Way Down Deep (15 page)

I
NEED TO USE THE PHONE
, L
UCY
.”

It was a sticky day in August, and Miss Arbutus had come out of her room after taking a nap. She had not slept well the night before.

Surprised, Lucy Elkins dropped the black phone into its cradle, and Miss Arbutus picked it up.

“Do you know the sheriff's number, Lucy?”

“Yes, it's Olive-2002,” Lucy said, and she dialed the number for Miss Arbutus.

“Sheriff,” Miss Arbutus said after a moment, “this is Arbutus Ward. I have something very important to tell Detective Holland. Can you get him over here?”

Pause.

“That's right, it's about the night Ruby Jo came to us. Call me when he arrives, and I will come to your office.”

Another pause.

“So you will both come over here, then? Fine. Let me know when. I'll meet you in the common room.”

Later on in the afternoon, Lucy Elkins answered when the sheriff called back.

“Tell Miss Arbutus that Detective Holland is on his way, and we will come to The Roost together after supper.”

Of course, several people just happened to pick up the phone and overhear both these conversations, and before long every person in Way Down knew that Miss Arbutus had used the telephone to talk to the sheriff. Furthermore, she had told him that she had something important to say about Ruby, and she would say it to the sheriff and the detective in the common room of The Roost after supper.

As Miss Arbutus and Lucy Elkins finished clearing the supper dishes, the townspeople began to arrive. They came in twos and threes. They did not say why they were there, and nobody asked. Mr. Gentry and Miss Worly welcomed them. Miss Arbutus had disappeared into her room to prepare herself mentally.

The people greeted one another and chatted in low tones as if they were in church. They talked about the weather and the price of sugar, about recipes and the health of their families, anything but Ruby and what Miss Arbutus might have to say to the detective.

As Sheriff Reynolds and Detective Holland approached The Roost, the detective turned to the sheriff and said, “What's all this? Why are these people here?”

“Oh, they're just curious,” the sheriff said. “They want to hear what Miss Arbutus has to say.”

“But Miss Arbutus may feel that her privacy is being invaded.”

“Not at all,” the sheriff responded. “If Miss Arbutus had wanted to keep this private, she would not have used the telephone.”

Inside the common room, the two men found that comfortable chairs had been reserved for them. They sat down and faced the most comfortable chair of all, which was also vacant, obviously being reserved for Miss Arbutus.

No sooner were the lawmen settled than Miss Arbutus came out of her room and walked down the short hallway and into the common room. All was quiet as she entered, elegantly dressed in an ashes-of-roses silk dress. Her hair was tastefully done in a high French twist, and small patches of color could be detected on her cheekbones and on her lips.

A murmur of approval rose from the group. She smiled a bit nervously at the people and went directly to her chair.

The Reeders were seated on cushions on the hearth, and at sight of Miss Arbutus, little Rita tried to pull away from her father, but he would not let her go. The people made brief friendly comments such as “Good evening, Miss Arbutus,” “How nice you look tonight, Miss Arbutus,” “What a lovely dress!”

There were also remarks about the appearance of The Roost: how comfortable it was, how pleasant, how nicely the ceiling fans cooled the room, even with all the people in it.

Those who could not squeeze into the common room stayed on the porch. Some of them crowded around the open windows, hoping to hear better. When Miss Arbutus spoke to the detective, all other voices fell silent.

“Thank you for coming this long distance, Detective Holland. As I told the sheriff, I do have something important to tell you, and I don't want to waste your time, so I will begin.”

She cleared her throat and looked at her hands, apparently searching for just the right words. In the lull, the soft hum of the fans could be heard.

“I will begin in March of 1944,” Miss Arbutus said at last. “As many of you may remember, my dear father, Lucas Ward, passed away that month. He was the last member of my family, and I had spent the previous ten years of my life taking care of him. We were very close, and I was more grief-stricken than I can say. I had no family, no husband or children who needed me. I was the last Ward left in Way Down, and I could hardly bear the emptiness. So I fell into a deep depression.

