Darkest Hour (18 page)

Her arm came up, and slowly, with that same mechanical movement, she began to stroke her hair again.

"Mamma," I said, touching her shoulder. She didn't hear me; she was lost in her own thoughts, reliving some moment she had spent with my real mother years and years ago.

Suddenly, she began to hum one of her tunes. She sat there for awhile and then she sighed deeply, her bosom rising and falling as though a shawl of lead had been laid upon her shoulders.

"I'm so tired tonight, Violet. We'll talk in the morning." She kissed me on the cheek. "Good night, dear sister. Sweet dreams. I know your dreams will be sweeter than mine, but that's all right. You deserve it; you deserve everything wonderful and good."

"Mamma," I said in a cracked voice when she stood up. My breath caught and held as I choked back my tears. She went to her bed and slowly took off her robe. I watched her get in under the blanket and then I went to her and caressed her hair. Her eyes were closed.

"Good night, Mamma," I said. She looked like she was already asleep. I turned off the oil lamp on her table and left her in the darkness of her past and the darkness of her present, and what I feared was the dreadful darkness of the future.

Mamma went in and out of these dark daydreams during the ensuing months. Whenever I came upon her alone in her room or even walking in the hallway, I would never know for sure until I began to speak to her whether or not she was living in the present or the past. Emily's reaction was to ignore it and Papa's reaction was to grow more and more intolerant and spend more and more of his time away from the house. And when he returned, he usually reeked of bourbon or brandy, his eyes bloodshot and so full of rage over something that had displeased him with business that I dared not utter a syllable of complaint.

Sometimes Mamma came to dinner, and some-times she didn't, when Papa was away. Usually, if it was just Emily and me, I would eat as quickly as I could and leave. When Emily excused me, that is. Papa left very clear and explicit instructions as to how the house was to be run whenever he was not home.

"Emily," he declared one night at dinner, "is the oldest and the wisest, maybe even wiser than your mother these days," he added. "Whenever I'm away and your mother is not feeling well, Emily is in charge and you are to treat her with the same respect and obedience you treat me. Is that clear, Lillian?"

"Yes, Papa."

"The same goes for the servants and they know it. I expect everyone to follow the same rules and the same procedures they would had I been home. Do your work, say your prayers and behave."

Emily soaked up this added authority and power like a sponge. With Mamma distracted more often than not and Papa away more frequently, she rode herd over everyone, making the chambermaids redo much of their work until it suited her, and piling chore after chore on poor old Henry. One evening before dinner when Papa was away and Mamma was shut up in her room, I pleaded for Emily to be more compassionate.

"Henry's older, Emily. He can't do as much or do it as quickly as he used to."

"Then he should resign his position," she declared firmly.

"And do what? The Meadows is more than a place for him to work; it's his home."

"This is the Booth home," she reminded me. "It's a home only for the family and those who are not Booths but who live here, live here at our pleasure. And don't forget, Lillian, that applies to you as well."

"You're so hateful. How can you claim to be so religious and devout and be so cruel?"

She smiled that cold smile at me.

"You would say that and you would have others believe it. It's Satan's way to discredit those who are truly faithful. There is only one way to defeat Satan and that is with prayer and devotion. Here," she said, thrusting the Bible at me. Louella entered the dining room with our food, but Emily forbid her to put it on the table.

"Take it back until Lillian reads her pages," she ordered.

"But you said your prayers and it's all ready, Miss Emily," Louella protested. She took pride in her cooking and hated to serve something too cold or overdone.

"Take it back," Emily snapped. "Begin where I have the marker," she commanded me, "and read."

I opened the Bible and began. Louella shook her head and returned with the food to the kitchen. I read page after page until I had read fifteen pages, but Emily wasn't satisfied it was enough. When I started to put the Bible down, she ordered me to continue.

"But Emily, I'm hungry and it's getting late. I've read over fifteen pages!"

"And you'll read fifteen more," she demanded.

