Unto These Hills (16 page)

Out of my life.

Chapter Nine

The next week still mists in my mind, all these years later. I do believe God protected me when Aunt Tina did the dirty work of announcing the wedding cancelled. The stated reason: Daniel got cold feet and ran off to join the Army. Which was, in a sense, true. Daniel did get cold feet. And he did run off to join the Army

Only thing, nobody else, except Doretha — who was sworn to secrecy — and Dr. Worley, knew about the baby. Without divulging anything more, I asked Dr. Worley not to tell anyone else about the baby. He gave me his word he would not.

Doretha tried to talk Daniel out of enlisting, insisting I was an innocent victim. But Daniel simply could not, at that precise moment in time, see me as
innocent
under any circumstances. He also couldn’t reconcile to marrying a defiled, pregnant, lying Sunny. Period. End of discussion.

So be it.

Outwardly, I held my head up, drawing admiring remarks from those close to me. “Girl, you sure got guts. Not ever’body as brave when a feller runs like a skeered rabbit like that Daniel done,” Daisy said time and again.

“Daisy, please don’t say that again.
I am not brave
. I am one scared female.” Then, to my humiliation, I choked up and fled to the sewing room, where my virginal white wedding gown still hung, deriding me with
what ifs.

Oh yes, the shame of it was like flushing vinegar through an open shotgun wound. Yet, my secret overrode even Daniel’s rejection and abandonment. Doretha was the only person to whom I could or would vent. She was always there, arms and heart open.

“What can I do, Doretha?” I sobbed on her shoulder. We sat in the living room while her mother napped upstairs. Doretha told me not to worry too much about Berthie overhearing us because her mama didn’t remember enough these days to repeat gossip.

I’d burst in moments earlier after a violent bout of nausea. “Nana said ‘was you a’vomitin’, Sunny?’ I lied, Doretha.” I shook my head. “It never ends. I
hate
lying. But my folks couldn’t handle it.” I knew in my heart of hearts that those closest to me could not come to terms with this narrative in my life’s story.

Doretha took my hands in hers, astonishing me again with her frail dignity. Her gray gaze met mine. “Thing is, Sunny, I don’t think
you
could handle them
a’knowin’.
You’d nearly die knowing you was a disappointment to ‘em, wouldn’t you?”

How well she knew me. “Yeh. I would.” I snuffled and blew my nose in the Kleenex she pressed into my hand. “So Daniel wouldn’t even let you tell him about the rape?” I needed to hear it again.

“No.” She gazed at me, her heart in her eyes. “I tried. I really did but he held up his hand like ‘
whoa’
as soon as I spoke your name. He lit outta here with his suitcase like his britches was on fire. Said tell you he was a’gonna join the Army.” She shrugged sadly. “That’s all he said, honey.”

The back door slammed. Startled, I cast Doretha an imploring look. I didn’t want anybody to see me with red, swollen eyes. I didn’t want to do any explaining. It would mean more lies.

“S’probably just
Walter
,” she rolled her eyes, making me giggle nervously. I could always count on gentle humor with the Walter-Doretha thing.

“Whaddaya mean ‘
just Walter?’”
His good-looking face poked through the door. As usual, a blond curl separated itself from the mane to dangle over his forehead. “I
heard
that, Doretha,” he pointed a finger-gun at her, with deadly aim, “
POW
,” then winked and flashed his quick grin at me.

His face sobered. “Hey, Sunny,” he rushed over and hunkered down to take my other hand, “don’t take things so hard. I could beat the stuffins’ outta Daniel for takin’ off like he did. Guy didn’t know what he had.”

“Don’t blame Daniel,” I said hoarsely, feeling slightly buoyed by Walter’s words. “He didn’t have much choice.”

“Sunny don’t want to talk about it, Walter.” Doretha’s bark was no more than a poodle’s sigh but its timbre rang of protectiveness. “Why don’t you just go on and let us girls be?”

“It’s okay,” I turned to her. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. “Really,” I insisted.

She gazed at me for long moments, eyes unreadable. Then she stood. “In that case, I’ll go upstairs and see about Mama. Call me if you need me, Sunny.” Her gaze raked Walter for an insolent moment and she left.

I grinned. “She’s really a cocklebur in the seat of your britches, ain’t she?” Walter and I both burst into laughter. It was the first time I’d laughed since Daniel’s exodus and I kept on till fresh tears rivuleted down my cheeks. Walter grew sober as he gazed intently into my face.

