Rorey's Secret (26 page)

She looked at me kinda scared. “What would he do if it was you?”

“Scream a while. You know ’bout that. What all else, I ain’t for sure this time. I wouldn’t worry too much, though, ’cause he favors you.”

“Not no more’n Sam or Harry or Kirk—”

I didn’t even answer. If she didn’t know, there wasn’t no use tellin’ her. Rorey was no angel. Never had been no angel. But Pa wasn’t one to correct her over nothin’, nor even to notice her needin’ correction. Lizbeth’d notice. But the last few years, ’tween school and then gettin’ married, Lizbeth wasn’t around much.

“How come you ain’t never told the Worthams about Pa?” Rorey asked me all of a sudden.

“What about Pa? They see plenty of him.”

“You know what I mean. How come you ain’t never told ’em about him whippin’ you?”

“He’s lit in to Harry and Willy a few times too,” I said, wishing she’d quit talkin’ and get back to headin’ home like we were supposed to.

“Not so much as you,” she persisted. “I figured a long time ago you’d tell. Mr. Wortham, he’d set Pa down for a talkin’ to. He’s partial to you, an’ he wouldn’t like it.”

“They’re always dealin’ with things. They don’t need no more.”

“Willy says you’re too yellow. Scared even to tell, ’cause Pa’ll lick you worse.”

It shouldn’t have been no surprise that Willy and Rorey’d been discussin’ me like that. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say nothin’.

“You think he’ll beat me?”

“I don’t know, Rorey. Won’t be bad with Lizbeth there. She can rein him in pretty good, most times. But I reckon you’ll jus’ have to take whatever he gives ’cause he’s your pa.” I almost wanted to tell her she had it coming, but I didn’t add that part. I guess I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he was really hard on her. And I didn’t know why she was askin’ ’bout the way he treated me. It never seemed to matter to her before.

She got up and started walking again. “Franky?”

“What?”

“Are you really scared to tell?”

Her askin’ me again made me mad, but I wasn’t gonna say so. “Are you?” I demanded. “I ain’t heard you nor Willy sayin’ nothin’ to the Worthams ’bout it neither!”

“I guess we don’t wanna talk about our pa.”

“Well, I guess I’m the same way, then. The Bible says to honor your father and your mother, an’ we only got Pa left, an’ I ain’t gonna go turnin’ nobody against him.”

She was quiet a while. We went on walking. “Once in a while Lizbeth asks me how Pa’s been with you,” she finally said. “I think she figures you wouldn’t tell her straight.”

“I sure wouldn’t lie.”

“But you wouldn’t tell it all neither.”

“Neither would you.”

“Kirk thinks we oughta tell. ’Bout him drinkin’ again. Sam an’ Lizbeth an’ the Worthams’d all be sore upset.”

I took her arm and made her stop an’ look at me. I guess I wasn’t sure anymore what kinda stuff might be goin’ through her brain. “Don’t you be threatenin’ him to keep from gettin’ in trouble. Don’t you tell him you’ll tell if he does anythin’ to you.”

“Why not? Huh, Franky? Why shouldn’t I tell?”

“’Cause it wouldn’t be honorin’ him, especially not now. You take what you got comin’ first if it’s gotta be told.”

“That sounds like somethin’ you’d say.”

“It
is
something I’d say, ’cause I done said it! And I mean it too! Maybe we oughta tell, I don’t know. But not tonight. Tonight you gotta face up to yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith. Prove your own selves.”

“Are you talkin’ Bible again?”

“Yes. Paul said that. An’ plenty more. Now I pray to God that ye do no evil; not that we should appear approved, but that ye should do that which is honest—”

“Oh, shut up.”

I did. ’Cause it don’t do any good to give word to somebody hateful at it. But she changed her tune. At least a little bit.

“What’s that mean, anyway?”

“I think it means we’re s’posed to do what’s right, not just so we can look like good folks but because it’s right. Being honest an’ all.”

“You’re a bother to listen to sometimes.”

I guess I was feelin’ ranckled more than I ought, ’cause I answered her back. “Is the preacher a bother too?”

“Sometimes.”

She took off walkin’ fast again, and I had an awful time keepin’ up, but I sure wasn’t gonna lose sight of her. “Slow down, will you?”

“Why?” she shouted back. “Ain’t you glad I’m in a hurry? It shows I’m brave.”

