Stacking the Odds

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Old Gods of Appalachia presents

stacking the odds,

a tale for the season.

Bower County, West Virginia,

December 21st,

1939.

Bower County lay under a light blanket of snow that sparkled in the sunlight as Nina Jennings steered her car carefully up the road that wound around Oak Mountain to her mama's house.

Snow flurries had come the previous afternoon, growing a little heavier after dusk, but by morning the skies cleared and the sun shone down, melting the snow from the roads and making her visit possible.

There were still a few icy patches in the areas where the trees cast more shade than the weak winter sun could penetrate, so she took her time.

But But most of the trip had been easy, even pleasant as she drove through a sparkling winter wonderland.

The trunk of Nina's Packard held presents wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with ribbons of red and green yarn, a huge tin filled with sausage balls, and two long strands of cranberry and popcorn she'd strung together over the course of the last few evenings.

Tonight, her family would gather to celebrate the winter solstice and trim the Christmas tree as they had every year since she could remember.

And They would not exchange gifts until Christmas Eve, but as Nina had finished wrapping all her gifts, she figured it was best to go ahead and bring them over and put them under the tree.

Her cat, Mr.

Biscuit, had an unfortunate habit of chewing the paper off the packages as well as a fondness for yarn.

Nina pulled her car to a stop in front of the tidy white farmhouse.

Its bright blue shutters and matching rocking chairs gleamed in the sunlight with the fresh coat of paint her cousin Tobias had applied that summer.

She began unpacking the car, loading up her arms with as much as she could safely carry.

The front door was unlocked, so she let herself inside, calling out a greeting as she crossed the threshold.

Mama, I'm here.

Mary Gold Underwood, matriarch of the Underwood family and fire of the mountain, known to just about everybody around these parts as Granny Underwood, hollered to her from the back of the house.

I'm in the kitchen, darling.

Well, I told you about slamming my door.

Sorry, Mama.

Got my arms full.

I couldn't catch it.

Mary Gold emerged from the kitchen to help her daughter, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

She'd tied her hair up in a kerchief and her apron was liberally dusted with flour.

As Nina carried in an armload of gifts, she caught the door behind her and closed it gently.

I see Tobias has already brought the tree.

I didn't see his truck outside.

He went out and cut one dime for me yesterday.

Had to work this morning.

He should be here directly.

The furniture in Mary Gold Underwood's parlor had been rearranged to accommodate a tall, lush, balsam fir that was placed in a bucket of water in front of the bay window.

The bucket had been cleverly concealed behind a draping of a pretty red and green plaid flannel upon which Nina would eventually arrange the gifts she'd brought for the family.

For now, she placed him in the hall closet so they wouldn't be underfoot during the tree trimming that evening.

Where's that son-in-law of mine?

I thought you said Calvin was coming with you.

He's over at the school.

He decided the children could use one last rehearsal before the show on Saturday.

Calvin Jennings was the teacher at the Booker School, a single-room wooden structure in Cayborough which provided education for black children in Bayer County aged 5 to 12.

He had taken the position after he finished his training when Nina's brother-in-law Victor was promoted to superintendent of the county school district.

As the sole instructor at the Booker, Calvin was responsible for everything from developing each day's multiple lesson plans to preparing school lunches to providing janitorial services, and this year, for directing the school's first annual Christmas pageant, the first he hoped of many more to come.

Hmm, he surely does love those children.

He does.

He's a great teacher.

He would have made a good father if we've ever had any of our own.

There's still time, if the Lord wills it.

But it may be God just has other plans for you, baby.

Nina Jennings found she was not particularly disappointed that the home she and Calvin shared had not been blessed with children.

When they had first married, they tried for a baby, but months and eventually years passed, and Nina never found herself with child.

Her heart ached as she'd watched their friends and peers welcome new life into the world, and she saw the longing in her husband's eye.

Calvin's mother had died when he was little more than an infant, and his daddy never remarried.

And while his father had several siblings, and thus there were always plenty of cousins around to play with at family gatherings, Calvin had grown up a little lonely.

His daddy was a kind man, a loving father, but their home was a quiet place, haunted by his grief.

And Calvin dreamed of having a family of his own to fill his house with laughter and games and music and light, and it had hurt, feeling she couldn't make that dream come true for him.

