Just before she left for school the following morning, Emily appeared in my doorway to tell me to look into myself for the answer as to why my monthly pain was so intense. I pretended I didn't hear or see her. I didn't glance at her nor did I reply and she left. But I couldn't help wondering why she wasn't ever inconvenienced by her period. It was almost as if she had never had one.
Despite the pain it brought, I couldn't help but look at my period as a blessing of sorts, for it made it possible for me to avoid facing the world with my hair hacked off. Every time I contemplated getting dressed and venturing out, I felt my stomach cringe even more. Wearing a bonnet or covering myself in shawls would only postpone the inevitable—the looks of shock and surprise on the faces of the girls and the grins and laughter on the faces of the boys.
However, early in the evening of the second day, Mamma sent Louella up to fetch me down to dinner, mostly because of Papa's fury.
"The Captain says to get yourself right downstairs, honey. He's waiting dinner on your arrival. I do believe he'll come up here and fetch you himself if you don't come along," Louella said. "He's ranting and raving how there's one invalid child in this house already; he won't stomach two."
Louella pulled one of my dresses out of the closet and got me up. When I went downstairs, I saw that Mamma had been crying. Papa's face was red and he was tugging on the ends of his mustache, something he always did when he was irritated.
"That's better," he said when I sat down. "Now let's begin."
After Emily's reading, which seemed interminable this time, we ate in silence. Mamma was obviously not in the mood to chatter about her friends and their lives. The only sounds came from Papa's chomping on his meat and the click of silverware and china. Suddenly, Papa stopped chewing and turned to me as if he had just remembered something. He pointed his long right forefinger at me and said, "You see that you get up and go to school tomorrow, Lillian. Understand? I don't want another child in this house being waited on hand and foot. Especially one who's healthy and strong and got nothing more than a woman's regular problem. Hear?"
Swallowing first, I started to speak, faltered, tried to pull my eyes from the strong look of his, and finally just nodded and meekly replied, "Yes, Papa."
"It's enough the way people talk about this family as it is, one daughter sick from day one until now . . ." He looked at Mamma. "If we had a son . . ."
Mamma started to sniffle.
"Cut that out at the table," Papa snapped. He started to eat and then decided to rattle on instead. "Every good Southern family has a son to carry on its name, its heritage. All but the Booths, that is. When I go, so goes my family name and all it stands for," he complained. "Every time I walk into my office and look up at my granddaddy, I feel ashamed."
Tears filled Mamma's eyes, but she managed to hold them back. At this moment I felt more sorry for her than I did for myself. It wasn't her fault she had given birth to only girls. From what I had read and learned about human reproduction, Papa bore some of the responsibility. But what hurt even more was the idea that girls weren't good enough. We were second-class children, consolation prizes.
"I'm willin' to try again, Jed," Mamma moaned. My eyes widened with surprise. Even Emily looked more animated. Mamma, have another baby, at her age? Papa just grunted and began eating again.
After dinner I went to see Eugenia. I had to tell her what Papa had said and what Mamma had said, but I met Louella in the hallway returning with Eugenia's dinner tray. Everything on it looked untouched.
"She fell asleep trying to eat," Louella said, shaking her head. "Poor thing."
I hurried to Eugenia's room and found she was in a deep sleep, her eyelids pasted shut, her chest wheezing as it lifted and fell under the blanket. She looked so pale and gaunt, it put a chill in my heart. I waited at her side, hoping she might awaken, but she didn't move; her eyelids didn't even flutter so I retreated sadly to my room.
That night I tried to do things with my hair to make it look decent. I put pins in. I tried a silk bow. I brushed and brushed the sides and back, but nothing seemed to help. Ends stuck up and out. It simply looked horrible. I dreaded going to school, but when I heard Papa's boots click down the corridor in the morning, I jumped out of bed and got myself ready. Emily was all smiles. I never saw her look so con-tented. We started out together, but I let her get ahead of me, so that when we joined up with the Thompson twins and Niles, the twins and she were a good ten yards or so in front of me and Niles.
