Eventide (25 page)

You’re talking about Hoyt Raines. You’re referring to Mr. Raines.

Yes. That’s him.

Did you witness what Mr. Raines was doing to your children?

My husband did, Betty said. I never seen it. Afterward I just seen what he done.

What did you do yourself?

You mean me?

Yes.

I told him he couldn’t do it. When he first come in our house I says, You can’t come in here.

Mr. Wallace. What did you do?

I went on in there, Luther said. I seen him using his belt and I says, You can’t do that. You got to stop that.

Did you physically try to stop him?

Well, like I says, I was in there. Then he come and hit me cross the neck. It’s still stinging me. Luther rubbed at his neck beneath the shirt collar.

What did you do after he whipped you with his belt?

I went back to take care of my wife.

What was she doing?

She was laid out bawling about all what was going on.

So in fact you didn’t do anything.

Luther looked at the judge, then he glanced at Betty, then he faced forward again. I went in there to stop him. But he whipped me cross my neck. With that belt of his.

Yes. I heard you tell the court that you did that much. But just entering the room where he was whipping your children didn’t stop him, did it. That wasn’t enough.

He says he’s going to kill us.

Sir?

He says he’s going to kill us if we done anything.

Mr. Raines told you he would kill you?

Yes sir. That’s exactly what he told us.

That he would kill you if you tried to prevent him from whipping your children.

Yes sir.

If we told on him too, Betty said. If we called somebody on the phone.

That’s right, Luther said. If we called somebody, he says he’s going to hear us, and he’s going to kill us like we was dogs.

So he threatened you both.

He put a threat on us both right in our own house, Luther said.

The judge looked at the file on his desk for a moment. Then he raised his head. This is the second time this has occurred. Isn’t that right?

Yes sir, Your Honor. He done it once before, Luther said.

Do you know where he is now?

No.

Where do you think he might be?

He could be about anywhere. He might be in New York City.

New York City. Do you think that’s where he is?

Might be Vegas too. He’s always talking bout making a killing in Las Vegas.

The judge looked at him. Well. I thank you both for your testimony. You may sit down.

The judge then called the guardian ad litem. The young attorney stood and approached the table and reported his interview with the two children. He closed by submitting his own recommendation to the court.

I’m to understand from what you’ve just informed the court that you concur with the recommendation of the county attorney and the Social Services? the judge said.

That’s right, Your Honor.

Thank you, the judge said. He looked out into the courtroom. In a case like this one, he said, I have to make two determinations. First, on the filing of the Petition of Dependency and Neglect. Secondly, I must make a determination about the custody of the two children. The court has heard the various parties involved in this case. Is there anyone who wants to say something more?

Betty stood up from where she sat behind the table.

Yes? the judge said. Do you have something more to say, Mrs. Wallace?

You’re not going to take my children, are you? Betty said. I love my children.

Yes, ma’am. I appreciate that, the judge said. I believe you and your husband do love your children. That’s not in dispute here.

Don’t take them. Please.

But Mrs. Wallace, it’s evident to the court from the testimony we’ve heard today, including your own testimony, that you can’t protect them. Your uncle has abused them twice. For now, they’re better off in foster care.

But don’t take them. Please don’t.

The court has to decide what is in the best interest of the children.

They’re suppose to be with their mama and daddy.

In most instances, that’s right. The court makes every effort to keep the children with their parents. But in this case, it’s the court’s decision that they’re better served by being placed in foster care. At least for the time being. Until your uncle has been found, Mrs. Wallace.

You mean you’re going to take them away?

You may still see them. Under supervision. They won’t be taken out of the local vicinity. They’ll still be in Holt County and you can visit them on a regular basis.

Oh no! Betty cried. Oh no! No! No! Then she screamed something that was not even words. Her voice rang in the room and it echoed shrilly against the dark paneled walls. She fell back into the church bench and banged her head. Her eyes rolled wildly. Luther tried to help her and she bit his hand.

The judge stood up in surprise. Somebody help her there, he said. Somebody bring this woman a glass of water.

43

A
FTER HIS SUPPER OF FRIED MEAT AND FRIED POTATOES,
sitting alone at the pinewood table in the kitchen, the house so silent and still with just the sough of wind outside, he rinsed off his meager dishes at the sink and moved into the dining room. He took down the phone from the wall and carried it on its long cord to the parlor and sat in his old recliner chair and called Victoria Roubideaux in Fort Collins.

