The Waking Bell

by Jackie Weger

  He scared me with the intensity in his voice. An urgency surged in my heart to make this right for him. I stared at him, perplexed on how to accomplish this.

  “I love you, too.”

  The words did little to alleviate his distress. He stepped away from me and turned toward the window.

  “The war changes a man, Cady Blue. You don’t come back the same. There are nights when I wake up in a sweat, believing I’m back in the bomber. Then I look over and see you. It makes me realize I have something to live for and not to look back. When I volunteered, I wanted to show Moria that I was a man worthy of loving. Adrenaline flows in your veins in the belief that you are standing up against a primal evil. Your life becomes a part of something bigger. I believed that in doing so that Moria would learn to love me on my return, show me tenderness that I desired. I would have done anything to earn her affection. To see that look when her eyes lit up when I walked into a room like she did before we married.”

  I listened to him. With each word, it felt that he was going back to that distant moment in time long before us. I didn’t know if I could pull him back to me.

  “At first, you live off the rush of the belief that you are doing God’s will. God. Country. Family,” he spoke staring out the window into nothingness. “War is inevitable. There is always going to be someone to convince their masses that violence is the only means to an end. Behind Hitler, the knowledge that his people believe in him scares the living shit out of me. Then, there is the reality behind gallant gestures. The truth behind a brave face is a man refuses to contemplate the certainty of one’s actions. My honest truth—I was terrified. Time was endless waiting for the time we would fly. Then, the hours up in the plane was horrific anticipating the devil Luftwaffe flying out of a cloud.”

  I watched as he stared out the window, as if he could see it now.

  “I lived on the knowledge that what I was doing was important and necessary. It wasn’t glamorous, like the pilots of the Spitfire or Mustang. There was nothing glitzy about holing up under a bomber. I chose it. Even when we declared war on Hitler, I chose to continue my job with the U.S. Air Force. They gave me a choice. It was a pat on the back because I had already been there fighting. I chose to continue because I realized that if I didn’t do it, someone else had to…I couldn’t have lived with myself if someone else died because I was afraid.”

  He shook his head and continued, “It wasn’t until I began to see pictures of the destruction bombings were causing London that I began to understand that was what we were doing to the Germans. Though at the time, I blocked out the thought. I had a job to do. But now… When I close my eyes, a young boy lying dead on a pile of rubble haunts me. In my dreams, that boy’s face becomes Alfie.” He whipped around and looked down at his hands. “I couldn’t save that boy…couldn’t save Alfie. How many lives am I responsible for taking?”

  He fell to his knees.

  Immediately, I knelt down and took his hands in mine. “I love you, Matthew Pritchard,” I whispered. “I love you.” I kissed his hands. “You’re the finest man I know. The most honorable. You’re brave and courageous. You protected us.”

  He took my face in his hands. “I’m not. Can’t you see? I’m a coward. I should never have married you. I did so because I’m selfish. I wanted to have you. Now you are trapped in our marriage.”

  “Trapped?” I uttered. “No, I wanted this as much as you.”

  “I wasn’t honest with you, Cady Blue,” he said. “I should have told you before. I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know the right thing to do.”

  His words faded, but his eyes shouted his anguish. He let go of me, but I took his hand.

  “Tell me. Please tell me.”

  “I didn’t lie about my marriage. At best, it was a farce. Whatever love I had for her died long ago,” he said. “Nor did I lie about the brooch. I suspected that it had to do with Moria’s lover. No, it’s about the boy. I believe that Moria had something to do with his disappearance.”

  The room turned deadly quiet. I couldn’t breathe. His words had sucked out all the air in the room.

  “After we found the shoe in the woods, I wasn’t totally honest about Moria. I did see her on the porch when I got home and I did go to sleep, but I woke in the wee hours of the morning. I found Moria in the living room. She had drunk herself into a stupor. We got into a huge fight. She wasn’t coherent, but I understood some of the words she was saying. A car…they had gotten him into a car. I dismissed her words then. I thought she was talking about her lover, but could she have been talking about Alfie? Did she meet her lover? Could it have been Jed? Could they have used Dodie’s car to cover up what had happened?”

