Touched Read online

  “Stay here with me. At least until Will comes home. Maybe longer if that’s what it takes.”

  “What about school?”

  Sadie snorted. “As if that ever mattered a whit to you. Duncan doesn’t go half the time. What she knows she learned from you. The child can read and write and do her numbers. You think that pinheaded teacher can tell Duncan more about the world than you? I wouldn’t doubt Cornelia still believes the earth is flat.”

  I got up and refilled all of our cups to hide my smile. The situation wasn’t amusing. Not in the least. But Aunt Sadie’s assessment of Cornelia Tucker was perfect. Heavy bosomed and heavy hipped, Cornelia Tucker directed the Methodist choir and the public school in Jexville. She taught, wrote policy, chose curriculum, and said the morning prayer. To make sure no one challenged her right to do all of the above, she even provided the school building.

  “Duncan should have a right to go to school.” JoHanna was angry. “Will pays taxes. Duncan should be able to attend without being ridiculed and punished.”

  “If you want Duncan in the school, then you should let your hair grow out, buy some foundation garments and bake some cookies.” Aunt Sadie slammed her coffee cup into the saucer, cracking both. “Dog in the manger. That’s how you’re behaving, JoHanna. Talk about rights. Talk about wanting Duncan to go to school. Well, powder my ass with talcum, ‘cause all this pretending is chappin’ me raw.”

  JoHanna stopped, coffee cup in midair. I froze, just getting ready to take my seat. Sadie’s coffee spilled through the broken dishes and moved across the table in a wet brown march. I watched it, fascinated, but I was too afraid to make a move for the dishcloth.

  “Well.” JoHanna spoke the one word as she broke her locked gaze with Sadie and looked at me. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She started laughing. “I’d like to powder your ass, you old warhorse.” She laughed again until she had to lean back in her chair.

  Sadie started laughing, too. It was a high-pitched laugh, in complete contrast to her normal brisk tone. More like a rusty hinge that had been broken loose. Then I got started laughing and didn’t have time to listen to Sadie or JoHanna. It was as if a dam had broken and our laughter rushed over us, freeing up the pain and fear that had nearly walled us up. Each time we looked at each other we laughed afresh, until I was half lying on the table too weak to sit up and JoHanna had gotten up to get a cloth to blot the spilled coffee.

  Sadie stood and put the broken dishes in the garbage. “So it’s settled,” she said, still chuckling. “You and Duncan will stay with me.”

  I didn’t want that. I wanted JoHanna to come back to Jexville with me. To be there. But it was better for her and Duncan to stay. Floyd and I would go back, each to our private lives.

  “It’s settled,” JoHanna said. She stood up. “But you don’t have to go back right away, Mattie. Stay another day or two.”

  Sadie caught the sudden tension between us. “Excuse me, I’m going to check and see if the wash is dry.” She was out the back door with another healthy slam.

  I met JoHanna’s gaze. “Elikah.” The word was like an illness. Something I couldn’t cure and couldn’t escape.

  “I’ll send him a note by Floyd.”

  I wanted to believe that JoHanna could write something magic that would make it okay for me to stay longer. But I was afraid. Elikah wanted things to be just so in his home. His breakfast with the eggs fried so that the whites were done but the yellows runny, his bacon crisp but not dry, his toast the color of hay baking in the field. There were so many things to be done his way, and if I was gone, no one was doing them.

  “Mattie, if you go home and have relations with him, the bleeding could start again. It might not stop. You could die.”

  JoHanna spoke matter-of-factly, but my face flushed with blood. “I won’t do that.” I swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in my throat.

  “I get the impression that Elikah doesn’t listen to you when you say no. If that’s the case, it could cost you your life.”

  I looked down at the floor and heard Sadie scuffling at the back door. No doubt her arms were filled with clean sheets and our laundry that she had thoughtfully washed out. She had a kind streak even though she hid it well. “I need to go home.” I sounded stubborn.

  “Do you want to go home?”

  She was pressing me hard, and I looked up at her. Her blue eyes were not unkind, but they were unyielding. “No.”

