"Kiss Your Elbow" — A Kentucky Memoir

This short excerpt describes only one of the problems we faced when we lived in Lexington Indiana for a short period. We kids and Mama loved it there, so we tried hard to make things work out:

Even with all the problems we already knew about in our beautiful home, life there turned out to be a bit harder than we planned. Soon, we noticed that the water from our cistern tasted funny. Lexington didn’t have city water; all the homeowners were responsible for their own supply. The county health inspector came out to check ours.

“Yes, Mrs. O’Daniel, you have pigeons roosting in your gutters,” he said. “All their business is rained down into the water in your cistern. You need to boil it for fifteen minutes every time you use it.”

“What a nuisance,” Mama told him, “We had the same problem at Goldsmith Lane, and I hated it! We never had to boil water in the country,” she complained. I remembered that problem on Goldsmith Lane and didn’t like it either. Boiled water tasted flat, and it was never cooling to me on a hot day. Sadly, when I heard the way Mama said this, I felt betrayed. For the first time, I feared maybe things weren’t going to work out in our wonderful new home, no matter how much I wanted to stay here. I had trusted my parents to figure things out and make them okay for us. Now, I was scared they weren’t going to be able to.

Luckily, Daddy wasn’t fed up. Mama told him the bad news when he returned from Louisville on Friday, and he reminded her, “Josephine, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. In Gethsemane we had a spring at the bottom of the hill, you had to carry the water up the hill. I think you should count your blessings.” He wanted no complaints, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was still on my side. If he didn’t stay at Aunt Bertha’s most of the time, he’d be as aggravated as Mama is, I realized.

In Lexington, our neighbors were very important to us. Mr. Sanders told Mama about a well in the basement, that the former resident used. “It gets its water from the water table, so there’s no trouble with pigeons.” He told her.

On the next Saturday, Daddy took Johnny and me down there to find it. The basement looked more like a dungeon than part of a house to me. The walls were thick limestone, and the dirt floor showed occasional stepping stones. The darkness felt spooky. Cobwebs hung from the rafters above us. There were steep, wooden steps going down, with a wobbly banister along side. This scary place made the root cellar at Goldsmith Lane look like a playpen. Johnny and I were the only ones big enough to take turns going down there and bring up the buckets of water that Mama needed in the kitchen.

Daddy wouldn’t let us use the flashlight, which was only kept for emergency use. He didn’t consider this an emergency. “Your eyes will adjust,” he said. “Pretty soon you’ll know the path by heart.” He only turned on his flashlight when we reached the dirt floor. I had to wait for my eyes to adjust and I didn’t like what I saw. Not far from the bottom of the steps, was a stream that ran through the dirt of the basement floor. It came from a spring and always flowed, depending on how much rain we had. Daddy shined his flashlight on the water, as he searched through the cavern for the well that Mr. Sanders had described.

The water was black and looked like some writhing monster. “This water is alive!” I screamed, pointing. There were so many salamanders living in it that it bounced and churned as they whipped and thrashed over each other. I caught my breath, watching them twist and turn. “Don’t be a scardey-cat, Deanna,” Daddy said calmly, crouching down to see what I was screaming about. “They’re not going to hurt you. Salamanders don’t bite humans. They’re just water-puppies,” he smiled, trying to make me find them adorable. Impossible, I cringed.

“Deanna is a chicken! Deanna is a chicken!” Johnny chanted. I guess I was and I didn’t care. Knowing that I would hate this job, I wished with all my might that I didn’t have to do it.

Being stronger than me, Johnny ran through the stream when it was his turn to carry the water buckets. The salamanders never bothered him. But, I found the buckets heavy and moved slower. They swam around and between my legs. In the darkness, their long tails felt just like snakes. Screaming, I found this job terrifying, and it almost had me discouraged. Not wanting to let Mama down, and not wanting to move from our mansion, I did it and prayed to St. Christopher like Mama told me to, every time I descended the steps.

During a game of Frozen Catchers at recess, I noticed a hand pump in the schoolyard. Even though it was more work to carry the water buckets from that distance, when it was my turn to get the water, I did it gladly, proud of being able to help Mama. Bringing water into the kitchen was an important job. Now, I’m as good as Johnny, I bristled, straightening my shoulders, and smiling to myself.

Lexington Graded School was a great experience for me. Mama loved it that Johnny and I got to come home for lunch. The school had no cafeteria. Since some of the country kids had to walk pretty far, we got a whole hour off. I loved seeing Mama during the day, and the progress she was continuing to make on our “mansion.” Happy to see us too, she really depended on our help since Daddy was gone all week.