“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. Surprisingly, she nodded, and he maneuvered her toward the door. Were those tears on the old woman’s face? Probably his imagination.
He pulled Rayna close. “Don’t ever look back. You don’t have anything to worry about, Rayna. Put him out of your mind and don’t ever look back.”
He didn’t breathe until they were standing in the evening sun. Rayna’s expression was one of raw grief. Her broken heartedness conjured within him an astonishing desire to protect her. He tightened his arm around her shoulders just as an old man in a wheelchair rolled toward them.
“You leaving?” he asked.
Rayna nodded again.
“That’s something the devil never did,” he told them, shaking his head.
“I don’t understand. Are you talking about Raymond Mudwing?” she asked.
The old guy laughed. “Now that’s a good observation. I weren’t talking about him. I was talking about the real devil. Gotta always fight to keep him from gettin’ in us; he just hovers around, but now that you mention old man Mudwing, yeah, could be one and the same.” He moved away from them.
Trent shivered.
Chapter 9
Rayna attacked her work with new energy. She documented two rooms to Trent’s one. She dusted, shined, and buffed the furniture. Once he came in from a run to the store and found her rearranging the living area, plumping throw pillows until they looked brand new. He frowned and went back to his own work.
Her mind moved as fast as her hands: figuring, planning, praying, and wondering. At last, she knew what she must do. She had to leave Oklahoma City and start a productive life. She had to do exactly as Trent had said, walk away and never look back. She decided to leave the following weekend. Once she’d made a firm decision, sadness engulfed her like none she had ever known. What would the days be without Trent? She loved watching him when he didn’t know she was doing it. The way he bit his bottom lip and frowned at his paperwork made her smile. His tousled windblown hair made her want to finger it into place. She could hope he might follow her to New Orleans, but she knew that wasn’t possible: first because of the house and all the furnishings, but mainly because of Tiva. He steered clear of the doll. He refused to even look at it.
She and Trent had flirted and teased for weeks but ever since Tiva came, he kept his distance. Things were different. And now that he’d met her demented father, she suspected he wanted as little as possible to do with her. He probably looked at her and thought she’d likely inherit the crazy gene. She wasn’t so sure she hadn’t. Maybe insanity ran in her family.
She hadn’t mentioned it to Trent, but she knew that gray-haired woman played a part in her having Tiva. Why else would she be wearing a dress that exactly matched the doll’s crudely constructed clothing? Did that prove they had known Rayna was in town?
Yes, moving back to Louisiana would be the best place for a cursed woman and her cursed doll. A cursed, branded woman. She and Tiva would fit right in with the voodoo practicing types who hung out on Bourbon Street.
But first, she needed to see her father one more time, and today was the perfect day. Trent had been gone for almost an hour. She wanted to leave the house before he returned.
Rayna ran up the stairs two at a time. She quickly grabbed Tiva and stuffed her into an oversized bag, then hurried downstairs and out the back door. She’d walk the three blocks to the home. That would give her plenty of time to decide exactly what to say and plenty of time to cool off, weep, rant or rave when she returned. The old man was plenty mean; no telling what they might say to each other. One thing she was certain of: this time, he would not chase her away and he would not make her cry. How could he hurt her any more than he had? To her advantage, this time she had Tiva.
Cars were parked sporadically around the flat roofed, brick building. Out front, the same old men sat on benches and in wheel chairs. Rayna spoke to them, smiled cheerfully, tugged the front door open. A young woman sat at the sign-in desk.
Rayna spoke to her and signed her name. She lifted her eyes to see the tall gray-haired woman standing in the corner of the room, staring at her. She was the same woman who walked around their neighborhood. The same woman who had been in her father’s room. “Who is she?”
The girl lost her smile and nodded. “That’s Person. She has a few problems.”
Smiling, Rayna handed the girl the pen. “Don’t we all?”
Rayna made her way toward the foreboding woman who was again dressed in her Tiva dress. Standing directly in front of her, she waited for her to speak, but the older woman remained silent. Rayna took the initiative and introduced herself.
