Suzy still sounded angry. “Prayer didn’t keep Jeb from being hit by a motorcycle. It didn’t stop Grandfather from having leukemia.”
“Prayer was never meant to be magic,” Mother said.
“Then why bother with it?” Suzy scowled.
“Because it’s an act of love,” Mother said.
Adam called again in the morning. Jeb was still unconscious, but his vital signs were stable. John’s boss, Dr. Nora Zand, was at the hospital and would stay all morning. Someone else would take over in the afternoon. Adam had been asked to remain at the station and care for the dolphins.
Suzy had answered the phone as usual and was relaying the information. Now she thrust the phone at me. “He wants to speak to you.”
Adam simply asked, “How’s your grandfather?”
I knew what he meant. “Daddy spoke to him last night. I’ll go in to him in a few minutes. He’s usually clearest in the morning.” And I trusted Adam to know what I meant. “How’s Ynid?”
“She’s not eating.”
“Oh, Adam—” If Ynid was not eating, that meant that Jeb was not all right.
“I’ll call again if there’s any news. Or send a message by John.”
We hung up and I went in to Grandfather. I thought he looked very pale. “Grandfather—”
He looked up from the Bible and lavished his smile on me.
“Adam’s boss, Jeb Nutteley, was hit by a motorcycle and he’s got a fractured skull and he’s unconscious.”
“Your father told me.” He rubbed his finger lightly over the open page of the Bible.
“Will you pray for him?”
Prayer. An act of love, Mother had said.
“Of course,” Grandfather replied.
“How do you pray for someone like that?”
Grandfather held out his open hand, palm up. “There are many different ways. I simply take him into my heart, and then put him into God’s hand.” Again he smiled. “That sounds like rather an athletic feat, doesn’t it? Nevertheless, it’s as close as I can come to telling you.”
For a moment I had a flash of understanding. “Thanks, Grandfather. That helps. I’ll come read to you after breakfast.”
In the kitchen Mother was opening the oven door. “Where’re the hot pads?”
Rob handed her one.
“Okay, breakfast,” John said brusquely. “I’ll bring out the butter.”
There was something comfortingly normal about sitting around the big white table. It was hard to realize that Jeb was lying unconscious in the hospital, instead of standing by the dolphin pens, throwing fish to Ynid. I closed my eyes and thought of Jeb and his gentle kindness, and then I imaged Ynid, and Una and Nini. They understood acts of love. They would know how to pray for Jeb.
“What’s the matter, Vicky?” Suzy asked.
I opened my eyes. “I think I was praying.”
“Do you have to look as though you’re dying?”
I didn’t answer back. I helped myself to a blueberry muffin. Rob pushed the butter toward me, asking, “What’re you doing today?”
“Read to Grandfather. Then nothing till this afternoon. I’m going flying with Zachary.” This was not the time to be telling Mother that Zachary was likely to be doing most of the flying. If I hadn’t told her after the first time Zachary was at the controls, I couldn’t very well tell her now. And there wasn’t anything to tell, really, with Art right there at the dual controls, able to correct anything Zachary might do wrong.
Suzy interrupted me. “Are you praying again?”
“Why are you so hipped on the subject?” I snapped back. “I was just thinking.”
When I went in to Grandfather the clarity his mind had had earlier was all muddied. He called me Caro, and he thought he was in Africa. “It’s time we sent Victoria away to school,” he urged. “She’s been having too much dysentery and I’m worried about her.”
“Grandfather,” I asked loudly, “do you want me to read to you?”
He moved his fingers restlessly over the sheets. “I can’t find the notes I made yesterday …”
I opened the book and started to read, hearing the words but having no idea of the content. I read for about five minutes and Grandfather’s hands quietened and his eyelids dropped.
I tiptoed out.
