Prayers and Lies (20 page)

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Authors: Sherri Wood Emmons

BOOK: Prayers and Lies
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“Well, Bethany is looking for some things for Mother,” she cooed at him. “But I came looking for you.”

A sudden break in the conversation at the back of the store told me that Reana Mae had heard them.

“Well!” Caleb sounded mighty pleased with himself, and mighty pleased with Nancy, too. “Then what can I do for
you
?”

Nancy took him by the elbow and steered him deftly toward the front door. I knew she wouldn’t ask for help in front of me. Smiling, I began filling my basket. I had just checked shampoo off the list when I felt rather than heard Reana Mae behind me. Starting slightly, I turned to see her staring at me mutely, her green cat-eyes open wide, her mouth set grimly.

“Where’d they go?” she whispered.

I shrugged. I did not care where they had gone. And I didn’t understand why Reana Mae should care, either. I certainly was not going to be drawn into some soap opera triangle consisting of my sister, my cousin, and her eighteen-year-old uncle.

Reana Mae left me in the aisle, heading for the front door to find Caleb and Nancy. I went on about my shopping, refusing to give in to the temptation to follow her.

By the time my basket was full, Caleb was back at the cash register. Reana Mae stood behind him, looking miserable.

I handed Caleb the money as quickly as I could, smiled uncertainly at Reana Mae, and fled with my shopping toward home and Mother.

17
Independence Day_______

J
uly Fourth brought a festival kind of feeling to the valley. Of course, up in Charleston they had a real celebration, complete with a big fireworks display. But along the Coal River, the Fourth of July meant picnics, Roman candles, and free-flowing beer. Every year, we walked to the beach to cook hot dogs and marshmallows over a huge open fire and watch Bobby Lee and the other men set off illegal fireworks from across the river. This year, Bobby Lee was conspicuously absent—gone away to Phoenix in his rig, Reana Mae said. But Uncle Hobie, Albus Greenaway, and even old Uncle Ray were planning a big display, and us kids were all excited.

That morning, I met Ruthann early and we walked to the beach to swim in the gloriously cool water. I couldn’t remember such a muggy, steamy summer as we were having. I had spent most days at the beach with Ruthann, staving off the suffocating heat in the muddy river, emerging only after the midday sun’s rays had diffused and the mosquitoes started swarming.

We laid out our towels near the water, staking out spots early for the fireworks. I wondered briefly if Reana Mae would join us, then remembered she was helping in Ray’s store that day. Sighing, I stared at the water swirling slowly past, wondering idly how long it took to reach the Gulf of Mexico.

“Hey there.”

Harley Boy dropped down beside me, his sunburned nose reflecting the morning sun.

I smiled up at him. H.B. joined us almost every day. Ruthann and I were poor substitutes for Reana Mae, but I suppose we were better than nothing.

“You gonna swim across tonight?” Ruthann asked him, leaning on one elbow.

“Grandmaw says I can’t,” H.B. fumed. “Granddad’s goin’, and he said I could go with him. But she says no.”

I raised my eyebrows at Ruthann. She smiled back, saying innocently, “I guess she thinks it’s too dangerous for you over there.”

H.B. grimaced. “Naw, she just don’t want me over there ’cause she knows they’ll be drinkin’ spirits.”

Ruthann laughed. “Just beer,” she said. “My daddy always takes over some beers.”

“I know.” H.B. nodded. “But Grandmaw don’t want me around even that.” He kicked absently at the sand. “She wouldn’t let Granddad go neither, if she could help it. But she can’t stop him.”

We leaned back in one, unison movement, covering our eyes against the sun’s gathering strength. For a while, no one spoke. I heard my sisters’ voices on the road. They’d be joining us soon.

Sure enough, within minutes Nancy, Melinda, and Tracy were spreading their towels on the ground behind us. Melinda and Nancy were discussing the latest news on Mick Jagger. Tracy began scribbling yet another letter to Paul.

Ruthann grinned at me. “Wanna go?” she said.

I nodded and we walked into the river, squealing at the cold water until we were waist-deep. Then we dove under and swam out to the raft, H.B. close behind us. Pulling ourselves onto the raft, we congratulated each other on escaping the crowd, then dropped down on our stomachs in silence again.

Along toward noon, H.B. sat up abruptly, saying impatiently, “Let’s do somethin’!”

Ruthann nodded. “It’s purely dull out here.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “What?”

H.B. was standing on the edge of the raft, shading his eyes with one hand. “Last summer, Reana Mae said her and Caleb had cut a path all the way from her house down to the beach.”

“Yeah, but we never found it,” Ruthann said. “I don’t believe they really did it.”

“Let’s go look for it,” H.B. said, setting his shoulders. “Maybe we’ll find it. If not,” he added, staring into the woods darkly, “maybe we’ll just make one of our own.”

We swam back to shore, grabbing up our towels and drying off.

“Where are you going?” Tracy frowned at me as we walked toward the woods.

“For a hike,” I said over my shoulder.

“Lord God Almighty, does she think she’s your mama?” Ruthann whispered viciously. I laughed.

We followed H.B. as he hacked through the brush with a large stick. The last time I tried to make my own path, I’d seen Tracy burying Essie in the mud. It seemed so long ago.

Within minutes, my legs were scratched and bleeding. Ruthann and I struggled to keep up with H.B. Finally, Ruthann called out, “H.B., wait up! You’re goin’ too fast!”

