Jed's Sweet Revenge

by Deborah Smith

  Beneba Everett radioed one windy afternoon that she was coming to dinner, and they took Thena’s rattling, lurching truck to the dock to meet her. Jed politely held his laughter as her small motorboat bounced toward them. Buffeted by the wind, it looked like a drunken water beetle.

  When the beetle finally bobbed next to the dock, Beneba refused Jed’s helping hand and clambered out with a spryness that amazed him. The elderly black munchkin hugged Thena and after Thena’s introduction, grunted a hello to him in her low Gullah accent. Then she plopped a basket full of string beans and her personal belongings into his arms.

  As she paraded to the truck, Jed stared after her. Beneba was comical but innately dignified, with eyes that held an ethereal light. Old gal probably had cataracts, Jed decided, and that accounted for the eerie blue-white cast to those dark peepers. Her bare feet churned the sand with youthful vigor, and her kinky gray hair bounced in a long braid. Her coffee-colored skin was wrinkled, her arms and legs lithe, and her oversized print dress had a wild gardenia pinned to one shoulder.

  She was sort of a wild gardenia herself, he decided. And she had the commanding manner of an ancient sage. “Yoda,” Jed whispered to Thena out of the corner of his mouth.

  “What is a ‘Yoda’?” she whispered back.

  “Aw, I’ve gotta get you some current movies, gal.” Grinning, he hoisted the basket to his shoulder.

  After they reached the house, Beneba puckered the entirety of her dark face around a clay pipe and spent every spare minute squinting at Jed in an assessing way. He secretly renamed her Popeye and squinted back.

  The three of them sat on the porch shelling beans, and even he, with his taciturn nature, was surprised by the lack of conversation. Beneba seemed perfectly content to absorb life rather than comment on it, and after awhile he realized that he liked her, despite her shrewd squint.

  She adored Thena, that was obvious in the way she patted and hugged and smiled at her, and Jed could see that the feeling was mutual. It worried him, because he wondered how Thena could leave the ancient black woman, her adopted grandmother, behind. Hell, he’d cart the old gal out to Wyoming and set her up in a fancy house near his and Thena’s, if that’s what it’d take to make Thena happy.

  Thena put the string beans on to cook for dinner. In the interim, Beneba pulled a bottle from her basket and gave Jed a glass of homemade dandelion wine so strong that the huge, unsuspecting swallow he took made his eyes water. “Hah,” she snorted, as he blinked rapidly in the wine’s aftermath. “His face is red. He wants to cough, but he has too much pride. Maybe that’s not a good sign. Too much pride could be his heartbreak.”

  He’d been tested, and he knew it. “Ma’am, I’ve had grain alcohol that didn’t taste this strong. This stuff would burn the hide off a full-grown elephant. Pride’s got nothin’ to do with my not coughin’. My lungs are shriveled up.”

  She laughed, obviously considering that a compliment, and afterwards squinted at him with a degree of approval, he thought. They ate a dinner of new potatoes, fried fish, cornbread, and the fresh-cooked beans, then sat on the porch again and watched twilight cover the moss-draped forest with mysterious shadows. Beneba smoked her pipe and pumped herself back and forth in the largest of Thena’s four rockers. Thena sat in one next to her, and Jed settled at Thena’s feet. She stroked his hair affectionately, and he leaned against her bare legs with sleepy devotion.

  He wore only the white pants, but wished he wore nothing at all, so that every inch of his body could bask in the warm, caressing air. If Beneba hadn’t been visiting, he and Thena would be sitting here naked. Nakedness—“nekkidness,” as Thena said when she imitated him—was their accustomed state on many occasions, both in and out of bed.

  But for now. Thena wore floppy blue shorts and a 1950s bathing suit top that had belonged to her mother. Its rigid modesty didn’t suit her. he thought, but its innocence did. He smiled with a sense of peace and happiness that swelled his chest.

  “You,” Beneba told him abruptly, “are a blessed man. I see it on your face. I hear it in the rhythm of your breath. This place has taken your heart.”

  Jed looked up into her sharp, wise eyes. “No,” he corrected politely. He wasn’t going to risk Yoda’s wrath, but he wasn’t going to listen to any mumbo jumbo about the island, either. He nodded toward Thena. “This woman has taken my heart.” Her fingers pressed deeply into his hair in loving response.