As the years passed, however, and she watched as her peers grew tired and worn down by the sheer work of raising children, the constant pressure of making ends meet, and the fear for their futures that kept them awake at night, Nina began to think perhaps it had been a blessing in disguise for her, if not for Calvin.

The life of a mother looked utterly exhausting to her, and she wasn't at all certain she was cut out for it.

She found she was quite happy with the life they enjoyed together.

Their evenings spent curled up by the fire playing cards or board games, listening to radio programs or reading books, volunteering with the church, helping her own mother with the work she did for their community.

And thus she had taken her mama's advice to heart.

If they were meant to have a child, then a child would come when the time was right.

And if not, then it simply wasn't meant to be.

Calvin will be along later this evening.

You're coming to watch the Christmas pageant, aren't you, Mama?

Why, I wouldn't miss it.

It's not every day a woman gets to see her son-in-law's directorial debut.

Don't you dare tell him that.

That man is already planning how he can make the show bigger and better next year.

He don't need you giving him a big head.

I'll tell him whatever I want.

The two women continued bantering back and forth in the comfortable way of mothers and daughters while Nina finished unloading the Packard.

Though the majority of the Underwood clan would not arrive until around six that evening, Nina and Tobias had promised to come early to help with preparations.

Their annual solstice celebration was a potluck, and everyone would bring a dish or two, but there was still plenty to do.

Tobias would bring hollyboughs and mistletoe and other decorative items from nature that needed hanging.

Chairs would need to be brought into the parlor from other rooms or fetched up from the basement to ensure everybody had a place to sit.

The good china had to be set out and the silverware polished, and of course there was the bacon.

Marigold had spent the past few days making cakes, pies, and a seemingly endless array of cookies.

There were the holiday staples, pecan and mince meat pies, fruit cakes, and bourbon balls, and then, of course,

there was her famous apple stack cake.

Granny Underwood's stack cake was a thing of legend.

Consisting of twelve impossibly thin golden layers of molasses-flavored cake, each slathered with a healthy coating of spiced apple butter and sealed with yet another layer of the same.

The cake had been wrapped and allowed to set for the past couple of days to soften and allow the glorious flavors to properly combine.

Tradition held that the cake had to be tasted by at least 12 different people on the same day it was cut to ensure good luck for the following year.

For most folks, that part was little more than superstition.

But a stack cake baked by Marigold Underwood, huh?

huh?

That was another matter altogether.

It was one of the many subtle layers of protection she had been weaving around her family since she was just a new bride, and it worked.

It also tasted like pure heaven.

So it had never been too much trouble to find 12 people willing to eat it.

The difficulty was making it last through the 12th.

As Nina pulled a spare apron from the hook on the back of the kitchen door and tied it around her waist, the sound of tires crunching on gravel reached their ears.

That'll be Tobias.

Nina and Marigold headed back into the parlor just as Tobias Underwood walked through the door, dressed in a fluffy red and white Santa suit, complete with stocking cap.

Ho, ho, ho!

Merry Christmas!

The two women laughed delightedly.

Where on earth did you find that?

One of the fellers at work asked for wanted it.

Said he outgrew it.

It's nice, right?

Yes, nephew, you make a right handsome Santa Claus.

But I hope you bought a change of clothes because we got work to do.

Oh oh yeah.

I got my street clothes on underneath it.

I just thought you ladies might like a preview.

Tobias stripped off the Santa suit which was getting a little warm already and the three of them got to work.

Nina and Tobias swept and mopped floors, hung decorations, and saw to the other matters of setting up for the party while Granny Underwood finished the last of her cooking.

By the time family and friends began to arrive, there were candles lit in each window.

The doorways were strung with mistletoe.

The mantle had been draped in boughs of holly and fir, and the sideboard was stocked with an amazing assortment of sweets.

In the dining room, the long table had been set up buffet style, while the chairs had been moved to the parlor.

Nina's sausage balls sat at one end of the table and were soon joined by a wide array of other finger foods, including her older sister's deviled eggs and Tobias's pigs in a blanket, a perennial favorite of the grandchildren.

Marigold's apple stack cake held pride of place, situated on a silver cake tray that had been an anniversary gift from her late husband Lee some years ago.