  “Good. Then you’re staying for another day or two.” She went to a drawer and pulled out a tablet and a pen. “I’ll write him a note and Floyd can take it to him, all sealed up. I promise, it will do the trick.”

  “He’s going to be furious.”

  JoHanna sat down at the table and put the pen to the page. “He might be, but he won’t dare touch you,” she said as she began to write. “He won’t dare.”

  She composed the note in a few moments, without hesitation or blotch. Then she read it to me. “Dear Elikah, I’ve brought Mattie to my Aunt Sadie for help. She has a high fever and has been talking out of her head. She is afraid someone is going to hurt her, and then she calls out for you. It would do her a world of good if you came up to see her, but I know you have a business to run. Therefore I will take care of her until she gets better. She is really raving, not knowing what she is saying and talking about all sorts of outlandish things. Wherever could she have learned such things? Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her. JoHanna McVay.”

  I looked up to see her expectant gaze. I wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. “He’s going to think I’m saying that he’s been hurting me.”

  “Yes, but the best part is, I’m writing as if I don’t believe it. So he’ll just hope you come to your senses before I believe what you’re saying. And he won’t want you back in Jexville for fear Doc Westfall will have to be called and will hear your wild ranting and raving.”

  Playing on Elikah’s fear was both exhilarating and frightening. He was a man who could shave off half his toe just to make a point.

  “How will Floyd get home?” I hadn’t agreed to the plan, yet.

  “Nell will be up here this evening, or one of the folks around here will go into Jexville for supplies.” She gave me a grin. “And to spread the latest gossip.”

  “Does Floyd want to go back?” I just realized that his story had ended about the time JoHanna and Sadie started yelling at each other.

  “He does.” JoHanna shook her head slowly. “Floyd loves his job, Mattie. Making boots is something he does better than anyone else. It gives him pride. He needs to go back.”

  “They laugh at him.”

  “Yes, but they hire him to make their fancy boots.” She rose from the table. “For Floyd, that’s enough.” She went to the doorway and looked in at Floyd, who sat silently holding Duncan’s hand. When she turned back, her eyes had filled with tears.

  “What am I going to do?” she asked. “What if we’re back at the beginning, where she can’t speak or walk?”

  “Don’t be silly, JoHanna.” I lifted one shoulder in a gesture I didn’t know I knew. “The shock of what happened has made her want to sleep. When she wakes up, she’ll be just like she was. And each day she’ll continue to get better.” I went to her and gave her a hug, knowing for the first time in my life what it meant to lie to another for the haven of a moment. I gave her a chit of what she so gallantly gave all around her. Hugging her tight, I knew she needed me to stay, and that gave me strength to stand against Elikah.

  Nineteen

  I HEARD my name called as if from a distance, then there was the rapid slither of something crawling down my cheek. Bursting up out of sleep, I forced myself awake even as I fought against whatever crept across my face. I was met by Duncan’s smile, framed by her fingers which dangled, spider-like, over my nose.

  “Get up, sleepyhead,” she said. “Sadie has breakfast cooked and she says to tell you to come in your gown.”

  Holding Duncan in his arms, Floyd was grinning, not at
all discomfited by the fact that I was a grown woman in my bed. I saw clearly that he viewed me as nothing more than Duncan and JoHanna’s friend. Instead of pulling up the sheet, I reached out and grabbed Duncan’s hand. “So, you’re awake and speaking to us.” I tugged her as if I intended to pull her from Floyd’s arms, and she shrieked with delight.

  “She woke up hungry.” Floyd jiggled her in his arms. “And me, too. Come on, Mattie. Aunt Sadie made biscuits and ham gravy.”

  I threw back the sheet and padded into the kitchen on bare feet, my hair a nimbus around my head. As I slipped into my place at the table, JoHanna laughed at me.

  “Why it’s a fairy child, come to dine with us, Duncan.”

  The relief and joy were palpable in her voice. She pulsed with happiness, sending waves of it around the room. Looking at the table, I saw that Sadie had responded to Duncan’s recovery in typical Southern fashion. A platter of ham was centered in the table. Around it were biscuits high as cakes, a bowl of eggs scrambled with rat cheese, a jar of Sadie’s wonderful Mayhaw jelly, butter, and she put a steaming bowl of yellow grits on the table as I watched. I actually had to swallow my mouth was watering so hard.

