idea what to do with theirselves. Like they forgot how to light kerosene. Just give me a
good lantern in hand and I be fine."
Oz and Lou carried their plates to the sink.
"After you done in the barn, I show you the spring-house. Where we get our water. Haul
it up twice a day. Be one of your chores."
Lou looked confused. "But you have the pump."
"That just for dishes and such. Need water for lots of things. Animals, washing, tool
grinder, bathing. Pump ain't got no pressure. Take you a day to fill up a good-sized lard
bucket." She smiled. "Sometimes seems we spend most our breath hauling wood and
water. First ten years'a my life, I thought my name was 'git.' "
They were about to go out the door again, Lou carrying the lantern, when she stopped.
"Uh, which one's the cow barn?"
"How's 'bout I show you?"
The air was bone-hurting cold and Lou was grateful for the thick shirt, but still wedged
her bare hands under her armpits. With Louisa and her lantern leading the way, they went
past the chicken coop and corrals and over to the barn, a big A-frame building with a
wide set of double doors. These doors stood open and a solitary light was on inside. From
the barn Lou heard the snorts and calls of animals, the shuffling of restless hoofs on dirt,
and from the coop came the flapping of skittish wings. The sky was curiously darker in
some places than in others, and then Lou realized these ebony patches were the
Appalachians.
She had never encountered night such as this. No streetlights, no lights from buildings, no
cars, no illumination of any kind granted by battery or electricity. The only lights were
the few stars overhead, the kerosene lamp Louisa was carrying, and the one Eugene
presumably had on in the barn. The darkness didn't frighten Lou at all, though. In fact she
felt oddly safe here as she followed the tall figure of her great-grandmother. Oz trailed
close, and Lou could sense he was not nearly so comfortable right now. She well knew
that, given time to think about it, her brother could imagine unspeakable terror in just
about anything.
The barn smelled of stacked hay, wet earth, large animals and their warm manure. The
floor was dirt covered with straw. On the walls hung bridles and harnesses, some cracked
and worn out, others well oiled and supple. There were single-and doubletrees stacked
on top of each other. A hayloft was reached by a wooden ladder with a broken second
step. The loft took up most of the upper level and was filled with both loose and baled
hay. There were center poles of poplar, which Lou assumed helped hold up the building.
The barn had small wings built onto it on the sides and rear. Stalls and pens had been
constructed there, and the mare, mules, hogs, and sheep loitered in their respective areas.
Lou could see clouds of cold air erupting from warm animal nostrils.
In one stall, Eugene sat on a small three-legged stool that was barely visible under his
bulk. Right next to him was a cow, white with black patches. Her tail twitched back and
forth, her head dipping into the manger box.
Louisa left them there with Eugene and returned to the farmhouse. Oz crowded close to
Lou as the cow in the next stall bumped into the partition and let out a moo. Eugene
looked up at them.
"Old Bran got the milk fever," he said. "Got to hep Old Bran out." He pointed to a rusty
tire pump in one corner of the stall. "Hand me that there pump, Miss Lou."
Lou gave it to him, and Eugene held the hose tightly against one of Bran's teats.
"Now g'on pump."
Oz pumped while Eugene went about holding the hose end against each of the four teats
and rubbing the cow's udder, which was inflating like a ball.
"That a good girl, never held your milk afore. We take care of you," Eugene said
soothingly to Bran. "Okay, that's right good," he said to Oz, who stopped pumping and
stepped back, waiting. Eugene set the pump aside and motioned for Lou to take his place
on the stool. He guided her hands to Bran's teats and showed her how to grip them
properly and also how to rub them to get them supple to help the flow.
"We done pumped her up, now we got to get her dry. You pull hard, Miss Lou, Old Bran
ain't caring none. Got to get her milk to run. That what be hurting her bad."
Lou pulled tentatively at first, and then started to hit her stride. Her hands worked
efficiently, and they all heard the air escaping from the udder. It made small, warm
clouds in the cold air.
Oz stepped forward. "Can I try?"
Lou got up and Eugene moved Oz in, set him up. Soon he was pulling as well as Lou, and
finally drips of milk appeared at the ends of the teats.
"You doing good, Mr. Oz. You done pulled cow teat up there in the city?"