The Book of James (28 page)

228

ELLEN J. GREEN

“Daddy, no . . .” She stood on the terrace and screamed after

him. “No, Daddy!”

She ran after him, but he didn’t stop. There was a small metal

cage in his other hand. The tears were coming so hard and fast

down her face. She couldn’t breathe.

“Give it to me!” She tried to wrest the cage from his hand, but

he pushed her roughly to the ground and kept walking.

Inside the cage was a baby rabbit she’d caught in the woods

some months before. He had been so small and scared when she

found him. Harry had been the one who’d gone and gotten the

cage. She took care of the bunny from that day on, feeding him

vegetables, holding him as he grew less afraid of her. At first she kept the cage in the woods. Every morning she’d run out to see him when she got up. In the afternoons, when they’d finished school,

Harry always brought a carrot or some lettuce. Then she started

bringing him into the house with her at night. She hid him on the far side of her bed. He was her friend. She unburdened her soul to him, telling him everything at the end of every day, every horrible thing her father had done to her. The rabbit looked at her with big eyes and listened. Sometimes that little animal was the thin string that kept her from falling off a very dangerous cliff.

Her father discovered her secret one night when he walked

into her room without warning. He’d heard her prattling away. But he surprised her by doing nothing. Left as he had come and said

nothing to her about it. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t seem to take

notice. She was so happy because she could keep her friend. Her

father knew, and it was okay. She’d finished her work the next day feeling happy for the first time in so long. Later in the afternoon, she took the cage and sat on the terrace. The sun was shining. It was warm. She fed him small bits of grass and waited to see her

friends in the woods.

But then her father came home. Without a word he strode

out onto the terrace, knife in hand, and yanked the cage from her THE BOOK
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hands. She tried to grab it from him, but he was stronger. Much

stronger. He said nothing, simply headed to the woods, knife in

hand. She followed, begging and crying, screaming, bargaining

until she had no words left.

Underneath the canopy of trees, he pulled the rabbit from his

cage and held him hard with one hand by the back of his neck.

The rabbit didn’t like to be held like that and struggled against the big hand, his feet moving frantical y. She could see the brown fur against her father’s pale fingers, the rabbit’s pleading eyes. But Cora was helpless. Her father looked at her while he sliced the rabbit’s neck with the knife. She sank to her knees, watching the blood drip onto the dirt.

Harry found her there later. She hadn’t come to play, so he

had come looking for her. She was lying on the ground, the rabbit in her arms, blood everywhere. He sat in the dirt with her and

stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay, Cora. I’ll take care of you.”

He wasn’t a thirteen-year-old boy. She looked up. He was a

man now. She lay on her side on the terrace, huddled in a bal .

Harry stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay, Cora,” he said, over and over. “I’ll take care of you.”

I watched from my bedroom window until most of the day’s light

disappeared over the horizon. Then I walked through the clearing

to the edge of the woods. I turned back and studied the house. I

tried to imagine the fire burning out of control in that part of the house over a hundred years ago. Cora’s grandfather had betrayed

those people he had taken in, creating a debt to humanity that was placed squarely on the back of each subsequent generation. When

would it end? How many years would it take? And more impor-

tantly, who would be next to pay down on that obligation? Not

with money but with their life.

The Coopers’ house was waiting for me; the porch light glowed

a soft yellow. I banged on the door with my knuckles and waited,

but got no answer. I knocked again. The house was dark, but I

was expecting El a or maybe Ginny to answer. Instead, the door

opened and Harrison Cooper stood before me in a bathrobe. A

long, expensive bathrobe. His hair looked slightly damp, and he

had tiny glasses perched on the end of his nose, as if he had been reading. He took them off and stared at me.

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“Sorry to bother you, Dr. Cooper, I’m here to see Ginny.” With

him there, I didn’t think I could do anything more than just go in and say hello. I expected him to tell me to leave, but he stepped back and let me in.

“She’s in her room. Her nurse is off for the evening, and I didn’t want to leave her alone. We don’t want a repeat of that evening a few weeks ago. How’s your friend’s head?”

“He’s fine. She didn’t even break the skin.”

He put his hands in the pockets of his robe. “Good, glad to

hear it. And Cora?”

“She was fine when I saw her yesterday.” He seemed to be

watching me intently. He had little eyes. Little cunning eyes. I dis-liked him immediately but wasn’t sure why.

“I was sorry to hear about Nick’s accident. Cora told me about

it. It’s sad when someone dies so young.” It sounded like he was

reading from a script.

“Yes, it is, and thank you.”

“You’ve adjusted to your loss?”

This question provoked something in me. I suddenly felt

guarded. “I’m doing the best I can, given the circumstances. I’m

trying to keep myself busy.”

“It’s very nice of you to visit Virginia the way you do.”

So he knew I’d been over before. “Yes, wel . I enjoy her com-

pany too.”

“She needs visitors—but please don’t upset her. It real y was

Cora’s place to tell her about Nick’s death. And I think Cora was going to do it at the right time. Virginia was upset for days after you left.”

Shit. What else did he know? “I’m sorry, Dr. Cooper. She asked

me outright like she already knew, and I didn’t feel right lying to her. She seemed to take it okay when I was here with her.”

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ELLEN J. GREEN

His eyes were a steel gray. They were so intense I took a step

backward. “Go on up and sit with her, if that’s what you came for, but please, think before you speak.”

“Thank you.” I almost ran up the stairs.

Ginny wasn’t in her room when I got there, but I could hear

sounds coming from the bathroom. I glanced around. Her bed was

neatly made. Her reading glasses and a book sat on the table near her chaise, where I had a feeling she spent a good deal of her time.

