Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  I held my breath.

  She strolled with a man at her side and he had his arm around her shoulders. A funny feeling erupted in my stomach. Who was the man? And why was he dressed weird?

  The woman was definitely Mama. Her red-gold hair hung down her back and she wasn’t wearing a hat. I’d have to tease her. She never let me leave the house without something to keep my head warm during the cold weather months.

  The man wore a long duster coat. It looked more like a preacher’s robe than anything. But it wasn’t Pastor Wolfson, and he didn’t wear robes usually anyway—only for what he called the holy days. Why did the man have his arm across Mama’s shoulders?

  I opened my mouth to shout and let her know Daddy and I were home but stopped again. The funny feeling grew. I didn’t want that man to see me. It felt wrong. Like something really bad would happen. Like the sunshine in my day had been hidden by a storm cloud.

  I turned around and ran back to the house. Daddy was still in the snake shed, so I went into the house and sat on my bed. My feelings were all confused and I didn’t know why.

  “Melody?”

  Mama called to me from outside. Would the strange man still be with her?

  “Coming, Mama.” I hopped off the bed and went out the front door.

  Mama smiled when she saw me, and I ran to give her a big hug. No sign of the strange man.

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes. I always have a good time on the mountain with Daddy.”

  Mama squeezed me against her side as we walked toward the snake shed. “And did you mind your daddy?”

  “As soon as he gave me the signals to slow and stop, I did.” Should I mention going to stand in the creek? “I only made one mistake and stepped on some dead leaves and they made noise.”

  “Sounds like you had a good first hunt.”

  We stopped at the door to the snake shed. Mama didn’t often go inside. Since Daddy had told me the story about Mama and the snake, I knew why.

  “Hey, Allie. I’d give you a kiss, but my hands are full at the moment.”

  Daddy had the snake we had captured in his hands. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Why did it take you so long to find your mother, miss?”

  Mama stroked my hair. “You were looking for me? Did you think I was hiding in your bedroom?”

  Daddy took a couple of steps closer. “She was supposed to be. What’s up, baby girl? Where were you, Allie?”

  I couldn’t meet Daddy’s gaze.

  “I went for a walk by the brook.”

  Why didn’t Mama say who walked beside her?

  “Melody, do you want to explain why you didn’t go look for your Mama like I asked you to?” Daddy’s voice was stern.

  “I did.” The funny feeling was back in my tummy.

  “You were in the house when I got back from my walk.” Mama cupped my face and looked into my eyes. “Were you too tired after the hunt to look outside?”

  “No. I did go down to the brook and I found you.” Oops. I hadn’t meant to say that. Why did I feel so weird?

  “But honey, why didn’t you let me know you were home if you found me?”

  I bit my lower lip.

  Daddy took another step toward us. “Melody, answer your mother.”

  “Because I didn’t know who the strange man was, and I didn’t want to disturb you if it was important.” I said the words as fast as I could just to get them out.

  “What man?”

  Mama looked confused. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

  Daddy’s frown deepened.

  “The man with the duster coat who put his arm across your shoulders.”

  Daddy’s hands tightened on the snake. It bared its fangs and struck.

  It bit Mama in the face. She screamed and it struck again and hit her neck.

  “Allie!” Daddy dropped the snake to catch Mama as she crumpled to the ground.

  The snake slithered away.

  Blood oozed from the bites on Mama’s cheek and neck and mingled with the urine-colored venom. Daddy held her in his arms and lowered her to the ground where he cradled her.

  I couldn’t catch my breath. What was going to happen to Mama? Tears filled my eyes.

  Daddy grabbed my wrist, his eyes full of tears. “Melody, sing your song.”

  What?

  He tugged on my arm. “Sing the snake song. Ask the snake spirits to spare her. You have to sing and heal her bites.”

  The tears rolled from my eyes. “I can’t remember the words, Daddy.”