He smiled the moment he saw me. I felt so weak and light I was sure a strong wind could blow me away. I held firmly to the brim of my bonnet and plodded down the road avoiding his gaze.
"Good morning," he said. "I'm glad you're up and about today. I missed you. I'm sorry about what happened."
"Oh Niles, it's been dreadful, absolutely horrible. Papa made me go to school. Otherwise, I'd bury myself under my blankets again and stay there until next Christmas," I said.
"You can't do that. Everything will be all right," he assured me.
"No it won't," I insisted. "I look terrible. Wait until you set eyes on me with my bonnet off. You won't be able to look at me without laughing," I told him.
"Lillian, you could never look terrible to me," he replied, "and I would never laugh at you." He shifted his eyes away quickly, a crimson wave moving up his neck and over his face after his confession. His words warmed my heart and gave me the strength to continue. But not his words, not any words nor any promises could ease the pain and embarrassment that awaited me in the schoolyard.
Emily had done a good job of informing everyone about what had happened. Of course, she had left out her part in it and made it seem as though I had just stupidly confronted a skunk. The boys were clumped together and waiting for me. They started in as soon as I turned up the driveway to the schoolhouse.
Led by Robert Martin they began to chant, "Here comes Stinky." Then they pinched their noses and grimaced as if the odor of the skunk was still emanating from my clothes and body. As I walked forward, they retreated, squealing and pointing. Their laughter filled the air. The girls smiled and laughed, too. Emily stood off to the side, observing with satisfaction. I lowered my head and started for the front door when suddenly Robert Martin charged forward and grabbed the brim of my bonnet to scoop it off my head, leaving me exposed.
"Look at her. She's bald," Samuel Dobbs shouted. The schoolyard was filled with hysterical laughter. Even Emily smiled widely, instead of coming to my defense. Tears streamed down my face as the boys continued their chant: "Stinky, Stinky, Stinky," and then alternating it with "Baldy, Baldy, Baldy."
"Give her back her bonnet," Niles told Robert. Robert laughed defiantly and then pointed at him.
"You walk with her; you stink too," he threatened, and the boys pointed at Niles and laughed at him.
Without hesitation, Niles charged forward and tackled Robert at the knees. In moments the two of them were locked in bearlike embraces and rolling over each other on the gravel driveway. They kicked up a cloud of dust as the other boys cheered and screamed. Robert was bigger than Niles, stouter and taller, but Niles was so infuriated, he managed to push Robert off him and then get on top of him. In the process my bonnet got badly crushed.
Miss Walker finally heard the commotion and came rushing out of the schoolhouse. It took only her scream and a command to part the two of them. All the other children stepped back obediently. She had her hands on her hips, but as soon as Niles and Robert parted, she seized both of them by their hair and marched them grimacing in pain into the school-house. There was some subdued laughter, but no one dared attract Miss Walker's anger now. Billy Simpson fetched my bonnet for me. I thanked him, but it was impossible to put it on again. It was full of dust and the brim had been snapped in front. No longer caring about covering my head anyway, I walked into the schoolhouse with the others and took my seat.
Robert and Niles were punished by being forced to sit in the corner, even through lunch recess, and then ma
de to stay an hour after school. It didn't matter who was at fault, Miss Walker declared. Fighting was prohibited and anyone caught doing so would be punished. When I looked at Niles, I thanked him with my eyes. His face had a scratch from the chin up the left cheek and his forehead was bruised, but he returned my glance with a happy smile.
As it turned out, Miss Walker asked me if I wanted to remain after school too so I could catch up with the work I had missed. While Niles and Robert had to sit quietly in the rear of the classroom with their hands tightly clasped on the desk, their backs straight and their heads up, I worked with Miss Walker in the front of the room. She tried to cheer me up by telling me my hair would grow back in no time and by telling me that short hair was in style in some places. Just before we were finished, she excused Niles and Robert, but not before she gave them a firm warning and told them that if she caught either of them fighting or heard about either of them fighting, their parents would have to come to the school before they could return. It was obvious from Robert's expression that he was more afraid of that than anything. The moment he could go home, he charged out of the building and ran off. Niles waited for me at the bottom of the hill. Fortunately, Emily had already left.
