Clothed in Thunder

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Clothed in Thunder Page 8

by Abagail Eldan

“We’re so proud of her,” Uncle Colt said. “She made five A’s and a B+ on her report card.”

  Momma ignored Uncle Colt. Aunt Jenny cast him a glance, and they shared a look before Aunt Jenny turned back to Momma.

  “Is there anything we can get you, Molly?”

  “You can get me out of this place. Ain’t nothing wrong with me.” She stared in Aunt Jenny’s eyes defiantly.

  “Now, Molly. You know the doctor will release you as soon as you’re better.”

  Momma laughed. “He just wants to keep me here for the money you’re a paying him.” Then she looked contrite. “Sorry. I’m just ready to get home. I think I’m better.”

  Uncle Colt rubbed his chin. “That’s why you need to cooperate. You can get out a lot faster if you’ll do what the doctor tells you.”

  Momma caught my eyes again. “I need to tell you what happened.” Her eyes glazed over, and she began to speak. “One night, after we’d gone to sleep, the house caught on fire.”

  I started to interrupt, wondering why she was telling the story again, but Aunt Jenny put her finger to her lips.

  “I heard someone yelling.” Momma’s voice cracked, and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I got up but didn’t know where I was. The smoke had confused me. Someone grabbed me and pulled me through the window.” She looked at me. “It was your father. He went in for my husband but came back without him.” Her face contorted. “It was two o’clock in the morning. Your father was drunk. He always blamed his drunkenness for not being able to save my husband.” She rubbed her temples.

  “Poppa was drunk?” Zeke said.

  “Drunk as a skunk,” Momma said.

  Aunt Jenny cleared her throat. “Remember, Molly, he had just lost his wife. He was grieving and wasn’t himself.”

  Did all men drink? Because they just couldn’t face reality? But Poppa had quit, hadn’t he? He never drank. But what if he did, and I just didn’t know? Could he have hidden it from me, just as Michael had? I shook my head, trying to understand, to remember Poppa. No, I was sure he didn’t drink. Momma had continued with her story.

  “I was in the hospital for a while. He came to visit me every single day. Brought me flowers.”

  Momma’s eyes were on me as if waiting for me to speak.

  I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me that you weren’t my real mother,” I finally said.

  “I didn’t see any reason. I decided to treat you like my own daughter. I did what I could. Not that you cared.”

  My fault for failing her? Just like her to place the blame on me. Her time here had not changed her at all. Instead of anger, though, her words only increased my sadness.

  Uncle Colt tried to change the subject. “Did you ever want to move back to Birmingham?”

  “Wanting to get rid of me?” She cocked one eyebrow at him.

  “Of course not,” Uncle Colt said, shaking his head slowly. “Molly, you know we’d do all we can to help you.”

  Momma clamped her lips together as if she didn’t believe him.

  “We need to get going.” Aunt Jenny stood and gave Momma a hug. Momma continued sitting, her back stiff.

  Uncle Colt simply patted her shoulder.

  Momma kissed both Zeke’s cheeks before letting him down. I started to lean over to kiss her, but she put a hand up to stop me.

  Chapter 17—Clothed In Thunder

  Momma’s eyes clouded with pain. “No need pretending you care about me. Now that you know I’m not your real mother.” She narrowed her eyes as if daring me to deny it.

  “Momma,” I said, keeping my voice as soft as I could. “You took care of me when I was little. I appreciate everything you did for me.” I gave her a peck on the forehead and held out my hand to Zeke.

  She nodded. “Zeke looks well. Thank you for taking care of him while I can’t.” She turned her head away.

  Had she hidden her face so we wouldn’t see her tears? What I said had been true. Maybe she did care for me in a way I couldn’t understand. Maybe she had done her best.

  Zeke and I followed our aunt and uncle outside. As we emerged into the sunlight, Zeke tilted his head up at me, his eyes hopeful. “She was better, wasn’t she, Jay?”

  “I hope so Zeke.” I tousled his hair as we walked away from the mental hospital. He missed her. But that was only natural. She had always been nicer to him than she had been to me. At least up until Poppa died.