  He pulled me down to the ground. “You have to, baby girl. You’re special. The snakes will listen to you, like in the story about Chief Yellow Snake.”

  Sobbing, I tried to remember the words that had come out of my mouth in the creek.

  Rattlesnake, rattlesnake, I fear you none

  Mama was afraid of snakes and the thing she feared had happened. My voice broke off.

  “Keep singing, Melody.” Daddy smoothed Mama’s hair. “Allie, you’re going to be okay. I’m going to call for help. Melody will stay with you and will sing you a song to heal you.”

  Crawling beneath, the moon and sun

  “I can’t feel your touch, Will.” Mama’s mouth barely moved and her voice was weak. “And we’re not supposed to get a doctor.”

  Daddy gently laid Mama’s head on the ground. “I have to, Allie. Stay with her, Melody, and don’t stop singing.”

  Show me no harm, under the sky

  My voice shook as I sang. I’d never seen Daddy scared like this. And Mama was hurt so bad ... I couldn’t stop my tears.

  Daddy came back faster than I expected.

  “Will, I’m having trouble breathing. I’m scared.” Mama barely whispered the words. “I love you.”

  I will show no fear, though afraid to die

  Daddy scooped her up in his arms. Her last breath sent a shudder through her body. Wailing, Daddy rocked back and forth holding Mama close.

  Sirens sounded in the distance. Too late ... for Mama ... for Daddy ... for me.

  Rakkie gripped tight in my hands, I sat on my bed, waiting. For what, I didn’t know. I was numb. If I closed my eyes, I saw the snake with its jaw wide open. I couldn’t believe Mama was dead. She couldn’t be. I loved her too much for her to be gone. What would Daddy and I do without her?

  Daddy came in and knelt in front of me. He put his hand along the side of my face and wiped the tears away with his thumb. Tears ran freely down his cheeks, too.

  “Melody, I want you to remember you will always be my baby girl.”

  I sniffed.

  “Mama’s spirit has called me, and I have to go. I want you to go stay with Uncle Harlan until I return.” He choked back his tears. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Just remember who you are and how special you are.”

  “Can’t I go with you?” I didn’t want him to leave me. And Uncle Harlan didn’t like me and never had.

  He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. “I wish I could bring you, but I must do this alone.” Daddy picked up Rakkie from the bed. “Raksha Waya will watch over you for me and protect you, as he always has. I love you, baby.”

  He put me back on the bed and strode out of the room before I could say another word.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16

  Dr. Kane jumped to his feet and grabbed his tablet from the desk.

  “After our last session, I’m excited to dig in and see how much further we can go.” He settled into his chair and opened the cover on his tablet.

  Melody arched her eyebrow as she glanced at the electronic device.

  He gave her a cockeyed grin. “After yesterday, I want a faster method to capture information than the old school yellow pad.”

  She turned the lock after she closed the door. Her hand dropped to her side, where she tapped her fingers against her leg in a fit of nervous energy.

  Dr. Kane waved her to the alcove. “You had my mind revving all n
ight thinking about music and how you answered my questions yesterday.”

  Melody sat on the couch and folded her hands in her lap. Her knuckles turned white from the firmness of her grip.

  “So where do we start?”

  She wouldn’t—couldn’t meet his gaze. As much as she tried to control it, her knee went into rapid bounce mode.

  “Whoa, Melody.” Dr. Kane immediately soothed her. “Remember, I’m here to help you get through this thing. I didn’t mean to make you nervous with my excitement.” The leather squeaked as he shifted his weight. “I’m excited because we had such a huge breakthrough yesterday. And I understand why it makes you nervous to know I will understand some of your answers to my questions.”

  The ticking of his watch measured off the moments.

  “It’s scary when you haven’t communicated with anyone for almost two years, to open up and let people know your thoughts.”

  A huge lump of ice formed in her stomach.

