“Snotty personality.”
“With a sister serving at a mission in Kagera, Tanzania.”
She sobered. “We really should do something for Sally Beth and the mission there. It sounds like they are doing good work.”
He stretched his arms over his head and lay back.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but what do you think about calling up your old boyfriend? Nobody knows money more than he does, and I bet he has to take some sort of oath about client confidentiality. He might be able to find us somebody to help us write these grants to be airtight. And besides, we need to invest in more than land. He might could help.”
“Chap! Really? You want to let Howard Graves in on the secret? You trust him?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I trust him. But we don’t have to tell him about the gold. Just the oil.” He winked at her before pulling her closer and tucking her head under his chin, then he became thoughtful.
“That morning when he came looking for you up at the cabin, I saw something in him that I liked. He figured out what had happened in a New York minute, and even after I swore up and down you had been too sick to be interested in the likes of me, he knew. We had a stare-down for a minute. He let me win it, and he let me know he was letting me win, like he was telling me your happiness was more important to him than his own. That made me feel like there was something to him. And I guess you trust him. He still manages your money. Do you?”
She thought about it. “Yes,” she said slowly. “He is a good man, underneath that slick exterior. And he does know what he’s doing with investments. He made me rich enough, and I am happy to let him keep on making good bets for me. It would be nice to keep it in the family, so to speak.” She paused. “That’s another thing I love about you. You aren’t the jealous type.”
“Oh, I can be jealous. And mean. As bad as Myrtle. Just try and cross me.”
She snorted. “The way I see it, Myrtle has met her match. Have you seen Edna Mae? She’s twice Jimmy Lee’s size, and at least half again Myrtle’s. Sweet girl, though. Pretty face. I think Jimmy Lee’s got a keeper there. You think he can keep the secret from her?”
“He’d better.” He suddenly shifted, leaning on his elbow and looking at Geneva. “What would you think if I closed the mine?”
“Close it? How?”
“I’d dynamite it closed, seal it up. Clear out all the evidence from the creek and put things back the way it should be. I’m tired of being careful, always watching, always scared somebody is going to come up and find out what’s there. We’ve got all the money we could ever need for generations to come—we can’t even spend near all we’ve got, even if folks think we have an oil well, even if we give millions away. Jimmy Lee can stop working it, and Edna Mae or whoever he marries doesn’t even have to know about it. Heck, we can even pass off the money we invest with Howard as income from an oil well. If he finds us a good lawyer to take care of the grants, he’ll never know how much we really have.” He watched her carefully. “I’m just tired of this uneasy feeling, not trusting anybody.”
She laughed out loud. “Howard, I can’t even fathom how much money you do have! I just know you told me I can give millions away as long as nobody knows where it came from. If you want to seal up that mine, do it. But keep the cabin. And the garden. And don’t mess up the creek, or the mint patch. I’d give up all the gold in the world before I gave up that place.”
He kissed her. “That’s my girl. Now, I’m hungry. Let’s go have breakfast and then we can go check on the house. They’re putting on the roof today. Should I tell them to add about eight more bedrooms?”
“Very funny. I look forward to the day you are too fat and lazy to dance down the stars. I’m not safe until then.”
Fifteen
October 9, 1878, Kyaka, Tanzania
Sally Beth rushed into the clinic very late. It had taken her longer than she thought it would to get the girls up, dressed, fed, and delivered to school. But nobody minded, for the clinic was quiet. Dr. Sams was sitting at her desk reading a medical journal when she arrived. He glanced up, smiling.
“Hi Sally Beth. Slow day today. Pastor Umbatu came by. You got two letters that were dropped off at his office by mistake.” He handed her the envelopes.
“Oh, it’s from my sister! And one from…” She stopped, surprised to see the return address. Elvis Chuck.
“Well, I’m going to go to the kitchen and get another cup of coffee. You know where to find me if any emergencies come in.”
