Authors: V.C. Andrews
“My name's Tommy,” he said, “Tommy Edwards. It's just my wife and myself here. Her name's Anita. Right this way, girls,” he said leading us up the steps and over the porch to the front door.
The aroma of something delicious hit us the moment we entered.
Tommy Edwards smiled at us.
“Bacon and eggs,” he said. “'Nita,” he called. The four of us closed against each other. Crystal had a streak of dirt across her forehead. Raven's hair was wild. We were all still wearing three shirts. I was sure we were a sight to behold.
Anita Edwards came from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She wore dungarees and
a light blue cotton shirt. Her hair was as long as Raven's and just as dark. She had the same dark eyes, too. Her features were small and about as perfect as any woman's nose and mouth could be. She had high cheekbones and a lightly tanned complexion. Despite her looking not much more than thirty, there was something old in her eyes, something tired, painful. She gazed at us with interest and looked to Tommy.
“I found them by the rocks. Their car had broken down and they had walked a ways. They slept there last night,” he explained. Before she could ask, he added, “I guess they must have gotten lost. They didn't realize they were on the reservation.”
She stepped closer. Her lips were soft and full. There was a hint of a warm smile in them, but it was as if everything had to be kept tightly controlled, her looks, her words, her feelings.
“Come with me,” she said, “and I'll show you all where to wash up.”
“Great,” Tommy said. He looked at us with a more official face. “Then we'll talk over breakfast.”
“This way,” Anita said, leading us through the house. The kitchen was in the rear, but the living room was on the left and the bedrooms on the right. We passed what looked like a denâoffice, too. The walls were covered with Western art, beautiful skins, woven blankets, ritual masks, guns, bows and arrows. On the floor were bowls and small statues. There was even Native American art in the bathroom.
“Go right in,” she told us and then brought in some towels.
“Thank you,” I said. She handed us the towels and told us to come to the dining room when we were finished.
âI'm going to jump into the shower,” Raven said, eying the shower stall covetously.
“Be my guest,” I said. I just washed my hands and face, as did Crystal and Butterfly, so we were out first, now wearing only one shirt each. Anita had already placed four more settings on the table.
“Sit here,” she ordered, pointing to the chairs on the sides of the table. “Where's your friend?”
“She's taking a shower,” I replied. She raised her eyebrows and came the closest to a real smile or laugh.
Tommy returned before Raven came out of the bathroom.
“I'm about as hungry as a bear,” he said, winking at us.
Raven entered, looking fresh, her hair back. I pointed to her seat and she joined us just as Anita brought in the plate of eggs and bacon.
“You girls hungry?” Tommy asked.
“Hungrier than a bear,” Raven said.
He laughed.
“All right, why don't you tell us your names?” he said. We went around the table. As we did, Anita poured water into our glasses.
“Don't wait for me,” she said, and returned to the kitchen.
“You heard her, girls, dig in,” Tommy said, and we did.
“Thank you,” Crystal said. We all followed with thank you's as we took from the serving dish. Anita finally sat and ate. She seemed to do it mechanically and not with any real appetite.
“So,” Tommy said when we were all close to finishing, “tell me how you girls ended up sleeping by the rocks. Where are you from?”
Raven looked at Crystal and Crystal looked at
me. Butterfly had been watching Anita with interest and I had noticed her looking at Butterfly too, a small smile on her lips.
“You're going to find out anyway, Mr. Edwards,” I said. “We ran away from a foster home in New York. We took our foster father's car and we were finally caught the day before yesterday.”
Tommy sat back and looked at Anita, who shook her head.
“You were caught but you drove out here? I don't understand,” he said.
“Our foster father came for us. He came for us mainly because he had a package of cocaine hidden under the back seat of the car. We found it quite by accident and threw it away,” I continued. “We were afraid to tell him. We pretended we were taking him to where we had buried it and last night, after he had gotten us to a motel, I snuck out while he was asleep and we ran away again. And then we ran out of gas,” I said.
