Under the Mahogany tree

8/7/2019 Under the Mahogany tree

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Denis

Kirkman - Moriarty

Under The Mahogany Tree


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JOSHUA

Whenever a letter arrives, I hope its from him. To say hes sorry for

all that hes missed in my life, but hell be there for me from now on to

do whatever it is that a Pa is expected to do. Hell kiss ma, tuck me in

and tell me hes real proud o me, he sho is. Yet, Its never from my

mysterious Pa that my mother never talks to me about.

What just dropped in Joshua? Ma cries from the kitchen.

We got some mail ma? Can I open it?

Ma comes in from the kitchen smelling of potatoes and home.

Her scent is one both of gentle happiness and loneliness. I know it

aint a loneliness Ill ever fill, its something lodged deep that none I

know can fix. Its been there long as I can remember, maybe when I

crawled outtaher the hole never closed up and its all my fault.

How many times I tell you Joshua, if it dont have your name

on it you got no right touchin it. Ma picks up the letter, looks it over


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and her eyes go wide, as if something was trying to gain entrance to

her heart through her eyes.

I peek over her shoulders. Though Im boy of fifteen I plenty

taller then Ma already.

Ma? Who that addressed to? Whos Dewey Dell?

Someone I done tried forget. I look down to her face. As her

eyes are fixated on the crude heading in the left hand-corner, she sees

something beside the name scrawled so crudely on the page. If you

look close enough, you see fire bouncin off her eyes. The deeper and

deeper you look, you start to feel the singe, and the crosses adorned

all over this house are slowly engulfed with the flames that go

bouncing off mas eyes.

Ma? Who Anse?

A man I done tried to forget.

Ma stiffly walks around the corner and goes back to her

sanctuary of a kitchen.


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CASH

Chairs. Just finished trees that still smelled of the saw and the

water dried out of the wood to make it sturdy. They were well made,

sturdy beautiful chairs. Crafted em for Mr. and Mrs. Talble, good

people with no kids. They near adopted me as their own so whenever

I went over they were sure I left fed. Beautiful people.

Mahogany. Used the old mahogany tree bout an acre back on

the farm to make the chairs. Nothing on this earth stronger than

mahogany. My leg made out mahogany, closest things to veins I got is

splinters. I crafted that leg out of the same tree, and whittled it for a

year. I carved it perfect because you cant have someone whittle you a

limb and expect it to be perfect. Its something to do yourself,

something gotta do yourself. Every night Id go back to the shop and

carve that piece of wood. It grew in definition and beauty as days pass,

like watching your own child mature from infant to mirror of you.


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Finally, one lonely summer night I dropped my saw to the

ground and looked on my creation. Closest thing Id ever have to a

son, and cared for nothing more than this one leg.

Ive sat in chairs, but no chairs like these just made. My legs

and his legs start to breathe and they say we of the same tree an acre

back and we were meant to stay together till our branches wilted and

the rain never came you were once gone but now we are together

again as we were meant to be from ever. I stand and my leg is no

longer part of the Mahogany tree, but just a battered old leg made out

of mahogany, with splinters for veins. No more.

Mail scarce here, yet today came a letter from an old, sick tree.

Yes mold grows on its trunk and its branches are twisted with greed

and selfishness but if you look real close to the trunk you can see the

niche from when I was cut out and made to be myself.

Im about to fall, fall down to the harsh unforgiving grass after so many

years of standing crooked with no support I want to feel whole one more

time just one more time before I fall. Please come back so I can be whole

I give the Talbles their chairs and hitch up their wagon.

Cash! Where you goin in such a hurry? Mrs. made a cake for

the anniversary, and its too big for the two!

Im goin to Jefferson. Im gonna see mahogany from what I

was carved long ago then come back to be Cash. No more.


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DEWEY DELL

Firewood stove go up turn the switch so the fire dont go burn

so fast. Beef steak in stove done picketed up from Dont you dare

forget put potatoes in pot to boil Dewey Dell. Godammit I aint got no

potatoes from shep at the market and now I done his without gotten

potatoes for the boil in the pot.

How dare he try to come back take the steaks out check them

come back into our lives after do you know what he tried do. Joshua

get out of the-

Joshua! Getcho hands outta the trash. You know better than

that. Now now go wash your hands gain. Go on, skat.

My boy runs feels no chords ripping at his flesh like the rest us

do. What the rest us do to feel this kind loss.


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Ma, this man dying. Who is he?

Head loss panic Jesus please help me in this time of need

please.

Just some old man who used to live next to us. Now go wash

your hands.

He keeps callin you daughter. Who is this man ma?

Just a crazy boy who lived next to me while I growed up.

Look me in the eyes and say that ma. Look me in the eyes.

Lord give me the strength to shield my son from that mans

clut-

I had never noticed how ridiculously similar my Joshua was to

Darl. The same cheeks, the same stare to yo soul that seems to rip you

inside.

Hes my pa. fine. He always call me Dewey Dell, but my name

is not Dewey Dell.

He wants see you again Ma. See you before he die. Give you

inheritance.

Inheritance. The money that he owed me from so long go?

Maybe more? No more payin on goodwill?

He might know my Pa.

Boy. You look at me and hear me. For nothing I ever told you

is truer than this that I always told you. Your father is Jesus, and you

should live by his word. Now go clean yo hands for dinner. We going,

but you ask nobody bout yo pa. To return. To return from my new life


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to everything I was that I hope no longer is. Return to Jefferson.

Return to Dewey Dell Bundren.

Ma? How we getting there?

Well walk.


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VARDAMAN

Everybody got up and left after we took her to the ground.

They all went up that wagon and left. The new Mrs. aint horrible, but

she got too many rule. She cooks nice and her music sweet but her

notes crooked. And she cant swim a train goes past. I in the field

playing and I see the train. I hear Darl. I hear my brother callin to me,

to come to the train and come with him. I aint never been on no train

before.


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JEWEL

The two us, Adelai and me ride up to the front of the spiffy

Jefferson house. It was originally white, but now it holds a decaying

shade of grey. The windows once clean are now coated in god knows.

The yard unkempt and the tree in the back nearly going through the

windows. A sense of forboding washes over. A sense of dread takes

control of me for the sake of my son. I feel that the troubles that we

will encounter in the house will be worse than anything then this

family has endured. Yet, I take one step forward, and another. Adelai

walks by my side, my guide in the dark so I may see my way out of

here. My beautiful boy who Is my salvation. I look down and realize he

will save me from the water and from the water and from the fire.

Even though I have yet to lay down my life, I know he will do this for

me.


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About the author

Under the Mahogany tree is the first in five entries of a sequel

to the acclaimed novel as I lay dying. The next four parts will be

announced at a later date. The writer of the new sequel has read the

books sections repeatedly to make sure that the integrity of the

characters and their distinct personalities are kept intact. Although

we havent met him yet in this novel, Anse will be playing a major

emotional role that serves as a catalyst. Why Vardaman only takes

place in the past will become clear, and the reasons for Anses

reunion will become clear. The reason the author decided to write a

sequel instead of making a pretty picture is a lengthy one. Mainly, he

felt the characters were so rich and vibrant that he didnt need to

make a memorial honoring them, they had plenty of life left over after

the pages ended in the first novel. Many characters have tried to

change themselves away from being a Bundren, yet none of them can

escape its grip. Or the chance to feel the damp soil under the

Mahogany tree just one more time. But before they can become Cash,

Jewel, Joshua, Dewey Dell and Adelai, they will have to once again

embrace their history and become a family of Bundrens.

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Under the Mahogany tree