“Only shows you don’t like to listen.” I said that pretty quiet. I don’t think she heard. Leastways, she didn’t slow down. We come by the pond and Mama’s grave, an’ I was feelin’ awful close to keelin’ over. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was, and here she was runnin’ me through the woods when nothin’d feel better than a bed. But I kept goin’ till she finally stopped.

She just stood real still for a while. Then she turned around and looked at the graves behind us. Mama’s under the birch trees with the flowers all around. And Mr. and Mrs. Graham’s up on the hill above the pond. I didn’t say nothin’. I just waited to see what Rorey was up to now.

“You ever think about ’em?”

“Sure. Lots. ’Specially Mama. But Mrs. Graham too. She was a real good friend to us.”

“You killed ’em both. Did you know that?”

I’d heard a’ such a thing as a spirit of lies, and I figured maybe that was what come on Rorey just then. There weren’t no sense to it, for anybody with a thinkin’ brain. I wasn’t but eight years old when Mama and Mrs. Graham died. An’ they’d both been sick a long time. I used to blame myself, ’cause crazy as it sounds, just a few days apart, I broke their clocks. Both of ’em. And even though Mrs. Graham was already dead when hers got broke, I’d felt awful bad and blamed myself. But the Worthams weren’t a wit superstitious, and they taught me better. For a minute I wondered if Rorey knew about the clocks, but I didn’t think she did.

“You made Mama sick. She was sick just birthin’ you, an’ then you made her sick worse runnin’ out lookin’ for you that icy mornin’. You remember runnin’ off, after you broke them eggs?”

“Yeah,” I said kind of quiet. I hadn’t thought on that in a long time.

“Well, that’s when Mama started gettin’ worse. An’ Mrs. Graham wouldn’t a’ took worse if she hadn’t come over in a snowstorm with Mrs. Wortham to see after Mama. It wore her out, an’ she just couldn’t handle it.”

“She wanted to come.”

“That don’t change nothin’. It was your fault.”

I didn’t answer her for a minute. Then I just started sayin’ the first Scripture to come in my head. “There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus—”

“Oh, shut up! If you ever wondered why Pa hates you, well, that’s why! ’Cause a’ Mama! He don’t say nothin’ much, but he still misses her so bad it ’bout makes him sick! He told me so! That’s why he’s drinkin’. An’ thinkin’ about goin’ to meet her—”

“Did Pa say that?”

“Oh, shut up! You know I’m not lyin’!”

“I know you are. I just ain’t sure how much of it.”

“He don’t like your smart mouth neither. You always think you know what’s right.”

“We better just go, Rorey.”

“I’ll go when I feel like it. Mr. Wortham said to see that I got there, not make me follow your lead.”

“Pride goeth before destruction,” I told her. “An’ a haughty spirit before a fall. Better it is t’ be of a humble spirit—”

“You’re drivin’ me crazy! Shut up! I oughta tell Pa that Mr. Wortham sent me over here with
you
an’ that’s punishment enough!”

I just started walkin’, figurin’ there wasn’t another thing I could do. She could follow me or not, and face up to whatever consequences were to come of it. I guess I was pretty upset with her. I hadn’t figured she’d ever be one to cry crocodile tears at me the way she’d done when she promised she wasn’t gonna see Lester no more. But she was just fudgin’ me so I wouldn’t say nothin’.

I guess a piece of me was hoping Willy had got to Turreys’ place before anybody could stop him. Then maybe Lester’d get some a’ what he had comin’. But that weren’t exactly the right way to think. And just the same way, I was kind of glad Rorey was gonna catch it for lyin’ ’bout me. But I was sorry for her too, ’cause it’s awful terrible to be lost outside of God’s righteousness and I sure hoped she’d come around to seekin’ forgiveness. Besides that, I know real well what it’s like havin’ Pa’s yelling temper turned your way. And it kind of scared me not knowin’ what he’d do.

She followed me after a little while. I didn’t reckon she figured she had much choice, since Mr. and Mrs. Wortham’d be talking to Pa soon enough.

I thought about how they’d believed Sarah even though she’d been so yellin’ upset. An’ I wished there could be days when I could count on Pa believin’ me. Did he really think I killed Mama? She’d told me once that birthin’ me was hard, but that’s the way a’ things, she’d said. Can’t be helped. She even told me she was glad I come out okay, ’cause she wondered there for a while if I would. Now I wondered how Pa felt about that. Maybe he wouldn’t have mourned too bad if I’d have died.

But that was hard stuff to think, and I pushed it out of my head. I was glad Lizbeth and Ben had stayed with Pa because that meant he wouldn’t be drunk. Nothing too awful crazy would happen. He might be mad at me for comin’, at least till he knew Mr. Wortham had sent me. But he wouldn’t never get mad at Mr. Wortham. We all owed him way too much.

