by V. J. Banis
Helen and then Walter soon joined them in the living room. The children thanked Helen somewhat soberly and Walter with many squeals and hugs. When Walter was finally disentangled and the laughter had somewhat died down, he went to where Jennifer was standing and put an arm affectionately around her.
“Now I have another present for you, children,” he said, beaming. “A new mother. Miss Jennifer and I have decided we will be married.”
As Jennifer had expected, the children were somewhat stunned by the announcement. Mary and Peter looked, she thought, more pleased than not, and she felt that when they had time to reflect upon it, they would take it well. She was quite fond of the two youngsters and she knew they were attached to her as well.
It was Liza, however, about whom she was concerned, and she saw at a glance that Liza was not taking it well. Her eyes had gone wide with shock and she turned them briefly upon Jennifer with a look of incredulity.
“It isn’t true,” she cried, running to Walter and flinging her arms about him. “Tell me it isn’t true, you’re only teasing.” She began to sob.
Walter was taken aback by this outburst. For a moment he held her and patted her comfortingly, but when the crying and the protest continued, he suddenly took firm hold of her and held her at arm’s length.
“Stop it. Stop it, I say. It is true. We are going to be married and you should be pleased for us. I think you owe Jennifer an apology for your rude outburst.”
“Walter,” Jennifer began, meaning to protest, but Liza ended the scene herself, at least for the moment. She twisted free of his grasp and before he could stop her, she ran from the room. They heard her footsteps clattering along the hall and up the stairs.
He moved as if he would go after her, but Jennifer laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Let her go,” she said. “She needs a good cry and to be by herself for a while. Later, when she’s calmer, you can discuss it with her.”
He hesitated for a moment more, obviously angry and embarrassed, but he relented with a wan smile.
“She’ll get used to the idea,” he said.
Jennifer was not so sure of that, but at the moment her thoughts were of the other two children, Walter’s own children, who stared wide-eyed in reaction to Liza’s outburst. She did not want Liza’s dismay to affect their reaction to the news.
“I’m sure she will. And in the meantime, let us not permit everyone’s Christmas to be spoiled. Why, Mary, you haven’t even opened that book. And, Peter, I don’t believe I have seen you play with that new top.”
At her prompting the children went back to their toys and were soon engrossed in them. Liza was allowed to remain in her room throughout the morning. Jennifer’s heart went out to her, on this morning especially, which ought to be a joyous one. How difficult it was to be in that stage between childhood and womanhood. A few years younger or older, and things would have gone so differently.
Bess had gone out of her way to prepare an especially festive Christmas spread. Later guests would drop by for a cup of punch, but dinner was reserved for the family and Martin and Susan, who came at midmorning to spend the day. They sang carols in the lavishly decorated front parlor. Jennifer played the piano and led the singing, and even Walter seemed to forget the day’s bad start and join in the mood of merriment.
Later, when it was time to dress for dinner, Jennifer thought she would look in on Liza. Perhaps the two of them alone could talk more frankly. She had realized something for the first time this morning. Watching Liza’s outburst, she had discovered that the girl’s feelings were something more than a childish attachment. She had clung to Walter with a genuine passion and she had sobbed with all the despair of a heartbroken lover. She was sure that, in her girlish way, Liza was in love with Walter, not as a daughter loved a father, but as a woman, however young yet, loved a man.
She could never tell Walter this. She was sure that he saw Liza only as a child and looked upon Liza’s attachment to him as a sort of father substitution.
Jennifer thought that if Liza could be made to understand that each of them had her place in Walter’s feelings then perhaps she could accept his marriage with more equanimity. She must speak to her not as to a child, but as to a young woman and with complete honesty. And of course Walter need not know the full import of this “girl talk.”
It was easy to excuse herself from the parlor. Helen and Susan had retired to look in on things in the kitchen. The children were busy with their new playthings, and the men were having one of their frequent arguments over the future of farming.
Jennifer slipped quietly from the room.
The door to Liza’s room was closed. She hesitated, wondering if she should intrude on the girl’s privacy at this particular moment, but she knew she might not have an opportunity to speak openly in the near future. She tapped lightly on the door.
“Liza,” she called softly, “it’s Jennifer. May I come in?”
There was no reply, even when she knocked again, a bit more loudly. Thinking that maybe Liza was asleep, Jennifer opened the door a crack.
“Liza,” she called, but still there was no reply.
She went in, to find the room empty. Liza’s bed was disarranged, where she had apparently thrown herself across it when she ran upstairs, but of Liza there was no sign. Jennifer remembered how distraught she had been and had a feeling of uneasiness. Could Liza have done something rash, something to harm herself?
Surely not—and yet, people had been known to do great harm to themselves for passions not greater than Liza’s.
Thinking that perhaps Liza had just gone to another room, Jennifer began to go systematically but quickly from bedroom to bedroom, until she had covered the second floor and found Liza nowhere. On an impulse, she went up to the attic. She took her time, looking behind trunks and into big, old armoires that had probably come from France. It was not impossible, she reasoned, that Liza would hide from her.
