Mr. Fowler came in at that moment, smelling to high heaven of aftershave, and the scent of it made Mama go green. She covered the lower half of her face with her hand. He had on a pair of clean pants, creased sharply, and I pictured Mama ironing and ironing them creases until they would just about cut your finger. That’s how he liked them. Same with his shirtsleeves. He looked from the stove to Mama, and back to the stove.
He said, “I told you yesterday I was going down to Swansboro to look at that new tractor this morning. Ain’t nothing cooked for breakfast? I mean, can’t I get a simple egg sandwich?”
Mama went to stand up, and I got between him and her and said, “She ain’t feeling up to it. Mama, sit back down, I’ll do it.”
All he said was, “Yeah? That’s too bad. Get to it, kid. I got to get going.”
I hurried to fry the egg, and toast the bread. I laid out ten slices, thinking of Ross and Trent while I was at it, knowing they’d be up soon. I put it all on a cookie sheet, dotted all but two slices with butter. Mr. Fowler watched every single thing I did, and knowing that made my fingers to feel stiff and clumsy, what with his eyes boring into my back. The one time I glanced at him, he made a point of looking at his wristwatch. I went faster, scooping bacon grease into the skillet and turning the burner on high. I cracked two eggs into it, and slid the bread into the oven. I had it all done in three minutes, if that. When I handed him the sandwich wrapped in wax paper, he leaned across the table. Mama was sitting in the chair, looking like a broken doll. He put the food under her nose and she averted her head quick.
He said, “That’s all I asked for.”
Mama’s voice was weak, and she said, “Frank, I’m not feeling well.”
He mocked her, “Fraaaank, I’m not feeling well.”
My voice low, I said, “Leave her alone.”
How obscure them eyes of his could get, black as night, and cold as the winter wind outside. I braced, waiting for him to yell at me, only his focus was on Mama. Like he couldn’t stand she wasn’t waiting on him.
He said, “I want my supper on the table when I get back.”
She nodded and he went out making sure he slammed the screen door, acting like a spoiled child. Mama’s nerves were as ragged as a torn, frayed sheet. I let my breath go and sank into the chair opposite her. A single fat tear rolled down her cheek.
I said, “Mama, don’t worry. I’ll cook supper.”
“It ain’t about supper.”
“What is it?”
She reached across the table and grabbed at my hand. “Oh, Sonny. I can’t hardly believe it.”
She sounded alarmed, almost panicked.
My own voice rose to match hers. “What Mama, what is it?”
She let go of my hand and said, “I need to eat a piece of toast.”
I jumped up to get one of the slices I’d left unbuttered. I put it on a saucer and brought it to her.
“You want some coffee?”
She shuddered. “No.”
I noticed she also wasn’t smoking her usual morning cigarette either, the one that always, always accompanied her first cup.
She nibbled at the toast, set it down, and without any further preamble, she said, “I’m pregnant.”
“Mama!”
Those were two words I’d not expected to hear. Pregnant! I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t hardly believe I’d heard her right. She was almost full-out crying now, and sort of clenching and unclenching her hands.
I said, “Maybe you ought to call Aunt Ruth, Mama. She’d know what to do.”
Mama acted like it was the last thing on her mind. “Ain’t nothing to do, Sonny. I’m gonna have a baby in about seven months. Lordy, I can’t believe this happened after all these years. I figured I was getting too old for this. I’ll soon be thirty-nine, and . . .”
Ross and Trent wandered into the kitchen, hair wet, and dressed ready to work, a habit they’d formed after the first morning here. They’d learned not to come to the breakfast table in their pajamas, hair stuck up all over the place, like they used to do at home ’cause Mr. Fowler had sent them back upstairs, yelling at them that nobody was allowed at his table looking like they’d just rolled out of bed.
They immediately noticed Mama’s tear-streaked face.
Trent said, “What’s the matter?”
Mama couldn’t seem to get the words out again, but Ross read it a different way. He was instantly mad, like he already figured it had something to do with Mr. Fowler. He looked like Daddy in that moment, same squared jaw, almost the same posture too.