  “Dig in,” she said in her brusque way.

  Floyd needed no second invitation, nor Duncan. They fell upon the food with great competition while JoHanna and I shared a glance.

  The night before we had finally gone to our separate beds with Duncan still in a deep sleep. Her color had returned, and her legs twitched, like a dog in a dream chasing a rabbit, and it was that simple reaction that gave JoHanna the strength to hang on and wait. Floyd had moved her from the sofa to JoHanna’s bed, where we had all stood around for half an hour, watching. Pecos had taken up his position in the open window, flapping his wings whenever anyone moved too suddenly. Aunt Sadie ignored him, unwilling to argue about the bird in the house when Duncan, in between twitching a little, was lying as still as a corpse. Worried but unable to determine an action that would help, none of us had bothered with supper.

  Wherever Duncan had gone, she had come back to us during the night. Sleep had healed her, or at least given her the strength to fight. The skin beneath her eyes held a faintly bruised sheen, and her smile was a bit forced, but her appetite was a delight to behold. She and Floyd were forking slabs of ham and reaching across each other for the biscuits and butter.

  Once the two predators had filled their plates, JoHanna, Sadie, and I began to serve ourselves. Words were not necessary. The clatter of knives and forks said it all. The giggles that slipped between Floyd and Duncan were plenty of conversation.

  I ate until I could not swallow another bite. I would have been ashamed of myself for my gluttony, but it was a sin shared by all at the table. JoHanna actually groaned as she leaned back and rubbed her stomach. “I’ll pay for this meal,” she said, laughing.

  “What we need is a good swim. To use up the food.” Duncan’s eyes were determined. “You said we could go to the river today, Mama. And Floyd has to leave soon. And Mattie will have to go in a day or two. We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

  I couldn’t believe that Duncan wanted to go back to the river not twenty-four hours after she’d watched a man drown. The Pascagoula was a beautiful sight, I wouldn’t deny that. But she was a force to be reckoned with. One I didn’t feel I could match in any way. And certainly Duncan could not, without even the use of her legs. If the current caught her, she’d be a goner.

  Hesitation crossed JoHanna’s face. “It might be better for us to stay close to home, Duncan.”

  I knew her love of the river, and her tone of voice surprised me. Maybe it was the talk she was worried about, not the river. Out of sight, out of mind might be what she was thinking.

  “You think because Mr. Lassiter died that I’ll be afraid of the river.” She put her knife and fork across the top of her plate. “It’s not like the river is bad. I know that.”

  Silence fell over the table, an awkward lull that no one but JoHanna could fill. “We’ll go to the river, but I can’t promise a swim.” She placed her hands on the table and stood. “It all depends on the current and how clear the water is. Yesterday it was too muddy. We’ll see.”

  “It’ll be clear,” Duncan predicted with such certainty that once again all noise in the room ceased.

  “If we can’t swim, we can fish,” Floyd said, amenable to either prospect. Whatever JoHanna ruled was law with him.

  I helped with the dishes and then excused myself. The events of the day before had started a small amount of bleeding, something I hadn’t told JoHanna. She didn’t need additional worries on top of Duncan, and I had gotten Sadie to brew me a cup of her herb tea before I went to bed. But the journey to the river concerned me. Whether Duncan was afraid or not, I was. The yellow waters of the river looked thick as dirt. Able to weight a body down and hold them beneath the surface.

  While I dawdled with my toilet, Aunt Sadie packed up a picnic lunch and Floyd dug worms for his fishing. JoHanna bathed and dressed Duncan, and before the sun was too terribly hot, we were on the way.

  I insisted on walking, and Duncan convinced Floyd to ride her piggyback. Without the wagon, Pecos would have to make his own rooster way along the sand. He entertained us by running ahead, pecking maniacally around the ground as if he might find diamonds and emeralds, and then running ahead again. JoHanna carried the picnic basket, and I held Duncan’s hat for her.

  “I’m afraid to let her swim,” JoHanna said as we dropped a little behind Duncan and Floyd. “For the first time in my life I’m afraid of the river.”

