Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy

by Roxane Tepfer Sanford

  I didn’t know what to do next. A part of me wanted him to kiss me again, and another feared it. He began to pace back and forth, running his hands through his thick, curly hair. Then he faced me and told me to go away. It was as if something had snapped in him, and he blamed me for the kiss. He was suddenly irrational and angry.

  “Why don’t you just do what you are told to do, Lillian? Why do you go out of your way to cause trouble? I was here to help; now look what you made me do!”

  I caused him to take hold of me and place his lips on mine? Was there something in me that made him want to take advantage of me? Did I give him a signal, a sign, anything that told him I wanted him to love me? Was he able to read my mind? Was it really my fault? my mind screamed.

  “You’re just a little girl. Forget what happened. I like you as a sister.” Heath came to me one last time, grabbed my face in his hand, and made me look up at him. He was on the verge of tears; his face was red and twisted. “Do you understand that, kid?”

  I cried out that I understood. He let go and stormed off, and I fell to the ground and wept. I wanted to hurl myself into the cold waters of the Atlantic, just as Momma did once before. I felt for the first time as she must have; I had enough despair to end my life. What did I matter any longer? Daddy only needed Momma, Momma didn’t know who I was, and she didn’t know she had a daughter. And she was long gone—far, far away, locked up in a cold institution where I would never see her again. Opal and Edward had their own family to worry about, Ayden didn’t understand what was going on, and Elizabeth was only a baby.

  Then there was Heath. He hated me; he blamed me for making him so frustrated by my childish actions that he lost his mind for a moment. In the heat of the moment, he probably thought I was Clara. After all, I was close to her age when he loved her; I was getting the same curves and filled-out bosom she had. Heath was confused, and when he realized it was me, he was angry. He was angry I wasn’t Clara, and he had kissed a girl who was like a sister to him. He was disgusted with me, and I didn’t blame him.

  Everyone would be better off without me. So I decided to do it. I walked slowly, my head lowered, until I finally came to the same bluff where Momma had jumped to end her life. Lady came and sat by my side, and I told her to go away, but she refused to budge. I raised my head and looked out to the endless sea, and thought of all the souls that were out there, lying on the bottom of the ocean in their forever grave. That’s where I was going to go. I wouldn’t be alone, in a way. It was a perfect last day on Earth for me.

  The breezes were soft; the sun was high against the clear blue sky. Overhead, the seagulls hovered, and the sight took me back to earlier days when I first came to Jasper Island. Those were good days, the best days I had ever had. Momma and Daddy were happy and in love; I had new friends. I went to school for the first time, and I had been lucky enough to have fallen in love with the most handsome boy in the world. However, it all changed, and life had altered so significantly it wasn’t worth living any longer.

  I turned and looked back at the lighthouse one last time and blew Daddy a kiss, and one for Elizabeth, closed my eyes, took a step, and felt myself float down until I hit the freezing waters of the sea. The instant pain took my breath away. It would be a painful death; that I hadn’t truly expected. My body tried to keep me afloat; I tried to swim the strong currents, and my mind scrambled to find a way not to die as Lady stood on the bluff and barked for me to come back. I wanted to yell for help, but nothing came out. I was as mute as Elizabeth. I floated in the waves and it wasn’t long before I grew so numb and tired from the cold that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I had no energy left; my will to survive was gone, and slowly I began my descent into the watery grave that would keep me evermore.

  I opened my eyes, drained and exhausted, but my grave wasn’t dark and murky, like the bottom of the sea. I was back on shore, lying in the cool, wet sand; the water rushed up then retreated against my legs. I stared up at the brilliant stars in the night, but I was not alone. Momma stood over me, encircled in a soft glow, as beautiful as ever. Her eyes were no longer glazed and empty, and she even called me by my name.

  “Lillian, my darling,” she whispered, reaching for my hand. I lifted my heavy arm to touch her hand, but I could not take hold of it. She was as much of an apparition as Victor was. Maybe I was in heaven, I thought, though when I sat up and looked around, I could see the lighthouse.

