The Waking Bell

by Jackie Weger

  “Miss Reeves, are you well?”

  I felt their unwanted stares. I wanted the bells to stop; I wanted them to stop staring at me. I pulled up the dignity that Ginny Rose taught me. “I’m fine,” I managed.

  “I don’t think so. She’s gone white. She’s going to faint.”

  The voice sounded so far away. Then, a warm hand took mine.

  “Why don’t I drive her home?”

  “I should do that.”

  “Please, allow me. These men have been waiting a long time for salvation, Brother Frazier. It is no trouble.”

  Rising, I felt a hand around my waist, supporting me, I’m sure, for my legs felt like weighted anchors. I grasped Matt’s hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “I’m not,” Matt said in a low voice. “Not at all.”

  Once outside, Matt helped me into his truck. I felt like I could breathe again.

  Frazier stood at the door before it closed. He looked worried. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you?”

  I shook my head. “It’s my fault. You were right. I shouldn’t have come…I just wanted to help you, but you are needed here. I’ll be fine.” I didn’t add that I knew I had embarrassed him.

  “I’ll be by afterward to check on you.” He gave me a nod and shut the door.

  The truck began to back up. I closed my eyes and sank back into the seat. Matt pulled over after turning out of the camp and leaned over me to roll down the window.

  Proceeding back on our course, the wind felt good against my face. The bells began to fade.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, I felt the truck make a left turn. I opened my eyes. This wasn’t the way home. I looked over at Matt.

  “I thought you might feel better if we went for a ride. Have I made a mistake?”

  There was a mischievous note in his voice. I had to smile.

  “No,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I have discovered that you don’t like attention on yourself,” he said. “Why did you come? Surely you would have known the camp was filled with numerous men.”

  His directness took me by surprise.

  I shook my head. “I thought I …I wanted to help…to support Frazier.”

  He gave me a look like he didn’t believe me. I probably wouldn’t have believed me either, but neither could I explain the bells to him.

  “No matter.” He slowed the truck to a more leisurely speed. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty…twenty-one in the fall.”

  He laughed. “You look younger.”

  “How much younger could I look?” I asked, offended. “I remember meeting you for the first time when I started working for Ginny Rose. That was six years ago.”

  I had a sudden revelation that he hadn’t remembered me then. The meeting had made more of an impression on me than him.

  “I assure you I meant it as a compliment. You have a fresh, natural look that’s timeless,” he said with a lighthearted air that made me immediately forgive him.

  I laughed.

  His smile warmed. His happy mood was contagious.

  The sky was rippled with fluffy white clouds and a bright sun. The wind felt good flowing through my hair, which had come out of its bun and whipped loose around my face.

  I was lost in the moment. My tortured silence…the bells… had been forgotten.

  He took another left. Shortly, we drove up a winding driveway. He stopped the truck, and we got out. We stood in front of a log cabin.

  It was well-kept. Between the trees was an amazing view of a lake with a dock that sat behind the house. A wrap-around porch continued to the back.

  “Do you know this place?” I asked in a nervous voice.

  “We call it Tanner’s Lodge. My grandfather built it. It’s mine now.” He extended his hand to me. “Come, let me show it to you.”

  Matt seemed to take pleasure in my excitement. The cabin was charming. Each room felt inviting and homey. We stopped on the back deck. I stood and grabbed the railing. The sight was excruciatingly lovely.

  The wind stirred the bushes at the water’s edge. It looked so peaceful.

  We stood for a long time without a word.

  “I love this place,” he finally said. “I come up every weekend now.”

  “You didn’t before?”

  I regretted my question. His carefree mood faded as a shadow clouded his face. I chastised myself for being so foolish. I had gotten the distinct impression he wanted to escape, at least for the day, from any reference of his dead wife.

  He simply said, “No.”

  I watched him stare out over the lake. I wondered if he was thinking of her.