By the time Zachary came for me, I knew how Suzy felt about getting out of the house. I wanted to get away from Grandfather’s confusions. I wanted to get away from the two worry lines between Mother’s eyes. Mrs. Rodney had remarked on Grandfather’s pallor and called the hospital. They hoped the supply of blood would be replenished by Monday. Meanwhile, in an emergency we could always bring Grandfather in.
“Not yet,” Mother said. “Not unless we absolutely have to.”
“I agree.” Mrs. Rodney still had her hand on the phone. “Leo can go get blood first thing Monday morning.”
And I wanted to get away from Daddy, who had shut himself in the science stall. He’d received a bulky load of scientific tomes and was working hard on his book.
Mrs. Rodney went in to Grandfather to give him a haircut, “to boost morale.” Whose morale?
Rob was in the children’s bookstall, reading. He’d been slower to read than the rest of us, probably because he’s the youngest and had so many people to read to him. Even now it was difficult for me to understand that he was old enough to lose himself in a book all by himself. I looked to see what he was reading: The Secret Garden.
“I like it better when Mother reads it,” he said.
The phone rang. I stood frozen, listening. It might be news about Jeb. It might be the hospital saying they had blood for Grandfather.
“Vicky,” Mother called. “It’s Adam. Nothing new on Jeb’s condition.”
“Hi,” Adam said. “No news—except I wanted to tell you that I coaxed Ynid into eating a little.”
“That’s hopeful.” I was ready to cling to any straw.
“Yah, but I don’t want to count on it too much.”
“Ynid wouldn’t eat, if—” I held the phone between my ear and shoulder so my hands were free. Pulling the cord to its fullest length, I turned on the cold-water tap and poured myself a glass of water.
“What’re you doing this afternoon?” he asked.
“Going flying with Zachary.” I rinsed out my glass and put it on the drainboard.
“Oh. Yah. That will take your mind off things.”
“I’m not sure I want it taken off.”
Zachary’s horn tooted outdoors, and I heard Mrs. Rodney running out to shush him. “Zachary’s here.”
“Yah, I know you have to go. Maybe we can get together tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope. These things can string out. Adam—what do you think his chances are?”
“From what I can gather, about fifty-fifty.”
“Adam—things seem to keep piling up.”
“Things have a way of doing that. They usually unpile eventually. Let’s hold on to good thoughts about Ynid’s eating, and our getting together tomorrow.”
I hung up and went out to the porch. Mother said, “Have a good time.”
“Sure you don’t mind if I go?”
“Sure I’m sure.”
“If Adam calls—”
She gave me a little hug. “It won’t help Jeb for you to turn your back on a good time. Just take care, will you?”
“I will.” The thought of Zachary at the controls of the plane flickered against the corners of my mind. No. This was not the time to say anything about that to my mother.
I went out to Zachary, glancing at the swallows’ nest. The little swallows were still clinging in there. I had half expected to find them dead on the step.
Zachary was in high spirits. I told him about Jeb and he made polite noises. After all, he didn’t know Jeb.
“You’re looking better,” I said. “Not such dark circles under your eyes.”
“O-ho, so you notice what I look like.”
“I notice.”
�
��That’s one kindly thing in an unkind world. Maybe that’s why I’m baffled and fascinated by you Austins. Most people are predictable; they’re out for number one, and they don’t give a damn about anybody else, and if they have to step on you to get where they want, they don’t even notice you lying in a pool of blood—literal or figurative. It’s the only way to get on in the world. I’m not knocking it.”
I thought of Zachary’s father and all that money.
“So you intrigue me. Your father’s never going to get anywhere and you don’t even seem to care.”
“I think my father is somewhere.” I didn’t need to defend Daddy to Zachary. If I looked at Daddy, and then looked at Zachary’s father, that was obvious.
“He’s never going to make any money.”
Daddy’s salary at the hospital in New York was probably double what he’d make as an overworked general practitioner in Thornhill, but “you can be just as miserable with money as without it.”
“Yes, but you can be miserable a whole lot more comfortably. There’s that old woman again. This time I’m going to get her.”