Her search of the attic revealed nothing and at last, increasingly worried, she descended again to the parlor, where the men were still arguing the future of the farm worker.
“Excuse me,” Jennifer interrupted them, “I wonder if anyone has seen Liza?”
“Why, no,” Walter said. “I thought she was in her room. Isn’t she?”
“No.” The sound of her voice seemed to make him understand something of what she had been thinking. A frown darkened his handsome face.
“She’s probably in one of the other bedrooms,” he said. “I’ll go find her. It’s time I had a talk with her anyway.”
“I’ve already looked upstairs and in the attic. She seems to be missing.”
“Missing? I doubt she’d go far,” Walter said.
Jennifer knew that he had not gauged the depth of Liza’s feelings for him and so could not comprehend what a shock his announcement had been.
“Walter, I am worried about her,” she said. “I’m afraid she may have done something rash.”
“For instance?”
“For instance, she may have run away.”
“That’s preposterous. She’s just a child. She wouldn’t run away.”
“She did once before.”
He looked at her in disbelief, but she looked so concerned that he gave in. “We’ll look for her,” he said. “I feel sure she’s around the house somewhere though.”
Helen and Susan were summoned and they made a quick search of the house, with no results. They made a brief tour of the grounds as well.
“We may be making a mountain out of a molehill,” Susan said. “After all, Darkwater is quite large. There are a great many outbuildings and acres and acres of fields. Or she might have decided to go out for a stroll.”
Jennifer could see that the others, including Walter, leaned toward this view. She could not still her own fears, but she did not want to seem an alarmist either.
“It is possible,” she conceded. “But surely then we can assume she will return for dinner, can’t we?”
“You can
bet on that,” Walter said, smiling. “She loves to eat. Wait and see, just before dinner time she’ll come strolling in from somewhere, surprised that we were worried and completely recovered from her little tantrum.”
As the time passed, however, Jennifer could see that each of the others was beginning to wonder. Finally it was time for dinner and Bess rang the great old bell outside the kitchen door. Its peals echoed over the dark waters of the bayou, but they did not bring Liza running for the house.
“Perhaps you’ve been right,” Walter said to Jennifer, his face more somber now. “Get the help and let’s make a real search of the outbuildings, the grounds, even the house again, just in case she has been hiding.”
Dinner was forgotten in the flurry of activity that followed, but even the thorough search of the house and grounds revealed no trace of Liza. It was no longer possible to pretend that she had not gone away.
“Want me to have the men start searching the bayou?” Martin asked.
Walter was thoughtful for a moment. “No, I have another idea,” he said. “If Liza has left here, there’s only one other place she could have gone.”
“Where’s that?” Martin asked.
But Jennifer already knew. “She’s gone back to Mrs. Hodges.”
“The swamp witch?” Helen said, unbelieving.
“She was living there before, when I found her. It’s the only other place she knows around here,” Walter said. “When she thought this was no longer home for her, she must have thought that was her real home.”
A cool rain had begun to fall and he dressed to go out in it. The other men did not offer to accompany him. It was as if they knew this was a personal journey, not to be shared with outsiders.
Jennifer thought of the cruel, old woman in the swamp, and she thought of Liza with her, subjected to the woman’s violent temper.
“I’m going with you,” she said suddenly, running after Walter.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In the heavy rain the darkness of the swamp was intensified. It might almost have been night as they hurried along the path.
Walter led the way, cautioning her to stay close. He walked fast, once or twice consciously slowing his stride when she began to fall behind. Even so she had to rush to keep pace with him.
They reached the fork in the path and went to the right. As if it were an omen, the rain stopped suddenly, and the gloom seemed to lighten perceptibly.
“Where does that other path lead?” Jennifer asked breathlessly.
“Back to Darkwater,” Walter said without even turning his head. “This path takes us directly to Mrs. Hodges’ shack.”
“But when I came here before, Liza told me the path to the right would bring me back to Darkwater.”
“You must have gotten it confused.”
She was too short of breath to argue the point, but she was certain she had gotten it correct. Only, how could Liza, have gotten them confused? Unless she had wanted Jennifer to meet Mrs. Hodges. Unless...but no, Liza could surely not have wished her to be harmed. Or could she?
She had looked upon Liza as a child, an innocent. They all looked upon her that way. Yet, Jennifer had seen things – a look of malice in Liza’s eyes from time to time, a wariness, a violent streak. Small things, but did they add up to a darkness of nature that no one had suspected as yet?
That was not entirely true, either. Alicia had suspected something. And Alicia was dead.
They arrived just then at the clearing where Jennifer had earlier encountered Mrs. Hodges, and Walter stopped so abruptly that Jennifer, following close behind, ran into him.
They had again come upon Mrs. Hodges in the clearing. The old crone stood directly in their path, just a few feet ahead of them. Walter wasted no time in coming to the point.
“We’ve come for the girl,” he said. “Where is she?”
Jennifer ‘s fear turned to puzzlement when Mrs. Hodges smiled, sweetly and innocently.
“She’s at my place,” she said.
For all the sweetness of her smile, Jennifer thought it was enigmatic, too, as if she were pulling off some really outstanding stunt.
