Photo taken October 2012 by R.T. Dickinson outside Bamberg, SC of my father and son.
He was no one’s child. He was everyone’s child. Wrapped in his first blanket, the baby lay in a crib carved by the pastor. The man smiled. Eyes – the color of ashen storm clouds at dawn – stared at him.
“Can he see me?” the pastor asked his wife.
He ran his finger over the small, soft brown hand.
“Maybe, Eth,” replied his wife. “He’s a new baby. He’ll see things close to his face in a few days.”
“I bet he’ll be a smart boy.”
“Only time will tell,” said his wife as she pulled a needle through the collar of one of his work shirts.
Pastor Eth Benedict stood from his spot next to the crib. He looked at his wife. Lily May Benedict had not wanted this child. She had not wanted to move to the town in the valley near the Little Salkehatchie River. She had not wanted many things in her life with Eth.
Sample from The Unclaimed in the Red Loam Stories
Photos and Words by R.T. Dickinson
© 2006-2013 by R.T. Dickinson. All rights reserved. No part of The Unclaimed, Sons of the Edisto, Red Loam stories, manuscripts or related material may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of R.T. Dickinson.
Corrie's Season 