  “Thena and the island are the same. You love one, you love the other.” Beneba let pipe smoke curl lazily toward the porch rafters. “You leave one, you leave the other.”

  Jed frowned uneasily. “I’m not gonna leave Thena.”

  “You will leave Sancia, and you will leave Thena. I have dreamed it.”

  Jed cursed silently as Thena’s fingers stiffened against his scalp. “What makes you say such an awful thing, Grandmother?” she demanded.

  “Because it’s true, child. Your man won’t admit that he has taken this place into his heart. He’ll make himself leave one day, because he’s stubborn and full of blind hate for his grandfather. I can only pray that he’ll be smart enough to come back.”

  “You don’t mince words, do you,” Jed said in a stern voice. He leaned forward and hooked his arms around his updrawn knees, his blissful mood ruined. “But you don’t know me well enough to tell my future.”

  “I know you. I know what you come from, because I was your mother’s nursemaid.”

  Both Jed and Thena looked at her in shock. “You never told me, Grandmother,” Thena murmured numbly. “Why not?”

  The thin shoulders shrugged. “Old memories are best saved for appropriate times. I saved this one for this moment.” Her ghostly eyes bored into Jed’s. “I watched your mother being born. I helped raise her. Hardly a day went by for ten years that she and I weren’t together. Ten years, until your grandmother was killed in the hurricane. Then your grandfather cursed this island to hell and took your mother away with him.”

  Her eyes gleamed in a way that made goose bumps run up Jed’s arms. “And now you’re here to complete the circle,” she added. “You can bring back hope; you can lift the curse.” She paused, her aura so hypnotizing that even the night insects seemed to have stopped singing, to listen. “I want to see your mother’s grandchildren grow up here. Your children. Yours and Thena’s.”

  Jed’s stomach twisted in anger. “This island isn’t some sort of magical shrine, and I’ve had all I can take hearin’ about it. No child of mine and Thena’s is gonna grow up here in the shadow of old man Gregg’s dreams. He doesn’t deserve that kind of honor.”

  “Jedidiah?” Thena whispered in a bewildered, wounded tone. “Is Beneba right? Are you going to leave?”

  He twisted around and slowly grasped one of her hand in his. Even in the dimming light, he could read the fear in her silver eyes. Jed fought to make his voice sound light and teasing. “Now, gal, do you really think an island is the right place for a quarter horse ranch?”

  She stared at him desperately. “There’s plenty of room here for your horses, Jedidiah. Sancia is six miles long, remember. It’s huge. And—”

  “And it’s beautiful, I know. It’ll always be beautiful, and we’ll enjoy it every time we come to visit.”

  “Visit? You mean you want me to live somewhere else?”

  “I want you to live in Wyoming. We’ll take the dogs and Cendrillon and any of the other horses you want.” Her hand was cold and trembling. He grasped it harder, urgency gnawing at him. Again he tried to sound lighthearted. “Sweetheart, all the spirits you believe in here—they’re your spirits, not mine. They’d just as soon spit in my eye as look at me.”

  “Your grandfather loved your mother,” Beneba interjected. “He loved you. He didn’t do by halves—he loved with all his soul. I saw that, time and time again, for years, and I know you judge him too harshly. He was a stubborn man—that I know too. He made mistakes. But he would never let his child, his little Amanda, die. If he had known she n
eeded help—”

  “He drove her away, he didn’t ask how she got along, he didn’t want to know, he let her die,” Jed said curtly. “Then he tried to take me away from my old man, who—God knows—didn’t have anything left but me.”

  Thena stroked Jed’s hand anxiously. Her voice was tearful and begging. “Don’t you see, Jedidiah, that you were all your grandfather Gregg had left too? He wanted his little grandson, who was the only bit of Amanda and Sarah who still lived. He loved you.”

  Jed pulled his hand away from hers and stood up. The light was nearly gone now, and the night was turning as black as his anger. He paced the porch, his hands clenched. “And when he couldn’t get me on his own terms, we never heard from him again. That shows how damn little he really cared.”

  Beneba’s voice was calm and low. “Wyoming State Rodeo Association, Junior All-Around Champion, 1974,” she recited. Jed stopped pacing and looked at her in tense surprise. Thena, bewildered too, watched Beneba silently.