  “Can we come back again, Jay?”

  “Next time we visit. Maybe she’ll be back home by then.”

  His face lit up. “I hope so.”

  My heart constricted. What if she did get out? Would Zeke choose her over me? My shoulders drooped. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost him, too.

  But maybe that day would never come.

  We stayed one more night before heading back to Plainsville. We stopped at the same gas station Michael had stopped at when we had first traveled to my aunt and uncle’s. I refused the offer of a Coke, not wanting anything to remind me of Michael.

  I was glad to be home, and I snuggled into the feather bed with three quilts on top of me. But I didn’t sleep. I thought of Michael and how things had gone wrong so quickly. It seemed everything in life I loved, I lost.

  Anger coursed through me. Why was God doing this to me?

  Didn’t I deserve some happiness?

  I tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning.

  After my fitful night’s sleep, I slipped out of the house before anyone else was up. Bundled against the chilly morning air, I slapped a saddle on Red to go for a quick ride.

  Red was frisky from not being ridden for a couple of days. He broke into a gallop, and I lowered my head beside his neck and urged him on with my knees. He responded with a burst of fresh energy, his mane streaming past my face.

  Hast thou clothed his neck in thunder? God had asked Job.

  Wasn’t God in control even when it didn’t seem like it? Who was I to question God? I slowed Red down to a walk, enjoying the crisp morning air. A stream ran along the edge of Uncle Howard’s land, and I dismounted at its edge.

  The cold wind stung my cheeks, but I ignored the cold and walked closer to the stream.

  Momma had said Poppa was drunk when he had entered the burning house. It was hard to believe that Daniel, Michael, and Poppa all drank. Well, I could picture Daniel drinking. But Michael and Poppa? I shook my head.

  And, Michael had said someone else. Who had he meant?

  My head ached, and I rubbed my temples. If Michael had been talking about Poppa . . . People weren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, were they? Anger surged through me. How dare he talk about my Poppa! My head throbbed. Michael was nothing but trouble. I had just been too naive to know it.

  But I knew now.

  I caught the reins and climbed back on Red. I turned him back toward the stables, and we returned at a walk.

  The wind cooled my cheeks, and I felt calmer by the time we reached the barn.

  I got the curry comb and gave Red a good brushing before turning my attention to Whitey. He nudged my shoulder with his nose. I rubbed his muzzle, letting the simple act calm me.

  Maybe Daniel had not been thinking of me when he bought them. Just the same, I was glad they were here.

  I whistled for Chance, and we tussled, and the other dogs joined in. When I tired, I sat cross legged on the ground, and Chance flopped across my lap. I spoke aloud to him.

  “Why didn’t Michael bring you to me?” He perked his ears toward me.

  Why wasn’t Michael the one who now was sober instead of Daniel?

  But Chance didn’t have the answers. He simply raised his head, striving to understand what I needed. Did I know what I needed myself? Chance gave me what he had, his unconditional love and faithfulness. We sat there as long as the cold would let me before I went in to warm up and eat breakfast.

  And so life went on. I had schoolwork, the horses to care for, Chance, and
my friends and family. I tried to put Michael out of my mind, but some nights I still cried myself to sleep.

  I heard from Daniel—every week. I rarely answered, but the letters kept coming. The letters were friendly, news of his everyday life in the army.

  Marla told me she had heard through the grapevine that Michael had moved to Auburn to attend college, just as Laurie had already told me at Christmas. Auburn was just a few miles away, and I couldn’t help but think about Michael being so much closer.

  I threw myself into my studies, determined to forget him. The days, weeks, and months passed.

  By the time school let out for the summer, I was at the top of my class.

  I won several of the class awards, but it was a hollow victory, even when Mr. Albertson presented me with the math award.

  Still, it was a victory and held at least a measure of pleasure.

  Chapter 18—The Bus Trip

  Summer arrived with the days, at first, seeming to stretch endlessly before me. Yet, it came with a change that was to disrupt our lives once again.