Mama, your cake looks beautiful.

I don't think I've ever seen you make one so pretty.

Shan't lie, Naughty.

There's one fine-looking cake.

You sure I can't just scooch on in here?

The speed with which Marigold Underwood smacked her nephew's hand away was like the kiss of a hummingbird's wing.

Too fast to be perceived by the eyes of man.

Now on boy, get your hands back.

You know better.

I'll let you know when it's time.

The distribution of Granny Underwood's apple stack cake was serious business.

The 12 slices had to be consumed on the same night, and the baker of the cake could not be the one to eat the first or final slice.

It was preferable that some slices be consumed by blood relations and others by guests, although the precise distribution was of little matter.

This year, Nina and Calvin would have the first two slices.

Tobias would take the third.

The fourth and the fifth were promised to two of Marigold's closer neighbors, Mr.

and Mrs.

Sensiball, who had come to see her regarding their daughter's prospects for marriage in the coming year.

Now this was accomplished by a midnight visit to the pig pen to see whether an old pig or a young pig would speak first.

If an old pig gave the first grunt, then the young woman in question would marry an older man, while a younger pig squealing heralded matrimony with a younger suitor.

And sure enough, a handsome young pig spoke right upon their approach, howling either for slop or for fear that his time had come.

The Sensibas were thrilled, and Marigold had invited them to her annual solstice potluck and tree trimming for a slice of apple stack cake to add a little luck to the girl's prospects.

What she had not mentioned to the Sensibas was that when that porcine prophet had cried out to greet them, she hadn't heard a squeal of the usual sort.

Instead, that little future barbecue had looked her right in the eye and spoke her name,

Marigold.

Just like that.

Marigold.

Granny Underwood had quickly turned away and hurried the Sensiballs along.

In the general run of things, hearing an animal speak could mean any number of things.

Animals speaking near the solstice, however, was a particularly bad omen.

It wasn't as bad as if you sat under a pine tree on Christmas Day, which was a surefire way to make sure you didn't live to see the next one.

But it wasn't good.

Marigold was worried.

The signs had been unclear in every attempt at divination she'd made in the week leading up to the turning of the season, and this didn't help matters.

It had been a long and difficult year for Bower County and the family.

Early in the year, the union had gone on strike at the Cabora mine, a situation that had dragged on for months and resulted in bloodshed on both sides before an agreement was reached and work resumed.

There had been an outbreak of measles, which several of her grandchildren had caught.

Tobias had broken his arm back in in the spring and been laid up out of work for weeks, although to be fair, he had painted the house late that summer by way of helping regain his strength, and it was looking mighty fine.

Her daughter Tilly had endured a rough pregnancy and ended up confined to bed for its two final months, requiring everyone in the family to pitch in and look after her other two young'uns while her husband was at work.

As 1939 drew to a close, however, things had begun to look up.

All she needed now was some little sausage factory bringing bad luck to their door.

While the cake wasn't the only working she would perform to ensure her family's peace in the coming year, she was determined to do everything in her power to ensure it was a success.

Slice number six would go to Mr.

Jenkins, who lived a few miles down the road on the way to town.

Delmar Jenkins, bitter-ass old miser that he was, became an absolute sweetheart from Thanksgiving through Boxing Day.

Marigold figured it because he was half-lit most of the time, but every Christmas Day, for as long as she and Doc had lived on Oak Mountain, that crabby old son bitch had turned up with a dozen eggs and a box of chocolates for their house.

He'd continued this tradition after Doc passed.

Even began dropping off eggs every now and again, otherwise checking in on her.

So he too had earned his spot at the family solstice party.

Marigold herself would take the seventh slice, seven being both generally an auspicious number and Doc's birthday.

She heard the sound of footsteps on the porch and Nina called out, Mama, Tamara and Perry are here with Jeremiah and Gregory.

Oh, looks like the sensiballs and harpers from church are coming up the drive, too.

Marigold remained focused on her snack cake, running through the last five intended recipients in her head.

Auntie,

you alright?

What?

Oh,

I'm alright.

Just want to make sure everybody's got plenty to eat.

With all due respect, Auntie, don't don't play with me.

Toad bias.

