I awakened a long while later when a stream of light touched my face. Disoriented and still drowsy, I wondered what I was doing sleeping on the ground. Then remembering, I clambered to my knees and leaned forward, parting the ferns cautiously. The jar of preserves was still where I had placed it. Dejected, I let the fronds snap back. It was a vain hope that the sin eater would come so soon. If he came at all.
I left my post and went to Miz Elda.
“Any luck?” she said from where she was sitting in the shade on her porch. I didn’t have to ask her what she meant.
“No, ma’am. It’s a mighty big mountain, and he don’t want to be found.”
“So ye’ve given up already. God made the world in six days, and ye can’t even find one measly soul on a mountain in eight.”
“I ain’t giving up. I put preserves on Granny’s grave just like she done.”
“Stole ’em, did ye?”
I hung my head.
“If it ain’t yers, it ain’t much of an offering. Just like when ye brung me flowers from me own meadow.”
The heat of shame came up in my face, burning plain for her to see. My eyes felt hot and my throat tight. “I don’t have nothing to give,” I said in my own defense.
“Ye just ain’t thought on it much yet.” Leaning back, she closed her eyes and rocked slowly.
My spirit was cast down within me. I walked the rows of her vegetable garden, plucking a weed here and there, and then wandered off again. Without even thinking on it, I ended up back at the river and followed it right up to the Narrows and the tree bridge where I’d been forbidden to venture.
I could not seem to helpmyself. For as long as I could remember, the place had drawn me. The trail out of our valley lay on the other side. To get to it, you crossed over the river in Kai Valley where it shallowed. The Narrows was a deadly place, but beautiful, too. The rush and tumble of the water swirling over the rocks and pouring down into the deep pool below the falls had always beguiled me. Iwan was the first to show me the Narrows and the falls, though Mama was terrible angry with him for doing so. It was dangerous, and it was also “the doorway to the outside world.” Being good, Iwan never took me back again. He didn’t have to, for I went on me own. I’d lay on my stomach and peer over the edge, my heart racing at the sound of the water’s roar.
I had long wondered about the trail on the other side. The first time I’d ventured across the tree bridge had been the year Elen was born. I was six and Mama had no time for me. To my way of thinking, I’d been loaded down with her chores as well as my own while she cuddled and cooed over my baby sister. I had never been so scared as that day when I inched my way across the tree bridge. I imagined myself falling into that swirling torrent, tossed around and pulled down to smash against the rocks before plunging over the falls. I was shaking so bad I sat straddling the tree and worked my way across that way.
The second time, I was eight and showed more courage.
I crossed over the Narrows dozens of times after that, venturing down the trail to the pool below the falls. It was a magical place with ferns, azaleas, rhododendrons, and towering pine.
The pool was deep and blue, the water cold and clear. Gathering in the rocky basin, it surged over more rocks, turning to the south and racing on. To the sea, Papa said. Our river, like all others, ran to the sea.
Papa and Iwan had followed that river last year. They were gone five days and came back with nothing to show for their journey.
The air was heavier still, the clouds darkening. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a roll of thunder. It would rain soon, as it often did on sultry afternoons. The rain never lasted, just fell long enough to drench the mountains and raise a mist come morning.
Standing above the falls, I saw someone below kneeling on the mossy bank and bending over the water for a drink. Drawing back, I hid myself among the low-hanging blooming serviceberry tree. I thought he was an Indian at first, for I’d heard they wore their hair long and dressed in buckskins. Then he leaned back and straightened up, and I saw he was tan like Papa and wore a beard. He wiped the moisture from it and cocked his head as he looked up in my direction, like he sensed I was there.
I drew back quickly, but not so far I couldn’t watch as he headed up the steep trail that would bring him into our valley.
Curiosity made me scamper across the tree bridge and dive into the thick bushes on the other side. Who was he? And why was he coming? Other than Lilybet, I’d never known a stranger to enter our cove, and I wanted a closer look.