“We were frightened and just drove off, not paying attention to where we were going,” Crystal added.
“Now that's quite a story,” Tommy Edwards said.
“Why did you go back with him?” Anita asked sharply.
“If we didn't agree to go back with our foster father, we were all going to jail for stealing his car and we were afraid of being split apart,” Raven explained.
“We're sisters,” I said. “We have to stay together.”
“We don't have any money,” Crystal said. “We're afraid of what he's going to do to us, especially now.”
“I see,” Tommy said and thought a moment. “Well, we have something of a situation here.”
“Will he find us?” Butterfly asked.
“Not here he won't,” Tommy said. He looked at Anita. “I'll go make a few calls.”
She nodded.
“Can I help you with the dishes?” Butterfly asked Anita.
“Why thank you,” Anita said, her face brightening with a genuine smile.
Butterfly started to clean the table. Tommy rose and left us.
“The rest of you can go into the living room if you like,” Anita said.
“Thank you,” Crystal said.
“I guess we're going to be going back to jail,” Raven said when we sat in the living room.
“What else are we going to do?” Crystal said. “No one wants us and returning to Lakewood isn't what we want. I'm tired,” she said, sinking further into the chair. “I'm tired of the struggle.”
“Wonderful,” Raven muttered. Her eyes went to the mantel and then she stood up and went to look at the pictures. I sat there feeling as if I could burst into tears at any moment. “Look,” Raven said, “they have a baby girl.”
She brought the picture of the three of them to show to Crystal and me.
“Please don't handle my pictures,” Anita said from the doorway.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I was just admiring your baby,” Raven said. “Where is she? Sleeping?”
Butterfly came in and looked at the picture.
“Yes, she's sleeping. In the ground,” Anita said coldly.
All of us looked at her, no one able to utter a
sound. She saw how hard the news hit us and softened.
“We lost her when she was a little more than three. She would have been five next month. She had a problem with a valve in her heart.”
“We're very sorry, Mrs. Edwards,” Crystal said.
Anita took the picture from Raven and looked at it a moment.
“Her name was Annie,” she said, “named for my mother. Now they're together.” She put the picture back on the mantel and turned to look at us, deep lines cutting across her forehead as the pain of her loss returned.
“One day,” she said, “the light goes out of your life. It's like a candle flickering and flickering and suddenly, a wind comes and there is only darkness.”
She sucked back her tears and pressed her lips together. Then she took a deep breath.
“My husband will help you. You can wait here or go outside if you like,” she said and walked out of the room.
“How sad.” Raven said.
“She looked at me and started to cry in the kitchen,” Butterfly revealed. “Then she said, just leave the dishes. You can go back to your sisters.”
“I feel bad for her,” Raven said.
The air around us felt too heavy to breathe.
“I'm going out,” I announced and rose from my seat.
When I stepped out, I looked around and saw a tractor parked next to the barn with its engine cover up. There were tools on the ground. Curious, I started for it. It looked like Tommy Edwards was replacing spark plugs. I saw that he had the manual
out by his tools, so I sat on the ground and studied it, thinking of Todd and how much I missed him.
“There's always something to get after around a ranch,” I heard Tommy say as he came out of the house and approached.
I dropped the manual and stood up quickly.
“I didn't mean to frighten you, Brooke,” he said. “I had to contact the FBI office about your foster father's car and all you told me, Brooke. The FBI is involved in any crimes committed on or involving Indian reservations. We police ourselves, too, but I thought that was best. I don't want the other girls to get frightened about it.”
“I'll explain it,” I said.
“They'll go over that vehicle from top to bottom and see if there is any evidence left. Whether there is or not, he'll have some explaining to do. I've also contacted the Child Protection Services about you girls. They're sending someone up, but it will be a while. They have to come from Albuquerque and they are quite understaffed.”
“I don't mind how long it takes. I don't think any of us do,” I said.
