Mama and Papa didn’t say a word to each other through supper. “Take some smoked venison with ye,” Papa told Iwan, “and a few jars of preserves. Miz Elda ain’t been well enow to do much for herself.”
“If it’s all right, Pa, I’ll go by Cluny’s on the way home,” Iwan said. “Moon’s full enow tonight to see my way home.”
Papa smiled knowingly. “Do that. She’s a pretty little gal and growing up fast. Take the gun with ye. Ye might run into the painter that’s been killing sheep.”
The evening was filled with frog song and fireflies dancing. Iwan walked cautious, the gun tucked secure under his arm, barrel down, the hound sniffing along the trail ahead of us.
“What’s your hurry?” he asked me with a wry glance.
I slowed my pace, wishing heartily he’d hurry his. “Just thought ye’d want to get on to Cluny’s soon as ye could.”
“Cluny ain’t going nowhere. Her pa never lets her go much beyond the porch after the sundown anyway.”
I liked Cluny better than any of the other girls in the highlands. Everyone had their own ideas about what happened to Elen and took pleasure in discussing it among themselves, especially if I was around. Cluny was the only one who treated me same as before. “Ye going to marry her someday, Iwan?”
“Dunno.”
“She’ll say yes.”
“What makes ye so sure?”
“Granny said a girl blushes when a boy she loves comes close, and Cluny blushes every time ye’re anywhere near her.”
He grinned at me. “Ye mean like ye do whenever Fagan comes round.”
“I do not!”
He laughed. “Don’t get all het up! And come on back here and walk with me. I was only teasing.”
Face hot, I fell into step beside him again. As we crossed the highland meadow together, he grew more serious. “What’s going on between you and that old woman anyway?”
“Nothing.”
“I can always tell when ye’re lying, Cadi.”
“She lets me talk is all.”
“Talk about what?”
“Just things.”
“What sort of things?” He was pressing harder than usual. Had Papa put him up to it?
“Whatever comes to mind,” I said, hoping he would be satisfied with that.
“Ye used to talk to me about things.”
“Ye’re all the time busy working for Pa and mooning over Cluny.”
“That don’t mean I don’t have time for ye. Come on, Cadi. Why won’t ye trust me?”
“Who said I don’t trust you?”
He pulled me to a stop. “So prove it. Tell me what’s going on between you and that old woman and Fagan Kai.”
“Why do ye think summat’s going on?”
“Fagan ain’t in the habit of asking after people, especially ten-year-old girls. Add to that his father telling him to stay clear of Elda Kendric. If he’d been staying clear, he wouldn’t know the old woman’s been wondering where ye’ve been. And now we’re about it, why would she be saying she missed ye if ye hadn’t been over there often enow for her to get used to ye? Tell me that.”
Flustered, I tried to pull free. “How should I know? Ask him.”
“I did ask him. He dinna give me an answer that satisfied.”
“He’s your friend, Iwan.”
“I thought he was, but he don’t have the time of day for me anymore. Any spare time he’s got, he’s spending with you. It don’t sit right is all.”
“What don’t sit right?”
“Look here, Cadi. He’s near as old as I am. So what’s he see in a baby like you?”
“Mayhap we’re both interested in the same things.”
“Things again. Name a few.”
“Fishing,” I said lamely and jerked free. I started walking again.
“Ye’ve never shown an interest in fishing before.”
“And trapping.”
“Trapping what, I’d like to know?”
I bit my lip, afeared I’d slipped. “Fagan brought a squirrel to Miz Elda.”
“The Kai’d sooner see her starve.”
I stopped and stared back at him. “Why, Iwan? What’s he got against her?”
“I don’t know, but he’s been dead set against her as long as I can remember.”
“That dinna keep Granny away.”
“No, and I reckon it ain’t gonna keep you away either.” He whistled sharply, turning the hound back from his wanderings. “I got a gut feeling you and Fagan and that old woman are in for a heap of trouble.”