  “Yesterday was enough to make anyone afraid.”

  JoHanna shook her head. “It wasn’t Red’s drowning. It’s Duncan’s dreams.” In the shade of her hat her eyebrows were still drawn together in a frown. “It’s the dream where the man under the water keeps calling her.” She shifted the basket to her other hand.

  “You think there’s going to be another drowning?”

  JoHanna’s teeth snagged her bottom lip. I was close enough to see the tissue pale beneath the pressure of her bite. “I think it may be Duncan,” she whispered.

  Her words rocked me as if she’d punched me as hard as she could. “But it’s a man, she said.” My whisper was so urgent that Floyd hesitated and Duncan’s head twisted to look back at us.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her brown gaze riveted to JoHanna. When JoHanna didn’t answer instantly, Duncan wiggled around until Floyd shifted her from his back into his arms so that she could see over his shoulder more easily. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

  JoHanna’s teeth released her lip and she smiled, the pale place slowly filling with red color. “Mattie said she didn’t want to get in the water today. And I was telling her that we’d sit out with her.”

  I looked over at Pecos, aware that it was the first lie I’d ever heard JoHanna tell Duncan. It was also one I didn’t want to dispute. I was afraid. So it was sort of the truth. The rooster felt my gaze upon him. He turned, darting his head in that bullying way, and hissed at me.

  Duncan’s laughter made me look at her. She was undisturbed by JoHanna’s decision, generous enough to allow me my fear and not make a scene about it. “Pecos is after you, Mattie.”

  “Pecos is always keeping me in line,” I said, smiling at last.

  “We can picnic and Floyd will tell us a story.” Duncan struggled up over his broad shoulder and then leaned down his back and pinched his behind. He jumped forward and then began to spin in the road, holding her by her legs and swirling her around in a long, slow arc that made her scream with delight.

  We were completely alone on the road, free of all the restraints I felt in Jexville. I unbuttoned the top of my dress and let the morning air cool my neck and chest. It occurred to me then that JoHanna had not brought suits. She’d never intended to allow Duncan to swim.

  We walked along, Floyd teasing Duncan in his gentle way. JoHanna said no more about her fears for Duncan’s safety, but I could see the worr
y still in her eyes. It seemed to give the blue of her eyes a slightly purple cast, a little bruised.

  Instead of going to the supports where we’d gone the day before, Duncan directed us farther north, where the narrow road became more and more crowded with elderberries and huckleberry shrubs. Dogwoods clustered in the woods, their leaves beginning to turn a bright green that signaled their deaths. Fall would be upon us in a few weeks, my favorite of all the seasons.

  Most of the wild trees and shrubs were familiar to me, as was the tangle of scuppernong vines that also showed the first hint of fall. Not ten feet from the road, the land became a jungle of smaller trees and shrubs woven and knotted with the thick vines.

  Following Duncan’s directions, Floyd led us to an opening in the wall of vegetation. It was almost a small tunnel, so low that we had to stoop over to make it through the dense green, especially Floyd. I was so busy watching my feet that when I burst out into the sunshine on the other side, I was dazzled for a moment by the brightness of the sun and the white sand.

  I had dreamed of azure water and sugary sand beaches. I had never expected to find half of that dream in Fitler, Mississippi. There was no turquoise water or pounding surf, but the sand was as pure as mountains of sugar or ice. It extended in a long line, disappearing around the curve of the river, a sharp contrast to the yellow-brown water.

  “It’s beautiful.” I reached and picked up a handful of it, letting the pure whiteness of it drift between my fingers.

  “Take off my shoes,” Duncan cried, jouncing about in Floyd’s arms. He slipped her shoes from her feet, dropping them into the sand, then pulled off her socks. With great care he stood her on her feet and held her.

  “It feels wonderful.” She curled her toes in the sand, digging out a little hollow.

  “Wonderful.” JoHanna agreed, but she was watching Duncan’s feet. Duncan had gained more use and control, even from the day before.

  “Go ahead, Mattie. Take off your shoes. You, too, Mama,” Duncan ordered. “Then we’re going to walk to the edge of the water.” She looked up. “All of us.”