"No, I won't," I said defiantly. I slammed the Bible down. Her lips paled and then her long, glaring look of contempt and pure hatred was like a slap to my face.

"Then go to your room without supper. Go on," she ordered. "And when Papa comes home, he will hear about this defiance."

"I don't care. He should hear about this, about how cruel you are to everyone when he's not here and how they're all so upset they're grumbling about leaving."

I slammed my chair against the table and ran out of the dining room. First, I went to Mamma's room to see if I could get her to intercede, but she was already asleep, having eaten a little of what Louella had brought her. Frustrated, I marched up to my room. I was angry and tired and hungry. Moments later, I heard a gentle knock on my door. It was Louella. She had brought me a tray.

"If Emily sees you, she'll tell Papa you disobeyed her," I said, reluctant to take the tray and get Louella in trouble.

"It don't matter no more, Miss Lillian. I'm too old to worry about it and the truth is, my days here is numbered. I was going to tell the Captain this week."

"Numbered? What do you mean, Louella?"

"I'm going to leave The Meadows and go live with my sister in South Carolina. She's retired from her position and it's time I was retired from mine."

"Oh no, Louella," I cried. She was more like family to me than a household servant. I couldn't begin to count the dozens and dozens of times I had run to her when I had cut a finger or bruised a knee. It was Louella who nursed me through all of my childhood illnesses and Louella who mended my clothes and sewed my hems. When Eugenia died, it was Louella who gave me the most comfort and who I comforted.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said, but then smiled. "But you don't worry none about yourself. You're a big girl now and a smart girl. It won't be long before you'll have your own household and you'll leave here, too." She hugged me and left.

Just the thought of Louella's leaving The Meadows sickened me. I lost my appetite and stared blankly at the food she had brought, dabbing my fork into the potatoes and meat with little interest. A few moments later, the door swung open again and Emily glared in, nodding.

"I thought so," she said. "I saw the way Louella was sneaking around. You'll be sorry, the both of you will," she threatened.

"Emily, the only thing I'm sorry about is that it was poor Eugenia who was taken from us and not you," I spit. She reddened like I had never seen her redden before. For a moment she was speechless. Then she hoisted her shoulders and turned away. I heard her thick heels click down the hallway and then I heard her door slam shut. In moments it was deathly quiet. I took a deep breath and started to eat again. I knew I would need my strength for what was surely to follow.

I didn't have to wait long. When Papa returned that night, Emily was there at the door to greet him and tell him about my defiance at the dinner table and what she would characterize as Louella's and my conspiracy to disobey her commands. I had gone to sleep early and woke to the sound of Papa's heavy footsteps in the corridor. His boots pounded the floor, and suddenly he burst open the door to my room. In the light behind him, I saw his silhouette. He was carrying a thick, cowhide belt in his hand. My heart began to pound.

"Put on the lamp," he commanded. I hurried to do so. Then he entered my room and closed the door behind him. His face was red with rage, but after only a moment in his presence I got a whiff of the bourbon. It seemed he had taken a bath in it. "You defied the Bible," he said. "You blasphemed at my dinner table?" He raged not only with his voice, but with his jet eyes that were fixed on me so firmly, I could barely breathe.

"No, Papa. Emily asked me to read and I did. I read over fifteen pages, but she wouldn't let me stop and I was hungry."

"You let your body overcome the needs of your soul?"

"No, Papa. I read enough of the Bible."

"You don't know what's enough and what isn't. I told you to obey Emily as you would obey me," he said, drawing closer.

"I did, Papa. But she was being unreasonable and unfair and cruel, not only to me, but to Louella and to Henry and . ."

"Pull that quilt back," he commanded.
"Pull it!"
I did so quickly.

"Turn on your stomach," he ordered.

"Papa, please," I begged. I started to cry. He seized my shoulder and turned me abruptly. Then he lifted my nightgown so that my behind was bare. For a moment I felt only the palm of his hand over it. It seemed he was stroking it softly. I started to turn when he roared at me.