When he asked no more questions, I knew he was letting go of me. Things had changed between us. I hadn’t wanted it to be that way, but telling him what I had to do would have put stumbling blocks in my path. It made me sad I couldn’t trust my own brother. A part of me wanted him to press harder, to dig deeper, to draw the truth out of me, while another part of me was afraid of what he’d do if he knew what I was planning. I stopped and waited for him, wanting to build a bridge between us and not let the gap widen further. “I’m just trying to set things right, Iwan. That’s all I’m trying to do.”
He stood looking at me. “And the old woman’s helping you?”
“She’s my friend.”
“And Fagan?”
I lowered my head, embarrassed at what he might see in my eyes. “Fagan’s got troubles of his own.”
Iwan tipped my chin. “All well and good, Cadi, as long as he doesna drag ye into ’em.” He walked on without speaking after that. The hound fell in beside him, panting and grinning when my brother scratched his head.
Miz Elda was sitting on her porch, waiting. Iwan helloed the house and waited for her to call back before he came closer. He slung the gunnysack off his shoulder and onto her porch. “Greetings from the folks, ma’am. Sorry to hear ye’re feeling poorly.”
“Tell ’em thank ye kindly for whatever ye brung in the sack.”
Iwan nodded and strode off without a backward glance. Miz Elda watched him go.
“That brother of yours ain’t much for socializing.”
“He’s on his way to the Byrneses’ to see Cluny.”
“Ahhh. No wonder he’s in a hurry. Cleet’s had his eye on the girl, I heard.”
“Cluny likes Iwan better.”
“That’s never mattered to a Kai,” Miz Elda said grimly, then gestured. “What’s in the sack?”
“Smoked venison and some of Mama’s preserves.” When she looked down her nose at me, I stared back at her. “I dinna steal ’em. I swear. It was Papa’s idea.”
“Reckon I can believe that since it was Iwan who brung the sack,” she said with a wry grin. “Go on now and cut off some of that smoked venison and put it to soak.”
“Iwan shot a young buck, Miz Elda, not an old stag.”
“I don’t doubt that, child, but that meat’ll have to soak a month of Sundays before I can chew it. I’ve only got a few teeth left.”
We sat on the porch together, Miz Elda rocking, me just staring off into the darkness toward the western mountains. We didn’t say anything. I don’t rightly know what Miz Elda was thinking about, but as for me, I was trying to think over what I’d say when I faced the man of God again. It was hard going. The crickets were chirping and the frogs croaking so loud a body could hardly think for all the noise.
“Have ye changed your mind about going down there again?”
Miz Elda said.
“No, ma’am.”
“Well, it’s dark, ain’t it? Ye best get going. Time’s awasting.”
My heart started thumping. “Just because the man let me across the river once doesna mean he’ll welcome me again.” I could feel the sweat of fear breaking out on the back of my neck all over again. What a coward I was! I could practically feel the yellow streak spreading on my back!
“If God wanted to strike ye dead, Cadi Forbes, I reckon he could do it right here and now on this very porch.”
“There’s a comfort, Miz Elda,” I said in a tone that near
matched her own.
“That’s the spirit,” she chuckled. “Go on, now. The longer ye worry a matter, the bigger it grows.”
Watchful, I headed down her hill. I only had a few more days before the moonlight would be but a mere white crack in the night sky. Mountain darkness was black as pitch before the new moon, and I wouldn’t be able to use a torch without the whole valley knowing my comings and goings.
The man of God rose as I waded across the shallows. Shivering, I walked up the bank and stood uneasy before him. “So you’ve come again.”
I blinked, uncertain, heart melting. “Where else can I go, sir, when ye be the one who’s come in the name of the Lord?”
“Sit then, child, and we will talk more.” He sat near the small fire. Glancing around, I hesitated, knowing firelight could be seen at a great distance. The man of God raised his head and looked at me. He had blue eyes, intense and burning. “Is it shame or fear that holds ye back?”