“In fact, I found it difficult to get out of bed in the mornings. I felt I no longer had a purpose in life. That was the state I found myself in as summer approached. I knew that I could not go on in this way. I wanted to die.”

Sympathetic sounds could be heard in the room.

“From the time I was very young, I have had vivid dreams, and in this time of trouble, they were even more so. For three nights in a row I heard a young child crying
for its mother. It was a very troubling, touching cry, and in my dreams, I searched and searched, but to no avail.

“Finally, on the fourth night, as I drifted into dreams, I slipped way down deep inside myself for answers. And there I found the other me. Let me explain: I have learned that inside each of us are two beings. One is the conscious self, the one we present to the world. And the other is the wiser self, the one who slumbers in the heart with the wisdom of the ages.

“That night the wise one told me that a treasure lay waiting for me. And she would show me where it was. I mistakenly supposed that she was going to take me to the legendary treasure of Way Down, and I was thrilled. But suddenly I found myself in a strange place away from here.

“I was on the top of a mountain right under the stars. Before me was a weather-beaten house with a large porch, and on the porch were seven children sleeping in the moonlight. But I had eyes only for the smallest one. I knew I had found my treasure.

“She lay on one side with her thumb in her mouth. She had cried herself to sleep, and she took short, quick breaths—you know what I mean? She had the snubs. That's what I've heard mothers call it.”

Miss Arbutus looked toward Mr. Doctor. “I think it's something like hyperventilation, isn't it, Mr. Doctor?”

Mr. Doctor nodded. “Yes, it happens when children cry so long and hard, they can't get a good breath.”

Miss Arbutus continued. “Well, that's what it was. Tears still glistened on the toddler's cheek. The fine bright hair stuck to her neck and forehead in tiny curls, for it was a warm night.

“ ‘Your treasure,' the wise one said to me. ‘Her mother and father have died. She is bullied and teased by the other children here. And she's just an aggravation to the adults. Take her home, for she will be stifled here and unloved, her gentle spirit broken.'

“I asked no questions. I bunched up my white nightgown and got down on my hands and knees beside the child. I touched her cheek and spoke softly to her. ‘Come with me.'

“When she woke up and saw me, a great, wonderful smile lit up her face. She said, ‘Mommie!' and hugged my neck.

“I said to her, ‘Let's ride horsie!' And I scrunched down right beside her so that she could crawl onto my back.

“When she climbed up she was giggling. ‘Wide hossie! Hossie!' she said.

“On all fours I leapt around in the yard for a few minutes to please her. Then I rose up with the little thing clinging to my neck. I clutched her chubby legs around my waist, and set off for home.”

A
T THAT VERY MOMENT ON
Y
ONDER
M
OUNTAIN
, G
OLDIE
Combs and Ruby stood facing each other in the kitchen.

“You sneaked up there and took that picture without permission!” Goldie Combs yelled.

“They are my parents,” Ruby said. “I felt the picture was mine.”

“You stole it,” her grandma said.

Ruby had lost so much weight and sleep that she did not look like the same girl who had once thrived at The Roost. She looked more like a waif who had no one to care for her.

While Ruby had been out picking flowers after supper, Grandma had gone into her room. She had seen the picture tacked on the wall and confronted Ruby when she came back in.

In the previous days Grandma had become more and more difficult. Nothing, not even Ruby's stories of Way Down, could keep her in a good mood.

Ruby still clutched the flowers in her hand. “Please, Grandma, I would like to have the picture back.”

Though she remained polite, she was beginning to tremble. She had never felt such a terrible emotion as this. It was almost as if . . . as if she would like to scream at her grandma . . . or worse yet, hit her!

“You had it stored away in an attic where you never looked at it.” Ruby tried to reason with the woman.

“If there's one thing I hate, it's a thief!” Grandma said nastily.

Ruby carefully placed the flowers in the sink, then went to her room and sat down on the bed. She closed her eyes and began to count her breaths. It was a trick she had learned from Miss Arbutus. Presently she felt all her anger drain away, and peace settled over her.