  Instead of mentioning Moria, he began talking of his youth and his cousins that hung out here. He pointed down the path that led to the water and spoke of how they used to swing out on a rope tied to a large oak and let go over the water. He told me how his grandfather took him fishing in his boat, nothing more than a rowboat, but it was grand to him. His grandfather taught him how to hunt and shoot. The love he held for the man was evident in his voice.

  The sky cleared of any clouds, giving way to a brilliant sun. The water shimmered in the light.

  “The day before my last mission was much like today. England is much cooler than Tennessee, but the days are longer in the summer and much shorter in the winter. The countryside is littered with beautiful gardens of flowers and country lanes.” His voice was detached and dry. “Not that I saw much after joining the Canadian Air Force. I was posted at Marske-by-the-Sea, Redcar Yorkshire, and trained as a gunner.”

  Otis told me once that whatever else Matt Pritchard was, he wasn’t a coward. He heard that Matt served as a tail gunner, the coldest, loneliest place in the sky. His mission was to protect the plane from enemy aircraft, the dreaded Luftwaffe. He would have been situated away from his other crew members without any heat for as long as ten hours.

  He’s lucky he came back with only a limp. Otis’s words echoed in my head as Matt talked. I shivered at the thought he could have been killed. There again, I remembered he had joined up on his honeymoon. He had left Moria alone in a foreign country. It was something I couldn’t wrap my head around.

  “Why did you join up?” I blurted out.

  Once more, I regretted my question. It broke him from his trance. He glanced over at me with eyes that seemed to peer into my soul.

  “I felt the call to protect those not German and perhaps stop Hitler before American lives were lost. Governor Cooper stated more than once that war was inevitable with Hitler after meeting him at the ’36 Olympics. But you’re right if you suspect that my motives weren’t all pure.”

  Feeling uneasy, I tried to smooth over my question. “I shouldn’t have pried. It’s none of my business.”

  He was silent for a long moment. Then he gave a little shrug. “I never wanted to honeymoon in Europe, but Moria insisted, and I relented…to make her happy. I don’t know if anything I ever did made her happy.”

  I felt like someone peeping into a window and seeing something I shouldn’t. I thought of saying something, anything to change the subject. Yet I felt his need to expunge the feelings that troubled him. I said nothing.

  “I have no one to blame for being there except myself, but when we arrived in London, rumors swirled of the rapidly approaching conflict. When the conflict escalated quicker than we thought, Moria suggested I join up with the Canadians like another one of our fellow American tourists we had met, Jack Kellerman. She said she would return with his wife and brother…that was until Dodie showed up. Then Moria went home with Dodie onboard the Queen Mary on the boat’s last trip across the Atlantic to New York.”

  “Dodie just showed up? She told Ginny Rose that you telegraphed her and asked her to come escort Moria home.”

  Matt frowned slightly and shook his head.

  I got the distinct impression he hadn’t contacted Dodie. Then who? Moria had to be the answer. I realized in that moment that his mar
riage to Moria wasn’t good long before her death.

  A picture of Matt’s return from Europe flashed in my head. It was common knowledge that he left the Canadians when the U.S. declared war and became a gunner for our Air Force. He had been wounded on a raid across the English Channel into Germany. Luckily, his plane made it back to base. The photograph in the paper had him in his military uniform, disembarking off the USS Edgar in New York while leaning against his cane. Moria had been beside him, looking like a happy dutiful wife. That had only been a year and a half ago.

  He straightened himself and looked at his watch. “It’s lunch time. Are you hungry? I believe I have enough makings for a sandwich.”

  As quickly as that, the ominous conversation ended. I nodded and followed him into the kitchen.

  His melancholy mood lifted after he ate. We walked along a trail around the lake. We stopped and sat on a boulder overlooking the bend in the water.

  Under the brilliant bright sky, a world of dazzling magic spread out before us. Each twig and blade of grass, each ripple of water against the shore, reflected the beauty of God’s painting. The forest offered the music of nature: the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves.

