The Tale of Swannie O'Teale By Cathy W. I wish things was different. I ain't seen Nathan in nigh two months but mayhap that's fer the best, since even when he comes home he don't stay ‘round fer long. He don't like young-uns; they make him right onery. He likes that thar moonshine more than his fam'ly and hit always takes him over. I recollect onct when Smith wasn't but a little-un and he crawled t' Nathan's jug. He near ‘bout spilled it over and I was thinkin' t' myself that he was gonna get the tar beatin' out'n him. I scooped him up real quick-like and held him t' my shoulder. He cried somethin' fierce while Nathan hooted and hollered like t' shake the whole cove. Smith carried on and I couldn't quiet him none. I tried tellin' Nathan that it weren't the little-un's fault. He was only a tiny babe and didn't know no better, but he paid me no mind. He took his gun and his jug o' moonshine and was gone lickety-split. I didn't see hide or hair o' him for ‘bout two months. We was starvin', down t' the last o' the flour and the butter what had already turned. He came in like he had just been huntin' and thar was nothin' more to hit and carried on. He didn't start apologizin' or nothin'. He just sat down in his chair and said, "Woman, I want me some vittles. I'm bodaciously tired out." That's when I knowed he didn't care for no one but hisself. Our son had growed and started walkin', and I'd done missed my man even if he was a mean'un and tough as a laurel burl. But none o' that mattered t' him. I cleaned up the cabin real nice and cooked my best persimmon pie. He said not one word t' me. I knowed then I didn't do right t' marry Nathan. I was a full-growed gal-woman when I first saw Nathan, a-huntin' in the woods. I figgered I was gonna be one o' them ol' spinsters who's never married. All the gals my age was already hitched with babes and little-uns runnin' ‘round. I weren't purty or smart and none o' the fellas looked at me twice. ‘Sides, there wasn't none I was swoonin' over. Then I seen Nathan. He wasn't a handsome'un, but he looked at me like I was special. I says to myself, "This here's the man I'm gonna marry." And we was soon after. He wanted hisself a gal-woman t' take care o' him, he told me. But things wasn't right from the get-go. He was missin' for days and he got rip-roarin' mad over the least things. I weren't happy no way, but then I found out I was gonna have me a young'un. I was so happy I was fit to burst. Nathan weren't. He said it was just gonna be another mouth t' feed, but I didn't care. I'da starve if I have t' for this'un to be born, I says to him. I had me a man-child and I figgered he'd be satisfied. When he got older, he could help his pa. But like I was sayin' earlier, Nathan don't like children and got right tetchious. I wish he was a lovin'-type man who plays with his young-uns. I wish he was the type o' man a body could be proud of, that I would be proud to say, "This here's my man." Instead, he's the type o' man folks call "a real ogre." Now, I cain't recollect to myself what an ogre be, but the way folks say it it don't sound like it's nice. I used t' be different afore I married Nathan. I was a right pert girl, always smilin' and fancy-free. I had me my daydreamin's and my hopes. Now I disremember when last I smiled. I don't got many friends no more either. Fairlight comes t' see me when her knowin' tells her I need it, but otherwise folks try an' avoid me. Part of it is ‘cause the O'Teales is supposed t' have betrayed Bonnie Prince Charlie, but t'other part is I make ‘em sad. E'er since I married Nathan, my worries been weighin' me down. I used to keep my mama an' pa's cabin right neat an' clean when I helped my mama as a girl, but now I cain't seem to get our cabin clean a-tall. Some days I could just be a slug-abed all the day long an' ne'er get out'n bed. But I gotta provide for my young-uns. Now that Smith is a man now, he goes out huntin' for squirrel afore school. When he was still a little-un, I had t' do it. Sometimes it took me near ‘bout the day long just to rassle up a possum, ‘cause I'm not too good with a gun. I'm right glad Smith is a man now ‘cause I raised him right and he knows how t' provide fer his fam'ly. The only thing what keeps me goin' is knowin' my young-uns could do better for theirselves. I'm real glad Miz Christy has come t' teach here. My young-uns is getting good larnin' thar at that school. My Smith kin read hisself a full book just burstin' with words. Orter Ball, why, he could be a doctor-man if'n he just puts his mind t' it. He's comin' home all the time chatterin' on ‘bout Doc MacNeill showed us this and the Doc learned us that. And the least-un in school, Mountie, she learned herself to talk finally. That made me the happiest I been in a good long while. I prayed fer a little gal fer so long an' the Lord answered my prayers. Then when she growed some but still didn't talk, I got t' thinkin' mebbe she weren't right in the head. There's been them in the Cove who had little-uns who was addlepated and died when they was still small. Nathan said that he didn't want no one fussin' over some gal. ‘Course, I couldn't go ‘gainst my man so I just hushed up ‘bout it an' prayed. Nathan, he ain't no church-goin' man and don't put no stock in the Lord. I had done gave up and figgered she weren't ne'er gonna talk, but I let her go to school thinkin' it couldn't hurt her none. If'n she weren't right in the head she wouldn't be no help t' me anyways. Then she come runnin' through that door like her legs was carryin' her on the wind and yelled, "Look at my buttons!" I near ‘bout keeled over dead right then and thar. That teacher done Mountie good. I'm proud of my young-uns for doin' so good in school. I know they ain't always got ‘nough t' eat, but I try my best. If'n they keep doin' so good mebbe they kin get theirselves good jobs in the level-lands. They kin make ‘nough cash-money t' have full bellies and even shoes. They could even be dignified city-folk with hats and shoes and more'n two pairs o' clothes. That's what I dream ‘bout at night when I have time fer my thoughts t' go free. I also dream of Mountie finding herself a good man what kin provide for his fam'ly an' loves her like a man is supposed t' love his woman. Nathan don't look at me all starry-like like I'm one o' them angels come down right here in this cove. I seen Jeb Spencer look at Fairlight that way in church when he don't think no one's watchin'. Nathan, when he comes home, jus' usually wants some food and then fer me t' do my wifely duty. He don't look like his heart goes pitter-patter a-tall fer me. Our young-uns wasn't born from love like many of t'others in the cove was. I feel bad fer my young-uns ‘cause they don't know what it's like fer a pa to love them. Wal, I reckon I don't neither. My pa always used t' say I was a miserable good-fer-nothin'. I guess he mought be right. I wish things was different.