I walked to her dresser and scanned the top. The usual things

were scattered across the surface. A silver brush-and-mirror set, face powder, a bottle of perfume, an ornate jewelry box. I lifted the top and looked inside. It wasn’t my intention to steal anything from her. I just wanted to see if there was anything of interest.

Pictures, letters. I glanced at the bathroom door.

The inside of the box was lined in velvet. A tangle of jewelry

filled the top compartment. Most of it looked like costume jewelry.

I lifted the top shelf and looked underneath. More necklaces and

bracelets. Underneath the shelves were little pull-out drawers. Five in al . I pulled them out one by one. I pushed my fingers around in the drawers and surveyed the contents. That’s when I saw the ring of keys.

It was a large ring with at least fifteen keys attached. Each

key was labeled with a piece of first-aid tape. One said FD. Front door? GQ—guest quarters, maybe? These had to be duplicate keys

to Cora’s house. That’s how Ginny got in and wandered around. I

went through them one by one. Each was labeled with a different

room. One simply said OFFICE. Had she been there the night I’d

hidden in the closet?

I put the keys in my pocket and closed her jewelry box. I sat in

the chair near the window and waited.

Dr. Cooper wanted me to know that he had access to the infor-

mation that passed between Ginny and me. That was the real pur-

pose of his little speech down there. I doubted that Ginny had been THE BOOK
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upset for days; I had only confirmed information that she already knew. But it was clever of him to present it to me that way; now I was afraid to say anything. Maybe I should’ve just skipped this step and gone right to the library instead.

“Mackenzie?” She came out of the bathroom.

“Ginny, how are you?” Her hair was wet, and she was dressed

in her robe and slippers. Her robe wasn’t as nice or expensive as her brother’s. In fact, it looked a little ratty. At least she recognized me.

She looked at the door. “Harrison let you in?”

I nodded, and it seemed to surprise her. She was less confused

than she’d been since I met her. Damn. Now would be the best

time to talk to her, but I was wary. Something about this whole

setup bothered me. She came over and sat down on her chaise.

“What is it that you wanted?”

“To say hello and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh.”

“Ginny, did you tell your brother everything we talked about

when I was here before?”

“No. Just that I knew about Nick. I was angry that they kept it

from me. They had no right.”

She’d been so confused when I was here before, I couldn’t be

sure of what she’d told him. The image flashed briefly before me of Ginny sitting in her chair with a bright light shining directly in her eyes, Dr. Cooper standing behind the light, saying, “Tell me again, Virginia, what did you say to the girl?” I took a deep breath and glanced at the door. I hadn’t heard any sounds from outside. He

must still be downstairs. I’d have to take my chances; I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

“Ginny, did a little boy disappear at Cora’s years ago?” I said it quickly and softly.

She sucked in her breath and looked at me. “Is that what you

heard?”

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ELLEN J. GREEN

“I’m asking.”

She didn’t say anything for a little bit; a startled and confused look came over her eyes. God, please not now. Stay clear and

focused. “You know this already,” she said. “Not a little boy. Nick did, when he was sixteen. But he didn’t come back. Why are you

asking this again?”

“A woman at the historical society said a boy disappeared. A

small child.”

She glanced backward toward the door. “It was Nick. That’s all

there is to it. And every day that you’re here, you’re a reminder of that.” She grabbed my hand, surprising me. Those old fingers were stronger than they looked. “Maybe you need to go back to wherever you came from.”

I twisted my arm out of her grasp. “Maybe the woman wasn’t

referring to Nick. Maybe that happened later. Maybe she was referring to another child. James?”

Ginny didn’t respond; her face was turned toward the window;

her expression was blank.

“Good night, Ginny. I’ll come by to see you before I leave.”

As her bedroom door clicked shut behind me, I was aware of

two things. One, Ginny was lying. And two, the keys I’d stowed in my pocket were making a slight jangly sound when I walked.

Cora waited for Harry at their meeting place, just like he’d asked her to, but he was late. She checked her watch. Ginny should have been asleep long ago.

Their secret meeting place was real y nothing more now than

a small cleared spot under some trees. Once, it had been so much

more.

In the beginning, they’d chosen the spot because some trees

had fallen, leaving two nice trunks to sit on. The surrounding

brush made them invisible to anyone walking past. One summer,

when Harry wasn’t more than ten, he’d pounded small tree trunks

into the ground and covered the top with branches to make a

crude little hut. He, Ginny, and Cora met there practical y every day. They all scrounged things from their homes to try and make it cozy. Ginny and Harry brought old cushions to sit on and two coffee cans filled with supplies like cigarette lighters and small tools, and another for gumbal s, candy, or marshmallows. Harry would

ration them out as he saw fit.

Cora didn’t have much in the way of luxuries to add, but she

found an old kerosene lantern in the carriage house. Harry got

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ELLEN J. GREEN

some kerosene at the gas station, and they would sit in that spot for hours after it got dark. Cora smiled at the memory. The three of them huddled together around that old lantern, telling stories and laughing. It was the happiest time of her life.

The tree trunks had long since rotted. Their makeshift hut had

fallen apart and been rebuilt so many times, they’d lost count. The year Harry left for college, Cora went there and tried to rebuild it on her own. Ginny had gone away a few years before to West

Chester College to become a teacher, so Cora was all alone. In the end it just wasn’t the same. Cora had everything—the coffee cans, the lantern, even some cushions. She lay there in the little hut that night by herself. She’d never in her life had a lonelier, longer night.

Her lifelines to the world were gone.

Now she turned at the sound of crackling leaves behind her.

Harry. His eyes were shining.

“You’re late. I was worried Ginny was acting up again.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Virginia seems to be behaving her-

self quite wel . Your guest, on the other hand . . . She was over again.”

Cora stared straight ahead. “What did she say?”

Harry leaned against a tree. “I’m not sure. I could only hear