“Whoa,” he slipped onto the couch beside me and awkwardly put his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t cry.” His fingers squeezed my arm and then gently patted. “Please…don’t cry, Sunny.”

“I-I can’t help it.” I scrooched up my shoulders, then dropped them to a new low. “I just can’t seem to get it all together these days, y’know?” Tears splashed on my hand holding the shredded Kleenex. “Here,” he grabbed fresh ones and reached to ineptly blot my soppy cheeks.

“I’m a mess, Walter,” I hiccuped, snatched the tissue from his hand, and blew my nose, wondering manically how so much liquid could come from one person’s head.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, real upbeat-like. “Why don’t we take in a movie tonight? Debbie Reynolds in
Susan Slept Here
?” He waggled his eyebrows comically, making me giggle like a silly teenager, which, I conceded, was exactly what I was.

“
Listen to me
,” I gushed on a half-sob, half-snicker.

“Hey, I’m good medicine.” He leaned and whispered in my ear, “’Cept with ol’ Doretha.” He did a Three-Stooges
whooo whooo whooo!

Now that drew guffaws, weird shaky ones, but guffaws nevertheless. When I caught my breath, I said impulsively, “Yeh, let’s go see Debbie.”

We did. I begged Doretha to go with us but she declined., saying her mama needed her. So we went, just the two of us. And for the first time in over a week, I felt a bit of life begin to sluggishly stir within me again.