  “I came to say goodbye,” Momma said in an angelic voice.

  “Where are you going, Momma?” I asked.

  “Goodbye, Lillian,” she said again, and then she vanished into the night sky.

  Shivering from the cold, I made my way back to the house. Daddy wasn’t passed out in the chair by the fire, so I went upstairs. He wasn’t in his bed. As soon as I could, I pulled off my soaked dress and put on my bed clothes, then climbed into bed. I was confused, disturbed, and wished the entire day to go away in a dream. I closed my eyes and prayed that when I woke in the morning I would have things back as they were. Momma would be home and sane, Daddy would be happy, and Heath and Ayden would be waiting for me to go to school. I could have never wished for anything more, and as I began to sleep, I thought it was possible. But when I was shaken out of my sleep, I knew all too well that the merciless reality was never going to let go.

  “Wake up, Lillian. You must get dressed,” Daddy insisted. It was still dark.

  “Why, Daddy?”

  “Just do as I say,” he said, and he took a dress out of the closet. I couldn’t smell any rum on his breath.

  When I didn’t move fast enough, he came to help me dress. I began to fill with alarm. Did he know what I had done; did he know I’d tried to kill myself? Was he going to take me away to the asylum to be with Momma?

  When he got close enough to lift my gown over my head, I realized he had been crying. His eyes that refused to meet mine were red and swollen.

  “We have to hurry.”

  When I had my dress on, he ushered me down the stairs. It was then that I noticed he wasn’t wearing his light keeper’s uniform. He wore a dress shirt with a gray double-breasted vest, matching trousers, and a black slouch hat. I had never seen him in anything but his uniform. He appeared different, almost ordinary.

  Daddy whisked me out into the night and into a row boat. I asked him several times where we were going and why, but he tried to stay focused, and didn’t divulge the information until we landed on the mainland. There, after we were seated in the stagecoach, Daddy took hold of my hand, and with tears streaming down his pale, brokenhearted face, said, “Momma has gone to be with God. She is finally at peace.”

  Momma was dead? My vision was true, and she was a ghost. Had she really come to say goodbye to me before she made her way to heaven? Daddy brought me close to his side as I cried. It was dark and cold and I didn’t know where we were going. All I could think of was that Momma was truly gone forever. She would never recover; she would never return to Jasper Island. She came one last time, and that was to see me. For that, I was grateful.

  The stagecoach ride went half the night until we reached a small railroad town. Daddy got a room for the rest of the night and said we had to get up in a few hours. “We have a long trip ahead of us, Lillian. Get as much rest as you can,” Daddy said just before he blew out the lamp.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, Lillian.”

  “We are going to be okay, aren’t we?” I asked.

  Daddy didn’t answer.

  _______________

  Chapter Thirteen

  My eyes opened at the crack of dawn to an unfamiliar, stale, musty room and noises from the street that reminded me nothing of a lighthouse station. At first, I couldn’t recall the events that brought me from Jasper Island, and then, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I remembered. Daddy had taken me away to tell me Momma was dead. We were in a strange town, preparing to board a train, but I didn’t know where to.

  I assumed we were traveling to Indiana, to the a
sylum where Momma had died. It wasn’t until Daddy and I arrived at the station ticket booth that I discovered we weren’t going to Indianapolis at all.

  After our tickets were purchased, we didn’t have to wait long before the great black steam train made its way down the track and stopped. People were scattered everywhere, some waiting to board, others disembarking. It seemed like chaos to me. So much noise—and everyone was in such a hurry. Daddy had only one bag for me and carried it on after he handed the conductor our boarding tickets. I followed Daddy until we found two seats that appealed to him. After we were seated and the loud whistle had blown, indicating it was time to depart, I turned to Daddy and asked why we were traveling all the way to Savannah.

  Daddy took a long breath then looked out the window to watch the station pass by. He struggled with his answer; it was almost too painful for him to say. Finally, he cleared his throat, and said, “That’s where Momma is buried.”

