Keys and Locks and Open Doors

Keys And Locks And Open Doors
JANE WALLIS HICKS

"Quiet the dog, house the pony and bar the doors against the dark."
Each night we heard and obeyed Pa's telling and each morning we woke safe,
forgetting the terrors of the night in the new sun's warm shine and our breakfast bread.
Then Ma sickened bad and Pa carted her to Biddy Makepeace's for a laying on of
hands.
"Remember," he instructed Rory, "Be sure and lock up tight come nightfall."
"I promise faithful Pa," I heard my oldest brother say. But come the dark he was out
sparking Lucy Lovedance and Sim was left in charge. And Sim paid no heed to tellings.
"Waste of time, locking every door. Sick of pissing in pee-pots, me. And double sick
of cleaning them each morn."
I begged him do as our father said, but he only laughed, did Sim. So I took the bairns
to bed with me, making certain sure my door was locked and the shutters firmly barred.
And in the morning on rising to oven the bread I found the outer door wide open and no
sight nor sign of Sim.
When Rory rolled in lazy eyed and rough I told him all and he went in search. Was
still out when Pa 'rived Home at noon. I recounted Pa the tale and he heard me out grim
faced, but shook his head when I asked if he was going hunting for our Sim.
"No point," he said. "Now get the dinner served."
Rory came back as we were finishing the stew. Pa cuffed him hard about the head
and wouldn't let him speak or eat the portion I'd kept by. Then Pa coughed and cleared
his throat, and when we looked at him he told us Ma had died with the sinking of the
day. Padre Filton had her resting in the church, he said, to be dug in on the morrow.
Then he handed me the ring of household keys. And Rory watched all squint eyed and
pinched, knowing that by rights as eldest they should have passed to him. I held on to
the keys, my two hands fighting the cold heavy weight that tried to drag them to the
beaten earth. And as I clutched them so I studied them. I saw that each key large or
small was welded firmly to the iron circlet. I held there in my hands the keys to every
chest and every door within Pa's holding. They were my responsibility till Father relieved
me of the charge. I was now the guardian, he said, seeing as I had a mind to keep the
young 'uns safe and obey his words full strength, unlike some who should know better.
<2>
At first light Pa stowed the spades and lifted the girls into the cart. May took charge of
the reins while me and Pa and Rory walked holding to the sides. When we reached the
graveyard me and Pa and Rory took turns to open up the flinty ground while the bairns
ranged about for pretties to place inside the grave. Then Pa and Padre placed her in.
Padre said the binding words, my three sisters mewling and moaning and dropping in
daisy buds onto the muslin shroud. Then my brother and I filled back the gritty soil and
watched Pa and Padre Filton lay the blessed ironstone slab athwart her lying place to
keep her safe. And when it was all done and Pa had paid the burial toll we set out
straight for Home.
This time Eve and Silence held the reins and all else walked to save the ageing
mule. Once Home I warmed the stew pot and we ate. After food Pa and Rory worked
the land while I, with my sisters' help, cleaned and sewed and baked. At day's end Pa
watched to see how I locked the doors and shutters against the coming of the night and
nodded satisfied when I had it done.
And that night with the keys hard beneath my thin flock pillow, I heard the voices
clearly for the first time. They sounded loud and plain outside my shuttered window
abegging me to open up and come to them. And one of the voices was my brother
Sim's. Another sounded lighter, like my Ma's. But mindful of my father's words I held to
the keys and kept the shutters barred. And gradually the voices drifted quiet and sleep
took me down.
And ever after it was as if Ma and Sim had never been. Pa never spoke of them and
turned aside all questions and he never spoke again to Rory save for yes and no. After
a month of this silence Rory left to marry Lucy Makepeace and spend his strength in her
father's flourmill. I watched Pa's face set harder, carven lines of wrinkles digging valley's
in his leathered skin and I went outside all day to take my brother's work-share then
cooked and baked all eve. My sister May took duty for the house and twins all day.
<3>
From the very time that Rory left our Home Pa shifted all his custom to Marlin's mill.
Though being over in the next valley it was a longer trek to take the grain and the mule
was far from strong.
For me, most nights, the voices came; the voices Pa said were only in my head. He
gave me quintain boiled in honey to make me sleep but the taste was harsh and cast a
dullness over me the following day. But I pretended to drink to keep from causing strife.
And my questions grew, filling my brain to bursting point till at last I took my thoughts to
Padre Filton in the secrecy of Disclosing Hour. He refused to look me in the eye and
talked of devils and temptations. Then he broke the holy pact and betrayed the
questions to my Pa. And Pa bound my mouth with garlic cloth and he beat me till my
skin was bruised and split and snatched back the keys till I could walk again.
And with the keys in Pa's hands I found that I slept quiet, nights. I heard no sounds,
quested not for dimly recognised voices, but only slept soft sleep.
When I was fit again he gave me back my guardianship of the keys and the first night
I slept upon their bulk I heard scratchings at my wooden shutters and the moaning of
what might have been the wind. At first light on going to the running spring to cleanse
my chamber pot I walked the long way round, past my chamber window and saw score
marks bit deep into the ebony-wood shutters. I felt the chill of night come on me despite
the warming of the sun. But I kept my counsel and Pa had replaced the wood by noon.
That night I kept the dog inside my room, putting him at the foot of my bed. And though I
heard a lone voice keening and crying out my name the dog he didn't stir.
The weeks turned and I learned to sleep with stopping in my ears. May and the
bairns cast off their childhood with frightening speed and Pa rarely spoke outside the
meeting house and took to reading sermon books. But I would not go to meetings any
more and Pa ignored my backsliding. As long as I did my work and kept safety on my
mind he seemed satisfied.
<4>
Then Widow Range took sick. She and her daughter lived a scant two fields away
from us and Tildy asked my help to nurse her and Pa said I was to go. So I gave him
back the keys and went to sit with Tildy. But like my Ma the widow sank fast and died
swift as the sun did sink. Tildy begged for me to go to church with her and stand vigil till
the morn and I went with her and Padre Filton into the church as night fell down upon
us. That long night passed in dull-dead numbing coldness. I heard no outside sounds,
no moans no skirl of wind but only the praying padre thanking his god for the ironwood
and ironstone that kept us safe from harm.
We buried Widow Range, like Ma, soon as we could when the sun had risen above
the mountains. Me and Tildy did the digging but it took all three of us to drag the heavy
holding stone across the grave. Padre wore his leather gauntlets but me and Tildy had
to do without, and sore rough bleeding work it was. But still he took the full toll into his
strong-gloved hands when the burial was done.
He then took us in his wagon and dropped us to our Homes as he went on his
praying rounds. And that night with the keys once again beneath my head I heard
voices calling in the dark and the loudest one sounded like the Widow Range.
I took care to go to Meeting with Pa and the bairns the next meeting morn but left the
service before time, pleading my bowels. I walked then to Widow Range's grave and
saw her capping stone was out of line. I'd helped lay it and knew full well it was not the
same.
And now, tonight, I sit and wait the voices. My shutters are opened wide, my
bedroom door unlocked, my binding keys thrown deep within the spring. The house is
open to what may come and I am also ready. I will heed this call. I will leave the
confines of my father's house and join that which waits outside. And as I go I call to the
bairns, my sisters, to come and join the free.

Keys and Locks and Open Doors

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Keys And Locks And Open Doors

JANE WALLIS HICKS

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