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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required IV. But the jokes all stopped cold six months later when her belly swelled up, big, full, and round. It was a scandal, her dad was enraged, a rash of whispered words ran through the town. Rennie didn’t care about the rumors, her money insulated her from such, but she did worry what her pa might do, until she was blessed with a tragic luck. While leading his men down a brand new shaft, the dark earth rumbled, and crushed Arthur flat, three other people died in the cave-in, it was the town’s darkest day, that’s a fact. And though Rennie mourned as good people did, she also felt a real sense of relief, with her father gone she had naught to fear, all the worries she felt quickly ceased. When her baby came the people still talked, but Rennie would not pay them any mind, her dad left no will, she inherited all, and most of the town worked deep in her mines. Nor did she care when it happened again, and her stomach once more swelled with child, folks whispered ‘bastard’ and wondered what sort of woman let herself be so ‘defiled.’ But they kept their words low, she was a good boss, had increased the pay of all her workers, gave them Sundays off for family and church, such an arrangement they would not disturb. For years it continued, ten children in all, reports of dark men sneaking to the house, it became a game to guess who they were, some fools even claimed the honor out loud. Though those that did quickly found themselves jobless, soon few were brave enough to make such claims, the town tolerated their ‘rich harlot’ since she kept opening up brand new veins. But then one day in 1917 she was seen bawling out on her front porch, most figured it was because her youngest had been drafted to fight in the Great War. But the fates were kind, and young Kent came home, a little shell-shocked, but no worse for wear, still Rennie seemed like she had lost a step, was always half-mired with real despair. Nobody would notice until years later that no men crept to her house in darkness, but Rennie was well into her sixties, so nobody would have been surprised by this. In 1923 she died in her sleep, all her children knew what was in her will, they rode out on horses with the town priest, into the mountains' brisk, October chill. They rode with her body through rocky clefts, through wilderness paths that no other knew, then came to a remote box canyon where the stunned preached stopped, and took in this view: CONCLUDES IN PART V.
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