He said, “Mama, it ain’t right, him acting like he is over a damn bracelet. How’s he gonna be when it’s something more serious? It worries me.”
Trent sat in one of the kitchen chairs and grabbed a piece of toast. “He ain’t gonna do nothing. He’s all bark and no bite.”
Ross said, “Oh yeah, Mr. Know-It-All, and what about Mr. Wells? Huh? What about what he did to him?”
Trent pointed at Mama. “He ain’t gonna mess with Mama like that.”
Ross said, “How do you know what he’ll do or not do, he’s liable to . . .”
Mama put her head into her hands. “Boys. Stop. I ain’t up to hearing no arguing.”
She lifted her head from her hands, and sighed.
I said, “You want this other piece of toast?”
She shook her head. “Boys, I’m expecting.”
Ross sighed deep, and Trent said, “Expecting what?”
Under any other circumstances I’d have laughed.
Ross shoved him and said, “A baby, you yo-yo.”
Trent gaped at Mama, his mouth open. Both boys turned a shade of red usually reserved for when some girl at school paid attention to them.
Mama spoke carefully, like she was testing the words out for herself. “A baby.” She pushed away from the table and said, “I’m going to go lie down.”
I said, “Don’t worry about nothing. I’ll fix supper tonight. You rest.”
She lifted a hand in acknowledgment, then let it drop. She didn’t look strong enough to carry no baby.
Ross said, “Son of a bitch,” and though it sounded like an exclamation, maybe he was calling Mr. Fowler that name too.
Trent said, “Damnation.”
I thought of something and rushed after her. She was already at the top of the stairs.
I said, “Mama, does he know?”
She shook her head.
I said, “Okay,” and when I heard the door to their room close, I stood still, unable to wipe out the ugly memory of what I’d heard happening in there. Him after her like a dog in heat. Him pawing at her with those big meaty hands of his, and how she’d winced a time or two when he grabbed her in that boisterous, energetic way of his. I drifted back into the kitchen where Ross and Trent had cleaned out the pan of toast and were now eating bowls of cereal.
I grabbed a couple of bananas, and Trent said, “You gonna meet what’s his face?”
Aggravated, I said, “Yes, but I’ll be back so Mama ain’t by herself.”
I went out, and jumped on my bike, rounding the big loop of a drive until I was on the road, where I pedaled furiously. Soon I was flying down Turtle Pond Road, and bad as I hated to admit liking anything to do with Mr. Fowler, the bike sure did get me over to our place quicker. Daniel was waiting for me by the barn. I jumped off the bike and tossed him a banana.
He said, “I wondered if you were coming.”
I looked up at that sky with not a cloud in it, appreciating that deep blue it could get in the wintertime. I sighed and looked at Daniel.
“Something happened,” I said.
He gave me a nervous look. “What?”
“Mama’s pregnant.”
He did the same thing we’d done, repeated the fact as if by saying it out loud, it might clear up the confusion he had. “Pregnant?”
“Yeah. She’s not feeling good. Why don’t you come to his place?”
“No.”
“He ain’t there
, Daniel. He’s gone to Swansboro. And Ross and Trent are gonna be in the fields today, and I don’t want Mama to be alone, in case she needs something.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just for a little while. He won’t be back till suppertime. You can leave right after lunch. He won’t ever know you been there.”
He paused, then with a hint of doubt, he mumbled, “All right.”
We hopped on our bikes, and it was fun riding side by side down the road, although I wouldn’t have minded being up on his handlebars if only to be closer to him. I found myself looking back over my shoulder now and then on that short ride back to Mr. Fowler’s house. He almost looked like the old Daniel, his hair whipping in the wind, his cheeks pink from the cold, and eyes as soft and warm as honey. Daniel was something else in my book, and I got to wishing he wasn’t, wishing it had been like it was when we were ten.
Up the drive we went and around to the back side of the house. I showed him where he could stow his bike so it was out of the way. We entered the kitchen, and found Mama back at the table again.
At the sight of Daniel, she smiled big and said, “Daniel, how nice to see you!”
“You too, Mrs. Cree—, I mean Mrs. Fowler.”