  This had been quite a day, I thought, as we sat side by side in the stillness. I couldn’t think of another place I wanted to be. A freedom existed here within the woods, no judgment, limitations, or bells. Only life. I thought, I can be who I am here.

  Perhaps it had been unwise to have accepted Matt’s invitation. I should have insisted he take me back to Goldie’s, but I would have been lying to myself. I wanted to be here.

  “You have told me nothing of yourself.”

  His voice woke me from my mindless thoughts. I looked at him and, for the first time, spoke to someone unfettered about myself.

  “There isn’t much to tell,” I said. “I am the daughter of Naomi Goodman and Holden Reeves. When I was four, Daddy returned home after work to find our house ablaze and Momma stumbling around outside. He asked her where I was. She pointed to the house, and he rushed inside to save me but lost his own life. Mr. Reeves has never forgiven me for costing him his only son. Ginny Rose said that his anger lashed out against Momma as well. She drank too much and fell asleep with a lit cigarette while I was playing in my bedroom. The curtains caught on fire. From there, the whole house was engulfed. At least, that’s what Ginny Rose told me.”

  For a moment, I went quiet. I remembered nothing of my father dying. Though there were times when I smelled smoke and my body went stiff. I never questioned Ginny Rose’s account because my only memory of Momma was of her drinking.

  Goldie had done her best to hide that side of Momma. She had taken us into her home after Daddy died. Momma had nowhere else to go. Her family had enough trouble looking after themselves; Daddy’s family wanted nothing to do with either of us. Eventually, Momma married Otis, but it had been Goldie who had always looked after me. She never cared that I heard the bells.

  “When did you start helping Mrs. Reeves?”

  I hesitated. “When I was fourteen,” I finally answered. “But don’t be mistaken. I may have the last name of Reeves, but I’m not one. I work for them.”

  “I think you have been treated most horribly.”

  I stared at him. His eyes betrayed the pity he felt. I didn’t want his pity.

  “I have no complaints if that’s what you’re saying,” I said more forcibly than I’d intended. “Goldie took me in as her own.”

  “There’s a difference in lacking for nothing and feeling a sense of belonging. You are straddled between two worlds: your father’s and mother’s. Despite your grandfather’s actions, you are a Reeves.”

  “I feel more like a Claudill,” I said honestly and waved my hand around me. “This is where I feel at home. I’m a stranger to my father’s world…and they don’t take kindly to those who aren’t…them.”

  He laughed. “That, I will give you.”

  “I love it here, too,” he went on. “When I was strapped to the belly of the bomber, it was here I dreamed about, hunting and fishing with Grandpa.” Matt stopped himself before he fell back to that time. He rose and hopped on his good leg to gain balance. He extended his hand to me. “I suppose we should get back, but I confess I have enjoyed our little escape today.”

  I accepted his hand with a smile. He took hold of my arm.

  “One thing you need to know about me, Cady Blue. I don’t listen to rumors.”

  I froze. Rumors, I thought, of me being a simpleton. I was wrong.

  He continued, “I don’t believe you are engaged to that golden boy preacher.”

  Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me as I had never dreamed of being kissed and awakened emotions of which I was totally ignorant.

  Conscious of the fact he had released me, I stumbled backward. He caught me with a little laugh. We walked back to his truck hand in hand. I was oblivious to anything other than his presence.

  It was after four in the afternoon when Matt finally dropped me off at Goldie’s.

  He grabbed my hand before I could turn the handle of the door. “I want to see you again.”

  Nodding, I managed, “I would like that.”

  “Then I will see you soon.”

  In a trance-like state, I walked into the house. Immediately, I woke from the spell I was under. Accusing eyes met mine.

  Goldie sat in her rocker, stilled by my appearance.

  “Where the hell have you been?” My head snapped to Otis, who sat on the couch, his foot lifted. Anger mottled his face.