  We were going to Momma and Daddy’s home town, the place they had left long ago and to which they’d wanted never to return. I couldn’t imagine why Daddy wanted to lay her to rest in Georgia and not in Maine, close to us, near the lighthouse. I asked him, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he closed his cried-out eyes, placed his hat over his face, leaned back, and went to sleep. I hadn’t noticed the passengers in our car until Daddy was asleep. There were old men and women, all dressed up in what looked like their Sunday best—straight faced, expressionless. I was not used to these kinds of people. I only knew fisherman, sailors, and lighthouse keepers. Of course, there was Miss Weatherbee. That made me wonder what everyone thought when I wasn’t there to climb into the rowboat with Heath and Ayden for school. I hadn’t missed one day of school. The only time I couldn’t go was when the weather wouldn’t permit Heath to row us over to the mainland. Yesterday, I would have never thought I would, the very next day, be on a train for the first time in my life, traveling south to bury my beloved Momma. It had been in my mind that my life was over, that my body would be on the bottom of the sea. Everything changed overnight; the life that I wanted to end had remained, turned upside down. I was willing to accept it; I had to believe it wasn’t my time to go and that Momma had saved me. Maybe she put herself in my place.

  For years, I had wanted to travel, but I didn’t want the first time to be attending a funeral for my mother. I always expected to board a great ship and sail over the Atlantic and land in England. I would have never believed my first journey would be on steam train heading to the wounded deep South of America. I wasn’t looking forward to it. I wasn’t happy about any of it—not burying Momma, and not going to the horrible South that was full of Confederates. Though Daddy had been one, I was sure he regretted it, and believed if he could do it all over again, he would have joined the Union Navy. Maybe he was forced to serve for the Confederates; maybe his family insisted. I knew nothing about why Daddy had fought in the Civil War, just that he had, and he never, ever wanted to talk about it.

  Daddy woke when he was hungry. He led me out the door and crossed the platform into the dining car. Daddy got each of us a cheese sandwich and milk and allowed me to sit by the window while we ate our small lunch. The landscape hadn’t changed much at all in the hours the train moved along the miles of track. I had never been anywhere but on an island or in a small village on the coast of Maine. I wasn’t sure what to expect as we passed from one state to another. I thought maybe there would be more interesting people, grand mansions, and beautiful scenery to look out at along the way. It was nothing but ordinary—tall pine trees and maples with only a hint of newly emerging buds covering hills and snow-topped mountains—until we reached the most southern states. Then I noticed the abundance of greenery and the wildflowers along the tracks.

  The temperature in the car rose at least fifteen degrees; it became stuffy and uncomfortable. I was used to cold nights and didn’t adapt well to the extreme heat as we were tossed about in our berth. I began to grow sick. My face was hot, my cheeks flushed, and I felt as though I was about to pass out. One nice woman, who must have been near Opal’s age, boarded in Richmond, walked up the narrow aisle to Daddy, and tapped him on the shoulder. He was sleeping again, but he woke immediately.

  “Sir, your young daughter doesn’t look very well,” she said.

  Daddy sat up straight and came to his senses. He looked closely at me. I was slumped over, and he lifted me up and leaned me against his arm.

  “She is just a little sleep deprived is all, but thank you for bringing it to my attention,” Daddy said.

  “Please take my handkerchief to wipe her brow with,” she said, reaching out to pat my head, then going back to her seat. Daddy did as she suggested, then told me to try and relax. “We’ll be there in only an hour.”

  I closed my eyes and dozed. The rattle of the windows and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach kept me from resting peacefully. I was grateful when the train came to an abrupt halt and we were finally allowed to get out of the stuffy car, but the fresh air was not much better. It was heavy and moist. It didn’t seem to affect Daddy as he hurried us to a carriage that took us to the cemetery where Momma was recently laid to rest.