“I’m Rayna Mudwing Guilbeau. I like your dress. It’s just like Tiva’s.”
Unexpectedly, the woman smiled.
“You found her for me, didn’t you?” Rayna said.
A quick nod, but then she stared over Rayna’s shoulder. Her expression resembled that of a wary child. Rayna reached toward her and gently touched her arm. “Thank you for making her a new dress, and giving her back to me.” When Person nodded again, Rayna turned away and meandered down the hall. She didn’t want to push the woman. She seemed unstable. Another time, she thought. Every nerve in Rayna’s body screamed tension, anxiety, fear. Excitement. She’d found one more clue. Someone who could tell her about her past if her father wouldn’t. And she knew he wouldn’t.
Standing outside his room, she took a deep breath, knocked, and walked in.
“Go away!” His back was to the door. His loud voice rang strong and hateful. “I don’t want anything you got.”
Rayna made a point to sound cheerful, even though her heart pounded. “I’m not selling anything.”
He wheeled his chair around. “I thought I got rid of you the other day.”
“You thought wrong. I’m here for another visit.”
He made a horrible noise, deep in his throat. Rayna swore it was a growl.
“Would you like some water?”
“Don’t come in here acting like the dutiful daughter. You’re not mine. I never claimed you, and I never will.”
Rayna walked past him to a chair and plopped down.
“Don’t sit. You aren’t staying. I want you out of here.” He wheeled his chair as far away from her as he could.
“I’m sitting right here until I get answers. And you’re going to give them to me.”
He poked his face toward her. “You think you can force me to talk to you? To tell you things? You got another think coming, little girl. All I have to do is yell for Person, and you’ll be out on your ear or flat on your back.”
“Yell your head off. I’m not scared of Person. Tell me where my mother is.”
He laughed, bitterly, then looked at her and pretended to zip his lips. Rayna smiled at the childish act.
“I wonder if I get my sense of humor from you.”
“You get nothing from me. Nothing. You hear me?” He wheeled closer. “You belong to that two-timing, back-stabbing Davis Whiddon. After all I did for him—” He clamped his lips closed.
“So he was your friend? And he fell in love with Rosalie, my mother?” She watched him closely, wondering how old he really was. Even though he had deep wrinkles in his face, she had a feeling he wasn’t as old as he looked.
“Love. Love had nothing to do with it.” He spat the words at her as if they were distasteful.
She leaned toward him. “Then tell me. I want to understand what happened.” She pulled at her blouse. “I want to know why you did this to me.”
He wheeled even closer and leaned toward her. “To mark you. To make myself feel better. Women are good for nothing except to be used and abused.”
Her stomach turned. How could anyone be so cruel, so sick? “I wasn’t a woman. I was a child.”
“I shoulda stuffed you in a sack and tossed you into Hefner like I did that damn cat.” He laughed, slapped his knee as though he’d told a hilarious joke.
Angrily, curses pre
ssed against her throat, almost choked her. But she refused to sink to his level. As hurt and disappointed as she was, twice as much fury boiled inside her. At that very moment, she hated him. And she never in a million years thought she could hate anyone—especially her own father. This is the parent I yearned for when I was thirteen. This is the daddy I’d cried for. The thought sickened her. She wanted to pummel him with insults, anything that would wound him the way he’d wounded her. But she couldn’t. Instead, Rayna grabbed her bag and yanked the doll out. She shoved it toward him. “Do you remember Tiva?”
He fell back in his chair. As quickly as his wiry arms would move, he wheeled himself away from her. Or tried to. Rayna stood and moved toward him.
“I want to know everything. Talk now or you’ll find Tiva sitting in your lap.”
“Get that cursed thing away from me. It’s the reason I’m in this chair.” His voice cracked.
