The Daughters of Julian Dane

by Lucile McCluskey

  “Oh, Addie, please! Let’s try to forget all this until we go see Brother Morris tomorrow,” Della pleaded as she arose from the table.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Addie said, as she realized just how upsetting this had all been for her mother, and her not feeling well. But somehow, it had changed her feelings for this person who lived within her. Although she still felt threatened by her presence, she no longer felt hostile toward her. She was sorry for her – sorry that she had died such a tragic death, and so young, and that she had not found peace in death.

  What kept her here? Addie wondered as she ate her sandwich. And her father – their father, Julian Dane, the red hared man that Brother Morris had seen – it had to be his spirit - why was he still here?

  The truck! It was the sound of her daddy’s truck driving into the graveled driveway between the house and the garage. Della was standing at the sink, her back to Addie. If she had any doubts that it was her daddy, they were dispelled when Della ran her hands through her almost dry hair, shaking it out. She never liked Ben to see her looking anything but her best.

  She bit her bottom lip as tears of happiness and relief sprang to her eyes. Della walked over and put a hand on her shoulder when she saw her tear filled eyes. “He may just want some clothes, honey. Let’s wait and see.”

  “Oh, Mama, make everything all right again, please,” Addie begged, and wanted to add, ‘help me get rid of some of the guilty feelings’, but she just hugged her mother as the sound of the truck door closing reached them. She got up from the table, carrying half of her sandwich with her, and stepped to the kitchen door. She opened it just as her daddy was hurriedly approaching the steps to the screened-in porch.

  “Hello, Princess,” he said as he came through the door. He hugged her with one arm and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. “Are you all right?”

  Addie could see the top of a spring bouquet of flowers over his shoulder and the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “I’m okay, Daddy,” she whispered, stepping back so he could go through the kitchen door to where her mother waited. Now would be a good time for her to make herself scarce, she figured. If things could be made right between her parents again, it could be accomplished better in privacy.

  Ben, feeling more miserable that he had ever felt in his entire life, stepped inside the kitchen door where Della stood beside their small table. Her lips were pressed firmly together to hold back the tears that filled her violet blue eyes. He stood for a moment just drinking in the beauty of the woman he loved. “I’ve been a stupid fool, Del, and I’m ashamed of myself. I don’t know if you want to forgive me, but I want you to know I’m the luckiest man in the whole world to have you for a wife and Addie for a daughter. And I brought you these just to say I love you,” he said meekly handing her the flowers he had kept behind him until that moment.

  Della took the bouquet, held them to her breast, her head bowed as tears dropped onto the yellow petal of a tulip. She swallowed hard and whispered, “You couldn’t do anything, Ben Martin, that I wouldn’t forgive you for.”

  Gently, Ben took the flowers and laid them on the table. Then his big hands went around Della’s small waist, lifting her inches off the floor and burying his face in the curve of her neck. Hugging her tight to him, he asked, “What did I ever do to deserve you and Addie? And I want you to know that I don’t care what happened, or how it happened, I’m just glad you’re both mine.”

  Della knew he was very close to tears himself. He held her in the embrace for several moments, then let her body slide down his until her feet were on the floor again. His mouth sought hers, kissing her lips, her face, her eyes, her neck until she could feel the desire mounting in him.

  Finally, he muttered, “I’d like nothing better than to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, but my back wouldn’t like it. And I do need a shower.”

  “The bath is this way,” she whispered in his ear, giggling. She took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom door, and left him while she went to the bedroom to get his robe.

  He was in the shower when she returned. “I worked most of the night at the furniture store and caught a few hours sleep on a stack of mattresses. I should be through in a couple of weeks. Get me a towel, please,” he called above the noise of the shower.

  “It’s waiting,” she said, but when he slid back the shower curtain, she let the towel drop to the floor as he stepped over the side of the tub. The sight of his erection caused a delicious shiver from her head to her toes. She quickly untied the sash to her robe and let it slide off her shoulders and to the floor. “If you hadn’t shown up soon, I’d have come looking for you,” she whispered.

  Ben moaned at the sight of her nakedness. Both hands reaching to cup the full taut breasts. His head bent to kiss each one on its rosy tip, then he lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the vanity. “Addie?” he questioned.

  “She went out on her bike,” she answered, her breath coming in short, deep quivers of anticipation.

  Addie came through the back door just as she heard her parents’ bedroom door close softly. She had to come back, it was about to come a sudden downpour. Besides, she couldn’t stand the anxiety any longer. She smiled happily at the bouquet of flowers lying on the table, and picked them up carefully, and put them in a vase of water, and sat them in the center of the table. All was well again, she was sure, and suddenly she felt like an afternoon nap. She was sure her parents would be taking one.

  She deliberately closed her bedroom door with a bang so they would know she was safe at home when the rain came. By the time she was drifting off to sleep, it was pounding the windows.

  Vicki had begun to hate the rain. She didn’t like the sound it made on the tin roof. She would be glad when they moved into their new house. Yet, for once, she was grateful for the noise the rain made. It helped muffle the sound of her mother’s screams from the closed bedroom door. Surely, father would return soon with the doctor. He had been gone so long, and it was getting dark.