  Releasing him, I covered my mouth with my hand. The memory of the two arguing at the revival flashed before me. He thought Jed was Moria’s lover. I looked back at Matt. All I could do was stare.

  Matt rubbed his face. “My first instinct was to protect the family name. I didn’t see Moria the next morning. I didn’t even go looking for her. I knew she wouldn’t be in any shape to question. I left early for the Pride, but no sooner than I got there, she called. She begged me to come home. She had to tell me the truth. She kept repeating, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The rest you know. I couldn’t find her. Mother said Moria was in a state. I looked around town, called Dodie, found you and asked about the brooch.”

  “You will never get Dodie to admit any wrongdoing,” I said as a statement, not a question. “She will twist it around to protect Jed.”

  “But I can’t let it go on any longer. I can’t be afraid of the truth,” he said. “No matter where it goes.”

  Chapter 20

  Time seemed endless after Matt had left for Knoxville to see his Uncle Norman. His uncle was his mother’s brother and a lawyer. Matt said he was a good one. I prayed he was.

  I hadn’t taken my bath and dressed until after Matt had left. I had the urge to grab him and beg him to stay. I was afraid of what would happen if he wasn’t here. But I didn’t.

  Instead, I kissed him lightly on the lips and wished him luck. I hoped he didn’t sense the fear I felt.

  I avoided Mrs. Holbrook. I had no wish to be under her scrutiny. I hadn’t ventured downstairs since Matt drove away.

  The morning passed slowly. I found I couldn’t focus on the book in my hand. The events around me distracted me.

  Before lunch, a noise disturbed the silence. I looked out the window to see a familiar truck moving up the driveway, weaving back and forth. I could tell it was going too fast. Then to my horror, I watched it hit the giant oak tree at the bend. I knew immediately it was Otis.

  I rushed out of the room and down the stairs. The entrance door was wide open. Mrs. Pritchard stood on the porch with her hand over her mouth. Her handyman, Pete, had already helped Otis out of the wrecked vehicle.

  The front end of the truck was smashed, and steam poured out. Otis glanced up at me and pushed Pete away.

  Otis started toward me. He was filthy. He had a bump over his left eye and a cut on his forehead. Blood flooded down his face. His work pants were ripped. His shirt had pin-sized holes at the elbows that had been scraped and skinned like he had fallen.

  He pointed at me. “Cady Blue! Cady! You need to come home with me—” Stumbling, he wheeled around, threw up, and fell face down into the mess.

  With great effort, we finally managed to get Otis on the couch in the living room. Mrs. Holbrook went to make coffee, believing, I supposed, that Otis was drunk. I wasn’t as certain.

  In my youth, I had seen Otis drunk many times. He was a mean drunk. I remembered him reeking of alcohol. I had memories of him sitting at the kitchen table and throwing anything in his hand at me: silverware, a cup, a dish, and once a book.

  “Need to pay attention to me, girl.”

  He never hit me during these episodes. His aim had been bad, and I had become extremely good at ducking. I learned to stay clear of him when I saw a beer in his hand. But that was a long time
ago. Since Dickie was born, I had never seen him in a drunken state.

  Neither did I believe he was now. He didn’t smell of alcohol.

  I wiped away the blood around his wound. He grabbed my arm. His eyes looked strange as they stared straight ahead. “Cady Blue,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t call…can’t trust—”

  “Don’t trust who? Why are you here? Why do you want me to go home?” My questions came like rapid gun fire.

  “Matt…”

  His eyes rolled back in his head. He fell back on the couch. I was sure he hadn’t heard anything I said.

  I took a step back.

  Mrs. Pritchard stood in the doorway. She frowned. “What do you want us to do now?”

  “He needs a doctor,” I said. “I’ll call Doc….”

  “Whatever for?” Mrs. Pritchard asked. “He’s drunk.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  She waved her hand toward the driveway. “Have you seen the truck embedded in our tree?”