  “How did you know that about me?” Jed asked the elderly woman.

  She blinked slowly and let more pipe smoke waft upward before she answered. “Your grandfather didn’t forget his little girl’s nanny. He left me some money and some treasures—picture albums and scrapbooks about Amanda. And Amanda’s son.” She paused to concentrate on rocking for a moment. “Every time you got your name in the paper for anything, your grandfather knew it. You goin’ rodeo in Texas and get written in the paper there, he gets a copy. You goin’ rodeo in Canada and get written in the paper there, he gets a copy. I think he pays somebody just to keep track of what you do in the world.” She puffed her pipe again and tilted her little face up impishly. “You come to my house anytime, I’ll show you the picture books.”

  Jed stared at her speechlessly, his jaw working. “I didn’t know,” Thena murmured beside him. “Grandmother, you should have told me.”

  “I waited to tell Jed, first. I know when the time is right.”

  Jed tried to regain control of his emotions. He walked to the edge of the porch and stood with his back turned, one hand braced on a rough-hewn column that supported the roof. Thena rose and went to him, her heart aching. She studied his expression fervently, trying to read it in the dark.

  Behind them, Beneba recited other milestones in Jed’s rodeo career—not an illustrious career, but one that had gotten his name mentioned in dozens of small papers across the western United States. It was odd to hear Beneba using terms such as “bull dogging” and “bronc riding,” Thena thought with nervous humor.

  Thena touched Jed’s shoulder. “We should go see these scrapbooks,” she urged gently. “They’ll change your mind about your grandfather. He must have loved you so.”

  An eternity passed before he looked at her. “Nothin’,” Jed told her in a deadly, slow voice, “is ever goin’ to change what happened to my mother. He waited too long to do anything decent. She was already dead.”

  Thena was careful not to sound rebuking. “She was too proud to ask for help, Jedidiah. You said so yourself, once.”

  “Because he was so against her for marryin’ my pa. Can you blame her for not crawlin’ to her daddy after the way he’d acted about the marriage?”

  “But he would have helped her, Jedidiah. That’s the point. Despite everything, he would have helped her. He doesn’t deserve so much anger on your part.”

  He sighed and gently placed one square, rough hand against her cheek. His thumb caressed the soft skin with tender care. “I gave you this island, Thena. Believe me, I had to give up a lot of my anger when I did that.”

  “I know, and I’m proud of you. Now give up the rest.”

  “I hear what you’re sayin’ about old Gregg really bein’ sorry for what happened. Maybe it’s so and maybe it isn’t.” He paused. “I’m more worried about your feelin’s for this island than I am about the mysterious brand of love—whatever it was—my grandpa had for my mother and me.”

  “You don’t have to be worried about my feelings, Jedidiah. Just stay here and—”

  “Sweetheart, I can’t live here. I haven’t got it in me to love this place the way you do. Maybe I feel like I’m trespassin’ on Gregg property.”

  “But you’re a Gregg,” she said in a beseeching tone.

  “No, I’m not. I might have the blood, but not the background. I don’t belong here.”

  “You do, you do. Jedidiah, this place is where I belong, you know that. How can you ask me to leave it?”

  He rebuked her, but gently. “Gal, you haven’t ever seen anything else of the world. You don’t know what’s out there on the mainland. There are other places you’d love just as well as this.”

  “No.” Her voice trembled with controlled sorrow. “My parents and Nate died because they went to the mainland. I have a bad knee because I went to the mainland. People there are too hurried, too interested in unimportant things—”

  “Things that aren’t important to you, you mean,” he prodded in his soft-spoken but firm way. His hand still cupped her face, trying to soothe her. “You gotta visit my world, sweetheart. Don’t you think that’s only fair? Just to see how things really are outside of your National Geographics?”

  Thena felt like a trapped bird. Her pulse racing, she whispered, “I’m afraid, Jedidiah.”

  “I know, pretty lady, but I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Will you go—for a visit, at least?”

  Beneba’s soft voice interrupted him. “Tasoneela go with Gabel, and he brought her back when she was unhappy. Will you do the same for Thena?”

