Emma Waits Out a Spring Snow

We sure had some snow.
So many wrecks, all over
the road, down ditches
and spun out in fields
like cars which had gotten
loose without their drivers.

Didn’t go out ourselves,
only for the mail or to feed
the horses, and Will does that.
All I do is crochet and cook.
Will goes out to feed the cats,
two nice black females. One
meets him right at the door.

Before the snow Will had onions
and lettuce up, and some peas.
Also have tomato plants but
we kept them indoors. Now
the Easter flowers are coming
through. I wonder why I quit
going to church. Been all
of forty years now. Everything

might be froze—it’s all snowed
over. My mother would say that
early planting was like trying
to get ahead of God.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)

From Emma's Scrapbook: 1953

She had heard it happen,
heard the bone break
as it happened and did not
need to read the account.
Still she kept the clipping,
though God only knows why.
The strap snapped, the one
holding her son to the top
of the power pole.

Andy became a lineman,
climbing and wiring
after a hot summer
of scaling trees, trimming
the tops to let in light
so they could make a movie
starring Gary Cooper.
Andy was agile and fearless
like his father, and proud
of his job, of making more
than the boys who stayed
in town and worked,
safe at Western Auto
or Brown’s Boots and Shoes.

It snapped and he fell,
and she heard his fingers
scrape the cross arm
as he tried to hold onto
the 30 foot pole, heard him
curse all the way to the ground
hitting Bob McClain on the head
with his flailing arms, heard
him hit the ground and land on
his feet, bounce once and fall

again and break his wrist.
For years he woke in the night
with a shout, reliving
the moment he knew he was
going down, and she heard
that too, heard it
each and every time.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)

From Emma's Scrapbook: 1950

Nabbed the photograph caption says,
a smashed police car and a dead
deer lolling across the hood.

Police chief Volpe gave her
son Andy such a hard time when
he was young, once arresting him

when he and Brad Johnson cut down
parking meters with a hacksaw
and put them in Volpe’s cruiser

because he had given then parking
tickets—they were only high
spirited and Volpe couldn’t prove

a thing. Chief Volpe wasn’t hurt
in the accident, but his cruiser was
destroyed when the button buck leapt

through the windshield. He had
to get Lucius Lowry to tow him
into town, and everyone looked

at him, sitting in Lucius’ truck,
his precious Plymouth looking
like someone punched it in the face.

It was 1950 and Emma’s Andy
was serving in Korea, while Volpe
had avoided fighting in the last

war by declaring he was an only
son. Andy was Emma’s only child,
yet Chief Volpe got out of the fray.

As far as Emma is concerned, Joe Volpe
is a cowardly bastard, and the deer
was a slap in the face, a reproach

to those like him who claimed to serve
the law then stretched it to suit
themselves. She doesn’t forgive easily,

if at all, and the day she went down
to the jail to get Andy she all but
took Volpe’s head off right there.

Ever since, Emma swore if she saw him
crossing the street and she was driving,
she’d have him draped across her hood.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)

From Emma's Scrapbook: 1944

Too many died in the world war
for Emma to save the obituaries,
instead she keeps the clippings
about the deserter gunned down
on Liberty Street, right beside
her and Dale’s house in Clarion.
Dale says, Enough is enough,

swear that when he retires
they will move to the forty acres
on Scotch Hill. Any excuse to leave
town, Emma thinks. She’s of two
minds about moving back to a farm
—half of her likes being away
from the work she’s always known.

The Clarion News says the man
claimed to be a veteran
of the Pacific campaign,
incapacitated by malaria,
that he traveled all over,
always keeping a full tank,
a shotgun in his trunk,
and a revolver on his person.

Where the man made his mistake
was in trying to settle down.
A man like him has to run,
Emma thinks, has to keep
his steps soft, his picture
out of sight, not take a job
driving dozer at the mines.
He should have gone out West

like her brother, and never
got found. Emma was startled
by the gunshots next door,
the police lights pinwheeling
and chasing the air ahead.
She wishes he had vanished,
had not reminded her that those
who are running might be right
beside you, might be somewhere
you are trying hard to live.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)

Emma Is Surprised While Doing Chores

I have to get my picture
taken for my license tomorrow,
so I’m getting my hair cut
today—it sure did grow over
the winter, the only thing
that does. It’s going to be
a busy few days. When
I get back from town there
will be wash to do
and that will make me
plenty tired. I still like
to use my old wringer washer
because I know the clothes
are done up right when
I put them through the wringer.
That new washer my son bought me
is all water and spinning and when
it shuts off and I open the door,
I find all the clothes twisted.
That can’t be good for them.