  The breeze on the carriage ride helped move the air around, and I began to feel better. Though the ride was long and bumpy, I enjoyed taking in the new sights and smells. It was as if I were transported straight into summer. The sun blazed high in the southern sky and scorched the soil. Along the way, I noticed several plantations with abandoned colossal mansions set back from the road—many destroyed and burnt to the ground, the only remains six or seven chimneys standing tall and proud amongst the ruins.

  Daddy didn’t say anything until we reached the cemetery. Then he said, “This is the place. Let’s go say goodbye to Momma.”

  The grounds along the river were full of live oak trees, red cedar, and azaleas. It was the largest cemetery I had ever seen. We took the long walk to the north end until Daddy found the spot where Momma had been laid to rest. Daddy knelt on the fresh dirt, his hat in hand before her tombstone, and began to weep. I stayed back, twisting my hair around my finger, trying to contain my tears. His moment with Momma was private; everything around him disappeared, including me. Daddy was visibly lost without her; he was half the man he had been when she was near. I waited for him to call me over so I could pay my respects and give her a final goodbye. After we returned to Jasper Island I would not be able to see her grave again for many years, I thought. I wanted to make my farewell momentous; I needed Momma to know I would miss her, too. It wasn’t just Daddy who suffered over her death.

  When he eventually stepped aside, I made my way over. I was surprised that I held back my tears and was able to speak to her without sobbing uncontrollably.

  “I will miss everything about you,” I began. “I will miss your beautiful smile, your loving eyes. I will hear your angelic voice when the sun rises and sets each day. I will always remember how much you loved me. Even through your madness, I know you still loved me.”

  Daddy came over and placed his warm hand on my shoulder then I turned and fell into his arms. We cried together for the first time, and for the last time. I clung to Daddy, and he held me tight, sobbing, and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  I lifted my head from his chest and looked up at him, not understanding what he would be sorry for. After all, it wasn’t his fault that Momma had died.

  He was staring ahead, and I turned to see what had caught his attention. An aristocratic, aged woman wearing a black crepe dress and black gloves, holding a cane, stood a few feet away from Momma’s grave. She was tall and regal, her hair silvery gray, with matching eyes as cold as stone. In the distance was her carriage and a Negro man—her driver. Daddy stood tall and sucked in his breath, then turned me around, placed my hand in his, then approached the woman. She stood like a statue with no emotion as Daddy formally introduced me. My mind scrambled to figure out who the woman was, why she was at the cemetery, and how Daddy knew her. Their eyes locked a
nd held for a moment. I could see they had no fondness for one another.

  “Eugenia, this is Lillian.”

  Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave me a brief look then said to Daddy in a cool, unaffected way, “She looks normal.”

  Daddy took immediate offense and snapped, “Of course she is normal.”

  “This is only temporary, you understand?” She had an accent, but it wasn’t like the others in the South. She spoke like many of the English sailors Daddy had rescued over the years at Rock Ledge Island.

  Daddy nodded to her, and she hastily took hold of my arm. I went to pull away, suddenly afraid of her, but Daddy nudged me forward, and without meeting my eyes said, “You will be staying with your grandmother for a while, Lillian.”

  In confusion and fear, I pulled away.

  Daddy came to me, fell to his knees, and made me look at him. “I love you with all my heart; you must believe me,” he said with great earnestness.

  I frantically tried to read him; I wanted to know how he could abandon me and leave me with a complete stranger, a grandmother I didn’t even know existed. He began to explain why he needed to leave me behind in an unfamiliar place.

  “I have been reassigned to another station, a place more desolate than Rock Ledge Island. It’s no place for you, Lillian. You need a relative to look after you; I just can’t do that right now. ” Daddy pleaded for me to understand, to accept his helplessness, and do as he asked without putting up a fight.

  “I want to stay with you, Daddy. I can help you at any station, you know that!”

  “Not now. Give me a few months,” he said, then took hold of my hands. “I promise I will come back for you.”

  “Enough of this,” the grandmother spat, pulling me away from Daddy. “You must leave now. You’re making matters worse!”

  Daddy stood to go, then placed a quick kiss on my cheek. I reached for him, but he walked away, and I was held back from running after him.