The stranger came up the steep incline. As he came up the trail, head high, I could see his lips were moving. When he reached the top, he paused and looked down at the falls and then up along the course of the river through the Narrows. I could hear him then, for he spoke loudly, his right hand stretched out above and before him.
“The voice of the Lord is upon the waters: the God of glory thundereth: the Lord is upon many waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty. The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars! Yea—” he turned away from me, his hands rising as he looked up. His voice rose again, and gooseflesh rose upon me—“The voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness . . . the voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve, and discovereth the forests; and in his temple doth every one speak of his glory. . . .”
Shuddering, I shrank back further into the fronds and cascading branches, crouching there, holding still. My heart pounded. Could this be God come to our highland? And if not, was he someone sent by the Almighty himself?
Turning, the man started along the path toward our valley, his voice coming on stronger with each step. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof; the world, and they that dwel-leth therein. ” He moved away so that I could not hear. I crept through the brush above him, straining my ears, terrified to get too close lest his eyes turn upon me.
“Lift up your hearts, O ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting door and the King of glory shall come in! Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty! The Lord mighty in battle! The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory!”
The wild-haired man stopped and thrust his hands high.
Head back, his voice rose again. “Hear me when I call, O God! Lord Jesus, hear my prayer! Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my God and King; for unto thee and thee alone I pray. You are a God that hath no pleasure in wickedness, and there is wickedness in these mountains. Oh, yea, Lord, neither shall evil dwell with thee. The foolish shall not stand in thy sight. Thou hatest all workers of iniquity. Thou shalt destroy evildoers!”
Lightning flashed close by, making the hair on my head rise and chills course down my body even as the sky rumbled an answer to the man. Retreating, I pressed my way as quickly as I could through the undergrowth above the trail.
He must have heard, for he called out, “Who’s up there?”
Terrified, I hastened my flight. Leaping to the trail, I ran for the tree bridge. I must have made plenty of noise in my flight, for he followed after me. I thought sure he would send a lightning bolt to strike me dead.
“Child, wait!”
I leaped nearly as high as my heart did. Four bounding steps took me across the tree bridge to the other side, another four plunged me into the forest. I hid there in the shadows, shaking and watching fearfully as he stood on the other side of the Narrows. His lips moved. Perhaps he was calling down some curse of God upon my head. Panting, heart racing, I closed my eyes and clutched the tree behind which I hid and waited for the lightning to strike.
It didn’t come.
When I finally dared openmy eyes again, the stranger was gone.
I ran all the way to the cemetery. The jar of preserves was gone. For one instant, I felt a rush of hope until I saw the footprints. My heart sank. I didn’t want to go home to what I knew was waiting.
The rain came, peltingme with icy drops as I stayed the day in the forest. I knew the storm would pass soon. When it did, I went and sat
in the midst of the meadow below Miz Elda’s house, drying in the afternoon sunshine. It was warm enough that steam rose from my thin dress as I picked mountain daisies, shook off the raindrops, and spliced stems together to make a wreath. I laced in bluets and Queen Anne’s lace and mountain laurel.
When I finally came home, Mama was sitting in Granny’s chair outside. Her face was pale and rigid. I had never seen such a look in her eyes before and was afraid. Papa and Iwan hadn’t come in from fishing yet, and we were alone. I held out the crown of flowers for her. A year ago she would have taken them and kissed me. Now, she just looked at them, winced, and rose. Turning away, she went on into the house. I followed her and saw the jar of preserves sitting right in the middle of the table.
“If it ain’t one thing, it’s another, Cadi. Ye’ve always been contrary. Right from the first when it took me two days birthin’ ye. I almost died . . .” She drew in a sobbing breath. “Ye’ve always been a child going where ye oughtn’t go and doing what ye oughtn’t do. And now ye’re a thief besides, stealing from the mouths of your own family.”