  “As I told you when we started these sessions, there are reasons you stopped talking. My job is to help you deal with those reasons and make you feel comfortable sharing what’s going on inside your head.” The tablet screen clicked as it was unlocked. “So, I want you to relax, breathe deeply, while I find something for us to talk about today.”

  The sunlight sparkled on the leaves of the tree as it beamed down, yesterday’s thunderstorm a thing of the past. Trees, grass, and flowers were fresh and clean, the soot deposits from the city hadn’t yet tarnished them. Her fingers relaxed, allowing the circulation to be restored. Fingertips prickling as normal color returned, her bouncing knee slowed.

  “Good. You’re relaxing. It is easier to communicate when you’re relaxed.”

  Dr. Kane waited while Melody released the tension from her body.

  Finally, her back touched the couch and she sank against the cushion.

  Dr. Kane flashed a smile, showing off his straight, white teeth. “Let’s start with your foster placements. Except for your first placement, you’ve bounced around in the system.”

  Melody reached for the music player, but her fingers froze. She couldn’t bring up the menu.

  “Don’t hold back now. How do you feel about having moved around so much?”

  She stared into his blue eyes for a long moment before picking up the music player. Once the song had been selected, she pushed play and turned her head away.

  Dr. Kane raised his voice to be heard over the intro. “Excellent choice. ‘In Control of Me’ captures the longing perfectly.”

  Keeping her body faced away, she craned her head around to peek over her shoulder. Dr. Kane had his eyes closed, mouthing the words, and used his index fingers to play the air drums.

  Am I not human

  Kicked to the ground

  Covered in mud

  Am I forever bound

  I pray for strength

  To break out of jail

  Yearn to be free

  God post my bail

  Never fitting in

  Held back by chains

  Alone in hell

  Where the devil reigns

  I want to move on

  I want to be free

  I want to be

  In control of me

  After the chorus, Melody hit pause.

  His eyes shot open. “Hey. You cut me off before my drum solo.”

  She stifled a grin.

  He pointed his finger and wagged it. “Don’t think I don’t see you trying to hide that smug smile from me. I happen to rock the drum solo.” He tossed his head as if offended.

  Melody giggled. Then her hands flew to her mouth and she froze. Her stomach twisted in knots.

  Dr. Kane jumped from his chair, arms raised to signal a touchdown. “Finally. I can’t believe I got you to laugh. I should be doing an end zone dance or a victory lap.” He pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “You had me worried. I thought I might have lost my touch ... or worse, that I have never been funny in the first place. My pride has taken a beating, session after session.”

  He stopped clowning around and grew serious for a moment. “Laughter is good for you, Melody. Nothing horrible is going to happen because you think something is funny and show it.”

  The knots in her stomach relaxed.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Besides, you made my week. I’m going to bask in the glory of the moment all day.” He sat, put his hands behind his head, and leaned back. “I can see it now ... front page news ... adoring fans ... autograph requests. All over the world, I’ll be known as the guy who made Melody Fisher laugh.” He leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. “We should get back to work. After all, you’ll need to be able to talk to confirm my moment of awesomeness.”

  Melody shook her head.

  He curled his lip. “So, you think I’m delusional? I’ll show you.” He grinned. “But we really should get back to it.” He checked his tablet. “You stayed with the Jacksons for only a short period of time before moving on. What did you feel about your life with them?”

  Without changing the song to a different one, she hit play. The heavy, driving beat resumed.

  So damn angry

  And I know why

  Breaking my heart

  Making me cry

  Life shouldn’t be

  What my eyes see

  I want to be

  In control of me

  She hit pause and bit her lower lip before raising her eyes to meet his.

  Chapter Seventeen

  December 22, 2011 – Melody, age 12

  Two brown paper bags full of my belongings sat on the floor between my feet. As dusk fell, I didn’t move from the back seat of the car. I glanced apprehensively at the house. The memory of Quatie Raincrow strapped to a gurney being wheeled out to the ambulance flashed in my mind. She had looked so weak and pale. We belonged together. What would I do without her?