The Amish man is coming soon
to trim the horses’ hooves,
so I’ll have to watch out
for him while I work.
He spooks me when he comes up
from behind when I’m weeding
or something. They drive no
cars and make no noise
when they arrive. You just get
going on something and then
there’s a voice and a man
with a beard and black clothes.
It’s enough to make you jump
clear out of your skin.

There was suddenly lots to do
yesterday when we had company.
My son and his wife and
my husband Will’s brother
Walt and his wife dropped in.
They stayed for two meals.
I had oyster stew and hickory
baked ham and cheese sandwiches,
with sweet onion and lettuce,
at noon. It wouldn’t occur
to them how much work it takes
to lay out that much food.
I had pork spare ribs, kraut,
dumplings, creamed new peas
and potatoes for supper.

So I didn’t do much today.
I rested and played Old Sol
some (even beat him, twice,
and I never cheat), after
I baked bread. Always do
that in the morning before
the day heats up. I will
have to get some yarn
and get busy on something
after I finish the rag rug
for in front of my sink.
Could as easy buy one,
but they’re made so cheap
you might as well spread
the newspaper on the floor,
and they never last. I use
good denims, heavy cotton cut
out of Will’s work shirts,
and then I put in colors
from my old house dresses,
enough to make the eye dance.
My rugs will wear and wear.
no matter how hard you use
them, and in front of my sink
a rug can go back to rags
right under my feet
before I know it.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)

From Emma's Scrapbook: 1938

Her son Andy’s teacher,
Mr. C.A. Conley, sent home
a page of the boy’s handwriting,
and a picture of a sailing ship
he colored. The ship is under
a blushed setting of rising sun,
the ocean is smeared with violets,
the saffron sails are as proud
and full as pregnant aprons.

But the script is what makes
her wonder at what they are
teaching the boy, what odd
new words have been trying him.
Fourth grade, already a class
beyond what his father passed,
and his uppercase letters look
like fine buildings in town,
laced and painted in three colors.
His lowercase script shirks
across the page like ants
trailing some rumored sweetness.
The wispy line of numerals
were an afterthought.

This is a sample of my best
handwriting, it says below,
and she is sure it is, sure
it will never be as fine
as this again. She folds
the ruled paper eight times,
and puts it away in her book.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)

Emma Goes Back to the Home-place

We canned two bushels of peaches.
There are lots of tomatoes
for eating but they’re not
ripening too fast so we can
keep up with them. We don’t
have the flowers we used to.
My husband Will’s garden was full
of dill and he’s been fighting it
all summer. I made dill pickles,
though I can’t eat them. I want
to finish so I can replant violets.
I have two and three in a pot.

Last week I took a notion to get
some of mother’s lamb’s tail,
and figured it was still growing
down on the old home-place,
even though the land has been
fifty years wild, most of it
strip-mined. So yesterday we took
a ride down to Sherret. Things
have grown up something awful,
lots of farms have gone back.

We parked and I took Will back
the old lane, and at the bottom
of the mountain steps we found
a stand of those long white
blossoms—must have been a good
year for them, they were all over.
Mother had them up by the porch,
on the mountaintop, but now
they’ve seeded themselves below.
I dug down and got a good clump
and put it in a cardboard box.
We didn’t go up to the old place.
The steps are gone, and I’m sure
the house is too.

Next we visited one of my old
girlfriends. She was married
to a friend of my first husband.
I haven’t seen them since my son
was born nearly sixty years ago.
Even their neighbors knew me,
but for a while I kept them guessing.

I had been Sunday school secretary
and she was treasurer. When I told
her that, she had forgot. She has
turned kind of shaky. I said:
I am Emma Dobson, but I used to be
Peggy Lindsay, and before that
Margaret Woster. I didn’t go
into how I got all those names,
but I was born Emma Margaret,
then each of my husbands called
me a name to go with theirs.

She knew me by my first and cried
My God and hugged me. I imagine
there’s lots of folks I still know
all over down there, if I could
keep up with where they’ve gone.
I made them acquainted with Will.

:: Naton Leslie, Emma Saves Her Life (2007)