"Turn thy face away, Satan," he cried. The moment I did so, I felt the first blow. The strap burned into my flesh. I screamed, but he struck me again and again.

Papa had slapped me before, but he had never beaten me like this. After a moment, I was too shocked to cry. I gagged on my sobs instead. Finally, he decided I had been punished enough.

"Never, never disobey a commandment in this house and never slam a Bible onto the table as if it were a common book," he instructed.

I wanted to speak, but all I could do was choke on my words. The burning went so deeply, I felt the pain reach into my chest and make my heart feel so hot it was as if the strap had cut through my body. I didn't move and for a long moment, I heard him standing over me, breathing hard. Then, he turned and left my room. Still, I didn't move; I pressed my face to the pillow until I was able to release my frozen tears.

But a short time afterward, I heard footsteps again. I was terrified he had returned. A rippling sensation on the back of my neck gave me the awareness that someone was near. I turned slightly and saw Emily kneeling beside me, I watched her bow her head, but I could only glare at her hatefully. She lifted her head and then put her sharp elbows over my abrasions so that the bone irritated them. Her hands clutched her thick, black Bible. I groaned and protested, but she ignored me and pressed down harder, holding me from moving away.

"He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it; And whoso breaketh through a fence, a serpent shall bite him,' " she began.

"Get off me," I pleaded hoarsely. "Emily, get off me. You're hurting me."

"The words of a wise man's mouth are gracious," she continued.

"Get off me. Get away," I said. "Get away!" I cried, and finally found the strength to turn. She rose, but stood over me until she completed her reading and then she closed the Bible.

"His will be done," she said, and left me.

Papa's beating hurt so much, I couldn't sit. All I could do was lie there and wait for the pain to subside.

Soon afterward, Louella came to my room. She brought a salve with her and put it on my wounds, sobbing at the sight of them herself.

"Poor child," she said. "My poor baby."

"Oh Louella, don't leave me. Please, don't leave me," I begged.

She nodded.

"I won't leave right away, child, but my sister needs me, too, and I got to go."

She hugged me and we rocked on the bed together for a few moments. Then she fixed my blanket and tucked me in. She kissed my cheek and left me. I was still in great pain, but her comforting hands had eased it considerably. Mercifully, I was able to sleep.

I knew there was no sense complaining to Mamma about what had happened. She was there at breakfast the next morning, but she barely spoke. Whenever she looked at me, she seemed on the verge of tears. She didn't even notice how uncomfortable I was, sitting on my still very sore behind. I knew if I as much as squeaked a complaint, Papa would be enraged.

Emily read her Biblical passages and Papa hovered over the table in his usual Lord of the Manor way, barely casting a glance at me, as I shifted every few minutes to ease the ache. We all ate in silence. Finally, toward the end of our breakfast, Papa cleared his throat to make an announcement.

"Louella has informed me that she intends to terminate her services in two weeks' time. I have had some inkling of this and have already sent for a couple to replace her. Their name is Slope, Charles and Vera. Vera has a year-old son named Luther, but she has assured me that rearing him won't interfere with her responsibilities. Charles will assist Henry with his chores, and Vera will work in the kitchen, of course, and do what she can for . . . for Georgia," he said, shifting his eyes at Mamma. She sat there with more of a silly grin on her face now and listened as if she were just another child in the house. When Papa was finished, he put down his napkin and stood up.

"I have some pressing business problems to attend to over the next few weeks and will, from time to time, be gone for a day or two. I expect we will have no reoccurrence of the problems we had before," he asserted, scowling down at me. I dropped my gaze quickly to my plate. Then he pivoted and left us.

Mamma suddenly started to giggle like a schoolgirl. She smothered her mouth with her hand and giggled again.

"Mamma? What is it?"

"She's gone daft from grief," Emily said. "I told Papa but he ignored me."

"Mamma, what is it?" I asked, far more frightened. She pulled her hand away and bit down on her lips so hard, I saw the skin turn white.

