Prayers and Lies (25 page)

“Hold on now, Belle. Slow down. Are you sure she …?”

He paused again, the frown deepening across his face. Then he noticed us standing there, watching.

Cupping his hand over the mouthpiece, he said firmly, “You girls go on in the other room, now. This is nothing to do with you.”

I followed Melinda into the living room. Then she motioned me to follow her down the hall into Mother’s room.

She closed the door behind us quietly.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Shhhhhh,” she shushed me urgently, reaching for the phone by the bed.

My eyes widened in disbelief as she gently rocked the receiver from its cradle, lifted it to her ear, and motioned for me to come closer. Even from across the room, I could hear Belle’s booming voice.

“Oh, it’s bad, Jimmy, it’s real bad. I put her in the car and drove her up to the doctor at St. Albans myself. She’s got a broke wrist, of course. And he says probably some broke ribs, too. And the bruises are terrible, Jimmy. I never seen anyone so beat up before.”

“Where is Jolene now?” Daddy’s voice was grim.

“God alone knows, Jimmy.” Belle sighed so deep I could almost feel it right through the phone line.

“After Ray pulled her off Reana Mae, she swung at him, too. Can you believe it? Swung at him hard, like she’d take his head right off, if she could. Then she tore off down the road, screamin’ at the top of her lungs for everyone to hear how her own daughter ain’t nothing but a tramp and a whore.

“I couldn’t hardly believe it, Jimmy. I seen Jolene lose it before, but not like this. She kept yellin’ about how everyone thought
she
was so bad, but at least
she
never had sex with her own kin-blood uncle. It was like she was possessed.”

Melinda gasped quietly at this, her eyes widening in horror.

I was shaking all over, shaking so bad I had to sit down on Mother’s bed.

Jolene had found out, then.

She knew about Reana Mae and Caleb. And Belle knew, too.

Probably everyone on the river knew.

“Well, it’s bad, Belle. I’ll give you that. But I don’t know how we …”

“You got to, Jimmy.” Aunt Belle’s voice was urgent. I could almost see her gripping the phone, nodding her head firmly. “You know you got to. She’s family. Just like you was family when I took you in to be my own.”

“But I was just a baby, Belle. And you didn’t have kids.” Daddy’s voice shook. “Reana Mae, why … she’s a full-grown girl, Belle. A full-grown girl who’s got herself a whole boatload of troubles. I don’t think she’d be good for my girls, living here with us. I mean … Lord, Belle! Bethany is only thirteen….”

“Bethany is exactly why Reana Mae needs to be with you, son.” Belle’s voice was soft, but firm. “Why, Bethany and Helen are the only family Reana has, besides me. They’re the only ones she trusts in the world.”

“What about Ray?” Daddy asked weakly.

“Oh, Ray … Good Lord, Jimmy, Ray’s an old man. He’s about wore out hisself. He already raised two hellcats. He can’t take on a third … not at his age. Not since Loreen died.”

“But, Belle,” Daddy started again, “what about …”

“Now you listen to me, James Winston Wylie. You and Helen are the only chance this child’s got. I know it will be trouble. You don’t have to tell me about that. But you got to do this. I can’t, Jimmy, I’m too old … and Reana Mae, she’s just too wild. But Helen can. And I know she’ll want to. And you know it, too. You got to take her, son. That’s all there is to it.”

“Can’t we wait and see if Jolene’s gonna calm down?” Daddy pleaded. “Maybe once she’s had some time to cool off, she’ll …”

“Lord have mercy, Jimmy, what ocean are you swimmin’ in? Jo-lene ain’t never gonna cool off. She’s got that bad blood, for sure. She’s been mean to Reana Mae since the day she was born, and now she flat-out hates her. Jolene blames Reana as much as she blames Caleb.”

“Where
is
Caleb?” Daddy asked this as if it had just occurred to him.

“Oh, he lit out right quick once he saw Jolene knew. Tore off down the road like lightning, never even looked back. Probably a good thing, too, ’cause she still has that gun. Bobby Lee’s rifle, I mean. She’d killed him if she could.”

I sat as still as I could, bunching Mother’s clean white bedspread in my fists, listening hard and desperately fighting a tickle in my throat. I never have been able to sit in silence. Soon as it gets too quiet, I have to sneeze or cough or hiccup. It never fails.