  I wished she would go. I needed to take care of Otis. Instead, she was like a shadow, watching my every word.

  With my hand on the receiver, I saw Mrs. Pritchard move to my side. I hesitated.

  She laid her hand on mine. “Don’t. I implore you.”

  “I’m sorry if it disturbs you, but he’s my stepfather and…he’s hurt.”

  “You are only going to serve to embarrass the Pritchard name, more so than it has been.”

  The implication of her statement slowly sank within me. I found I could only stare at her.

  “My son has always had a soft heart. Too soft at times. When he was a child, he would always bring home injured animals. I would try to tell him that wild animals don’t survive in captivity, no matter how much care you give. Not one of the baby birds that fell off the nest nor baby bunny who lost its mother, lived. Not one.”

  I felt the dignity that Ginny Rose had instilled in me surface. I refused to debate with her that I wasn’t a wild animal.

  “Matt never had any difficulties in his youth to overcome. Life was good to him. He was handsome, wealthy, and intelligent. Confidence oozed from him. When he brought Moria home after he graduated from college, I wasn’t surprised. She was exactly what I pictured for my son. Moria carried herself with an elegance I had rarely seen, a combination of wit and beauty. Moreover, she came from an old family in Savannah.” She turned on me fiercely. “I don’t know much about what happened to them in London. I can assume it was my son’s stubborn belief in the need to defend his country. He was always too stubborn. If he wasn’t, then he would still be happily married to Moria with a half-dozen children surrounding him.”

  I had hoped we had put her disappointment with Matt marrying me behind us after the search warrant. It was apparent I had been wrong.

  “You have me confused,” I said. The sight of her pleading with me not to humiliate her further made me shudder. “Matt felt the call to protect the freewill of those not German and perhaps stop Hitler before American lives were lost. He answered quickly and decisively. Your son is a hero.”

  “It cost him his marriage,” she countered. “There was no need to jump into the war at that time. He should have taken care of Moria. And when he returned, he should have moved to Savannah like she wanted.”

  “You don’t know your son if you think that,” I answered with the same vigor. “He would never leave Oak Flatt. His heart is here.”

  “He would have if he wanted children. Moria refused to have any until they moved.”

  “I believe Moria misled you.”

  I had a sudden realization that Moria had carefully laid the seeds of doubt with Mrs. Pritchard about her own son. An image of Moria emerged, laughing behind the back of the mother-in-law we shared.

  “What do you know about Moria? You think you can replace her as mistress of this house? There is more to a marriage than the bedroom. I sense you don’t have the issue with children that Moria had. I wouldn’t expect less. You mountain people multiply like rabbits.”

  Her words slapped me worse than if she had hit me with a chunk of wood across my face. Vaguely, I remembered Goldie telling me never to come between a man and his mother. Perhaps, I should have relented in respect for my mother-in-law, but not today. Otis was my family.

  Ignoring the rising bells, I picked up the phone. “Dr. Taylor, please.”

  “Pa’s gonna get better. Ain’t he, Cady Blue?”

  Pressing my lips tightly together, I shook my head. “I don’t know, Dickie. I don’t know.”

  I turned my head so he couldn’t see a tear falling. It was bad, and I didn’t know how to hide it from my brother or even if I should.

  After Dr. Taylor arrived, it wasn’t five minutes later that he announced Otis needed to be in a hospital.

  “His pupils are dilated. His pulse is weak and blood pressure down. He’s a sick man.”

  From that moment, I hadn’t left Otis’s side until we had gotten to the hospital in Maryville. He threw up so many times that all he had left was bile. My hands shook while I held the bowl for Otis while Dr. Taylor drove. Otis hurt. I saw it in his face, but he said nothing.

  I was scared. He looked so pale.

  Mrs. Holbrook said she would see to it that Goldie was notified. Mrs. Pritchard said nothing as Pete and Dr. Taylor got Otis into the car.

  Now, I stood in the middle of a waiting room. Goldie was in with Otis, and I was at a loss as how to comfort Dickie. There were no words that would give him what he wanted other than Otis would recover.