I was just picking up the phone to call you, she said.

Were you, honey? I just figured it was about my turn. I was wondering if you knew when you and Katie was coming home for the summer. I hope you’re still coming.

Oh, yes. Nothing would change that.

I’ll sure be glad to see you. Both of you.

I’ve only got another couple weeks of classes, then finals.

How’s your classes going?

Okay. You know. It’s school.

Well. It’ll be nice to have you home for a while. How’s my little Katie?

Oh, she’s fine. She talks about you all the time. Here, do you want to say something to her?

The little girl came on.

That you, Katie? he said.

She began to talk immediately and her high voice was clear and excited at once, and she was telling him something about day care and some other little girl there with her, and he couldn’t make out much of what she was saying, but he was satisfied just to hear her voice. Then Victoria took the phone again.

I couldn’t get all of that, Raymond said. She’s a talker, ain’t she.

She talks all the time.

Well, that’s good.

Anyway, I plan to be home by Memorial Day, she said. I’ve been thinking I wanted to take some flowers out to the cemetery.

He’d like that.

I think about him just about every day.

I know. I been catching myself talking to him again.

What do you talk about?

Oh, just the work around here. Like we used to do. Making up our minds about what to do concerning one thing or another. I’m just turning old and crazy, I reckon. Somebody ought to take me out back of the barn and shoot me.

I wouldn’t worry about that. You’re not really worried, are you?

No. I guess not, he said. Well. Now how about Del. I guess he’s still in the picture.

Yes. We were out together last night. We took Katie to a movie downtown. That reminds me—do you think you could use him this summer during haying?

Does he want to do that?

He was asking about it. He wanted me to ask you if you thought that would be all right. If he came out for a while this summer.

Well sure, I could always use another hand. He’d be welcome.

Okay, I’ll tell him, she said. But what about you? Have you seen Rose Tyler again?

Well. We been out several times. We been out to eat dinner.

Are you having fun?

Yes ma’am. I believe you could call it that. At least I think so.

I’m glad. I want to meet her. I haven’t even met her yet.

I believe you’re going to like her. She’s a awful fine woman to me. I want to get us all together once you get home.

And have you been taking care of yourself?

Yes. I’d say so.

Have you been eating right?

Pretty good.

I know you haven’t. I know you don’t eat right. I wish you would.

It’s just awful quiet around here, honey. You say you’ll be home by Memorial Day?

Yes. As soon as I can.

That’ll be good, he said. It’ll be good to see you.

They hung up then and Raymond sat in the parlor at the back of the house with the phone in his lap, musing and remembering. Thinking about Victoria and Katie and about Rose Tyler, and about his dead brother, gone on ahead, already this half year and more.

44

I
N A BORROWED CAR MARY WELLS DROVE TO GREELEY,
out across the high plains two hours west of Holt, and spent all that warm day going around to various places of business applying for work. She finally found a job late in the afternoon in an insurance office downtown in the old part of the city. Afterward she went to a phone booth and called home. She had begun to feel lighter, she believed things were going to be better now. When she called, the girls were home from school and she told them she would be back by nightfall and they’d all have supper together.

In Holt she returned the car to her friend and then walked along the streets to her own small house on the south side of town. The streets were all empty, with everyone inside eating supper. At home the two girls were waiting for her on the front steps when she walked up to the house. Were you worried about me? she said.

You took so long.

I came as fast as I could. But it’s all right now. I’m home.

They went inside and she cooked supper for them, and they sat in the kitchen and she told them about finding a job in Greeley that afternoon. It’ll be better there, she said. We can make a fresh start.

I don’t want to move, Dena said.

I know, honey. But I think we should. I’m sorry. But I can’t stay here and you know I have to work and support us. I can’t do that here. We’ll have to rent an apartment at first. That’s all I can afford for right now. I’ll have a truck rented for three or four days to move us out. And then we’ll stay in a motel and look for an apartment. She looked at both of the girls, their faces so young and dear. Maybe we can find one with a view of the mountains. How would that be?

We won’t have any friends there, Dena said.

Not yet. But you will have. We’ll all make new friends.

What about DJ?

What do you mean?

He’s going to be alone. After we leave.