“Zach!” I could not control my reflex of screaming, stiffening, and pressing both feet down on imaginary brakes.
“Idiot.” He laughed. “I didn’t come anywhere near her.”
And he really hadn’t, not anywhere near as last time. “Zachary, this kind of thing does not amuse me.”
“My, my, aren’t we pompous, though.”
“I mean it. If you do anything like that once more, I’ll never go out with you again. I’m serious.” My heart was still thudding. Probably whoever was on that motorcycle hadn’t meant to hit Jeb.
Zachary held the steering wheel lightly with his left hand, put his right hand over his heart. “No more trying to rid the world of obsolete old women. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. No more old women.”
He was so full of high spirits and so talkative on the launch between the Island and the mainland that Leo whispered to me, “Has he been drinking or something?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” He certainly didn’t smell of alcohol. “I think it’s just one of his manic days.”
Zachary turned toward us. “What?”
Leo pointed to the horizon. “That freighter, there, can you see it?”
“What about it?”
“It’s carrying a huge load of fireworks. I was wondering what it would look like if she blew up.”
“That’s a royal idea. Okay, skipper, ram ’er.”
Leo gave Zachary a pale look. “Fortunately, this tub couldn’t catch up with her.”
“Come on. You know you get a good bit of speed.”
“Not that much. The freighter’s nearly over the horizon. Anyhow, dying in a blaze of fireworks doesn’t appeal to me.”
“It does to me,” Zachary said.
Leo’s eyes lost even more color. “We have Vicky with us, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“How could I forget. Wouldn’t it make noble headlines: Young Lovers Go Up In A Blaze Of Glory.”
“Lovers?” Leo demanded.
“Only a figure of speech, despite all my efforts to make it more.”
We left Leo at the dock. “What time will you be back?”
“Oh, the usual,” Zachary said. “Around eleven.”
“Let’s make it ten, please,” I said. “I’d like to get home early …”
“Anything you say, princess. Ten, then, Leo.”
“Right.” He was still angry and his eyes hadn’t regained their color. He disappeared into Cor’s shack.
Zachary helped me into the Alfa Romeo with a flourish. “Off we go, into the wild blue yonder.”
At first he drove moderately. Then, suddenly, he swerved to the left. “Let’s pretend we’re British.”
“Zachary, please.”
“You’re absurdly easy to frighten.” He continued driving on the left, even when we saw a car coming toward us. As it drew closer, the driver slowed down.
“Zach, get over.”
“I will, I will,” and he did, just as I thought a headlong crash was unavoidable, because the other driver was nervously starting to pull over to his left.
“Zachary, you are not funny. I don’t enjoy being terrified. And you promised.”
“I promised not to go after any more old women. And I haven’t.”
“You’re not to go after anything, not old women, not fireworks, not drivers who’re on the right side of the road. Not anything.”
“Don’t get hysterical.”
“I will, if you don’t stop behaving like a lunatic.”
“A selenophile, that’s me. Are you a selenophile or a helio-phile? A lunar lover or a solar lover?”
“Zachary, I’m asking you please to drive like a reasonable human being.”
“Vicky-O, you’re not going to be a spoilsport today, are you?”
“If you call not wanting to be terrorized being a spoilsport, yes.”
“Didn’t we have a good time last Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“So let’s have a good time today.”
“I want to.”
“And stop worrying about this Jeb character. After we go up with Art I’ll take you to a Polynesian restaurant I think you’ll like. And, Vicky-O, sorry I frightened you. Truly.”
He sounded sincere, but I wasn’t sure. I was never sure with Zachary. However, I was a lot firmer with him than I’d have dared to be a summer ago. Both Adam and Leo had given me a kind of self-confidence that Suzy was born with, and I’d been afraid I’d never attain.
We reached the turnoff to the airport without further conversation. Art was waiting for us.
This time I was prepared to be strapped into the back, but I still wasn’t completely happy about it. Art didn’t even ask Zachary if he’d like to take off. Looking almost as intent as Rob building a sand castle, Zachary lovingly touched the instruments, and we lifted, easily, gracefully.