Mama said, “I’m not used to my new name yet neither.”
She asked how he was getting along, and then she took on a bad spell again.
She said, “Whew. I best go back upstairs and lie down. Did Sonny tell you the news?”
Daniel’s feet did a little shuffle and he mumbled, “Yes, ma’am. Congratulations.”
Mama said, “Well, it’s really too soon to be sharing the news outside of our little circle here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mama put her hand on his cheek and said, “Now, honey, you come back to visit soon. I’ll be feeling better, shortly, I’m sure.”
She gave me a little smile and turned to leave. She was still in her nightgown and robe and I saw a big bruise on her calf, and wondered how it got there. Daniel noticed too, and looked at me. I shook my head, and shrugged. Maybe she’d just bumped her leg.
For the next little bit, I showed Daniel the house. He agreed with me about the wallpaper, saying it was “downright disgusting.” He stared up at the tall ceilings, and at the artwork, and at all the mounted animals.
“Sumbitch has money, but Brenda’s got a better-looking sofa than that,” he declared, while pointing at the hideous orange and brown patterned monstrosity sitting in the study.
I snickered and said, “Darn thing’s ugly as all get out,” and then I got nervous about Daniel in enemy territory.
I said, “Come on, let’s go outside.”
We crossed the yard, heading for the big barn. The door had been pulled back and I could see Ross and Trent. Ross was filling up a gas can, and Trent was oiling one of the implements, and it got awkward ’cause of what had happened between Trent and Daniel in the cafeteria.
My plan was to simply ignore Trent. “Come on, Daniel, I want to show you something.”
To my surprise, Trent spoke to him. “Hey, Daniel, you seen any a them 3-D movies yet?”
Daniel sort of stuttered, and feeling protective, I said, “What do you want, Trent?”
Trent got huffy and said, “Nothing! I just asked him a question. I mean, I know he likes movies, and acting and all.”
“And since when did you decide you’re interested in anything Daniel does?”
“Well, just forget I asked, then!”
Daniel was a bigger person than me.
He said, “It’s okay. Yeah, I’ve seen one. It was really neat, like you were actually right there, in the scene.”
Trent nodded and said, “That’s what I heard. I want to go see one, myself, one a these days.”
Daniel said, “If you do, go see Inferno.”
Ross said, “Oh yeah, that’s the one I heard about.”
Considering how the day got started, this was an unexpected turn and a good one. Trent was likely feeling guilty.
And after a bit of an awkward silence, I said, “Well, come on, Daniel, there’s something over here I found.”
At the back of the barn was a set of old velvet curtains that had probably hung in one of the living rooms. They had some moth holes, but I’d thought of taking them over to the barn at our house, and using them for our stage. Considering where they’d been thrown, I had a feeling they wouldn’t ever be missed. Daniel and I were in the process of stretching them out to see how long they were—twelve-foot ceilings made for some really long ones—when I heard several vehicles pulling up into the drive and then doors slamming. One, two, three, four. The sound of footsteps coming in the direction of the barn made me catch my breath, and hold it. Daniel reminded me of a baby robin out of its nest too early, how they go absolutely still even if you walked right up to one, picked it up, and put it in the palm of your hand. They would remain frozen in place, as if not moving could somehow render them invisible.
I whispered to Ross, “We got to hide Daniel!”
Ross gave me a confused look and said, “Why?”
I was almost in tears, my voice hitching a little. “He told me to not ever bring him here. I thought it would be okay ’cause he wasn’t supposed to come back till tonight!”
Ross looked like he wanted to smack me for being so stupid.
He said, “Damn, Sonny. That’s gonna really piss him off. Geez.”
Daniel upon hearing that ran for the back of the barn. I followed, looking over my shoulder as four men filed in, one of them Mr. Fowler, and the other three wearing those scary hoods. An ice cold rush came over me. Suddenly, light from the sun was gone when one pulled the big barn door closed. They had shotguns, resting up on their shoulders, and aside from the sound of the door sliding to meet the wall, they were quiet, moving and doing without saying a word, like it was planned. Daniel stood with his back against the barn wall, tucked into a corner, hands clenched together, and I could hear him breathing hard. I crammed in beside him.