I’d gotten through another day.

~~~~~

Francine and Tack wed the next weekend. The church packed out. I suspect my cancelled wedding boosted the distinction of Francine’s nuptials. And I’m sure the whole thing added a soap opera element of “
tune in tomorrow, same time, same station. Will Francine actually do it?
”

I wore a new red dress, Francine’s choice for her maid-of-honor. I tried to repress
matron of honor
from my repertoire. It no longer applied.

“That hussy didn’t even
show
for my wedding,” Francine hissed under her breath in the hotel dining room, now set up for her reception. The food I’d bought for Daniel’s and my reception now graced the tables, adorned by my decorations. No need to waste, Daisy had insisted and proceeded to prepare as though it were my wedding.

“Said she wasn’t feeling well.” I hadn’t really believed Sheila until I saw her pale face and trembling hands. “Having a bad period.” At least that’s what she’d told me. There were times I couldn’t read my little sister.

“On the rag, huh? That’s her excuse?
Hummph,”
sneered Francine, then quicksilver-like pasted on her biggest smile to greet the Turners, Tack’s family. Tack looked exceedingly happy. I suspected he couldn’t believe he’d actually bagged the hottest gal on the hill. His aging parents seemed pleased enough with the match, as was Tack’s older sister, Elaine Carly, whose husband Gene’s drunken philandering was one-upped only by Harly Kale’s.

Elaine hugged Francine and I noted her dress wasn’t new, seemed a mite worn, actually. A pang of pity sliced through me. Her choice of husband had set her on a barren path, not only financially but emotionally as well, if gossip held truth. Impulsively, I stepped forward as soon as she’d greeted the newlyweds to give her a warm embrace. We’d seen each other in Tucapau Methodist Church. She always came alone. I gave Elaine an extra little squeeze, wanted to weep for her. She was such a contrast to her brother, Tack, and their parents, who all shined in designer clothes.

Preacher Wayne, as most folks called him, had performed the wedding ceremony. All the little Acklins were there, in top form. Now, Sarah tackled me at the hips, nearly knocking me off my feet. “Oh, Thunny,” she lisped in her melodramatic way, “I mith you tho-o-o much.”

I stooped and hugged her hugely. “I miss you, too, punkin’.” We’d been to several matinees together, my little pal and I, with me trying, in vain, to keep her from knowing I cried all the way through the features. The wonderful smell of buttery popcorn evoked memories of Daniel’s generous sharing with Timmy and Sheila, pulling the plug every time. Without warning, tears sprang to my eyes.

Those raisin eyes didn’t miss a thing. Her chubby little hand lifted to my cheek. “What’th wrong, Thunny? You mith Daniel?”

I hugged her to me. “Yes,” I whispered, “I miss Daniel.” She knew her former hero had left me high and dry. Everybody did. Her innocent acceptance of Daniel’s flaws warmed me. She still loved him, too.

Walter, dressed up in a pale blue suit and tie, managed to still be James Dean-loose and laid-back as he sauntered my way. He hunkered down beside me and teasingly pulled at Sarah’s hand, whose thumb was imbedded in mouth. She grinned around the appendage-pacifier but her tongue kept right on lapping at it. “Aww come on,” Walter coaxed, “let me taste it. You make it look so go-o-od.”

Surprised, Sarah stopped sucking, stared at him for a long measuring moment, pulled the thumb out and generously stuck it up to Walter’s mouth. Without blinking, he popped it into his mouth and did a reasonably accurate mimic of Sarah and had her giggling all over herself.

His gesture touched me for some reason. You’d have to love a child to partake of her saliva-slick finger. His tongue must have tickled because she went into spasms of giggles and quickly dislodged it, tucking it under her arm coyly, flirting with him. By now I was laughing too. It felt good.

Later, Walter walked me home. Fighting melancholy, I found myself asking him to visit awhile on the back stoop. “Sure,” he said, lowering himself on the step beside me. His legs weren’t as long as Daniel’s.
Darn, there I go, comparing.
Daniel was gone. I simply
had
to get that through my thick head. He would be in Basic Training for at least six weeks, according to Doretha, and then only God knew where they’d send him.

“Has Daniel called?” Walter asked quietly, stunning me that he’d perceived where my thoughts drifted.

“No.” I sighed and set my chin against emotions I had no right to. Not anymore. The churning in my stomach suddenly worsened and, without warning, I began to heave violently. I managed to spring to my feet and staggered to the grassy backyard perimeter before the messy part began. I felt Walter’s hand on my back and the other at my elbow, steadying me. I tried to tell him not to expose himself to such a disgusting display but when I opened my mouth I merely heaved more heavily. Dear
Jesus
, why did the stomach insist upon giving up that last, deep vestige of food, that took such superhuman effort to dislodge?

Walter pulled out a white handkerchief, that’d been artfully folded into his suit pocket, and pressed it to my mouth and face, blotting away cold perspiration that beaded my forehead and upper lip. Sick as I was, I was impressed with his gentleness. His consideration. Tears sprang to my eyes. “T-thank you, Walter,” I managed to mumble. “I’m sorry you saw that.”

“Hey,” his arm slipped around my shoulders as he helped me back to the stoop, “no problem.” He settled me on the step then lowered himself beside me. “Sunny — are you pregnant?” he asked gently.

For a moment, I was stunned by the suddenness of his question. Then, I felt myself sag with a strange relief. In a way, I wanted to vent. “Yes. I am.” I laid my head back against the screened door and closed my eyes.

“Does Daniel know?”

I laughed. A dry humorless huff. “Oh, yes. He knows.”

I felt Walter stiffen. “Then that’s why he —”

“Uh huh.” I sighed.

“Why that
bastard,
” Walter muttered.

“No,” I reached out to touch his rigid arm. “It’s not Daniel’s fault. You see, I was raped, Walter, while Daniel was away looking for Mona.”

Walter gaped at me, an unfamiliar glitter in his blue eyes. Anger, I finally decided. “My god, Sunny. Who?”

I sagged even further and whispered, “I don’t know.”

We sat for long moments, he staring unseeing into the evening galaxy while I hugged my arms to me, suddenly chilled by memories. “What happened?” he asked quietly. Then he looked at me, intently, “is there any chance the baby is Daniel’s?”

“No. He and I didn’t — you know,” I felt blood rush to my cheeks, “not until after I found out I was pregnant.”

So I told him what had transpired that night. Walter was silent the entire time, staring ahead, listening intently. Then I went on to relate the conversations Daniel and I had had and how Daniel realized I’d started out to deceive him. The whole truth. I felt incredible relief to finally unload it to another person I could trust.

Sometime during the discourse, Walter’s arm had come around my shoulder and his strong fingers began to gently squeeze encouragement. That little gesture soothed me in ways I cannot begin to explicate. I was not aware that tears coursed down my cheeks until Walter’s damp handkerchief reappeared to wipe them away. When I finished, my head lay on his shoulder.

We sat that way for a long time, silent and together. I felt drained but instead of being depleted, I felt a stirring of spirit — of hope for the future.

I lifted my head and looked at him. “Walter, I feel like I can finally pray again. For so long, I haven’t been able to.”

He gazed at me for long moments. Then he flashed me that quick grin of his. “I’m glad, Sunny. I know how much that means to you.” When he saw my surprise, he said almost reverently, “ Daniel once told me you’re pretty religious.”