Walter must have thought the same thing. “No tricks, now. We mean to take her home to Darkwater.”
“Darkwater?” She chuckled softly. “Her home, is it now? My, my, we move up in the world, don’t we?”
“It is her home, and I’m taking her back to it. Don’t try to interfere.”
“Why of course she can go with you.” Mrs. Hodges showed a toothy grin. “Supposin’ she wants to. Maybe she likes it better here with her dear momma.” She let loose a cackle of laughter that set Jennifer’s teeth on edge.
The crone was still laughing and watching them with an expression of amusement, but she made no move to stop them when they went by her.
“Do you suppose she’s up to some trick?” Jennifer asked. She glanced back, but Mrs. Hodges had not moved.
“She gives that impression, doesn’t she? We’ll soon know. If she’s harmed Liza....” Jennifer could sense his fury. Again she wondered about the true nature of the relationship between man and child.
They came around a bend and Jennifer gasped. Directly in front of the path, a ramshackle house sat in a clearing, surrounded by a dilapidated fence. The yard was unkempt, the house itself unpainted. A pig wallowed in a pool of muddy water just inches from the crooked steps that led into the house. The front door was a screen, torn in many places and standing open at the moment. One of the windows was broken, only a few jagged spears of glass still clinging to the frame.
It was not the house, however sordid it was, that had made Jennifer gasp. It was the sight of Mrs. Hodges standing just inside the gate, awaiting their arrival.
“How did you get here so fast?” Walter demanded.
She chuckled again. “I have my ways, boyo, I have my ways.”
It was difficult to imagine, Jennifer thought, that such an old woman could have come through the thick tangle of brush that surrounded the house and gotten here before them. No doubt there was a shortcut of some sort, but it was certainly well concealed.
“We still want the girl,” Walter said.
“Why, of course,” Mrs. Hodges said. She tilted her head and called, in a sing-song voice, “Liza, come out. We’ve got company, child.”
Jennifer wondered how anyone accustomed to the comfort of Darkwater could come voluntarily to live in this filth and decay.
Mrs. Hodges called again, more firmly, “Liza, come out now. There’s nothing to be ascared of.”
Liza appeared in the doorway. She did not look surprised to see them. But of course, Jennifer thought, she must have known that Walter would come for her.
“We’ve come to take you home,” Walter said.
“Yes, I know,” Liza replied.
To Jennifer’s surprise, Liza smiled and came demurely down the broken steps. It was difficult to believe this was the same child who had earlier thrown such a violent tantrum. Jennifer had expected some sort of sullen resistance, at the least, and perhaps more tears.
Liza came directly to Walter. “I’m sorry for this morning.”
“I think you owe the apology to Jennifer,” he said.
Jennifer was certain Liza would balk at this, but she turned to Jennifer as humbly as anyone could ask and said, “I do apologize.”
Jennifer was so surprised she could only stammer, “And I accept your apology.”
Then, to further confound her, Liza burst into a smile and said, “I’m so glad you’re going to be married. I know you’ll make Walter very happy.”
Behind them, Mrs. Hodges chuckled softly.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Helen often puzzled over the change in Liza. The wedding drew nearer, and Helen expected Liza to revert to her old resentment, but she remained a changed girl. She was astonishingly docile and good-natured. She even had a certain enthusiasm for the wedding and from time to time took part in the planning, encouraged by Jennifer.
That t
he two of them had become friends of some sort was obvious, for they were almost always together now.
To be sure, there were occasions when the old Liza re-emerged, although Helen thought that she saw more of that than the others. And sometimes Liza would disappear for hours. Usually this happened when Jennifer was not around, so Helen couldn’t say Liza was avoiding Jennifer.
Jennifer, however, was more and more tied up as the wedding arrangements progressed. Often she had to go into town. Twice she and Helen traveled to New Orleans, which kept them away for several days each time. When she was at home, Jennifer was busy designing and making her own gown, preparing guest lists, and a hundred other details.
Now that she was to be Walter’s bride and not an employee, she had to “meet” the local people officially, which meant that she was often out calling.
On these occasions when Jennifer was out, Liza seemed to disappear. Once Helen saw her going into the swamp and another time emerging along the swamp path, but she could get no information from Liza.
“Where have you been all afternoon?” she asked.
“Nowhere.”
And again, “Do you see Mrs. Hodges when you’re in the swamp?”
“I never go into the swamp.”
“But I saw you returning, just today.”
“No. I never go into the swamp.” This was said with such calm certainty that Helen almost conceded she had been mistaken—but later, when she thought about it, she knew she had seen Liza coming out of the swamp.
Liza had lied to her. It worried her and she thought vaguely she ought to do something, but she did not know quite what. She had an uneasy feeling that if she punished Liza, Walter would take Liza’s part. And if she went to Walter with her suspicions? She thought of Alicia, always telling Walter the bad things Liza was doing. Would she sound like Alicia, at least to Walter?
In the end, she did nothing, but the uneasiness remained. She wondered if Liza had really changed. The girl was cunning. Could she be up to something?
But what?
* * * * * * *