He whispered, alarm strangling his words so they came out high-pitched, “Why are they here?”
I shook my head, just as confused, and scared. “I don’t know!”
Mr. Fowler called out, “Where are you? Ain’t no sense hiding. Come on, you two, come on out and face the music. Go on and get’em, Stem.”
Ross said, “What’re you wanting?”
Mr. Fowler said, “You’ll see.”
I was terrified, and couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. This was happening ’cause of me. I’d only been thinking about what I wanted, going about without concern for getting caught. The tall thin hooded figure didn’t take long to spot us, crouched in the corner at the back of the barn. He looked like something out of a horror movie.
He spoke, a strong twang to his voice. “Aw, hell, Frank. It ain’t but a couple kids.”
“Don’t matter none. The girl knows she’s done disobeyed her daddy Frank.”
When the tall man called Stem went to grab Daniel, he went wild, biting, kicking, and yelling.
I hollered, “You leave him alone!” pulling on the man’s arm and trying to grab at the hood to pull it off.
Ross yelled the same thing. “Leave them alone!” and when he started to come help, a fat man jabbed him with the shotgun.
“Stem” shoved me aside, and Mr. Fowler told another man to help him, and between the two of them, they hauled us to the front of the barn, both of us bucking and kicking the entire way. The man who hit Ross and who was as fat as the one was skinny, had my brothers lined up against the side wall, holding the gun on them. It was like some true-to-life movie script of Daniel’s run amok.
Mr. Fowler said, “See. I been watching the both of you, all along. Traipsing around over at the old place. I was gonna do something about it then, but I said to myself, nah, let it go and see what happens. And look what happened. I can’t even say I’m gonna be gone for a day that you don’t contravene my number one rule.”
I struggled to
speak. “Please, please, it was a mistake. My mistake.”
He reared his head back and said, “What did I tell you?”
I gritted my teeth, and looked at Daniel. His head was down, hair covering his face. He was shaking. My heart clenched, seemed like it would stop.
I said, “You said to stay away from him, and I wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
He chuckled. “Girl, least you remembered what I said, even if you didn’t do as I said. All right, boys, let’s get this show on the road.”
He spoke to the hooded fat man holding the shotgun on Ross and Trent. My brothers were as stunned as I was, both of them unable to move.
Mr. Fowler said, “Big Boy, make sure them boys watch so they see what happens when someone like him”—and he gestured at Daniel—“goes and gets themselves confused. We’re gonna make it so the confusion is gone. Hell, if anything, we’ll be doing him a favor, and later on down the road, when he’s married, got kids and all, he’ll be thanking us. Stem, bring his little ass over here, and Rufus, you control that girl.”
Mr. Fowler walked to the stalls in the rear. The man called Big Boy drew closer to Trent and Ross, almost touching them with the gun, and nudged them to follow Mr. Fowler, while Stem grabbed Daniel by the arm and yanked him along to the back too. Daniel had quit fighting. He stared over his shoulder, his gaze locked on mine. Rufus kept a tight grip on my arm, preventing me from going after them, but upon seeing Daniel’s expression, I couldn’t even stand on my own two feet.
I sank down to the barn floor, repeating, “Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt him!”
I was certain we’d entered hell.
Chapter 29
Though I was watched over by the man called Rufus, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. I wouldn’t have left Daniel. Rufus wasn’t really paying attention to me, anyway. He faced the back of the barn, licked his lips over and over, and rubbed on himself. I shook and my heart felt as if it split right in two. Soon, another emotion I could only identify as rage, an anger unlike anything I’d ever experienced, with the sort of thoughts I’d never had, took over. If I’d have had a gun, I’d have shot them all dead. I knelt in the dirt, folded over, my chest against my knees, my posture like I was praying, and I was. Hard as I could. I prayed for Mama to come. I prayed hard as I’ve ever prayed, harder even than for Daddy to come back. I was petrified they would kill him. That this would kill him.
The Forgiving Kind Page 27