She walked back into the kitchen and found Grandma just as she had left her. Her eyes narrowed as Ruby approached.

“Grandma, it's time for me to go home.”

“You
are
home!” Grandma snapped.

Ruby reached out and placed a hand on Goldie Combs's arm. “No, Grandma, this is not my true home.”

But Grandma shrugged her away. “I am your legal guardian. You can't leave me.”

“I have to. I'm suffocating here.”

Then Ruby walked into her room again, pulled her suitcase from under the bed, and began to pack her things.

Goldie Combs walked to her doorway. “You mean
now
?” she shrieked at Ruby. “You are leaving right
now
?”

“Yes, I'm going to walk down to Uncle Chris's house and ask him to drive me to Way Down. If he won't do it, then I'll call Miss Arbutus, and she will send somebody for me.”

“But it's nearly dark. It'll be pitch-black before you get to Chris's house!”

“I'm not afraid.”

“You can't do this to me again, Jolene!”

“I'm not Jolene, Grandma. I'm Ruby Jo, and I have to go. The judge said I should come back to see him after my visit, and now my visit is over.”

“We'll just see about that!”

“I'm sorry for you,” Ruby went on in the same calm voice. “I want to help you, but I can't stay here without . . .” Ruby searched for the right words. “I don't know exactly know how to explain it, Grandma, but I feel like . . . if I stayed here, something in me would . . . shrivel up and die.”

Goldie Combs studied the face of the girl for a long time before she said, “You sound just like your mama.”

With that, it seemed Grandma had run out of steam. She suddenly looked older, sicker, as she walked slowly back to her bedroom.

A few minutes later, from the front door, Ruby called, “Goodbye, Grandma. I have to hurry now.”

“Just wait until morning,” Grandma said, but Ruby did not hear her.

She closed the door behind her and hurried along the path, eager to be at the bottom of the mountain before total
darkness fell upon her. Already the woods seemed murky, as in her dreams.

Could she really do this? Could she find her way in the dark? Might she wander off the path and into those scary trees? She looked back at the house once, then clutched the suitcase tightly, and plunged into the woods.

T
HERE WAS SUCH A HUSH IN THE COMMON ROOM
, M
ISS
Arbutus had to glance around at the faces to make sure they were not asleep. Quite the contrary, the people were hanging on to every word she uttered. Eyes were wide and mouths were gaping.

Rita Reeder had managed to get away from Robber Bob and moved toward Miss Arbutus. She smiled at the child and lifted her gently onto her lap.

“I skimmed over the earth like the wind.” Miss Arbutus continued her story. “My feet barely touched the ground. I often travel this way in dreams. I did not know where I was, but I followed my heart down the mountain.

“I soon discovered my hair was blowing into the little girl's face. So I stopped in the woods, and by the light of the moon I found a fine young vine, with which I secured my hair. Then I took the child on my back again, but before I could move on, I saw something—a panther!”

A gasp went around the room.

“He was coming toward us through the woods, his
sleek black body moving as a shark moves through water. The child saw him, too. I could feel her fast puffs of breath against my neck.

“But I assured her this elegant cat would not hurt us. He felt a kinship to me, for he was the last of his kind, and an aching loneliness hung about him like a tangible thing.

“He did run with us, however, but only because he was in awe of me for the speed with which I could travel. He kept up with me for some distance. I could see his green eyes glowing at my heels.

“When I finally leapt ahead and outran him, he let forth that human scream which was heard and feared by the people on the mountain that night. I imagined them cowering in their beds as they watched their moonlit windows.”

At this point Rita was playing with Miss Arbutus's hair, gently removing the pins until it fell thick and dark against the rose silk of her dress. A glow of soft lamplight lay about the woman in the chair. With wonder in their eyes, the townspeople looked at her and thought her beautiful.

“Where was she,” the men asked themselves, “when I was looking for a wife? Why did I not see her?”

Others were thinking, “Was it her silence that made us think of her as dull?”