"You shouldn't have done that, Niles," I told him. "You got yourself in trouble for nothing."
"It wasn't for nothing. Robert's a . . . a donkey. I'm sorry your bonnet got broken," Niles said. I carried it over my books.
"Mamma will be upset, I suppose. It was one of her favorites, but I don't think I'm going to try to cover up my head anymore. Besides, Louella says I should let the air get to it and it will grow faster."
"That sounds right," Niles said. "And I have one other idea," he added, his eyes twinkling.
"What?" I asked quickly. He answered me with a grin. "Niles Thompson, you tell me what you're talking about this instant or . . ."
He laughed and leaned toward me to whisper. "The magic pond."
"What? How can that help?"
"You just come along with me right now," he said, taking my hand. I had never walked along a public road holding hands with a boy before. He gripped mine tightly in his and walked as quickly as he could. I practically had to run to keep up with him. When we reached the path, we charged over the grass as we had that first time and arrived at the pond quickly.
"Now first," Niles said, kneeling down at the edge of the water. He dipped his hands into the pond and stood up. "We sprinkle the magic water over your hair. Close your eyes and wish while I do it," he said. The afternoon sunlight streaking in between the trees made his thick dark hair shine. His eyes turned even softer, meeting and locking with mine. I did feel we were standing in a mystical and wonderful place.
"Go on, close your eyes," he urged. I did so and smiled at the same time. I hadn't smiled for days. I felt the drops sink through my shortened strands and touch my scalp and then, quite unexpectedly, I felt Niles's lips touch mine. My eyes snapped open with surprise.
"That's one of the rules," he said quickly. "Whoever puts the water on you, has to seal the wish with a kiss."
"Niles Thompson, you're making this up as you go along and you know it."
He shrugged, holding his soft smile.
"I guess I couldn't help myself," he confessed. "You wanted to kiss me even though I look like this?"
"Very much. I want to kiss you again, too," he admitted.
My heart thumped happily. I took a deep breath and said, "Then do it."
Was I terrible for inviting him to kiss me again? Did this mean Emily was right . . . I was full of sin? I didn't care; I couldn't care and I couldn't believe she was right. Niles's lips on mine felt too good to be wrong. I closed my eyes, but I felt him move closer, fraction by fraction. I could sense him in every pore. My skin seemed to wake up and turn into a zillion antennae, each almost invisible hair quivering.
He put his arms around me and we kissed harder and longer than ever. He didn't let go, either. When he stopped kissing my lips, he kissed my cheek and then he kissed my lips again and then he put his lips to my neck and I released a soft moan.
My whole body was exploding with delight. There were tingles in places I had never felt tingles. A wave of warmth rushed through my veins and I leaned forward and demanded his lips on mine one more time.
"Lillian," he whispered. "I was so upset when you and Eugenia didn't show up and I heard what had happened to you. I knew how terrible you were feeling and I felt terrible for you. Then, when you didn't come to school, I was going to come to your house again and try to see you. I even thought about climbing up the roof to your bedroom window at night."
"Niles, you didn't? You wouldn't, would you?" I asked, both frightened and titillated by the possibility. What if I were undressed or in my nightgown?
"One more day without you and I might have," he said bravely.
"I thought you would find me so ugly you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me. I was afraid that—"
He put his finger on my lips.
"Don't say such silly things." He lifted his finger away and replaced it with his lips. As he pressed them to mine again, I let myself grow limp in his arms. My legs trembled and slowly, gracefully, we sank to the grass. There, we explored each other's faces with our fingers, our lips, our eyes.
"Emily says I'm wicked, Niles. I might be," I warned him. He started to laugh. "No, really. She says I'm a Jonah and that I only bring sadness and tragedy to people who are near me, people who . . . love me."