There was no defense against her words, the first she’d spoke to me in a long time. They came in a rush, pouring out hot and heavy. She grabbed my arms, shaking me so hard I thought my neck would snap. “What’re ye doing in the graveyard?” Her fingers dug in painfully, jerking me back and forth. “Ye never think before ye do summat, do ye? Ye never think of the evil that can come. Ye just do what comes to ye without a care!”
Letting loose of me, she grabbed the flower wreath from my hand. “Ye think flowers can undo what’s been done?” She broke it. “Ye think to fix grief with these?” She tore at it with trembling hands until the flowers were scattered at her feet. “Ye think being sorry’s enow? It’ll never change nothing. I wish . . . I wish . . .” She stopped, her face white of a sudden when wailing filled the room.
My hands gripped my head, and the sound continued. I’m not sure when I realized I was doing the wailing, but I couldn’t stop. The sound come from down deep inside where something was broken. All I could do was stand there and look at the shredded wreath and Mama and wail.
Trembling, she took a step back from me, her face contorting. She looked down at the floor. “Ohhh . . .” Dropping to her knees, she gripped her head and rocked back and forth, and I fell silent.
“What goes on in here?” Papa said from the doorway. Seeing Mama, he came in quickly and yanked me away from her. “What’d ye do now, Cadi? Go on outside. Go on, I say! Get out of here!”
I didn’t have to be told again.
It was Iwan who found me sitting in the quiet of the barn. “Mama’s fine,” he said as he sat down beside me. “She dinna say what ye’d done to get her so upset. Ye want to tell me?” When I shook my head, he ran his hand gently over my hair. “Mama says to come in for supper.”
“I ain’t hungry.”
“Ye sick then?”
I gave a shrug and looked away, toying with the straw. Aye. I was sick. Heartsick.
He plucked a piece of straw from my hair. “Mama said hungry or not, ye’re to come in and sit with the rest of us.” He took me by the hand.
No one said much of anything. Even Papa didn’t seem to have much appetite. He said he was going to have to make a trip down to the trading post for more shot and powder, and if Mama would tell him what she needed, he’d see to it. When I got up and cleared the dishes, Mama sat looking at me for a long moment. I could feel her eyes on my back. She got up quietlike and went outside to sit in Granny’s chair. She stayed there the rest of the evening, just staring up at the darkening sky. I was in bed long before she came back in.
Head covered with Granny’s quilt, I could hear her moving about while Papa snored. She went to bed once and then got up again. I could hear her moving things about on the shelves and wondered if she was counting the jars and cans again, wondering how much else I might have stole. I burrowed down deeper.
“Cadi?”
I sjpgened, but it was no use pretending I was sleeping. I drew the quilt down slightly, afeared of what more she would have to say to me.
“Take ’em.” She put the jar of preserves next to me. “I want ye to have ’em.” Her voice broke softly. She stood a moment longer. Reaching out, she made to touch me and then withdrew again, padding back to bed.
Come morning, I put the jar of preserves back in the cemetery.
S E V E N
Brogan Kai and two of his older sons came to talk with Papa. I shucked corn on the porch while Mama sat inside, spinning. She had heard the hound barking and asked me what was wrong. Once told, she went back to her own thoughts, not plagued by curiosity. Like it was most days, her mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in the past, I reckoned, where Elen still lived.
Fagan’s father was the fiercest looking man I ever seen. He had dark hair and eyes, and he was taller than Papa by a head and built thick and hard. Just seeing him put fear in most people, and Cleet and Douglas took after him. I wondered how Fagan dared defy his father, being small by comparison to the rest of his clan. Fagan had blue eyes like his mother. Iwan said once that Fagan was like a falcon born into a nest of eagles.
All three Kais shouldered guns that morning. I figured they were out hunting again. They were always hunting. Once a year, they took pelts outside our highland valley, though they never seemed to come back the richer for it.