"I know a secret," she said, and glanced furtively at Emily and then at me.

"A secret? What secret, Mamma?"

She leaned over the table, glancing first at the doorway through which Papa had gone and then turning back to me.

"I saw Papa come out of the toolshed yesterday. He was in there with Belinda and she had her skirt up and her pants down," she said.

For a moment I couldn't speak. Who was Belinda? "What?"

"She's just talking gibberish," Emily said. "Come on. It's time for us to go."

"But Emily . . ."

"Just leave her," Emily ordered. "She'll be all right. Louella will see to her. Get your things or we'll be late for school. Lillian!" she snapped when I didn't move.

I rose from my chair, my eyes glued to Mamma, who had sat back to giggle again with her hand over her mouth. To see her this way put a shiver through me, but Emily was hovering over the table like a prison guard with a whip, waiting for me to obey her command. Reluctantly, my heart so heavy it felt like a chunk of stone in my chest, I hurried away from the table, got my books and followed Emily out of the house.

"Who could Belinda be?" I wondered aloud. Emily turned, smirking.

"A slave girl on her father's plantation," she replied. "I'm sure she's remembering something that really happened, something disgusting and evil, something I'm sure you enjoyed hearing."

"I did not! Mamma is very sick. Why doesn't Papa send for a doctor?"

"There's no doctor who can cure what she has," Emily said.

"What does she have?"

"Guilt," Emily replied with a look of satisfaction. "Guilt for not being as devout as she should have been. She knows that her sinful ways and her wickedness gave the devil the strength to live in our home. Probably in your room," she added. "And eventually, to take Eugenia. Now she's sorry, but it's too late and she's gone mad with guilt.

"It's all in the Bible," she added, with a wry smile twisting her lips. "You just have to read it."

"You're a liar!" I shouted. She simply smiled at me in her cold way and then quickened her steps. "You're a terrible liar! Mamma has no guilt. There was no devil in my room and he hasn't taken Eugenia. Liar!" I cried, the tears streaming down my cheeks. She disappeared around a turn. Good riddance, I thought and followed slowly, my head down, the tears still dripping from my cheeks when I reached Niles, who had waited for me at his driveway.

"Lillian, what's wrong?" he cried, running to me.

"Oh Niles." My shoulders shook with my sobs so, he put his books down quickly and embraced me.

Quickly, between wails, I described what had happened, how Papa had beaten me, how Mamma had become increasingly strange.

"There, there," he said, kissing me softly on the forehead and cheeks, "I'm sorry your father struck you. If I were older, I'd go over there and give him what for," he declared. "I would."

He said it so firmly, I stopped my crying and lifted my head from his shoulder. Wiping my eyes, I looked into his and saw the anger he felt and I realized the love he had for me.

"I'd gladly endure the pain of a beating from Papa if something could be done for poor Mamma," I said.

"Maybe I can get my mother to go over to visit your mother and see what's become of her. Then she can ask your father to do something."

"Oh will you, Niles? That might help. Yes, it might. No one comes to see Mamma anymore, so no one knows how poorly she's doing."

"I'll mention it tonight at dinner," he promised. He wiped away my remaining tears with the back of his hand. "We'd better catch up," he said, "before Emily makes something sinful out of this, too."

I nodded. Of course, he was right, so we hurried on to get to school on time.

Niles's mother did pay a visit to The Meadows a few days later. Unfortunately, Mamma was asleep and Papa was away on one of his trips. She told Louella she would stop by another time, but when I asked Niles about it, he said his father had forbidden his mother to make another visit.

"My father says it's not our business and we shouldn't poke our noses into your family's affairs. I think," he said, lowering his head with some shame, "he's simply afraid of your father and his temper. I'm sorry."

"Maybe just go see Doctor Cory myself one day," I said. Niles nodded, even though we both knew I probably wouldn't. What he had said about Papa was true—he had a fiery temper and I was afraid to risk his anger. He might only stop the doctor from coming and then beat me for asking him.

