Page 128 of Don't Back Down

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March—Pope Mountain

Shirley Pope’s heart was pounding as she and her sons drove their little convoy through the bustling tourist town of Jubilee, located in the valley below Pope Mountain. She was coming back to her roots, and they were almost at the end of their journey.

Shirley and B.J. were in the lead.

Aaron was in his SUV behind his mother.

Sean was behind Aaron, driving his car, and Wiley was in his car behind Sean and just ahead of the moving van bringing up the rear.

B.J.’s Harley was in the moving van, and he’d been riding shotgun with his mother all the way.

It had been far too long since Shirley had made this trip. Her eyes were full of tears, but they weren’t tears of joy. She was crying because there was no one left to welcome them home.

Even though six weeks had passed since they’d received the news, Shirley was still in shock that it had happened. Her mother had seemed invincible, even immortal, and had been Shirley’s steadfast backup through her abusive marriage with Clyde Wallace. Helen had always been the gentle voice and the deep wisdom Shirley needed in times of strife.

As they were driving out of Conway, Shirley had made a call to Annie, letting her know they were on the way. But it had taken two long days of traveling before they met their moving van in Frankfort this morning to lead the way home.

This was the last leg of a long trip. They didn’t know what lay ahead, but anything would be better than what they’d left behind.

Shirley’s sons only knew what she’d told them about her side of the family. Thanks to their dad, their visits to Kentucky had been few and far between. But they knew their ancestors had lived in this place since the early 1800s. And they knew this mountain they were now driving up bore their family name. Here, in this place, they hoped to regain their sense of self. To be proud of who they were again. And one day, know that their mother was no longer crying herself to sleep.

From the moment they’d started up the tree-covered mountain, B.J quit talking and became wide-eyed and quiet—too quiet. After the four-lane highways and the busy streets of their city, the two-lane blacktop on which they were traveling seemed little more than a trail cut through a wilderness. Shirley was worried he was not happy about her decision.

“So, B.J., what do you think?” she asked, then heard him sigh.

“I think it feels safe here.”

She smiled. “Good. Hold that feeling,” she said and kept on driving. A few miles later, she began slowing down and flipped on her turn signal. “There’s where we turn.”

One by one, the vehicles behind her did the same as she left the blacktop and began following the gravel road up into the trees.

The house was a hundred yards back, all but buried in the woods. As soon as she passed the twin pines, she saw the house, and then gasped at the sight of a half-dozen cars in the yard and a whole row of people lining the front porch.

“Mama, who are those people?” B.J. asked, as she parked off to the side.

Shirley shivered, seeing herself in their faces. The high cheekbones. The dark hair. The women’s curves. The men’s broad shoulders.

“Some of our family. Look at them. That’s why you’re all so tall. That’s where your dark hair comes from. Look at them, and you’ll see yourself.”

“Oh wow,” B.J. whispered.

One by one, her sons parked, but when they got out, they headed straight for Shirley, as did the people coming off the porch. After that, they were surrounded, fielding hugs and handshakes.

Then one man who stood a head above the rest spoke up from the crowd.

“Shirley, I’m Cameron Pope, your aunt Georgia’s oldest son. This is my wife, Rusty. Welcome home.”

Shirley was crying. “You were just a boy last time I saw you. These are my sons, Aaron, Sean, Wiley, and Brendan Pope, but we call him B.J.”

Cameron smiled. “Another Brendan, huh? Named after the man who started us all. Good to have some more Pope men on this mountain. I’ve been the only man left with that name since my father’s passing.”

And just like that, Shirley’s sons took their first steps into the family.

Annie Cauley slipped up behind Shirley and whispered in her ear. “We cleaned the house. You have food in your refrigerator. The appliances have been serviced. John will show the boys around outside. You come in now and sit where it’s cool while you tell the movers where you want to put your things. After your call, and mentioning your sons were bringing their own things, we took down the old beds in the spare rooms and stored them all in the attic. Your mom’s living room furniture was past hope. She’d written in her last wishes to have it donated, so there’s plenty of room now for your stuff. And don’t worry. All the family heirlooms are still where she had them. The cupboard. The pie safe. The sideboard. And your great-grandpa’s old secretary desk. We’ll have you set up and comfy before nightfall.”

Walking into the old home place without her mother to greet her was bittersweet, but Shirley took the home as the blessing it was, and by the time night fell, the moving van was long gone. All her sons had their own beds up in their own rooms, and she had her things around her again. Clothes were unpacked and put away, and they’d just sat down to supper at the kitchen table.

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