Finally, I couldn’t help it. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could. Of course, that soft clearing coincided with a short break in the conversation on the phone. Melinda stared at me in consternation as Daddy yelled, “Who’s that on the line?”

Melinda returned the receiver to its cradle and we both ran for the door, but before we could reach it, Daddy flung it open.

“What in the hell do you two think you’re doing?” he roared, his face a splotchy purple.

“You go to your rooms. Right now! And don’t even
think
about coming out, you hear me?”

Melinda ran down the hall toward her room, and I pounded up the stairs to mine. After a while I heard the front door open downstairs. Mother was home. Soon after that, Tracy stomped loudly up the steps.

“What’s going on?” she hissed, seeing me. “Daddy said I had to go right to my room. I didn’t even do anything.”

I gave her the vaguest answer I could think of.

“Aunt Belle called. Jolene beat up Reana Mae real bad, and Belle thinks we should bring her up here.”

I didn’t mention the reason for the beating. I really did not want Tracy to know about that.

“What?” Tracy stared at me, her mouth agape. “Why should we bring her here? Why can’t she stay with Aunt Belle, or Uncle Ray, or … or somebody else down there?”

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. I knew Tracy wouldn’t want Reana Mae to come.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she spat, flopping back onto her bed. “It’s bad enough having you here all the time. But that … that hillbilly … in my house … I might as well just dig myself a hole and never come out.”

I turned my back to her and lay quietly on my bed, wishing Tracy would just go away. But of course she couldn’t. We were stuck there together until Mother or Daddy said we could come down.

Just before nine, Mother’s heels clicked up the stairs. Her face was pinched and creased like I’d never seen it before. Her beautiful dyed-black curls were flattened on one side of her head; her eyes were puffy and red.

She sat down on Tracy’s bed, pulled both of us close, and explained in her soft, unwavering voice that tomorrow Daddy would be driving down to the Coal River to bring Reana Mae home to stay with us. After Christmas, Tracy would move into Nancy’s room in the basement, when Nancy went back to college. Reana Mae would share the attic room with me.

“Can I go with him to get Reana?” I asked.

“Not this time, Bethany,” Mother said firmly. “This time your daddy needs to go alone.”

“But why did Jolene …?” Tracy asked.

“It’s no good even asking, Tracy,” Mother said firmly. “It’s not anything I want to talk with you about. Done is done. Jolene is sick, and Reana Mae needs us. She’s family. That’s all there is to it.”

She turned to me and said, “That’s all anyone needs to know.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded. The lump in my throat felt so big I could hardly swallow.

Mother kissed both of us, then heard our prayers and clicked back down the stairs.

Daddy left early the next morning. I watched him pull away in the station wagon before the sun even came up. Then I dressed for school.

That night, Mother took me to the shopping center, where we bought sheets and blankets and a pillow for the bed she had ordered from Sears. We also picked out some Christmas gifts for Reana Mae, so she would have something to open on Christmas with the rest of us. Mother chose dark green pants and a matching sweater, a blue coat with a fur-lined hood, and some bright-colored hair ribbons. I found an Elvis Presley album I thought Reana would like and some cherry-flavored lip gloss. Finally, I put a small, locked journal on the pile at the sales counter. Mother smiled and nodded.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Bethany,” she said as she counted out the money. “Your Aunt Belle says Reana Mae is quite a writer.”

I wondered if Reana had been able to retrieve her old journal from its hiding place in the woods. She must have gone back for it. She wouldn’t just leave it there. What if someone found it?

I realized then, with a lurch in my stomach, that it didn’t matter, really, if someone found it now. Everyone knew anyway.

I swallowed hard, my eyes stinging again. If only she had listened to Harley Boy that night last July. If only she had stopped meeting Caleb then. If only Caleb had never come to live with Bobby Lee and Jolene.

If only I had told Mother last summer, maybe she could have stopped Reana Mae from getting hurt.

“Are you all right?”

Mother was staring at me, her hand reaching for my forehead. “You look like you’re going to be sick, honey. Are you okay?”

I nodded, gulping and blinking furiously.

Mother picked up our bags, took my hand, and led me to the ladies’ room. There, she felt my forehead again and told me we would stay a few minutes, just in case I needed to throw up.