  “It’s coming! It’s coming! Help me, Willy! Help me!” her mother screamed. “For God’s sake, help me!”

  Vicki couldn’t stand it any longer. She crept to the bedroom door and slowly opened it just enough to see in. She could only see the tall footboard of the bed her mother and father slept in. It was too high. She could not see what was going on with her mother who lay in the bed screaming, “Help me, Willy! Please help me! Don’t let me die! My babies need me,” her mother whimpered.

  Aunt Willy just stood beside the bed looking down.

  “I know you want Julian,” her mother pleaded weakly, “but, Willy, there’s something you don’t know. Please help me,” her mother’s voice trailed off.

  “Mother!”

  Aunt Willy had heard her desperate, frightened cry and quickly rushed to the door, closed it and turned the key.

  “Mother! Mother!” Vicki cried leaning against the closed door.

  “Princess! Princess!” Ben called as he shook her. “Wake up, honey. You’re having a bad dream.”

  Addie opened her eyes, but she had difficulty focusing on her daddy’s face for a few moments, or even knowing exactly where she was, or who she was. She felt as though she had just returned from a far away place – from Vicki’s world back to her own.

  Slowly, she began to realize that what she had just experienced wasn’t a dream. It was too real. It was as though she had been there, as though it was happening to her. And she realized that while she slept, Vicki had taken over her mind.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Up and at ’em,” Ben said swatting Addie on her bottom, as she struggled back to reality. “We’re going to have some of mama’s good beef stew and cornbread, and go to church.”

  Addie raised up and put her arms around Ben’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re home, Daddy,” she said as the delicious odor of her mother’s cornbread baking in the oven drifted through her open bedroom door. And she realized she was near famished.

 
“I am too, Princess, and thank you for giving your mother and me time to be alone.”

  “I know when to make myself scarce,” she said smiling at him lovingly.

  “You’re a very mature young lady, and very wise, wiser than your old man. Princess,” he said somberly, “sometimes adults do the stupidest things. They say things and do things they don’t really mean at all, and the awful part is, they do it to the very people they love the most.”

  “Well, I guess even adults aren’t perfect,” she said, and they both laughed, although Addie didn’t feel much like laughing. Vicki’s feeling of fear and anguish still hung over her like a dark cloud of doom.

  Ben went back to the kitchen to help Della with their supper, and Addie went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. It had been so real, she thought. She had no doubt at all that the scene had happened as she had seen it – had experienced it. It was at the log house, and it was the same door she had seen when she had gone to the restaurant with Donnie.

  It would not leave her mind as she dressed for church. She wanted to tell her mother, but she was sure it would put Miss Willy in a bad light again, and her mother wouldn’t like that. Perhaps she could talk to Donnie about it, if they had some time together again. She recalled the way his aunt had looked at her.

  She certainly didn’t want to cause him any trouble with his aunt. He was the best thing that had happened to her, besides her daddy coming home again, and the closest thing she had to a good friend. Still, if their relationship caused him any problems, then she would rather end it. He had enough to contend with. She sure hoped his mother got well and could walk again. She reminded herself to pray for them when she got to church.

  She was glad her mother had not questioned her about leaving Sunday School that morning. She didn’t want to have to tell her about the treatment that Evelyn Ann and the other girls had given her. She was relieved that she would not be seeing them tonight. They only attended night services when there was a special program.

  She hurried to the kitchen table where Della had a steaming bowl of stew and a crusty wedge of cornbread already waiting for her with a tall glass of cold buttermilk.

  She ate heartily, as her mind kept skipping from the foreboding thoughts of Vicki, which she wanted so badly to shake off, to the way the girls at the church sometimes treated her. She had tried to make friends with them even as far back as grade school, but it had never happened. They had a way of making her feel that she wasn’t as good as they were – not up to their standard of living. She knew she didn’t dress as well as they did, didn’t have new outfits every few weeks, but in her mind that shouldn’t matter. They should accept her for who she was as a person, not the clothes she wore, or didn’t wear. And she couldn’t help but wonder if the adults treated her mother and daddy the same way. Surely not, otherwise, they would go to some other church. Maybe the other kids knew she was different without knowing why.

  Later, when they just happened to enter the church sanctuary at the same time that Brother Morris did, he bid them welcome and expressed his delight in seeing that her mother was feeling better. When they took their seats, Addie thought how good it was to be sitting beside her mother instead of looking at her as she sat in the choir, and she moved a little closer. Della smiled at her, and hugged her as she helped her off with her jacket.

  Addie’s mind wandered back to Vicki in spite of her efforts to keep the child out of her thoughts. She wondered if Vicki had gone to church with her parents, and thought how much she must have missed her mother when she died – and her so young. Addie felt such sympathy for her.

