe. His lean, brown hand put it into the hand of Jenny Smith, which was plump and old—also Indian.

It was the first wire Jenny had ever seen.

Having delivered the paper, Jimmy Jacob sprawled upon the wide uneven planks in front of Jenny’s door, settled his back against the cedar shake wall, and gave himself up to the sun and to his pipe.

Jenny looked at the wire with slow wonder. “What’s it say, Jimmy Jacob?” she asked.

“Some trouble come your Bessy. You got to go quick hully-up,” he said.

“Who tole you?”

“Letter-house woman say,” replied Jimmy.

Jenny bent. They held the wire between them, upside down, scanning the words they could not read. Jimmy had spoken their meaning in English because they were written so. Jenny, having married white, spoke white from habit.

Jenny put the wire back in its envelope and looked a long moment at the splendid typed address: “Mrs. Jenny Smith, Mussel Creek.” She was very proud of her name; it was the only thing she knew in print. Her white husband had taught her that.

A white girl may adore her “Smith” husband, but it is safe to say she is not crazy over the name “Smith.” Jenny had both loved her husband and gloried in his name. It was infinitely finer to be “Mrs. Jenny Smith” than to have her name hitched to an Indian man’s and be “Jenny Joe” or “Jenny Tom.”

HER PRIDE CHANGED swiftly to anxiety. There was trouble at Bessy Joe’s.

Bessy Joe was Jenny’s only child and a bitter disappointment. She had longed to see the blue eyes of John Smith reproduced in her baby, but Bessy was all Indian, dark and strong like her mother.

Jenny had given the child a white name, had insisted that English be spoken in the home, and hoped Bessy would marry white. Bessy had married “Charlie Joe, the Indian,” and gone to his people. Her children would be all Indian too. This, and John Smith’s death, had swept Jenny’s life clean of joy.

But now trouble had come to Bessy, and the love that had congealed during the three years of Bessy’s married life poured molten-hot into her mother’s heart.

She buttoned the yellow slip under her dress-front, knotted the few bits of food that were in the cupboard into a handkerchief, turned the cat and fowls out to shift for themselves, and took her shawl from the peg. “Get up,” she said, prodding Jimmy Jacob in the ribs. “Paper say ‘hully up.’”

No breath was wasted in words as they tramped over the half-mile of brush trail that led to the spot where Jimmy’s canoe was beached.

She joined her weight to Jimmy’s. The canoe crunched gravel and met the waves. Kicking off her shoes, Jenny tossed them into the canoe and waded into the icy water holding her full skirts high till she was safely settled in the stern; then she tucked

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