She opened the envelope from Elvis Chuck as she sat down. While it might have been nice if John were there to read it to her so she wouldn’t have to puzzle through it all by herself, she really didn’t want John to be privy to what might be in it. Flattening the letter on her desk, she picked up two rulers and laid them below and above the first line of script. By hiding lines under the ruler, the words were easier to manage. Still, she read slowly.
September 24, 1978
My Dear Sally Beth,
I have been thinking about you nonstop ever since I got on that bus in Fort Worth.
She stopped, her face suddenly flaming and her heart thumping. Bending over the paper, she continued reading. His handwriting was more legible than Lilly’s and easier to read.
I hear you are in Africa! What a surprise to me, and a disappointment, especially since I have the opportunity to spend some time in Nashville next month. Looking at the map, I see that Nashville is not THAT far from Tucker, West Virginia, at least not as far as Las Vegas is. I was hoping that you could either pop down and meet me or I might take a side trip and come to see you. It seems that we might have some things in common that I was hoping to explore more.
But you will be in Africa until December, so I guess that possibility is out. Maybe another time?
Anyway, I hope you will write to me, and if you don’t mind, send a picture. I look forward to hearing from you.
Your admirer,
(Elvis)Chuck
She had calmed down by the time she had reached the end of the letter. Elvis Chuck had been nice, and it was sweet of him to offer to see her again, but somehow, that warm night on the road to Fort Worth seemed every bit the half a world away that it was. She knew she was going to have to write him back to tell him she was sorry if she had led him on. She sighed, dreading the task as she picked up Lilly’s letter.
Sept 22, 1978
Hey girl!
I am between classes, so I thought I’d write and give you all the news. Everything is going great at school. These little 18 year olds act like school is hard, but I think that’s because all they want to do is party. Phil and I are the only ones who don’t cut class. It isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
I am really loving my women’s studies class. We’re reading The Beauty Myth by Naomi Woolf, and it got me to thinking about what beauty is, and I realized that all women are beautiful in some way, but most of them don’t realize it and try to hide what they think are flaws. You know how Edna Mae covers herself up because she’s too beautiful, and some women do it because they think they are ugly, while some try to flaunt what they think looks good, and that kind of makes them look bad because they’re trying too hard, and then some don’t care what people think and just do what makes them happy, and that gives them a certain kind of beauty.
Sally Beth had to puzzle through that sentence two more times before she finally figured out what Lilly was trying to say.
Anyway, I have to write a term paper and am combining it with a photography project, calling it “Studies in Beauty.” You know those skinny Carver girls? I think I can take pictures of them and bring out how pretty they really are even though people call them sacks of bones. And Dawn Hatfield with the scar from the cleft palate? Well, she has a beautiful profile, and she’s pretty even with the scar—I think her crooked mouth is actually nice in an odd sort of way. Anyway, I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with it, the pictures illustrating what I mean when I talk about di
fferent standards of beauty in the paper.
So, that’s keeping me busy, along with the Flora/Fauna project I’m working on with Phil, who is becoming my best friend, and no, not a boyfriend! He actually has a girlfriend. She’s a little off-beat, but I like her. She seems real confident and interesting—one of those women who don’t care what anybody thinks, and I hope she will let me photograph her for the “Studies in Beauty” project!
Guess who was in town last weekend??? Howard Graves! You know, Geneva’s old boyfriend? His mother got real close to Geneva when she was living in DC when she was pregnant, and she wanted to see Blue, so they came down and stayed at Rachel’s house, and everybody was just as friendly as could be. Howard and Geneva came over and spent some time with him, although I can’t imagine what they talked about for a whole afternoon. Rachel had invited me over for dinner, and when I got there, they all three (Geneva and her two Howards!) were in the study with the door closed. It made me nervous wondering what they were whispering about. I got to wondering if Howard Knight was challenging him to a duel or something!