  Its first indication was Aunt Jenny’s letter.

  Aunt Jenny wrote to let us know Momma was finally being released. Uncle Colt had gotten her an apartment in town, and she wanted to see Zeke and me.

  Uncle Howard and Aunt Liza couldn’t get away. Uncle Howard’s business had started to pick up, and he needed Aunt Liza’s help. They decided we would travel by bus.

  It was only June tenth when Zeke and I climbed onto the bus. Even this early in the summer, the temperature climbed to the nineties. At eight o’clock in the morning, it was already sweltering in the packed bus.

  I held Zeke on my lap next to the window. A husband and wife, each looking to weigh over two hundred pounds, took up most of the seat, leaving us little room.

  Zeke relaxed against me and soon slept, lulled to sleep by the swaying of the bus. I watched the landscape zip by as we traveled. What if Momma asked Zeke and me to move in with her? Or, if she just asked Zeke? What would I do?

  I had settled in my new school now and had made friends—Marla and Anne and Andrew. And Uncle Howard and Aunt Liza were so kind to us. My world would have been perfect if not for losing Michael.

  Would I be happy leaving Plainsville?

  I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. I grew sticky, wedged against the window with the direct rays of the sun shining through. The hot sun amplified the smell of sweaty bodies. The wind streamed through the opened window, blowing my hair around my face but doing little to cool me off.

  Smells of stale tobacco, a baby’s dirty diaper, and leather emanating from the seats swirled around me, making me feel nauseous. The baby screamed, only two seats ahead.

  I thought of Cedar Spring. It was always cool there next to the spring flowing over the rocks, underneath the trees that offered abundant shade.

  The time Michael and I had sat on the rock, and we had seen the twin fawns was one of my happiest memories. He had kissed me that day. Tears seeped from the corner of my eyes.

  I shook my head at myself, willing myself not to think of Michael. Why couldn’t I forget him?

  Like one of the annoying flies that shared our bus trip, memories of Michael kept returning to me, no matter how much I swatted. I opened my eyes and shifted Zeke to a more comfortable position.

  Almost six, he was really too big to be sitting in my lap. He’d start school in the fall. At the thought, my tears flowed faster.

  Life changed.

  I brushed away my tears. But it wasn’t as easy to brush away the uneasiness I felt.

  By the time we pulled to the bus stop, my legs had become numb. We were in the middle of the bus and had to wait for everyone to gather their things and shuffle slowly down the aisle.

  Uncle Colt waited for us and gave us both a hug. He retrieved our one suitcase before going with Zeke in search of a restroom. As I waited for them near Uncle Colt’s wagon, a hand touched me on the shoulder. When I turned, warm brown eyes came into view.

  Michael.

  He jerked his thumb toward the bus. “I came down on the bus. I’m out of school for the summer.”

  He’d been on the same bus with me, and I hadn’t seen him.

  I nodded my head and tried to smile. “Where’s your truck?”

  “It quit on me. I’ve been working on it but haven’t been able to fix it. I left it in Auburn.”

  Probably for the best if he was still drinking, and no doubt he was by the way he looked. “How’s school going?” I tried to keep my voice light and friendly, but my heart pounded in my ears, and my hands shook.

  “Good. I really like it.” His cheeks reddened. “You know Sylvia. . .”

  My heart leaped in my throat, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. “Yes?” I managed to croak out.

  “We’ve been dating for a couple of months now.”

  “Great,” I forced myself to say. Why was he torturing me?

  “Are you still planning on being a veterinarian?”

  I returned his gaze. Did he think I would just give up on my dreams? Crawl in a hole and die? I threw back my shoulders. “Yes, I am.”

  He looked relieved. “Well. . .I guess I’ll be seeing you around?” His eyes searched mine.

  Not if I saw him first. I managed a smile. “Swell.”

  His eyes saddened. “Listen, Jay, I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know. About Sylvia.”

  I didn’t say anything, only nodded.

  “I’ve got to get going.” And with that he left.

  Uncle Colt and Zeke returned before I moved from the spot. Uncle Colt placed a hand on the side of the wagon. “That looked like Michael Hutchison.”