I'm sorry, ma'am, but I know that tone.

That's the way you used to talk to me before.

You know, before I knew.

Knew what, nephew?

You know

about this hoodoo shit.

Tobias, language.

Uh-uh, Auntie.

Now that was not even fair and you know it.

I'm sorry, boy.

Sometimes it's just too easy, and I can't resist.

I'm fine, Tobias.

I've seen the way you've been looking at a cake all night.

What's going on, Auntie?

Wait, the cake ain't like

haunted or nothing, is it?

Don't tell me we can't eat a cake because there's a hate in it.

They ain't no hate in that cake, baby.

We gonna eat it.

We gonna eat all of it.

We got to.

You know that.

Before Tobias could ask anything else, Mary Gold Underwood went to hug her grandbabies and make sure everyone had full plates and were on their way to having full bellies.

Tobias noticed that she kept eyeing the stack cake and glancing around the room nervously.

He saw her visibly relax a little when her Bible study and crocheting companion, Martha Ann, showed up with her best friend and roommate, Miss Barbara, slices number 10 and 11, respectively.

Tobias made his way across the rapidly filling parlor and pulled Nina away from an undoubtedly thrilling conversation with her husband and brother-in-law about grading standards in the county school system, for which she seemed grateful.

Have you noticed Auntie is acting a little,

I don't know,

strange this evening?

I mean, she's got a house full of family.

She don't run herself ragged getting all the food ready.

She might be a little tired.

You think she might be a little

fixated on the snack cake this year?

Like, no matter who she's talking to or what else goes on, she keeps checking on it.

Look, look, there she go again.

Granny Underwood sat on the sofa next to her grandson Gregory, who was talking animatedly about all the things he hoped Sandy might bring him that year.

She kept nodding distractedly, her eyes flicking to the window, then back to the cake, before returning to Gregory and his story.

It just wasn't like her at all.

There was one thing you'd normally have to pry Marigold away from.

It was her grandchildren.

See, she keeps looking out the window like she's expecting someone or some

thing.

I don't know what the cake got to do with it, but we might have trouble and she wouldn't tell me nothing.

I don't know, Tobias.

I mean, did you ask her directly if anything was wrong?

I did.

And she tried to distract me She kept making jokes and brushing me off

Nina she was talking to me like I don't know nothing about

You know hoodoo shit?

Yes.

Well, we can stand out here whispering about it or we can ask her like grown folks.

I just saw her go in the kitchen.

Come on.

The cousin stepped over to the kitchen door and peered inside.

Mary Gold Underwood paced the linoleum with the nervous energy most often seen in the hospital waiting room.

She wrung her hands and muttered to herself, and when she started toward the door back into the parlor, no doubt to double check on the cake again, they quickly stepped inside.

Tobias shut the door behind him.

Mama, are you okay?

Tobias is worried about you.

Why you gotta put it on me?

You hush.

Go change into your Santa outfit.

Give me and Mama some privacy.

You're worrying me, Mama.

Please tell me what's going on.

Nina, honey, we can talk about it later.

I just need to see you.

Tobias is right.

You keep watching the windows.

You're hovering over the apple stack cake like it's a pot about to boil over.

Mama, what's wrong?

Is something coming?

Do we need to be ready?

Cheers erupted from the next room and a mighty ho-ho-ho reached their ears as Tobias made his entrance as Santa.

Honey, I just want to be sure that cake is eaten for midnight.

We need every little bit of good fortune we can get this coming year if it's anything like the last one.

Tobias getting hurt, people getting sick,

and there's darker things stirring out there in the world.

I can feel it.

You got three black folks in one house with gifts like ours?

You have to know trouble will come calling.

On top of all that, a pig spoke to me today.

A pig?

Spoke to you.

Mm-hmm.

Looked me dead in the eye and said my name.

That's not good.

No, it's not.

Lil bastard's lucky he ain't ham and biscuits by now.

But mama, everybody always eats your cake.

Usually there's hardly any crumbs left.

You give it to people who love and appreciate you.

Sharing that delicious thing that you work so hard on lets them know that they're loved and appreciated too.

How could we not get that blessing?

I might have messed up.

You know Tilly and Perry couldn't make it this year.