You can write him. And it’s only two hours away, so he can come visit sometime. And maybe you can come back here to visit him.

It’s not the same.

Oh, honey, I can’t fix everything, she said. She looked at them and both girls were ready to cry.

But I brought you something, she said. She went out to the front room and returned with two packages and set them on the table. One was a yellow dress for Emma, who tried it on and twirled around for them to see. The other package was a little container of concealer. The slogan said: Covers completely. I’ll show you how to use it, their mother said.

What is it?

I’ll show you.

She stood over Dena and squeezed the little tube and caught some of the beige paste onto her finger and dabbed it on the girl’s scar beside her eye and smoothed it in. The scar was still red and shiny and the makeup dulled it a little. The girl went into the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror and then came back out.

What do you think? Mary Wells said. Isn’t that better?

You can still see it, though.

But it’s better, honey. Don’t you think it is? I think it looks a lot better.

It’s okay, Mama.

O
N FRIDAY AFTERNOON WHEN MARY WELLS AND THE
girls were loading the rental truck, DJ came to the house after school and helped them carry out the last things. Mary Wells had decided she could wait no longer. The manager at the insurance office wanted her to start work by the middle of the next week and she knew if she put off the move she might not be able to move at all. She doubted she would still have the volition and energy. She had listed the house with a realtor, and at school she had spoken to the principal and the girls’ teachers, and the girls would be allowed to withdraw with passing grades since there were only two weeks of classes left and both girls had done satisfactory work throughout the year.

In those last few days, DJ and Dena went to the shed at the back alley every afternoon and sat at the table across from each other in the little dark room and lit the candles. They ate their snacks of crackers and cheese and drank cold coffee and talked.

Mama said I can write you, Dena told him. Will you write me back?

I guess so. I never wrote any letters before.

But you can write me. And Mama said you can visit sometime.

All right.

Don’t you want to?

I said all right.

What do you think of my face?

Your face?

My scar.

It looks okay. I don’t know.

Do you think this makeup helps it not show as much?

It looks okay to me. I didn’t mind it before.

Everybody keeps looking at me. I hate it.

The hell with them, he said. Never mind those other kids. They don’t know anything.

Dena stared at him and touched his hand, and he kept looking at her, then she drew her hand back and he turned away.

Do you want any more of these crackers here? he said.

Do you?

Yes.

Then I do too.

T
HEN IN THE AFTERNOON THE TRUCK WAS LOADED AND
the big overhead door was pulled down at the back. They came out of the house and Mary Wells locked up for the last time. DJ was standing at the curb waiting and she came out to the street and suddenly took him in her arms. Oh, we’re going to miss you, DJ, she said. We’re going to miss you so much. You take care of yourself now. She released him and looked in his face. Will you do that?

Yes ma’am.

I mean it. You have to take care of yourself.

I will.

All right. We need to go. She went around and climbed into the cab. The two girls stood facing him and Emma was already crying. She hugged him quickly around the waist and ran and climbed up into the truck and buried her face in her mother’s lap.

I’ll write you, Dena said. Don’t forget.

I won’t.

She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek, then stood back and looked at him, and he stood watching her, his hands in his pockets, looking forlorn and desolate already, and then she turned and got into the truck. The truck started up and she sat at the window, lifting her hand, waving slightly, whispering good-bye to him, and he stood on the curb until they had pulled away and had turned the corner and disappeared.

After they were gone he went up on the porch and looked through the front window. All empty inside, it looked strange to him now. He walked around behind into the alley past the widows’ houses and the vacant lot and his grandfather’s house.

T
HE LITTLE WOODEN SHED WAS DIM AND FILLED WITH
shadows. He lit one of the candles and sat down at the table, looking around at the dark back wall and the shelf. The candlelight was flickering and dancing on the walls. There was little to see. The framed picture of the baby Jesus hanging on the wall. Some of their board games. Old plates and pieces of silverware in a box. It didn’t feel good in the shed without her. Nothing there was the same. He whistled through his teeth, softly, a tune he thought of. Then he stopped. He stood and blew out the candle and went outside and fastened the latch. He stood looking for a long time at the old abandoned house across the backyard grown up in weeds, the old black Desoto rusting among the bushes. Then he entered the alley once more. Night was falling. He’d have to go home and make supper. His grandfather would be waiting. It was already past the hour at which his grandfather wanted his supper.