Her heart softened at the fear on his face, and how pathetic he looked trying to escape her. Oh, how she longed for a normal childhood. A normal father. She hugged Tiva to her. As much as she wanted to put her hand on his shoulder, tell him how much she loved him, she knew it would do no good. The only way to get what she wanted was to scare it out of him with Tiva. Rayna walked closer, forced herself to hold Tiva in his direction once more. “Care to tell me about it? How did Tiva cause you to be in that chair?”
“Person! Person!” he shouted.
“I saw her leave, so you’re on your own. Tell me about my mother. Did she leave you for Davis Whidden or did you run her off?”
“They married. That’s all I know. Get her away from me.”
“But what about me? Why would she leave without me? Why would she leave me all alone with you? Didn’t she care about me at all? ”
He stilled, his dark eyes darting from the doll to Rayna’s face. She suspected she’d said something that got his attention, though she had no idea what. Could she tempt him into talking?
“I’ll put her away if you talk to me.” To show good faith, she placed Tiva on an ottoman. She sat on the edge of it too, shielding Tiva behind her. He wheeled toward her, so close she could have reached out and touched him, given him a daughter’s sweet kiss on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, but how did you end up in a wheelchair?”
“Get away from me, girl. Leave me alone and get out of my life. If you want answers, go ask your sorry brother.”
Dizziness overcame her, her eyes blurred. His laughter made her want to put her hands over her ears. Through it all, she managed one more question. “I have a brother?”
****
Rayna stumbled out the front doors of Sun Meadows Senior Living Facility and into the sunlight. She collapsed onto a bench and let the tears flow, hugging her doll to her chest. She’d never had such a confrontation in all her life. She wasn’t a confrontational person. She felt overwhelmed by her actions, as well as the vehemence Raymond Mudwing felt toward her. He hated her so much he’d physically scarred her for life. He’d taken everyone from her. Even a brother. Where is he? Who is he? Did he know about her? Had he searched for her at all?
“Rayna?” The voice was soft. Familiar.
The moment he said her name, all the happenings during the past few weeks made sense, were crystal clear. She met his eyes. “You.”
He nodded. “Yes, me. Did he tell you?”
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
“He didn’t tell you anything?”
“No, Louis, he didn’t tell me anything.” Her voice rose. “No explanation whatsoever.”
She looked around to see if anyone heard her outburst, but oddly the porch was bare. When had the old-timers vacated the area? Had she looked so crazy, so insane that she’d frightened them away? Over the rumbling in her head, the ringing in her ears, she heard a voice. Louis was saying something. She cleared her mind and focused on him.
“I can take you to our mother as soon as you want to see her.”
Their mother? He would take her to their mother? “You have a relationship with our mother? The woman who chose her lover over her daughter. She’s here?” She dared not believe everything that was happening. Suddenly, she had a father, a brother, a mother.
“No, I don’t have a relationship with her. I—I haven’t seen her since she left us. I was waiting for you.”
He was waiting for her? But, she didn’t want to see her mother. Not yet. Not without knowing the whole story. She shifted on the bench. “I want answers, Louis. I want to know everything. Why would a mother leave her children? Why would a father brand his two-year-old daughter?” She rubbed her chest. “Why—”
He motioned toward the bench. “May I?” She scooted over, and he sat down beside her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the minute you came to the house. I thought it best that things evolve naturally.”
“Naturally? Are you kidding me? There’s nothing natural about any of this. Give me the real reason, Louis.”
He had the decency to look embarrassed about his choice of words. “Our family heritage isn’t one to speak about. Certainly not brag about. I didn’t know how much you’d remember or how you would feel about family, especially me.”
“I don’t remember anything. And I want to know it all. No matter how horrific it is. Nothing could be more traumatic than this.” She tugged at her blouse.
He rubbed his hand across his face. “That’s what I mean. I—I was there. I was forced to watch.” Tears popped into his eyes. He looked away. “I couldn’t help you, Rayna. I was barely six years old. I swear there was nothing I could do. Just scream and cry with you.”
Her eyes filled. “How did you know I was in Oklahoma City?”