It was odd being there without you, but I had the funniest conversation with Howard (Graves). I got to thinking how bad I behaved the last time we had dinner over there—I was going through some weird stuff then, and I know I was acting pretty awful, and I just told him I was sorry I had been so terrible, and he was very nice about it! We got to talking about my photography projects, and he said they were real interesting, and then, he said the funniest thing. He said, “Lilly, I think you and I are growing up at about the same pace.” I thought that was sweet. He made me feel like a real person, not some backwards hillbilly who doesn’t know her a— from a hole in the ground. He says he might come back next month to see the Flora and Fauna exhibit when it goes up at the Student Union. Ours is going to be SOOO much better than everybody else’s! The professor is already getting excited about it. He says I have “a real eye for nuance and for photographic commentary within my images,” whatever that means!
The insurance money still hasn’t come in, but they say these things take a while. Don’t worry. I’ll pay that mortgage off just as soon as it comes. I had to quit my super-duper photography business for the most part, I’m just so busy, but I’m not spending much and I can make the house payments with the money left in Mama’s account for a few more months. I was spending a fortune on film—we have a darkroom so we develop ourselves, but somebody donated a THOUSAND rolls of film, and gallons of developing and fixing solutions to the class, and so now we don’t have to buy that either. The professor says we can take whatever we need. Phil and I are going through it like hot you-know-what through a possum! Last night we developed pictures until 3:00 A.M.
I was so tired I couldn’t even remember where I had parked my car, so Phil told me I could crash at his and Molly’s house (They are living in sin!), and this morning, they said I could stay with them until this project is done so I can spend every spare minute in the darkroom. It’s better to use it late at night because we have only three that the whole class uses, and we need it waaay more than our “official” time slot.
Love you. Gotta go. There is a squirrel sitting on the tree outside eating a nut. I’m going to go see if I can get a close-up.
Love and hugs,
Lilly
P. S. You should see the house Howard and Geneva are building up at the Jumpoff. It is going to be really big, and really beautiful! I think that oil well must be doing pretty good. That, or Geneva is making a lot of money renting out her apartment in DC. It might be nice having a rich cousin. Ha ha!
Edna Mae and Jimmy Lee are still getting along just fine, and Myrtle is still badmouthing Edna Mae, but Edna Mae doesn’t seem to mind. She just looks sad when anybody talks about Myrtle. She really is the sweetest thing.
Oct 4.
I was just about to mail this, but before I got to the mailbox, Edna Mae called. She wants to rent the house! She loves it—says this is just the kind of house she’s always wanted to live in, and she fell in love with Mama’s asters that are blooming like crazy now. Beginning next week she’s got a job as a receptionist for Bubba Henry right here in town. I guess she’s here for good, which means Jimmy Lee is happy. She thought maybe I could use a roommate, but now I’m thinking I can just rent a room from Phil and Molly until I finish my courses at the college, which will save me the hour’s drive to and from school every day. If I move to Mt. Jackson, Edna Mae can just take over the house until you get home, and when you get back, you’ll have a roommate if you want. I told her she can stay at least until you get home. I hope that’s ok with you. It will sure save us a lot of $$.
Sally Beth sat back after reading the letter. “Well, I’ll be,” she said aloud. “Lilly working past midnight and then just crashing at Phil’s house? Edna Mae wants to take over the house?” It was so unbelievable that she read the letter again to make sure she had read it right the first time, but before she could completely finish it, a young woman with a snakebite was rushed into the clinic, and the rest of the morning was gone before she could get back to it.
At lunch, Lyla joined Sally Beth for sandwiches. Afterwards, she pulled out a batch of cookies, which she called “biscuits,” and began brewing tea. “I know you like orange zest in your tea, Sally Beth, so I chopped up fresh whole oranges to put in here. I think we’re on to something.