  She fumbled in her pocket until she had the rumpled photograph out. She placed it in the hymn book as she sang so that she might look at it out of sight of her mother. She knew that it troubled her mother. Odd, she thought, she could think of Vicki as a sister, a sister she had never known except in her mind, but she could not think of Julian Dane as her father. Donnie was right. Ben was her father, the one who had loved her and cared for her. She looked over at him and caught his eye. He winked at her, and she winked back, smiling broadly.

  She loved these two. They were her whole world, and she didn’t want to ever cause them any unhappiness again. But this thing with Vicki – she had no control over it. Vicki seemed to be the one in control – unless she could remember. No. It was more like something the little girl wanted her to know, or to do. Was that it? Was it something she needed her to do? She felt a tug at her sleeve, and saw that the congregation was standing for the reading of the Bible. Quickly, she stood up.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, withdrawing the picture from the hymnal as she closed it.

  At home again, Addie was ready for bed promptly at ten o’clock, as was her routine, but she found she was reluctant to even get into her bed, almost afraid to go to sleep again ever. Her sleeping mind seemed to be too vulnerable to Vicki. She didn’t want anymore experiences like she had had in her afternoon nap. It was too upsetting, too much of a strain on her emotionally.

  She sat at her desk going over her lessons again. She found meaningless things to attend to, clothes to rearrange in her closet, drawers to straighten. Finally, at eleven-thirty, she told herself that she was being foolish. She had to get up at six-thirty. She couldn’t spend the rest of the night being afraid to go to sleep, afraid of loosing her life to Vicki. Something had to be done. She wanted a life of her own – a life where she was in control. She wanted to be just Addie Martin. But she knew she would never be as long as Vicki Dane needed her. She was sure of that, and she was tired of trying to figure out what she needed from her. She was fed up with all the trouble she had caused in her life and in her parents’ lives.

  As she stood in front of her dresser looking down at the photograph that lay on it, she asked, “Why, Vicki? Why wouldn’t your spirit go where it was supposed to when you died? Why did Julian Dane have to have another daughter for your spirit to live in? And for how long? Are you ever going to leave me? Do you know you’re making my life impossible because I never know what to expect from you? That puts you in control to do what you want, when you want. I can’t live this way anymore!” She said in desperation. “So, Vicki, I’m releasing my mind – our mind, our memory, our body to you to do what you need to do with it, and I just hope and pray that when you’re through – when you’ve accomplished whatever it is you have to do, that you’ll release me to be just me – Addie Martin.”

  Addie looked up at her image in the dresser mirror and thought how strangely drained she felt, and she wondered, have I just given away my life?

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was a strange sleep that Addie was experiencing – a sort of half sleep – as though her body was asleep while her mind was still wandering. She was chilled from the cool March air that drifted in through the open window, and she wanted her blanket. But she was unable to arouse herself enough to reach to the foot of the bed and pull it up. Then she drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.

  The bedrooms were already warm in the house on South Street even though it was just past six-thirty in the morning. Miss Gussie had already lowered the shades on the east windows to block out the morning sun.

  Ten year old Vicki was aware of the warmth of her room as she stood before her closet door trying to decide what to wear. It was going to be another one of those hot, dry days that Miss Gussie called ‘dog days’ – these last days of August. It hadn’t rained in ever so long, and this first week of school had been most uncomfortable in the big, red brick school building. She was glad it was Friday. Father had said rain was expected for the weekend and that would make it cooler. She sure hoped so. By lunch each day her clothes were sticking to her. But what could she wear that might keep her a little more comfortable?

  She longed for her mother, as she did many times each day. Mother would know which was the coolest dress to wear. It had been almost three and a half years now since she had accepted her mother’s decision in everything, including what to wear each day, ne
ver realizing that she would not always be there to make those decisions for her. Would the hurt ever go away? Would the terrible emptiness ever be filled? No. Vicki thought not. No one could ever take her mother’s place – not father – not even her baby brother, Nickelos, even though she loved him more than anything else in the whole world.

  After all, mother, as she lay dying, had placed that tiny newborn in her arms to care for, and to love as she would have. No. Not even Nicki could fill the emptiness left by her mother’s death.

  She must decide what to wear. Nicki would be waiting for her. She finally chose a sheer white dress and quickly put it on. As she was tying the sash in the back, she could hear Nicki’s cooing and babbling through the adjoining door between their rooms. She smiled. He would be freshly bathed and lying on a big towel beside his crib for Miss Gussie to put on a fresh diaper. He loved his early morning baths at the loving hands of Miss Gussie.

  As soon as she was ready for school, Vicki opened the door. Miss Gussie was just getting up from her kneeling position to diaper Nicki, and already he was struggling to pull himself to a standing position by the rungs of his crib. She had worked hard all summer trying to get him to stand alone.

  She stood quietly in the doorway watching and hoping - waiting to see how far he would get – to see if he would make it to a full standing position this time. And oddly enough, she would know when he had reached his limit – when his chubby little legs would buckle under him. But then, she seemed to always know everything about him. She waited breathlessly as he almost made it this time, but his legs didn’t quite straighten out. Still, it was as good as he had done so far, and it pleased her very much.