  “Cady Blue?”

  I turned to find Matt walking into the room. I ran into his arms and wept.

  Dickie didn’t make any snide remarks but sat silently beside us when we sat. He had a need to be as close to me as possible.

  “Mother called me,” he said. “What does the doctor say?”

  I hesitated. Matt reached in his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “Dickie, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get us something to eat?”

  Dickie looked at me.

  “It’s fine, sweetie. We will be here when you get back.”

  I saw his fear, but I thought it would do him good. We had been waiting together for over an hour.

  Matt watched Dickie until he went out of sight. He turned back to me. “Mother said Otis was drunk?”

  “No.” I frowned. “It happened this morning a couple of hours after you left. He crashed into the tree out front, but I knew something was wrong—” I stopped. I almost complained about his mother, but this wasn’t the time or place. “Doc…Dr. Taylor thinks…” I choked on the words. “He believes Otis has taken too much of a medicine or ingested some type of poison. Matt, he believes it’s poison.”

  “Poison?” Matt uttered in total disbelief. “I was just with him this morning at Dee’s Café. He seemed perfectly fine.”

  I gripped his hand harder. “Was anything out of the ordinary?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “We talked about the situation, but we were in the back booth. No one could hear us, not even Jed and Dodie.”

  “Jed is back in town?”

  Matt rubbed his forehead. “Don’t go there. Neither Jed nor Dodie was near our food. Dodie waved from across the room.”

  I was silent for a long minute. I was over-tired. “There was one thing Otis said. He wanted me to go home with him. Said not to call. It made no sense.”

  He shook his head. “That came from me. I stopped at the Pride for a moment to sign some papers for Dave. He was talking about how his wife’s sister, Hazel, found out about Leo cheating on her from Millie Jane, Hazel’s cousin.”

  I looked at him questionably. “I don’t understand.”

  “Millie Jane? Down at the telephone company? She’s one of the operators?”

  Shaking my head, I shrugged. “Are you saying?”

  “Before we got our private line, Mother used to eavesdrop on our party line. I’m sure they did the same to us, although I’m certain
Mother would have been aghast to be overheard.”

  I’d always suspected, but it was hard to believe. “You’re saying that Millie Jane eavesdropped …that she overheard Leo?”

  He nodded. “I know you talk with Goldie. I just didn’t want it to get around about the shoe.”

  I sat back. My head pounded. I didn’t want to think about Alfie now. “So, it couldn’t have been at Dee’s Café is what you’re saying?” I said. “You left together.”

  “No, Otis was still there when I left.” He looked like he was reliving the moment. “Eli Wilder sat down when I got up. They were talking about some varmint stealing his chickens. I had to get to Knoxville.”

  “Then when could he have gotten hold of something?” I asked exasperated.

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” He pulled me into his shoulder. “But the doctors will figure it out.”

  I wished I had confidence in that statement, but I had seen Otis. I knew he was bad sick.

  Goldie walked into the room before Dickie got back. She seemed to have aged ten years. Her shoulders slumped; the lines on her forehead wrinkled with her eyebrows close together. She looked as though she had the weight of the world on her back.

  I stood, readied to run to her, but she put her hand up to stop me. The lines around her mouth tightened.

  Goldie looked down at the floor, then back up at me. “My boy is suffering,” she said. “Doc says that he ain’t gonna get better.”

  I heard a tray drop. Dickie collapsed on the floor beside the contents of the tray he had spilled over the floor.

  The world seemed to stop spinning at that moment with the realization that nothing was ever going to be the same.

  The days passed slowly with little change in Otis’s prognosis. I stayed at the hospital with Goldie. Matt had brought Dickie back to the house.

  Dr. Taylor had sent blood work to Knoxville. The results came back. Otis’s organs were failing. His kidneys seemed to be the worst affected. “I’m going to be honest,” the doctor said. “The odds of Otis pulling through are slim. I don’t know what caused this, but it has done considerable damage to his body. The most we can do is keep him comfortable.”