But he didn’t stop. We watched him whacking at the bushes furiously, as if he held a personal grudge against each one. Ruthann smiled at me uncertainly. “He’s been fumin’ over that path all year,” she explained. “It’s something he and Reana Mae always talked about when we were kids, and then she and Caleb went and did it without him.”

I nodded grimly, swiping at the sweat dripping into my eyes.

“Okay, then, let’s find it,” I said.

We trudged along behind him, shoving aside the brush as best we could with our bare hands. Suddenly, Harley stopped so abruptly that Ruthann nearly plowed into him. Drawing close behind them, I heard Harley’s quick intake of breath. Ruthann turned to stare at me, her eyes wide. Peering over Ruthann’s shoulder, I gripped her arm tightly.

In a small clearing before us lay an old mattress covered with a blue and white quilt we all recognized as Reana Mae’s—Loreen had sewn it for her before she was born, when everyone hoped she’d be a boy. Reana used to carry it everywhere when she was little. A small portable radio sat on a wooden box beside the mattress. The ground was littered with small squares of plastic packages, each torn through at the top.

Harley picked one of the plastic squares up from the ground. Over his shoulder I read the word
Trojan
. Even I knew what they were. Melinda had told me once when we found a package like that in the alley near our house. I stared at the package, trying to understand what I already knew but couldn’t believe.

Harley Boy’s hands shook as he threw the package to the ground. He dropped to his knees on the mattress and pulled the blanket off, then lifted the pillow, as if he thought he might find Reana Mae hiding beneath it. Finally, he rocked back onto his haunches and looked up at us. His face was red and tight.

“I’ll kill him,” he hissed.

“Come on, H.B.,” Ruthann whispered, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go.” She looked to me for support. “Let’s go now, before anyone comes down here.”

I could only nod, my eyes stinging back tears. This is where Reana Mae came when she disappeared into the woods. This is where she’d spent so much time all summer, instead of going to the beach with me. This … this is what she’d been doing. My stomach lurched and I thought I might just throw up.

“Come on!” Ruthann urged again, pulling at Harley’s shoulder. But he didn’t move. He sat still clutching the pillow, staring at the ground.

Suddenly, he leaned forward, reaching for something behind where Ruthann and I stood.

“What’s that?” Ruthann asked as he sat back on the mattress. He was holding a small book.

Still Harley said nothing. Ruthann looked at me again, as if I might answer her question. But I was as confused as she was. Both of us dropped to the ground beside Harley Boy, neither of us touching the mattress. He held the book out so we could see it, then silently opened it.

The lined pages were filled with a familiar handwriting in purple ink. It was Reana Mae’s.

March 6
Dear Diary,
Today is my birthday. I am 11 yrs old now. Only 2 more years til I can marry Caleb. He says I am almost a real woman.
Aunt Belle said I shoud write every day so I can practise. She thinks I will be a writer some day. I read about William Falkner in a magazine once. He was a famus writer and he lived in a hore house. I told Caleb that and he laffed. He said it would be ok to live in a hore house. He says stuff like that some times.
Caleb gave me a pretty nitegown for my birthday. It is green and short and has lace on it. I can’t wear it when mama is at home. She wood not like it. But next time she stays out I will wear it for Caleb. It is a sexy nitegown. He says I will look sexy in it. I hope I do.

“Sweet Jesus,” Ruthann whispered. “Put it back, Harley Boy.”

She tried to take the book from him, but he shoved her hand away and began turning the pages fast. When he stopped turning, Ruthann and I both leaned in to read.

June 6
Dear Diary,
Today Caleb put his mouth on my brests without my shirt on. He says they are beutiful. He says that I am beutiful. More than my mama ever was. He says she is trashy but I am not. I was real scared when he took off my shirt. I was scared some one wood see us. But no one did.
Caleb kissed my brests and then he put his teeth on them. It hurt some. But I didnt make him stop. He was breething real hard. I know he liked it. Now maybe he will stop looking at Nancys tits all the time.

I felt my throat constrict. Tears ran down my face. Why, oh why, couldn’t Nancy have sparked Caleb’s interest earlier? Before … this?

Ruthann held my hand tightly. Harley Boy’s face was dark and angry as he flipped pages.

June 12
Dear Diary,
Yesterday Caleb put his fingers inside me. It hurt at first but I didn’t cry or nothing. He said since I am 11 now and getting some brests I am ready to be a woman. He has been asking since I let him put his mouth on my brests. He says I am ready now. First he put 1 finger in. Then he put 2. He says when he can put 3 in that he can love me like he wants to.
Then he made me put my mouth on his thing again. I don’t like that but Caleb says it is what women do when they love a man. And I do love him. So he said I had to proov it. But I don’t like it.
June 20
Dear Diary,
Today I am a real woman. It was not like I thout it wood be. It hurt and I bled some. But I love him. And I know he loves me to. And that is what people do who love each other. He used a rubber so I won’t get pregnent. I don’t want a baby til we are married. Then I want a little boy baby. I will be a good mother.
Caleb said next time it wont hurt so bad. And he kissed me all over my face when I cried. So I know he loves me true.
But it did hurt.

“Stop!” I heard the words come from my mouth before I even knew I was speaking. “Put it back, Harley.” I was desperate to leave this place, to return to the beach, to safety, to ignorance.

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