  Jed’s eyes locked on Thena’s. “Yes,” he promised.

  Thena spoke wistfully. “How long will we have to stay in Wyoming?”

  “Sweetheart, we won’t just go to Wyoming. We’ll go all sorts of places. Wherever you’d like to go. Anyplace you’ve dreamed about.”

  “Go, child,” Beneba ordered smugly. “I’ll look out for your animals. You should see other places, because then you’ll come back loving your island even more. And maybe, if your man is smart, he’ll come back with you. I hope so.”

  Thena’s eyes shut tightly. She swayed a tiny bit, and Jed took her in this arms. “You’ll have so much fun you’ll wonder why you never wanted to travel before,” he assured her.

  “I’m really ignorant about some things, Jedidiah. I’ve never ridden on a plane, I’ve never been in an elegant restaurant, I’ve never seen a big city.…”

  “Well, gal, I’m not Cary Grant, but I got the worldly smarts to take care of anything that might come up. Relax.” She placed both hands on his bare chest and tilted her head back, looking thoughtful and distressed. “Now tell me some places you’ve always wanted to visit,” he urged.

  Tentative enthusiasm tinged her voice. “Disneyland?”

  He chuckled. “All right. Where else?”

  Her eyes widened. “Hollywood?”

  “Shoot, yeah!” He exhaled in relief. “I was afraid you’d say someplace weird.”

  Beneba’s voice, dry and flat, came to them. “I read the National Enquirer. Hollywood is weird.”

  Jed shook his head in amusement. “Enquiring Yoda’s want to know,” he deadpanned under his breath. To Thena he said, “We’ll rent a big ol’ car, drive to Atlanta, and get on a plane for California. After we visit there a few days, we’ll go to Wyoming for a week or so.” His eyes flickered with sudden inspiration. “Let’s go ahead and leave tomorrow. I don’t want you sittin’ around here frettin’ over it. The sooner we go, the better.”

  “Tomorrow?” She began to shake. He held her tighter and pressed her head to his shoulder.

  “You’ll love it,” he crooned.

  “I’m doing this because I love you, Jedidiah. I’d never leave Sancia otherwise.”

  “Not even for two weeks? Two itty bitty weeks? Lord, woman, you’re a tough cookie to crumble.”

  “You want me to stay away from Sancia forever.”

  He ignored a guilt pang. “Aw, gal, I never said that. I love
you too much to ask you to do that. I just want you to give my world a chance before you make up your mind about where’s the best place to live.”

  Jed pressed his cheek to her forehead and shut his eyes as he absorbed the dear and familiar scent of her, the feel of her clinging to him, and the way her heart pattered against his chest. Concern for her made him feel a nauseating dread that he couldn’t define.

  A suffocating tension caught his breath. It made no sense, this feeling. The bile rose in his throat as he tried to understand where such an odd … almost a premonition … came from. God, no, he thought quickly, fearfully. It wasn’t a premonition. He didn’t believe in premonitions.

  Craziness, that’s what this feeling was. The pull of this damn fairy-tale place with its old mansion and Thena’s talk of spirits and Beneba’s bizarre eyes. What had happened to his practical, sensible nature? The ugly sensation of dread passed, and he shivered as if recovering from a bad fever. His stomach relaxed and he could breathe again. There, that was better. What the hell had happened to him for a moment?

  “Jedidiah? Love?” Thena’s pained and frightened voice pierced his thoughts. She was gasping for breath. “You’re holding me too tight, Jedidiah. How can I travel if I have crushed ribs?”

  Showing Thena the world was going to be a unique experience, Jed decided with a rueful smile. On the drive up to Atlanta, she played with every button, knob, and lever in the ritzy Oldsmobile he had rented. When they stopped for lunch at the Dixie Dog Restaurant and Gift Shop, she spotted a display of the tacky coconut heads that plagued every tourist trap on the interstate.

  She loved them. Jed was dumbfounded, but eager to please her, so he bought her two of the ugly things and winced when the cashier cheerfully pointed out that they were the first people to buy coconut heads since a tour bus full of Kiwanians had passed through, and that was six months ago.

  And further up the highway, at a convenience store, she bought a copy of a glitzy women’s magazine named Lovers. She bent her head over the glossy pages and read solemnly as he drove.