“It’s going to rain soon,” she continued, “so let’s go outside for our tea to watch it come in. You can count on it coming every day until the season is over. You’ll get to see the color of rain, now, my friend.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the urgent clanging of church bells. Pastor Umbatu suddenly came running into the clinic. “I just got a call from the church at Mutukula. Idi Amin’s army has attacked the border! I don’t know if they are just coming after some who have fled after the assassination attempt or if he really is invading, but there are casualties in the south of the city.” He glanced around the room at the few people gathered in the waiting room as he moved to the door. “Come with me. Everyone is going to the church. I will tell you what I know there.”
The sanctuary was already half full when they arrived. Pastor Umbatu ran to the pulpit, beginning without preamble. “My friends, there is fighting at the border in Mutukula. Our brothers at the church there tell me that Ugandan forces have pushed their way across, and there is a battle going on right now. They have already had a few casualties. That is all I know.”
Soft murmurings rose up from the pews. “Do you think this is a real invasion or just one of Amin’s raids into Mutukula?”
“Maybe they have just come after those who attempted to kill Amin? Maybe they found them there?”
“Are we in danger here?”
“Should we go to Mutukula to help?”
The questions started flying faster. Pastor Umbatu raised his hands. “I know nothing more, but I will tell you as soon as I hear anything. The official word is that Idi Amin is just up to his old tricks and nothing will come of it. I think we are safe here for now, and even if they do move south, there is no reason for them to molest us here at the mission. It is, of course, against the rules of battle to harm anyone who is doing God’s work. And I don’t think any of you should go there. It would be foolish to walk into danger, and if they need us, they can bring patients to us. It is only twenty miles to the border, less to where they are fighting. As a matter of fact, I would not be surprised that if we listen carefully, we will be able to hear it from here.”
All fell quiet, then, as if one, they rose to make their way outside, past the courtyard and out to the meadow to the north. The wind was blowing from the southwest, and no matter how hard she strained, Sally Beth could hear only the breath of the wind and the chattering of birds and monkeys. Everyone began milling around, murmuring softly.
“I think we need to get prepared,” said Dr. Sams. “Casualties could be coming in at any time, and we need to do all we can to be ready for them. Does anybody know where Joh
n is? It would be nice if he could run down to Bukoba and bring some extra supplies.”
“He’s probably at his place at Kigemba,” said Sally Beth.
“Close enough to contact by radio,” Dr. Price said. “I’ll get over to the office and see if I can raise him. If not, I’ll drive to Bukoba myself. I can get there and back in four hours, if you radio ahead and ask them to get the supplies ready.”
“Right, but if John can go, you can be here if any casualties come in.”
The wind shifted, bringing a low rumbling sound, ominous and malevolent. Everyone froze for a moment as they realized what it meant: that, truly, war was at their door. They suddenly all broke into a run. Dr. Sams shouted orders. Lyla raced for the school, calling for children who had been playing on the playground to come back to the classroom. Sally Beth ran with the others. She didn’t know what she could do, but she was anxious to do what she could.
Shortly after that, the rain came, breaking the long dry spell and spreading a shimmering light over the land. The sun was still shining to the west, turning the silver drops into a thousand glistening rainbows. Awed at the sight, Sally Beth understood why Lyla had said the rain is full of beauty, and through her fear and grief, she felt a flutter of pleasure that Lyla had thought that she was the color of rain. She would have to thank her later.
October 10, 1978
No casualties had come in the day before, and after the brief noise of battle they had heard earlier, no sound but the pattering of raindrops hung upon the wind. Still, the tension in the clinic rose as the day wore on, and today, no one had a moment to forget about the death and misery foraging through the land to the north of them. Soldiers from the Tanzanian army were already on the road beside the mission, streaming northward in a steady line of tanks and jeeps bristling with guns and soldiers. Occasionally a truck bearing large-bore guns and bazookas, weapons capable of destroying entire villages and all the lives within them, came roaring by, slinging red mud into the greening grass and disturbing the peaceful rain. Each truck full of soldiers that slogged by deepened the atmosphere of foreboding.
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