  Miss Prescott opened the door. “Come on, Melody. The Jacksons are waiting for you.”

  But I didn’t want anyone to be waiting for me. I wanted to go home.

  Peering over the window into the car, Miss Prescott made a sad face. “Honey, I know this is hard on you. I love Quatie, too, and she told me she loves fostering you, but the best thing you can do for her is to stay with someone until she is better.”

  She stood to the side to allow me room to get out and peered at the sky. “Don’t worry about your stuff. The rain will hold off for a little longer. We can bring your things in later. Let’s meet the family first.”

  At least Miss Prescott didn’t call them my new family. I slid across the cloth seat, swung my legs out the door, and stood. The pavement was wet from the earlier cloudburst, and trees and bushes still dripped. I didn’t want to meet these people. I had my family in Quatie Raincrow. She had to get better. Then I could go home.

  Miss Prescott shivered while she waited for me to walk up the path. The Christmas lights on the other houses on the street blinked on. The houses were closer together than I was used to, but still not as close as the middle of town. Land separated each house, but the Jacksons’ house stood out like a gaping hole in the bright, cheerful lights. My gut twisted. Why did the lack of decorations make me so uneasy? I’d never celebrated the commercial aspects of Christmas.

  With Mama and Daddy, we’d never put up lights on the house. We’d always have a tree inside because Mama liked the way it made the house smell. And Quatie had a tree in her yard she called her Christmas tree. I’d gather boughs of spruce and decorate her mantle because the smell always made me think of Mama. We’d string seeds and berries into garlands to decorate the tree because Quatie said the birds and squirrels would call it their Christmas feast—a symbolic celebration of the birth of Christ through feeding the cycle of life.

  Two years ago, I had asked to put lights on the tree, but Quatie said there was no need ... God had provided. That night she’d brought me out on the porch and the moon lit the tree and the stars twinkled in the background
. As we sat muffled up, sipping hot cocoa and rocking on the swing, no store-bought string of multicolored lights could possibly compare with the grandeur of what God had provided.

  Quatie and I made presents for each other every year because Quatie always wanted something from my heart and not the store. The thought of the muff I had knitted for her, hiding in the closet, waiting to be wrapped brought a tear to my eye. Would I be able to give it to her and explain it was for keeping her hands warm as she rocked back and forth on the porch swing watching the sunset?

  Mama and Daddy hadn’t been big on store-bought gifts either.

  Although Rakkie had been a Christmas present when I was little. I didn’t remember ever not having him. I wished I’d grabbed him out of the bag instead of leaving him in the car. I didn’t care whether it made me look like a little kid. Raksha Waya would always be my protector. And I needed him.

  When I joined Miss Prescott on the porch, she smiled. Probably trying to tell me everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t. Not in a strange place with strange people. She knocked on the door.

  After a few moments, shuffling footsteps came from the other side. Two locks snicked back and someone fumbled with a third before the door creaked open. A woman poked her head through the opening and pulled her thin beige sweater tight. Her light-brown hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail, escaped its binding and fell forward across her face. “Yes?”

  Miss Prescott held out her hand. “Mrs. Jackson, I’m Rebecca Prescott. I spoke with you earlier about bringing Melody by.”

  Mrs. Jackson scraped her limp, thin hair behind her ear and shook Miss Prescott’s hand briefly. “Come in.” She stepped back and allowed us to pass.

  Her face, oval and smooth, had the skin tone of a china doll, her creamy white complexion marred only by a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks.

  “Grady and Boyd are in the family room.” Mrs. Jackson led the way.

  The hall walls were painted a grayish white and didn’t have any pictures or paintings. They were stark and without decoration of any kind. When we entered the family room, the walls were the same. Painted, no decorations. The wood flooring had a braided oval rug of blue and gray—the only decorative thing in the room.