Biting my lip, I looked up toward the mountains round about and then hung my head. “Both, I reckon.” I dared another look at him. “My coming could bring harm to ye.”
“The will of God prevails.”
I crept closer, trying to hold somewhat to the shadows. “What is the will of God?”
“That you open your heart to Jesus Christ.”
I shuddered slightly, thinking of the sins I carried. Lowering my head, I couldn’t look at him. What would he think of me if he knew what I had done? Would he say God offered me salvation then? Or would he send me away before I heard all he had to say?
“The Lord longs to be gracious to you. He waits on high to have compassion on you.”
I shook my head, unable to believe mercy would be given if all was made known. Tears trickled down my cheeks, and shame held me silent.
“They that sow in tears shall reap in joy,” he said gently. “The sorrow that is according to the will of God produces a repentance without regret, leading you to salvation. You are here, child. What holds you back?”
“I’m unworthy.”
“No one is worthy. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Only Jesus is blameless and holy. Only he was never stained by a single sin. And he died for you. He died for all sinners so that we might be saved through faith in him.”
“But you can’t have sinned like I have. God sent you. You can’t have done anything so bad.”
“Before the Lord called me, I was a man of unclean lips. I was a man with an insatiable hunger for the treasures of this world. I sailed the seas in search of it and took bloody lucre as I could. I drank and brawled in watering holes in a dozen ports. I used women and left them and had not a care for anyone but myself. And then the Lord spoke my name. In the midst of a storm, he struck me down so that I could not move or speak. The ship’s purser put me in the care of one of the captives who had no value for ransom, a man of the cloth named Brother Thomas. He fed and bathed me and read aloud from the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and my soul drank the living water of Jesus Christ. God carved his Word into my heart and mind. When the ship made port in Charleston, my strength returned and God spoke to me again. He said, ‘Leave this ship and go into the high mountain valleys and speak the word of the Lord.’ And so I’m here, and here is where I will remain until God says otherwise.”
His story gave me hope. Perhaps I could tell this man the truth. Perhaps he would understand. Perhaps he could tell me what to do to make things right.
“Trust him,” Lilybet said, and I saw her standing just behind him. “What have you got to lose but the sins and sorrow that have plagued you for so long? Tell him what troubles your heart.”
“If I tell you—” my eyes filled with tears so that I couldn’t see his face or his expression—“will you promise not to hate me?”
“As the Lord has loved me, so will I love you.”
I bowed my head, anguish and guilt overflowing me. I was not sure of God’s love at all. Was it loving to send a man who sailed the seas up to the mountains to speak the word of God when all around him wanted him gone or worse? But I had reached the end of my road and knew no other way to go. And Lilybet was standing there, knowing all about me, and telling me to go on with it.
“I killed my sister.”
When he said nothing, I rushed on, the sins I had committed and kept locked within me tumbling out like water rushing through the Narrows and pouring over the falls. I could not stop them. “It was a cursed day from beginning to end. Elen wanted my doll, the doll my granny made me. She was crying and carrying on summat fierce because I wouldn’t let her play with it. She grabbed it and tried to pull it away from me, and I hit her. Mama said I should share, and I dinna want to. It seemed like no matter what I was playing with, Elen wanted it and I told Mama so. Mama said I was selfish and mean. Her saying that hurt my feelings so bad. It’d all been filling up and boiling in me—the resentment. I was so angry, I said I hated her and I hated Elen and I wished they was both dead. Mama slapped me. She ain’t never slapped me like that before. Slapped me so hard my ears were ringing and then she yanked my doll away. She said I dinna deserve to have it and gave it to Elen. She said I was old enough to stop playing with dolls anyway.”
I stared off into the darkness, remembering that horrible day and my anger so vividly it might just have happened.