21

Julia

I hated that the big boys were all gone and Samuel was hurting so bad and there was nothing at all I could do. Katie had gotten Emmie asleep upstairs. She said Sarah was asleep too, and I was glad about that because she needed it.

I prayed. I prayed that everything would come out all right tonight. We didn’t need a bit more trouble. Berty’d gone to sleep on the davenport, and I was hoping that Samuel could sleep too. But I knew he wouldn’t. He’d wait up till everybody was accounted for, just the same as I would.

Katie made me a cup of tea and warmed up what was left of the mullein and nettle tea for Samuel. I got him to sip it, but that was all. I don’t know how he’d managed getting outside and all the way to the barn. He was hurting for it now. I checked his leg and I checked him all over and couldn’t see anything worse, but that was small comfort, not being able to see on the inside.

“Can I do anything for you?” I asked him.

“No.”

“Is your head the worst again?”

“Yeah.” He kept his eyes closed, but I knew he wasn’t anywhere near sleeping. “I’ll be all right,” he told me. “I just need to lie still a while. Things are whirling again.”

“How’s your side?”

He knew the worry in my voice. “Same. Juli, it’s all right. Really.”

I didn’t believe him. And I knew that he knew I didn’t. But he’d said those words anyway, partly because he wanted me to hear them and partly for Katie, who was still close by.

“Now the house is too empty,” I said.

“Not for long.” Samuel reached his hand toward me, and I took it, hanging on to him tight.

“I hope those boys had the good sense not to go banging on Mr. and Mrs. Turrey’s door,” I told him. “What do you suppose they’d do?”

Samuel took a deep breath. “If Willy’s spoiling for a fight, he’d go banging at Turreys’, all right. Or yelling till he gets their attention. But he may be in for a surprise if Lester’s brothers are home.”

That was an unsettling thought, to say the least. “Did we do the right thing, sending Robert?”

“He won’t get in a fight over Rorey, honey. Or over George’s barn.”

“But he would over you.”

Samuel was quiet for a moment, and then he shook his head. “I should’ve gone with him.”

“No, you absolutely should not! You can’t be up like that. Don’t even think of it again, not till you’re stronger.”

“Juli—”

“We did the best we knew, sending Robert. You told him to get George if he needed help. He’s sensible. And the Hammond boys listen to him. Surely it’ll be all right. I shouldn’t have doubted. I shouldn’t have asked you about it.”

He just lay back against the pillows with barely a nod. “Sorry about this, Juli. I don’t guess I handled it very well.”

“Oh, Samuel, stop. What could either of us do?”

Katie walked up and hugged on me, and then she hugged Samuel. “You always do the best you can,” she said. “You always handle things fine. You can’t help it if other people fly off the handle in all directions.”

“Thank you,” Samuel told her.

“The only one I’m worried about is Rorey,” she continued. “If the boys all get in a fight, at least it’ll be over and done before long. But Rorey thinks she’s all grown up, and not even Sarah’s gonna change her mind about that.”

We were all quiet for a minute until the old cuckoo clock sang the hour to fill the void.
What a sensible girl Katie is,
I thought.
What a blessing to us.

We prayed together. Samuel, Katie, and I, for Robert and the other boys to return home safely and quickly. And for Rorey to realize the folly of her ways that had caused so much pain.

“Do you think Sarah knew about this before tonight?” Samuel asked me.

“Not everything. She was far too upset to be able to hold all that in. Maybe Rorey told her about the fire when she went upstairs. Or maybe she figured it out somehow, I don’t know.”

I tried to get Katie to go to bed. I knew she had to be tired. I couldn’t remember if she’d slept any through the day or not. Finally she laid herself down in one of the sitting room chairs, and I brought her a stool to put her feet on. “I wish the pastor was still here,” she said again.

“He had to go. He had to be a comfort to Dr. Howell’s family. But he’ll be back.”

Just the mention of the doctor’s wife made me remember the cake I’d made still sitting on the counter and until this moment forgotten. Why on earth hadn’t I sent it with Robert the moment we finished supper? I should’ve been thinking about that instead of reading from that book Franky brought.

But something about that book had started this whole thing tonight. Or maybe it was something about Franky. I remembered the way Sarah had looked at him before running up the stairs. That’s what it was. She must have realized he was being falsely accused, just like Silas Marner. And she wasn’t going to let it be.