“Goodness knows you’re upset,” she said, her own eyes bright with tears. “It’s something you ought never to have even known about. Something that never should have happened.”

“I already knew, Mama,” I said.

Her hand, stroking my bangs, froze.

“What?”

“I knew already.” I plunged ahead, my words tumbling out in a jumble of fear and relief. “I knew, and I didn’t tell you.”

“What are you talking about, Bethany?”

Mother leaned forward, her eyes staring straight into mine.

“I found out,” I whispered, “last summer … on the Fourth of July. We … I mean, I … well, really, me and Ruthann and Harley Boy … we were in the woods, trying to make a path, you know? Trying to make a path from our house to the beach. And, we … that is, Harley … well, we found the place where … where …”

“Where what, Bethany?” Mother’s voice was low, urgent. Her hands were on either side of my face, so I couldn’t look away from her.

“Where Reana Mae and Caleb … where they did it.”

My voice came out in a strangled kind of croak. Never in my lifetime would I have imagined saying those words to my mother. My mother, who had worked so diligently to protect us from anything harsh or crass or painful. My mother, who prayed on her knees every blessed morning and night that her girls would grow up innocent, in grace and truth. My mother, whom I had never heard utter a swearword, who had never spoken ill of anyone in my hearing.

Frightened, I stared into my mother’s familiar face and saw an expression there I had never seen before.

I stepped back, away from that face, pushing her hands from me and turning toward the wall.

She didn’t say anything for a while. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even seem to breathe. Then, I felt her reach for me. And when I turned back, she was just Mother again, her dear, calm, familiar face staring sadly into mine. Tears dripped from her chin, but I don’t think she realized it. At least, she didn’t wipe them away.

“Oh, Bethy,” she whispered. Her voice sounded like it came from someplace far away. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you … oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

She pulled me to her, hugging me tight. And we both cried, right there in the ladies’ room at the JC Penney store. I cried until my stomach hurt and my head ached. I was so glad, so relieved to finally tell her. The secret wasn’t mine to carry anymore. I didn’t have to lie, or hide, or worry. Mother would take care of it, just like she always did.

Eventually, we snuffled to a stop. Mother pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes and nose, then handed it to me. She turned toward the mirror and grimaced.

“Well, neither of us is fit to be seen. But I suppose we can’t stay in here forever,” she said firmly, touching her finger to her smudged lipstick.

We walked out of the ladies’ room and straight through the store toward the exit and the bus stop. Mother never turned her eyes to the left or right, just stared straight ahead, her chin held high. I could see the saleslady in the lingerie department stare as we passed. Mother was puffy-eyed and blotchy, and I knew I must be a terrible sight … my eyes swollen, my nose a vivid crimson, my cheeks blotched. Still, Mother pulled me along and I followed.

When the bus arrived, she put the packages on the seat in front of us, unbuttoned her coat, then turned to me again.

“Bethany Marie,” she said very quietly. “I’m sorry you had to know about this. It’s the kind of thing I thought … well, the kind of thing we’ve tried hard to keep away from you girls.”

She paused, breathing deeply and visibly steeling herself. But she never took her eyes from mine.

“Life can be so hard, Bethy, especially down there … down south, I mean. My mother … Lord, my mama had a real hard time, just even getting by. She struggled so hard, you know?”

Her voice had a soft twang, the kind I would recognize instantly as Belle’s or Reana Mae’s. I’d never heard my mother’s voice twang like that. She usually spoke so carefully.

I nodded, as if I understood. But of course I didn’t. I had never met my maternal grandmother. She had died a few months before I was born, and Mother didn’t talk about her except to say things like “Oh, that was my mother’s recipe” or “My mother always said, ‘Clean house, clean heart.’”

In my own adolescent mind, then, my maternal grandmother was a cook of good food and a very clean housekeeper—nothing more. Daddy’s family was my family. I had Aunt Belle. I had not thought much about Mother’s past. She was just Mother, after all.

“My mama had a real hard time just keeping us fed.” Mother sighed.

I wasn’t sure who she meant by “us.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” she added quickly, glancing away briefly, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief again. “My father … well, he was …” She stopped, breathed heavily, and looked back at me.