He swiped his face again. “It’s a long story.”
“I don’t care how long it is. No more games, Louis. Tell me.” The tone of her voice startled her. She’d never been so forceful or sounded so angry.
Louis sighed. “I’ve been looking for you. I knew you were in Louisiana, but I had no idea where or what your name was. It never occurred to me they’d allow you to keep your first name.”
“They?”
“My—our father and Person.”
“Person, yes, I met her inside. Who is she? Raymond yells for her constantly. This time she didn’t come to his aid.”
Louis smiled. “Person raised me. On the one hand, she’s the kindest woman I’ve ever known, but on the other, she can also be the meanest.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“She takes everything we say literally.” He tapped a finger against his temple. “She’ll hear something said, a thought expressed, and she takes action. She just doesn’t always understand.”
Suddenly, an idea occurred. “Louis, someone shot at me. Do you think Person may have tried to kill me? Maybe Raymond suggested it?”
A look of panic crossed his face. “Person wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Why not? I’m nothing to her. Trent told me he’s been walking the neighborhood, asking questions about the house and the people who lived there. The other day an ambulance picked up a woman who gave him some information. Could Person have hurt that old woman for talking?”
He clenched his hands into fists, released, then clenched again. “How would she have known about that? How would Raymond have known?” He looked down at the ground. “That was probably a random break-in, a coincidence, but Rayna, Person wouldn’t hurt you because she’s your aunt. Person is our father’s little sister.”
She gasped and doubled over as if he’d punched her in the stomach.
“Are you okay?” He touched her shoulder but she jerked away, straightened. She shook her head. “I prayed for a family. When I was little, I prayed every night for my mama or daddy to show up and take me away. I looked for them everywhere I went—didn’t matter where. I always looked. I thought I’d recognize them the moment I saw them. But I wouldn’t have recognized them at all, would I? I had no idea what evil looked like
back then—or that I was part of it.”
“You weren’t—you aren’t part of it. You’re different.”
She laughed. The hysterical sound coming from her throat startled her. “I have a mom, a dad, a brother and an aunt. Anyone else I should know about?” Her family was growing. A bitter taste made its way into her mouth.
Rayna stood and paced the porch. “We’re one big happy bunch, aren’t we? How do you know Aunt Person wouldn’t shoot at me or harm the old neighbor? She could have been doing our father’s dirty work.”
Louis looked at the floor again. He didn’t speak.
“Whoever shot at me, she, or he, barely missed me.” Rayna rubbed her temple. “This sounds like some made-for-TV movie that’s nothing more than crazy, disconnected scenes. No transition.”
“Not if you’ve lived it,” he answered.
But she hadn’t lived it so there was no logic to the horrors that were happening. “I don’t understand, Louis. Why didn’t you just leave me alone and let me live my life?”
Louis touched her wrist, lightly at first, then wrapped his long tan fingers around it. “I wanted my sister. There hasn’t been a day I didn’t think of you.”
She found it odd that the shade of his skin blended with hers. She’d always believed she was Cajun, as dark as the people who raised her. How could she and Louis resemble to the extent they did, yet be so different? She pulled away from him. “I’m sorry, but don’t. You may have thought of me every day, but I didn’t think of you. You’re a complete stranger and there’s still so much I need to know. I feel evil around me and I don’t know why. Is it you? Is it Raymond and Person? Is it the house, the city?” She rubbed her forehead. “I desperately need to know what’s going on.”
He sat up straight. “I understand.”
“I doubt if you do. You’ve grown up with our father and knowing everything. You knew about me. You know where our mother is. You know how and why I was...branded. I never had those answers. I’ve only just learned why I was given away because I’m not his child.”
“If you want, we can do a paternity test.”
She nodded. “That day Trent and I first met you, why didn’t you tell me then that you’re my brother? Why the secrecy? Why the drama? You’re the one who sent the picture and Tiva, aren’t you?”
The Last Daughter (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) Page 8