Tommy started working on the tractor and I headed back to the house to break the news. I found Raven coming out the back door.
“What's wrong?” Raven cried when she saw the look on my face.
“Tommy told me he had to contact the FBI.”
“The FBI?”
“They have to be contacted when there is a question of a crime on Indian reservations. It's not just because of us,” I added quickly.
“You're not worried?” Raven asked.
“About what?”
“Maybe they'll arrest us for not turning in the cocaine. We could go to a federal prison!”
“I doubt it,” I said. “Where are Crystal and Butterfly? We have to let them know.”
“Butterfly went back into the kitchen to help Anita. Funny, how she's not shy with her. I think it's because she feels sorry for her. Crystal says Butterfly is drawn to other people's sadness like a moth to a flame.”
I smiled.
“Yes,” I said. “I guess she is.”
We heard the barn door slide open and turned to see Tommy leading a palomino. The horse had a limp in its right rear leg.
“How's it going?” he called.
“Okay,” I said. Crystal and I walked toward him. “What's wrong with your horse?”
“She stepped in a gopher hole. The vet says she'll be fine, but I've got to give her a good half-hour or so of exercise twice a day.” He looked at Raven. “Think you can do this awhile?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Just walk Pony Tail in a circle,” he said.
“Me?” She looked at me and then at Tommy.
“Sure,” he said. “She's a pussy cat,” he added, handing her the reins.
Raven took them, looked at the horse and then at me again before starting forward, her face full of fear and excitement. The horse followed obediently.
“That's it, keep that pace,” Tommy called to her. She nodded and walked on, looking as proud as I had ever seen her.
“I told Tommy I was going to explain to Butterfly about the FBI,” I called to Raven, and headed back toward the house. As I passed the front of the
house, Crystal came out with a book in her hand. She saw me, smiled with curiosity and then looked at Raven.
“Butterfly all right?”
“She's fine. Anita is showing her how to weave on her loom,” she said.
“I've got bad news, Crystal,” I began. “Tommy called the FBI. He had to.”
Crystal nodded knowingly. “I figured he'd have to report us.”
Before we could go inside to tell Butterfly we saw a car approaching in the distance. Probably the Child Protection Services, I thought. My optimism had a short life. It was a dark blue car and two men in suits emerged to talk to Tommy. He turned and beckoned to Crystal and me. Raven was walking the horse in circles and Butterfly was still inside with Anita.
“Brooke, Crystal, this is Special Agent Wilkins and Special Agent Milton of the FBI,” Tommy said. “They want to question you about your foster father and what you girls found.”
“Okay,” I said. “But Raven should be in on this too.”
Tommy took the horse from Raven and she joined the two of us on the porch. We told the FBI agents everything about our flight from the Lakewood House, how we found the cocaine, about where we dumped it, and what happened afterward. Tommy joined us after he had put Pony Tail back in her stall.
“Our forensic man found the residue,” Agent Wilkins told Tommy. “They're telling us the truth about it. What are you doing about them?”
“We've contacted Child Protection and they're coming up later today.”
“Okay. We just want to know where they are,” Agent Wilkins said.
We watched them leave.
“You did good, girls,” Tommy said.
“There's Butterfly,” Raven said, looking toward the chicken coop.
She was walking toward us excitedly, Anita at her side carrying a basket.
“I picked the eggs!” she cried. “By myself. You have to nudge the hens a little, but they don't peck you,” she explained.
Anita stepped up beside her. There was a different look in her face. It was as if she had woken from a dream. Her eyes looked brighter and her lips softer, more willing to form a smile.
“We're going to make a cake,” she said.
“I'm helping,” Butterfly declared. “Right, Anita?”
“Yes,” she said. “We'll have lunch in about a half-hour,” she added to Tommy. “You going to be around?”
“Sure,” he said. “Maybe afterward, I'll take the girls for a short ride on the horses.”
“If they like,” Anita said.