“I ran away. I went to the river. And Elen followed me. I could hear her calling out to me. She said I could have my doll back. She said she was sorry. ‘Cadi,’ she kept saying, ‘Cadi, where are you? Where are ye, Cadi?’ And I wouldn’t answer her. I wanted to be as far away from her and Mama as I could get. So I went to the Narrows. I’d been told never to go there, but I’d been there lots of times. Whenever I was mad or wanted to be away from my sister that’s where I’d go. And I wanted to be alone that day. So I went across the tree bridge. When I got to the other side, I went down the trail you came up that day you came to our valley. And I sat by the pool below the falls.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry with the shame of telling.
“I never figured she’d follow me there or try to come across. But she did. She come after me. I looked up once and saw her standing in the middle of the tree bridge. I just looked up and saw her there. And I was still so mad, I wished she’d fall. I wished she had never been born. I thought maybe Mama would still love me . . . thinking if she was gone . . .”
I couldn’t say more. My throat closed up tight, my heart so heavy and cold, remembering Elen screaming, remembering Elen falling.
“It was my fault she fell. I wished it to happen! When I saw her fall, I stood up and screamed, but it was too late. She came down over the falls and went under them. I kept on screaming and screaming her name, hoping she’d come up, but she never did.”
The man of God rose and came around the fire. He sat down again and lifted me into his lap, his strong arms coming around me and holding me close as I sobbed.
“She fell and it was my fault! I wished her dead and she died. I wished Elen dead.”
He held me close and rocked me gently, and as he did, I found the strength to tell him how Papa and Iwan had dived into the pool, searching for Elen until they were exhausted, all the while Mama stood on the bank crying, her face like death. For the next few days, they walked the river, searching. They were gone a week. When they came back, Papa said they couldn’t find her. They gave up hope after that. Everyone knew Elen was dead. She was gone, and my family would not even have the smallest comfort of burying her body.
Papa had found my doll washed up on a bank. He gave it back to me. With no body to bury, there was no funeral and no stone for her in the family cemetery. So I found one I thought pretty. It took me days to roll it from the river and up the hill and inside the burying place.
Drained, I looked up at him. “Will ye tell God how sorry I am? Will ye ask him to forgive me?”
“You’ve only to ask him yourself, child. The Lord does not despise a broken and contrite heart. The Lord is compassionate and
gracious, slow to anger and abounding in loving-kindness. You’ve confessed your sins. Now, will you trust in him?”
I thought about it but a moment and decided. “Yes.”
“Well done. What’s your name, child?”
“Cadi Forbes.”
“Well, then, Cadi Forbes, do you accept Jesus Christ as your Savior and Lord?”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
“And will you give up and let go of your sins and leave them at the cross of Jesus? Will you let yourself be washed clean?”
“Please.”
“So be it.” He lifted me from his lap, stood, and held out his hand. “There’s one more thing to be done, and God will have the firstfruits of this valley.” He led me to the river, walking into a pool until the water was midway up his thighs. I had to hold tight to him or be swept away. “Lean into my arms, Cadi, that I might baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”
The icy water closed over my head, shocking my body briefly, before the man raised me up and set me on my feet again. I shivered with cold and exhilaration. My body felt charged like the air after a lightning strike. I wanted to shout but held quiet, knowing I’d only bring trouble down on our heads. The current was strong, and I held tight to the man of God as we made our way back to the bank.
“I have to go now.”
“You’ve more to learn.”
“I’ll be back.” Trembling with cold and excitement, I flung my arms around his waist and hugged him before I hurried back to the shallows and splashed my way across the river. As soon as I reached the other side, I ran. Blood pumping, legs pumping, I raced across the meadow and up the hill through the woods. I wanted to laugh, to shout, to sing out a song of deliverance.
Miz Elda was sitting in her rocker, waiting for me. “Well?” she said as I came panting breathless to the porch.
“It’s done!”
“What’s done?”
Clambering up the steps, I laughed breathlessly, tears running down my cheeks, and hugged her. “I’ve been saved, Miz Elda. I’ve been washed clean.”
“Ye’re wet is what ye are! Have ye lost yer senses swimming in the river at night? Leave go, child. Ye’re soaking me through.”
The Last Sin Eater Page 15