Art began giving soft instructions, and Zachary followed them without effort. Flying did seem natural for him, and the tenseness started to leave my muscles. I looked out and down at a strange and beautiful carpet made of the interlocked tops of trees. Lost in loveliness, I was able to forget that it was Zachary, not Art at the controls. Trees, farms, villages, moved by below us. I began to feel the words of a poem moving in my mind. I forgot to be anxious about Jeb, about Grandfather, and drifted like the breeze, moving with the plane, with the air, with time.
I closed my eyes, so that I didn’t see Zachary or Art, I didn’t see the plane, there was only the movement of flying, with nothing between me and the clouds.
“Vicky-O.”
I opened my eyes.
Zachary looked back at me and there was a glitter to his eyes I didn’t like. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt any more little old ladies. I hope there are no little old ladies on that plane.”
“Watch it,” Art said sharply.
“Zach!” The scream tore out of my throat. “Stop!”
I couldn’t see the approaching jet. I could hear it, sounding like thunder above us, but I couldn’t see it. “Zach!” I screamed again. I thought I would die of terror.
Art reached for the instruments with a swift and furious gesture and our little plane dropped like a stone and then veered sharply to the left. I could still hear the thunder of the jet, and my heart seemed to be trying to rip my body apart as I waited for the jet to crash into us.
“What the hell do you think you’re up to?” Art shouted.
Zachary looked very pale, paler than Grandfather. His jaw was set.
“Zachary!” Art repeated. “What were you trying to do?”
Now Zachary shrugged. “Nothing. Just a little fun.”
Art’s voice continued loud and belligerent. “Fun! Do you realize that you could have killed not only the three of us but well over a hundred people in that jet? Do you realize you probably scared the pants off that pilot?”
“Oh, cool it. I was
only giving Vicky a little thrill.” But his voice had a tremor in it.
My heart was still galloping, my voice frozen in my throat.
Art glared at him. “Scared yourself, did you? Came a little closer than you meant to? My God, kid, play with death by yourself if you have to, but leave the rest of us out of it. It’ll be a far day before I let you up in a plane again.”
“Aw, Art, you know I didn’t mean—”
“Get your hand off those controls. I’m taking us in.”
When we landed, Art helped me out of the plane. My legs were so shaky I couldn’t have managed on my own.
The big jet sat across the field, nearer the airport, with people streaming out, carrying flight bags, tennis racquets, golf clubs.
Zachary unstrapped himself and climbed out.
Art was still furious. “You stupid, smart-assed kid. Do you realize a trick like yours could cost me my license?”
“Art—I’m sorry—”
“Someday you’ll be sorry too late. Don’t come around tomorrow looking for a lesson.”
“Art, please—”
“Goodbye, Vicky,” Art said. “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you. Any time you feel like a ride, let me know, and I’ll take you up free, gratis.” He waved at me, ignored Zachary, and strode off.
Zachary started toward the Alfa Romeo. “Come along, let’s get going, Vicky-O.”
I planted my feet solidly on the tarmac. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’d rather walk.”
“Don’t be stupid. You know it’s much too far.”
“I’ll get Art to drive me.”
“Oh, come off it. Nothing happened.”
“You wanted it to.”
“If I’d wanted it to, it would have.”
“If it hadn’t been for Art, it might have.”
“I’d never hurt anybody. Not on purpose. You know that.”
“As Art said, if you keep on going this way, you’re going to hurt somebody whether it’s on purpose or not.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and I drew away.
“Relax, Vicky-O. You just scare easy.”
“You scared Art, too. And the pilot of the jet.”
“Art was just saying that. The pilot probably never even saw us. Listen, if you like, I’ll drive you to the hospital and you can see how your friend’s doing, and maybe even visit him.”
A Ring of Endless Light: The Austin Family Chronicles, Book 4 Page 25