  “It was.” I climbed onto the wagon seat, my motions mechanical.

  Zeke clambered into the back. He chattered to Uncle Colt as we rode toward the farm. Uncle Colt looked over Zeke’s head to study me occasionally, but he didn’t speak directly to me until we pulled into the yard.

  “Molly’s here, waiting for y’all. She’s going to spend the night, and I’ll take her home in the morning.”

  That was all he said, but I had a feeling there was more by the way he avoided my eyes. I swiped at Zeke’s face and hands with my handkerchief before we climbed off the wagon.

  Aunt Jenny, Momma, Laurie, and William all came out to meet us. Zeke ran to Momma, and she knelt to wrap him in an embrace. I hugged everyone and placed a kiss on Momma’s cheek. Momma and Zeke led the way into the house.

  Aunt Jenny, her arm around my waist, stopped me.

  “Anything wrong, Jay?” Her eyes searched me anxiously.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing.”

  “I know something’s wrong. You’re not yourself.”

  Aunt Jenny knew me too well. “Michael has a girlfriend.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  I shook my head and tried to smile. “It’s okay. I should be over him. And, maybe now I finally am.”

  Yes, Sylvia put the nail in the coffin.

  We followed the others into the house.

  Chapter 19—Daniel

  The delicious smells of Aunt Jenny’s cooking filled the house. I went out to the back porch and washed off some of the grime from the long bus ride.

  When I went back in, I joined the family already gathered around the table. Aunt Jenny had piled it high with butterbeans, black-eyed peas, fried cornbread, fried chicken, dumplings, fresh sliced tomatoes, and okra.

  All foods I would normally have dove into. Now my appetite was gone.

  I pretended to eat, toying with my food. Momma, though, was enjoying hers. She still had a pinched, pale complexion from being confined so long, but her face had already begun to fill out, and the dark circles under her eyes had faded since I had seen her at Christmas.

  Zeke talked excitedly about our bus trip, getting most things wrong since he slept most of the way. Laurie and William laughed and teased him.

  Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt also talked and laughed. I sta
yed quiet.

  And it wasn’t just over Michael. I felt left out, utterly alone. No one talked directly to me. Maybe Aunt Jenny had told them about Michael, and they thought I didn’t want to be bothered. But being ignored just increased my sadness.

  I had no one. Probably never would. Sure, I had my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my brother. But, somehow, it wasn’t enough.

  After Zeke ran out of things to tell, Momma turned to face me. “Jay, Colt found me some rooms in town.” She looked from me to Uncle Colt.

  Uncle Colt nodded. “I’ve taken over the farm and hired a couple of men to work it. We’ve managed to make the payments on it so far. Your momma has decided she doesn’t want to live there anymore.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “You’re not going back home?”

  Momma shook her head. “I can’t make a go of it. I’ll never be able to repay Colt for all he’s done.” Her cheeks reddened. “I had no right to force you and Zeke to work your fingers to the bone.”

  This new momma I didn’t recognize. I continued staring at her until she dropped her eyes.

  Everyone had fallen silent, waiting, I thought, to see what I would say. I squirmed in my seat, aware that I should say something to encourage her. “That’s okay, Momma.”

  It was all I could think of to say. It seemed to be enough. Momma raised her eyes and smiled at Aunt Jenny.

  “I fixed up the apartment right nice with Jenny’s help.”

  I waited, knowing more was to come.

  Momma looked at me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “I want you and Zeke to move in with me.”

  I sucked air between my teeth but didn’t speak.

  “We can come back, Momma?” Zeke scooted from his chair and rushed around the table to throw his arms around her.

  Momma lifted Zeke into her lap and brushed his hair back. “If y’all want to.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

  Zeke’s eyes sought mine. “Jay?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and thought it over. Did Momma really want me back? Or, did she just want Zeke? Did I even want to move back? In a way, it would be better. Now that Michael was in Auburn, I would be less likely to cross his path if I stayed here. Move back. Resume my old life.

 

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