"You bring only happiness to me," he said. "Emily's the Jonah. Miss Ironing Board," he added and we laughed. The reference to Emily's flat chest put his attention on mine. I saw his eyes drink in my bosom and when I closed my eyes, I envisioned his hands on my breasts. Right now, his right hand rested on my side. Slowly, I lowered my left hand to his wrist and then brought his hand up until his fingers grazed my breast. He resisted at first. I heard him take a deep breath, but I couldn't stop. I pressed his palm to my breast and then brought my lips to his. His fingers moved until they settled over the nipple of my breast and I moaned. We kissed and petted for a few more moments. The spiraling heat and passion that was turning into wider and wider circles, encompassing most of my body, began to frighten me. I wanted to do more; I wanted Niles to touch me everywhere, but in the background, I could hear Emily chanting: "Sinner, sinner, sinner." Finally, I pulled away.
"I'd better get home," I said. "Emily will know what time I left school and how long it takes me to get home."
"Sure," Niles said, even though he looked very disappointed. We both stood up and brushed off our clothes. Then, without speaking we hurried over the path and out to the road again. At the turnoff to his house, we paused and looked up and down the road. No one was in sight, so we chanced a quick good-bye kiss, just a peck on the lips. But his lips were on mine all the way home and didn't lift away until I saw Doctor Cory's carriage at the house. My heart sank.
Eugenia, I thought. Oh no, something's wrong with Eugenia. I ran the rest of the way, hating myself for just feeling so good while poor Eugenia was in some desperate battle for her very life.
I burst through the doorway and then stood in the entryway, gasping for breath. Panic seized me in a tight grip and I couldn't move. I could hear the subdued voices coming from the corridor to Eugenia's room. They grew louder and louder until Doctor Cory appeared with Papa beside him and Mamma trailing behind them, her face streaked with tears, a handkerchief clutched in her hand. One look at Doctor Cory's face told me this was more serious than ever.
"What's wrong with Eugenia?" I cried. Mamma started to cry harder, moaning loudly. Papa looked beet red with embarrassment and rage.
"Stop that, Georgia. It doesn't do anyone any good and just makes things worse for the rest of us."
"You don't want to get yourself sick, too, Georgia," Doctor Cory said softly. Mamma's wail lowered to a whimper. Then she set eyes on me and shook her head.
"Eugenia's dying," she moaned. "It don't seem fair, but on top of every
thing else, she's come down with smallpox."
"Smallpox!"
"With her body as weak as it is, she doesn't stand much chance," Doctor Cory said. "It came on her quicker than it would a normally healthy person and she doesn't have much left to fight with," he said. "She's about as far gone as a person who's had it more than a week."
I started to cry. My body heaved with the sobs so hard and fast, my chest ached. Mamma and I embraced, both burying our tears in each other's shoulders.
"She's . . . in a deep . . . coma right now," Mamma gasped between sobs. "Doctor Cory says it's only a matter of hours and the Captain wants her to die here like most of the Booths anyway."
"No!" I screamed and tore myself out of her arms. I ran down the corridor to Eugenia's room where I found Louella sitting at the bedside.
"Oh Lillian, honey," she said, standing up. "You gotta stay away. It's contagious."
"I don't care," I cried, and went to Eugenia.
Her chest heaved and fell, heaved and fell with her struggle to breathe. There were dark circles around her shut eyes and her lips were blue. Her skin had already taken on the pallor of a corpse, the pustules rearing their ugly heads. I went to my knees beside her and pressed the back of her small hand to my lips, the lips that had just enjoyed Niles Thompson's kiss. My tears dropped on Eugenia's wrist and hand.
"Please don't die, Eugenia," I muttered. "Please don't die."
"She can't help herself none," Louella said. "It's in God's hands now."
I looked up at Louella and then at Eugenia, and the fear of losing my precious sister Eugenia turned my heart to cold stone. I swallowed. The ache in my chest was so sharp, I thought I would pass out at Eugenia's bedside.
Cutler 5 - Darkest Hour Page 14