I know, but Perry's people deserve to see them babies too.

You think I don't know that.

But it leaves us one piece short without your brother-in-law here to eat it.

So I asked somebody else and they ain't showed up and I'm starting to worry they may not make it.

They probably don't understand how important sharing in this is to our family.

Not understand?

Mama, who did you ask?

I was down at the bank handling some business and that nice Mr.

Rowe who works at the front counter wished me a Merry Christmas.

I wished him one back.

You know, he's a handsome young man.

And he said, you have a good holiday, Miss Miss Underwood, and save me a piece of that stat cake now.

I said I would.

And in fact,

he could come join us for our tree trimming and have a piece when it's nice and fresh.

Wait, Kenny Row, that white boy that used to work at the gas station till his daddy got him a job at the bank, you promised him a piece of cake.

He just been so helpful.

And he is a handsome boy.

And

I was just caught up in the holiday spirit as a.

Mama, why would he come all the way out here just to get a piece of cake?

The Rose are town folk.

They don't come up on the mountain.

I am very much aware of that, baby.

I just thought it might help us to spread the luck around, introduce some new energy.

Well, even if Mr.

Big Shot Bank Job Row doesn't come see us, it's not like you don't have other protections in place.

Bad stuff's come before.

Hell, Mama.

We've gone chasing after it if we're honest.

Nina!

Language.

The kitchen door swung open, and Tobias, who had overheard the last bit of their conversation, came into the kitchen, still merry in his red and white suit.

Nina's right, Auntie.

We've been through a lot this past year, sure, but we've faced worse before.

And no matter what comes, we'll face it together.

You taught us that.

All right, all right.

I hear you.

Let's go cut this cake and get on with it.

Oh, almost forgot.

I was coming in here to tell you that that some white boy on the porch says something about the bank.

Marigold Underwood tore past her nephew and daughter and blew into the parlor like a hurricane.

A timid blonde man in his mid-twenties stood in the doorway, holding a pair of white gloves, looking very uncomfortable to be the palest face in the room and the sudden focus of everyone's attention.

Mr.

Row!

Uh hi, Miss Underwood.

You uh left your gloves on the counter at the bank yesterday.

My daddy suggested I bring them up to you.

Customer service and all that.

We appreciate y'all for being loyal customers all these years.

Daddy said even when folks were scared to keep their money in banks after the stock market crashed, you kept your accounts open with us, helped keep food on the table when times were bad.

Well, I thank you, Mr.

Rowe.

That is very thoughtful.

You give my best to your daddy.

Why don't you stay and have a piece of that cake I promised you?

Well,

I should really get going.

Sit down, Kenny.

You eating this cake.

And with that, Mayor Gold Underwood cut and served her famous apple stack cake.

It was sweet and spicy, golden and delicious as always.

The solstice had come, and the Underwood House met it with good food, good friends,

and good fortune.

Today's story was written by Kim Collins and Steve Schell.

Our intro and outro music is by Brother Landon Blood.

The voice of Nina Jennings was Shasper A.

Irvin.

The voice of Tobias Underwood was DJ Rogers.

And the voice of Marigold Underwood, Fire of the Mountain, was Stephanie Hickling-Beckman.

Happy holidays from all of us here at Deep Nerd Media.

And we'll talk to you soon, family.

Talk to you real soon.

Coach, the energy out there felt different.

What changed for the team today?

It was the new game day scratchers from the California Lottery.

Play is everything.

Those games sent the team's energy through the roof.

Are you saying it was the off-field play that made the difference on the field?

Hey, a little play makes your day, and today it made the game.

That's all for now.

Coach, one more question: play the new Los Angeles Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, and Los Angeles Rams Scratchers from the California Lottery.

A little play can make your day.

Please play responsibly.

must be 18 years or older to purchase, play, or claim.

Suffs, the new musical has made Tony award-winning history on Broadway.

We demand to be home.

Winner, best score.

We demand to be seen.

Winner, best book.

We demand to be quality.

It's a theatrical masterpiece that's thrilling, inspiring, dazzlingly entertaining, and unquestionably the most emotionally stirring musical this season.

Suffs.

Playing the Orpheum Theater, October 22nd through November 9th.

Tickets at BroadwaySF.com.