I found it disturbing they talked so long to Papa. Kai men were not much for visiting. The only time you ever saw them all together was when someone had died and they came to pay their respects.
Or when there was trouble.
I reckoned the latter by Papa’s stance. Soon as the Kais left, Papa came up to the house. “There’s a stranger in our highlands, Cadi. If ye see him, get away. Hear me?”
“Yes, Papa, but why?” I hoped he could put my fears in words, but he glowered at me.
“Don’t be asking why. Just do like you’re told. Ye’ve shucked enow. Go on and play. But stay close, ye hear? Your mama will call ye back when she’s ready.”
He could have just said straight out he wanted to talk to Mama without me around to eavesdrop. Setting the bowl aside, I went down the steps, making to leave. Soon as he went inside, I darted around and squatted beneath the window Mama always left open while she spun. I had to know what the Kais had said about the man of God. I was willing to take whatever came, even a lashing and dark hours in the woodshed if need be.
“An outsider’s come,” I heard Papa saying. “The Kai says the mon’s camping in the center of the valley by the river and claims he’s come in the name of the Lord.”
The click of her spinning wheel didn’t stop. “What would God want with us?” I could hear the bitterness in her voice, as clear as her laughter had once been.
Papa didn’t say nothing for a minute, then went on.“The Kai says he’s crazy. Talks about all of us being rotten and needing redemption. The Kai says to stay away from him.”
It seemed an odd warning since Mama never ventured down the hill anymore. She couldn’t bear to go near the river or even look at it. It didn’t seem likely she’d be crossing it to listen to some stranger from the outside world.
“If he’s dangerous, why don’t they run him out now?”
“Brogan’s given the mon the word and time to think on it. Figures he’ll go on his own if no one pays him any mind.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“The Kai’ll deal with him. Outsiders have come before. They dinna stay long.”
I could not remember a single outsider entering our valley and reckoned Papa must be talking of times before I came to be. I wondered if Iwan would remember.
“If he ain’t dangerous,” Mama asked, “where’s the harm in letting him stay?”
“The land’s all taken up. We ain’t got room for more.”
“That’s not the reason, and you know it.”
“Reason enow. Ye want people coming and bringing their own ideas about how things oughta go? The Kais and
Forbeses and Humes and all the rest came up here to these highlands to get away from all that. We have our ways, Fia. Ye ken that. And they be tried and true.”
“Our ways? Seems to me Brogan lays down the law harder than—”
“Dunna be speaking again’ him, Fia.”
“They did what he wanted, dinna they? And now we’re cursed for it!”
“We’re not cursed. Dunna talk such foolishness.”
“Three children dead, Angor. What do you call that? Three.” I could hear her weeping.
“Others have lost children to fevers and such, Fia. Ye oughta be counting your blessings instead of wallowing in your grief. We’ve had enow!We’ve got Iwan and Cadi.” His voice softened some. “Think on them for a change.”
“Iwan’s good as gone. Soon as he’s old enow he’ll be taking his leave. And Cadi? What comfort is she, mad as she is?”
“She isna mad!”
“What do ye call it when she talks to air all the time?”
“Maybe the healer’s right and she’s keeping company with a taint.”
“Don’t say that!”
“It oughta bring ye comfort, Fia,” he said in a cold, cruel voice. “It could mean Elen’s not gone from us after all.”
Mama wept harder, and my guilt grew intolerable. It was what I’d done that had them at each other’s throats. I sat down, back against the wall and my hands covering my head, hearing them go on at one another.
“Just stay away from the mon like I’m telling ye,” Papa said. “Ye believe in God, same as I do. Wedon’t need anybody saving us, and we sure don’t need no one laying more burdens on our backs. We got more than enow already.”
“How do ye know that’s what he’s about?”
“The Kai heard him out and says so. That’s good enow for me.”
“Brogan has his own ax to grind.”
Papa was silent for a moment. “If the stranger comes, I’ll warn him off.”
The Last Sin Eater Page 8