"Maybe she'll just get better herself," Niles wished. "My mother says time heals all wounds eventually. Papa says it's just taking your mother a little longer, but we should all be patient."

"Maybe," I said, but not without much hope. "The only one who shows any real concern is Louella, but as you know, she's leaving very soon now."

The remaining days that I had with Louella passed much too quickly until the morning of her departure came. When I awoke and realized it, I was reluctant to get up and go down to face the good-byes, but then I thought how terrible it would be for Louella to leave without my saying good-bye. I got dressed as quickly as I could.

Henry was taking Louella and her things to Upland Station where she would begin to make the connections that would take her to her sister in South Carolina. He loaded her trunks on the wagon while all the workers and servants gathered around to say farewell. Everyone had grown to love Louella and there were tears in most everyone's eyes, some of the chambermaids, especially Tottie, crying openly.

"Now y'all see here," Louella declared when she stepped out on the porch, her hands on her hips. She wore her Sunday church clothes and her bonnet. "I ain't going to my grave. I'm just going to lend a hand to my older sister who's retired and retire myself. Some of you are crying because you're just jealous," she flared and there was a ripple of laughter. Then she stepped off the porch and hugged and kissed them all and sent them off to begin their daily chores.

Papa had said his good-bye the night before when he had called her into his office to give her money toward her retirement. I stood nearby the door and.

I heard him formally thank her for being a good household servant, loyal and honest. His tone of voice was cold and official, even though she had been at The Meadows so long she could recall him as a young boy.

"Of course," he said at the end, "I wish you good luck and a healthy, long life."

"Thank you, Mr. Booth," Louella said. There was a short pause and then I heard her say, "If I could just say one thing, sir, before I leave."

"Yes?"

"It's Mrs. Booth, sir. She don't look and act good to me. She's pining away over her dead little girl and . . ."

"I'm very well aware of Mrs. Booth's ridiculous behavior, Louella, thank you. She will come to her senses soon, I'm sure, and go on with her life and be a mother to our other children, as she should, as well as a wife to me. Don't let it concern you a moment more."

"Yes sir," Louella said, her voice dripping with disappointment.

"Well then, good-bye," Papa concluded. I hurried away from the door so Louella wouldn't know I had been eavesdropping.

Now, when I stepped down to say my good-bye, I couldn't help the flow of tears. It was as if a dam had burst.

"Don't you go making Louella feel terrible now, honey. I got me a long trip ahead and a new tough row to hoe. You think it's going to be easy, two old women, set in their ways, living together in a tiny house? No sir, no sir," she said.

I smiled through my tears.

"I'll miss you, Louella . . . terribly."

"Oh, I expect I'll miss you too, Miss Lillian." She turned around and looked up at the plantation house. Then she sighed. "I expect I'll miss The Meadows a great deal, miss every corner of every cabinet and closet. A lot of laughter and a lot of tears been heard and been wrung between those there walls."

She turned back to me.

"You be nice to the new help and watch over your Mamma best you can and just tend to your own business. You growing into a beautiful young lady. It's just a matter of time now before some handsome gentleman comes calling and sweeping you off, and when that happens, you remember old Louella, hear? Send me a note and tell me. Promise?"

"Of course, Louella. I'll write you often. I'll write you so much, you'll get tired of it."

She laughed. She hugged and kissed me and then she took one more look at The Meadows before letting Henry help her into the carriage. It was only then that I realized Emily hadn't even bothered to come down to say good-bye to her, though she, just like me, had known her all her life.

"Ready?" Henry asked her. She nodded and he tapped the horses. The carriage started forward, down the long avenue of cedars. Louella looked back and waved with her handkerchief. I waved back, but my heart felt so hollow and my feet so numb, I thought I might faint with sorrow. I stood there and watched until the wagon was out of sight and then I turned and slowly walked back up the stairs to enter the house that had become a lot more empty, a lot more lonely, a lot less home.