  “We were worried.” Goldie’s voice was low and thick with displeasure. I recognized her concern didn’t lie with my health, but whose company I had been keeping.

  I refused to let my day be spoiled with an argument. I would deal with a troubled conscience later. I lied. “I’m so sorry. Matt drove me around until I felt better. We ended up at Sweetwater and had lunch.” I hoped my tone was matter of fact. I asked sweetly, “Would you like for me to start dinner?”

  Not waiting for a response, I headed into the kitchen and made a large chicken pot pie with biscuits. While we ate, no one mentioned the episode.

  The following morning, I opened the door for Frazier when he arrived early to drive me to service. He met me with his broad golden smile and heartfelt sympathy for leaving me in Matt’s care. I assured him I was fine, and the incident was forgotten.

  Guilt gnawed at me while Frazier preached. Listening, I realized that Matt was correct in his assumption. I would never marry Frazier. I liked him well enough as a friend, but not as a wife should.

  I told myself he needed a woman who could love him with her whole heart. I knew I never could. Perhaps it eased my conscience to believe that. I wished him the best, but I wanted more than friendship in a relationship.

  Before my day with Matt, I had never thought of the future. I lived one day to the next. Happy, for the most part, but there was something missing I hadn’t realized before that kiss—I wanted to love and be loved.

  Chapter 8

  After the heavy morning rain, the air smelled sweet and fresh. I slipped out of the house while Ginny Rose slept. Wiping down the outdoor chairs, I sat under the large oak with a glass of iced tea.

  In front of me, the garden had greened and looked robust. The sodden grass had thickened, and the bushes spread. Along the border of the house, hyacinths bloomed and filled the air with a sweet aroma. Out toward the shed, I watched a new litter of kittens play in the sun.

  My head buzzed with the turn of affairs. My mind was always on Matt. It had been over a week since I had last seen him, a week of questions and chastisements. I felt foolish for believing the kiss meant something and hanging onto his every word. I want to see you again…and then nothing.

  I had lost myself in the kiss, my first kiss. I wiped back a stray tear.

  The crunch of tires on gravel made me turn. It was Matt. He parked his truck and got out. He looked like he had come from work in his bl
ue buttoned-up shirt and khaki cuffed pants.

  His eyes met mine. He gave me a small smile.

  “Oh, hello, Matt. I wasn’t expecting you.” I gripped the arms of the lawn chair and started to rise. “Ginny Rose is sleeping, and Mr. Reeves is at work.”

  “I didn’t come here to see them. I came to see you.”

  He gestured for me to sit. He lowered his gaze, then looked back at me. I felt my cheeks warm under his watchful eyes.

  “Do you mind if I sit?” He pushed back his hat and rubbed the side of his face. He seemed to be trying to make up his mind about something.

  I shook my head.

  He took the seat next to me. “I took a chance that you were here. It seems I have lucked out to find you alone.”

  My heart sank. He had come to tell me the other day had been a mistake.

  “I’ve been thinking about us…I’m sorry.” He let the words hang in the air until they faded.

  I felt a sudden urge to cry. If I had been more experienced in the ways of men, I would not have shown any emotions or have laughed it off. All I wanted to do was to get as far away from him as I could. I stood with every intention of walking into the house.

  He grabbed my arm. “No, don’t go. Please. What I meant to say is that I’m sorry it took me so long to talk with you. I let my emotions get away from me out at the cabin.”

  I jerked back my arm. “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He shook his head. “Because I don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He released me and took a step back. “I have been wrestling with this fascination I hold with you…you have to realize that there is an attraction between us.”

  “You don’t want there to be,” I said in a low voice, trying desperately to hide my embarrassment. “Please don’t make this worse. We were friends that shared a lovely day. Nothing more.”

  “Liar.”

  He leaned in a little closer, close enough that I could breathe in his masculine scent. Unconsciously, I twisted my hands. My heart, my blood, my every breath were suspended in time.