people?” asked Hatta reaching for Jake’s hand and nudging him.
“I sure do and I bury them too,” chuckled Mister Thompson. “Who wants to get married?”
Sarah Alice prayed, “Dear Lord, please let it be Jake, not Lott, please not Lott.”
Jake placed his arm around Hatta and pulled her close to his side.
“It’s us, Preacher. We been together for over two years, and ain’t been nobody come by to marry us. I want to marry this woman,” Jake shyly replied.
“Mister Thompson, we have son too. We want preacher to bless family,” Hatta said.
Sarah was elated as she pulled on her father’s coat to encourage a positive response, “Sure he’ll marry you two. He does it every day.”
“Sarah Alice, that decision will be mine. I don’t need yore help young lady,” replied Mister Thompson, somewhat peeved at her brashness.
“But yes, I’ll marry you two when you get ready, but you’ll have to go to the county seat in Decatur and register it. I’ll take care of God’s part, and you two take care of the gov’ment regulations.”
A week later, the community’s first revival was held, and sermons were delivered from the front porch of the Wilsons’ home. An unexpected crowd turned out each evening and went away filled with the spirit, and a few of them went away filled with some of Jake’s special spirit—corn whiskey.
Reverend Thompson brought a pump organ to the meeting, and everyone was impressed at how Sarah Alice could play any song that was requested. On the first night when Sarah began the introduction to a hymn, Red and Sourdough began to howl so loudly the whole congregation broke out in laughter. The highlight of the final night of the revival that ran for seven evenings, was the plaintive voice of Hatta as she sang “Amazing Grace” in her native Choctaw language. This time, even the dogs felt a special reverence and stayed quiet.
Even though some of the settlers frowned on Jake for living with Hatta, they had learned to respect the Wilsons and also accepted Hatta because there wasn’t a kinder or harder working woman in the community.
During the revival, the Thompsons stayed in the Wilsons’ home. This gave Lott and Sarah a chance to spend time together. Each day they would walk the fields and meadows together, take horseback rides into the open woods and at night sit for hours on the front porch until Reverend Thompson called Sarah to bed.
Lott had always been fascinated with Hatta’s beauty and personality, but in Sarah, he discovered in himself a deep love and affection. In Sarah’s eyes and touch, he knew she cared for him. On Christmas eve of 1836, four months after their meeting, Lott and Sarah were married.
They lived on one side of the house and Jake and his family lived across the hall. Homer enjoyed the best of both families. He would often cross the hall and spend the night with Lott and Sarah and at times wander from bedroom to bedroom making this a night time game.
“Jake, can you hear me?” questioned Lott one night from deep up under the covers.
“Sure can brother. What ya want?” muttered Jake from across the open hall.
“You want some nephews or nieces someday?”
“I could stand a few, I guess,” replied Jake.
“Then you need to keep H-O-M-E-R in yore bed and out of ours.”
Jake and Hatta snickered, because they could hear Sarah scolding Lott for discussing their sex life so openly.
The cold dreary days soon began to lengthen as the spring of 1837 came to the hillcountry bringing a luster of wildflowers, blossoms and a sense of renewed life.
On one of these days the two families rode to Decatur to visit Sarah’s parents and to pick up needed farm items before spring plowing. Upon returning home, they were shocked to see Mister McCorkle, their old surveying boss, sitting on their front porch whittling on a stick and whistling some unrecognizable tune.
“Thought you never would get home,” Mister Mac said, as the Wilsons pulled up to the porch. “And who all you got with ya? Where’d you find them good lookin’ things out here in these sticks?”
Jake leaped out of the wagon even before it had come to a complete stop and sprinted out in front of the horses to greet his old friend.
“Question is, where the hell you come from, you old codger?” replied Jake, as he picked up Mister Mac like he was weightless and whirled him around. “Them hounds ought to have eat ya up ‘fore you got on the porch.”
“Put me down, you overgrown ox! I’m gettin’ old and my bones might break. And them so called bad hounds of yores ain’t nothin’ but house cats. I hollered one time and they took off under the house, tails tucked.”
After introducing their families, Lott asked, “Mister Mac, did you get to see Mamma? How’s she doing?” As they settled in front of a fresh crackling fire, Mister Mac replied, “Boys, I got good and bad news. What ya want first?” He took a big breath and filled his pipe.
“Mister Mac, don’t fool with us when we talkin’ about Mamma. This here is serious bus’ness,” scolded Jake.
“I’m sorry, boys. I forgot it’s been so long since you two has seen her.”
“Well first, she’s doin’ fine and is as healthy as ever. That’s the good news and the bad news is she’s going to marry ‘Fessor Johnson.”
“Johnson! That son of a bitch had me kicked out of school,” shouted Jake, enraged at the thought. “She must have gone crazy or sump’n. Damn, that makes my stomach turn.”
Lott, usually calm in such situations, suddenly became angry and grabbed a piece of firewood and hurled it at Jake barely missing him.
“Jake, I’ll tell you sump’n. You is the son of a bitch, and Mister Johnson didn’t get ya kicked out of school. Yore sorriness done it for ya. He’s a fine man, and if he loves Mamma and wants to take care of her, we ought to be proud for both of them. You ought to be ashamed of yoreself.”
Jake was shocked at his brother’s reaction. This hadn’t happened since they were children in Savannah. Jake quickly realized he had over-reacted.
“Lott, you didn’t have to throw that stick at me. You could’ve hurt me,” Jake said, as he straightened himself and tried to think of what to say to make amends.
In seconds, Sarah, Hatta, and Homer appeared to see what was happening.
“What in tarnation is goin’ on in here!” exclaimed Sarah looking the room over to see what caused the racket.
Mister Mac was leaning as far back in his chair as possible to avoid any melee and held his pipe behind his back to protect his treasured smoke.
Lott and Jake were glaring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move.
“That man over there throwed a piece of wood at me,” Jake said. “And it almost hit me.”
“Lott, you have never done sump’n like that to Jake before. What has come over you?” questioned Sarah.
“I throwed it and I wish it had got him, too,” muttered Lott, still angry.
“Jake, what you do to make Lott this mad?” questioned Hatta. “You talk ugly to him?”
“Naw, Mister Mac says Mamma’s gettin’ married to ‘Fessor Johnson, and Lott was takin’ up for him,” answered Jake who was now feeling embarrassed about the fuss he and Lott had made in front of Mister Mac and the family.
“Jake, is he bad man, this Johnson?” continued Hatta. “Does he steal or kill someone?”
“Naw, he don’t do none of them things.”
“I don’t see why you boys ain’t happy about yore mamma’s marriage. Ever since I known you,