chapter one
A for Amen
âA nother girl? Not another girl? Donât tell me Iâve got another daughter!â
These were the first words my father spoke after I was born. Of course I was just minutes oldâway too little to rememberâbut I have heard the story so often that I really think it is my memory.
It was a hot summer evening, 1891, and thunder could be heard as a storm rolled in from the west.
Papaâs voice was very loudâespecially when he was upset. The words certainly would have come through the door to Mamaâs room, rivaling the thunder for attention.
âSheâs a fine, healthy girl,â Grandmama said. It was she who had brought the bad news. âBe grateful, Albert.â
Papa seemed not to hear her. He looked up at the ceiling. âWhatâs left?â He dropped his hands to his sides in a gesture of hopelessness.
âWeâve got Abigail! Augusta! Arabella! Annabella!â
My father, in his despair, said the names so loudly that my sisters, thinking they had been summoned, rushed into the hall in their nightclothes.
âYou have a sister,â he said.
âA sister?â In my memory they were disappointed as well.
âYes!â
âWhatâs her name?â Abigail asked. As the oldest, she spoke for all of them.
âIâm thinking.â
My father had insisted that his childrenâs names all begin with an A . âWhen I have used up all the beautiful A names, I will move on to B ,â was his explanation.
âThereâs nothing left,â he said.
âDoes this mean you will go on to the B s?â Abigail asked.
I waited in my blanket for my fate. It came, but I was too little to know how I was doomed.
âAmen!â my father pronounced.
There was a silence.
âPapa, thatâs not a name,â Abigail said, âThatâs something you say at the end of a prayer.â
âIt is the end of a prayerâa prayer for a son. Amen!â
âAlbert,â Grandmama said, âyouâre upset. Think about it andââ
âAmen!â
My father ran down the stairs. âAlbert,â Grandmama called after him, âthe storm!â He slammed the screen door as he left the house, driven by his own inner storm.
In her room, my mother kissed my brow. She whispered, âWeâll call you Amie,â in a soothing way.
But in the family Bibleâwhere it countsâit says: Born July 11, 1891, a daughterâAmen McBee.
chapter two
The Bellas and the Parts of a Dog
âB ellas! Bellas! Are you looking after your sister?â
âYes, Aunt Pauline,â the twins called back in unison.
âWell, donât get into any mischief.â
âNo, Aunt Pauline.â
I had just had my third birthday and was, as usual, in the Bellasâ care. The twinsâArabella and Annabellaâwere called the Bellas. No oneânot even Mamaâcould tell them apart.
The Bellas were only two years older than I, but because there were two of them, they seemed twice as smart. They had taken me on as their personal improvement plan and on this day were enlarging my vocabulary.
We were beneath one of the willow trees from which our home got its nameâThe Willows. Keeping us company was Scout, the dog.
âWhat is that?â a Bella said, pointing to the dog.
âChin.â
âA dog doesnât have a chin,â she said.
âHe do.â
âDo not.â
âIt be a little chin, but it do be a chin,â I argued. My grammar wasnât perfect, but I did know the parts to a dog. I had recently learned that everything had a name and gobbled up words the way other three-year-olds gobble sweets.
Scout sat quietly, stoically waiting the outcome of the debate over his chin.
âOh, all right. It be a chin,â a Bella said, stressing my bad grammar.
Scout was Papaâs dog, but heâd had four other little girls teach him patience,
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson