The Last Daughter (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll)

by Ferguson, Jessica

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “If I like what I see, we’ll go back tomorrow. You go on to see the old guy and good luck.”

  “He hasn’t warmed up to me any but yesterday I learned that my mother had—to put it his way—chased him until she caught him and lived to regret it. I wonder if it’s true; I mean, about the chasing. I have no doubt she lived to regret it.”

  “I have to admit he’s a villain with a capital V. But he’ll warm up to you. I did.”

  “Ha-ha.” She tickled him under his nose with a long-stemmed rose. “You, mister, were warm to me the moment we met.”

  “You got that right, and I can’t wait to get warmer.” He caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. “I have to commend you. I don’t know if I could hang in there the way you are. Have you told him about the test yet?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t figured out exactly what to say.” She shrugged. “And maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t know.”

  He pulled her into his arms again. “I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to hurt him.”

  She fiddled with a button on his shirt, not meeting his eyes. “Don’t be silly, how could I hurt him? I don’t think being his real daughter will make any difference. The only thing he probably ever regretted was wasting the brand on someone who wasn’t a true Mudwing.”

  He raised her chin so she would meet his eyes. “Remember when Louis told us that Raymond and Person have a way of knowing everything?”

  She nodded. “I’ve thought of that too. He probably always knew...or if he didn’t, he does by now.”

  “I’m not trying to sound bitter, but I’m having a difficult time forgiving him. And just look at poor old Person. Unable or unwilling to speak. Of course, she’s lucky we didn’t file charges against her for shooting at us. For that matter, against both of them.”

  “Thank you for that. Louis doesn’t want to believe she did it.” She shook her head and sighed. “I shudder at the thought of her needing all those locks on the door. Who was she afraid of? Her brother or her own father? Everyone in the family probably.” She moved closer. “I’m amazed that you want to marry into my family.”

  “Just don’t try to move them in with us. Tiva is about all I can handle so your family living with us would be a deal-breaker.”

  Rayna laughed. “Oh, oh, aren’t you brave? Tiva is all you can handle? So, you really think you can handle Tiva?”

  “Poor choice of words, maybe even an exaggeration. Let’s just keep that between us two, okay?”

  “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Tiva will never know.”

  They kissed. Long and hard. Trent groaned in her ear. “I can’t wait until we’re married.”

  “Neither can I, and neither can Person. Things are changing with her. She may not speak but her eyes do. She’s smiling at me now and even waves when I walk through the door. And when I told her about the wedding—”

  “You told them?” he asked.

  Rayna shook her head. “Not Raymond. It doesn’t feel right to tell him. I mean, I don’t feel like sharing anything happy and wonderful with him.” She frowned. “Do you think that’s selfish of me? He’d just make crude, hateful comments, and I don’t want to hear them.”

  “It’s not wrong for you to feel that way. I’m just sorry you do.”

  “But when I told Person we were getting married in this house and that she could come to the wedding, she was so happy, then she changed and acted funny about it.” She pulled away and went back to the kitchen door to look into the living area. “I wonder if she doesn’t want me to get married in this house. I think it’s a good idea.”

  He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s a new beginning for you. It’s fitting.”

  “I’m glad you want to get married here, Trent. I feel like if we get married in this house, in this room, it’ll be like an exorcism of sorts.”

  “At first, after I learned about everything, I didn’t want this place. I wanted to burn it to the ground just because of your—” He placed his hand across her heart. “What he did to you. But now, I think it can help you heal. I do kind of wish your mom would come.”

  “Believe me when I say it doesn’t matter. I understand what she means about not returning to Oklahoma until Raymond Mudwing is dead. Anyway, I’m not sure I even want to meet her yet. Telephone conversations are enough. We’re strangers; we may always be strangers. Louis will give me away, and you have enough family for both of us.”

  He turned her around and folded her into his arms. “I’m ready to get you down on the second floor with me.”

  Rayna laughed. “What if I want you to come up to the third floor?”

  Trent put his face in her hair and whispered close to her ear. “I don’t want to say this very loud but...I thought we’d give that room to Tiva.”

  Chapter 12

  The sky never looked more beautiful. The breeze, just right. The air smelled clean. Rayna waved at people working in their yards or checking their mail. She stopped to chat with a tiny old woman who sat on a concrete bench right in the middle of a dead flower garden. The woman acted hungry for company so Rayna didn’t rush. After all, Raymond Mudwing didn’t care whether she came to visit him or not, and he certainly wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be there for the rest of his life.

  “You must have moved into the neighborhood while I was out of town visiting my son in Texas. There for quite awhile—” She waved her hand. “See, all my plants died. Here, sit, sit.”

  The old woman scooted over and Rayna sat beside her, clutching the roses. “I live in the three-story. You can see the top of it from here.”

  “The old Mudwing house? Why in the world would you wanna live there? Never a meaner man lived than that Raymond Mudwing. His entire family really.”

  She realized she could grow tired of hearing how mean her father was. All one had to do was mention the name Mudwing to get an earful. “So you’ve heard the gossip too?”

  “It’s not gossip when it’s fact. I knew the Mudwings all my life—we all grew up together over in Canadian County. Of course, where you live was the home place, but they spent time on the farm in the next county where I grew up. Sure wasn’t no accident that we ended up here in the same neighborhood. My husband thought Raymond Mudwing was a king. God rest poor Harold’s soul, and forgive everything he did for Raymond Mudwing.”

  “He worked for the Mudwing family?”

  “If you can call it work. I always believed—and I still do—that Raymond had Harold knocked off. Can’t prove it, of course, but lots of people who had dealings with the Mudwings ended up dead sooner or later. Sorry bunch. Sorry!”

  The woman was getting worked up. Rayna squirmed on the bench. Finally she stood on the pretense of looking at something in the flowers. She was certain the woman might take a swat at her if she admitted to being a Mudwing, but she wanted to ask questions. “So you knew all of them—Person and the boy, Louis?”

  “I knew every single one of them. Louis was a sweet little thing, always scrawny, and so proud of his little sister when she was born. Of course, I think Rosalie took her when she ran off. Don’t know why she married Raymond to begin with. All that Mudwing money probably turned her head. ’Course, he was a good looking man in a violent sort of way. I’m sure poor Rosalie got more than she bargained for. No doubt about that. But, it just wasn’t right she didn’t take the boy too. He was traumatized for the longest time. Why in the world would you buy that old house? Haven’t you heard the stories?”

  Rayna wrapped her arms around herself. “What stories?”

  “How the Mudwings always burn a heart into their family members? How the torture caused Person to lose her mind—of course, she’s pretty sane now from what I see, but she don’t talk. It’s a generational thing—all the Mudwings inherited evil. And Raymond was the meanest of ’em all. I think he was kept in a cage until he was ten or twelve. And once I saw his daddy beat him with a whip—saw it with
my own eyes. He was near grown then. Raymond yanked that whip out of his daddy’s hands and whipped his daddy bloody. Evil to the very core, they are. I can’t tell you how often I pray for poor Louis. Even now, when I think of him.” She shook her head several times. “Those sure are pretty roses. Who’re they for? All my plants died when I was out of state visiting my son.”

  Rayna calmed her pounding heart and swallowed at the lump in her throat before she answered. “I’m taking them to Person. Would you like some of them?” She gathered several of the roses and handed them to the woman who immediately put them to her nose and sniffed.

  “Oh, that’s so sweet of you. Poor Person. So you know her?”

  Rayna swallowed at her dry throat and wondered if she should confess. Once she told this woman who she was, the entire community would probably know. What would be the cost of being a Mudwing? Hadn’t she paid it already?

  “My name is Rayna. I’m Louis’ little sister. Person is my aunt.”

  The roses fell to the ground as the old woman’s hands flew to her face. “God forbid, child, you’re a Mudwing?”

  ****

  Rayna walked more slowly to the senior citizen center. She mulled over what the woman had told her. Sure, the old lady could be out of her mind, but Rayna didn’t think so. The Mudwing reputation wasn’t a good one. Lord, I pray I didn’t inherit the evil. She hoped Louis didn’t either. When she reached Sun Meadows, the old timers seated on the front porch spoke and seemed glad to see her. Some day she should sit and visit with them. They probably knew as much about the Mudwing family as the old woman did, but did she really want to know more?

  “Come to see that devil of a daddy?” one called out.

  “I’m trying to turn him into someone we can love,” she answered.

  The men laughed and one responded, “Good luck doin’ that.”

  Inside, Rayna signed her name in the register and spoke to the young woman who was friendlier each visit. She looked around the large sitting room. Person wasn’t in her customary corner, staring at everyone who entered the premises. “These are for Person. Is she here?”

  “Haven’t seen her in a while but I can put them in her room. You probably know she lives on premises...across from your...from Mr. Mudwing.”

  Rayna handed them over. “No, I didn’t know. How long has she lived here?”

  The girl looked surprised. “The Mudwings own this place.”

  What else did the Mudwings own and why had Louis neglected to share that bit of information? Here she’d been worried about the kind of care her father was receiving. Excellent care—obviously.

  She sauntered down the hall. When she knocked on her father’s door, she waited for his gruff voice to yell that he didn’t want whatever she was selling, but there was no sound. She knocked again, softer this time in case he was asleep. No response came, so she turned the door knob and tip-toed inside.

  His room was empty.

  “Hello?” she called. Maybe he was in the bathroom. She walked to its closed door and listened. “Anyone in there?” Nothing.

  Rayna’s skin prickled. Where could he be? He never left his room. Was he so ill that they’d called an ambulance to take him to the hospital? But surely the girl at the desk would have known. She hurried down the hall. “Raymond Mudwing. Where is he?”

  The young woman looked startled. “He’s not in his room? He never comes out.” Several attendants joined them. One picked up the phone to make a call. Rayna didn’t wait to learn to whom. She ran out the door. “Did you see Raymond Mudwing leave?” she yelled as she hurried past the old timers.

  “He never leaves,” said one.

  “Never,” another added.

  Rayna ran, and kept running. Deep down in her soul, she knew something wasn’t right. The neighborhood was hilly. She’d been happy that the senior citizen center was so close, but now, as she huffed and puffed across streets and up sidewalks, it seemed incredibly far away. She wished she’d driven. Still more than a block away from the house, she heard sirens. Dark gray puffs of smoke billowed across the sky.

  No. Oh, dear God, no.

  Her heart pounded. Her dry throat constricted; she coughed and gagged. As she rounded the second block, a fire truck sped past her, siren blasting.

  Almost there. Almost.

  Tears blurred her eyes when she saw the crowd standing, watching. Finally she reached them. She scanned the faces. Trent wasn’t among them. Maybe he was still in town looking at property. When she dared to lift her eyes to the three-story structure she called home, she saw flames spitting from the windows. And there was his truck, parked in its customary spot, beside her car.

  People stood everywhere. She pushed past neighbors she didn’t know, a few people she’d waved at earlier. They stood and gaped.

  “Trent? Has anyone seen—?” Her blurry eyes caused her to stumble. She gave into her sobs and then let herself go, released the screams that pressed against her chest. She ran toward the burning house.

  Someone caught her arm and pulled her hard. She fought. “Let me go. I have to find him—please.”

  She struck out, made contact with soft flesh, no doubt someone’s face.

  “Ouch! Rayna! Don’t fight me. It’s too late to save it.”

  She stilled, blinked the tears from her eyes, tried to focus. “Trent. Oh, thank God. Trent.” She threw herself against him and held him tight.

  Trent pulled her close and tried to turn her away from their burning home. “No, please, maybe we can...”

  “It’s too late, Rayna. Too late.”

  Forceful streams of water from the hoses criss-crossed the flames, but Trent was right. It was too late. The house, at least a hundred years old, reduced to ashes. Everything they owned was inside.

  “He did this to us. He probably hoped we were inside. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “Raymond. He wasn’t at Sun Meadows. He was gone. Doing this.”

  Trent shook his head. “But Rayna, how could he?”

  A voice shouted. “Look! Someone’s in the backyard.”

  Movement near the south corner of the house caught her eye. Collectively, the crowd gasped, then cheered as they saw life emerging. From the ashes? It appeared so.

  Taking long methodical strides, as was her custom, Person walked toward the bystanders, nodding as if keeping tune to her favorite song. The crowd hushed and watched as the gray-haired woman strode toward them. Her favorite dress—the one with tiny blue cornflowers—blew against her legs in the Oklahoma wind. Her eyes settled on Rayna and Trent among the bystanders, and her sweet, innocent grin grew larger and played around her wide lips. She looked so happy to see them.

  And clutched tightly to her chest was Tiva.

  ****

  Morning came too soon. The dark motel room was a needed escape from the horror Rayna experienced the afternoon before. Now she slumped over a Styrofoam cup of coffee down in the breakfast area. Louis sat across from her. From the dark circles beneath his eyes, he’d been up all night. Rayna suspected Trent, who had stayed with Louis, didn’t look any better. Trent hadn’t been happy about leaving Rayna and Tiva in the hotel alone, but finally, he’d relented. She was glad. She’d cried more than she’d ever cried in her life. She’d wept for the family she’d dreamed about that didn’t exist, and the family she’d found that hadn’t lived up to her expectations. At times she’d feared management might knock on her door, tell her she was disturbing the other guests. She hadn’t wanted Trent to see her in such a state, though she suspected the moment he laid eyes on her he’d know exactly what kind of night she’d had.

  According to Louis, he was meeting with his insurance agent.

  “Thank God he had insurance and that he’d taken pictures of everything.”

  Rayna agreed, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she rubbed her face and eyed the pastries on the counter. She didn’t feel like eating, yet she was certain she needed something. She stood and s
huffled toward the oatmeal. Within seconds, she’d nuked a bowl and sat back down, but now the mushy stuff turned her stomach. She pushed it away.

  “I knew him less than a month, and now he’s gone.” The thought of her father dying in such a violent way was almost unbearable. She didn’t want to think about it, yet she couldn’t force it from her thoughts.

  “Don’t mourn him, Rayna. He would only ridicule you for it.”

  He was right. They didn’t have any kind of relationship and probably never would have, but still, she’d wanted to try.

  “I wanted him to know that I was his real flesh and blood daughter. I wanted to see his face when I told him.”

  Louis put his hand over hers. “Oh, Rayna, he knew. Believe me, he knew.”

  A large wall clock ticked at the other end of the room. It sounded so loud, Rayna wanted to silence it. The annoying repetitious tock, tock, tock seemed like a death throng. She couldn’t help the tears that squeezed from her eyes. “How do you know he knew? He never admitted it.”

  “He branded you, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t known you’re a real Mudwing. Believe me. He was tormenting our mother. And he tormented you.”

  A sob caught in her throat. “Was he that terrible?”

  He put his hand on hers. “A thousand times worse,” he whispered.

  She mopped her face with a napkin. “What’s going to happen to Person?” she asked, shifting mental gears. Person had been taken away by law enforcement officers after handing Tiva to Rayna. She’d smiled so sweetly, so innocently, Rayna was certain she didn’t have a clue what was happening to her or that she’d committed murder.

  Louis tapped his thumb on the table. “She’ll remain in custody and a psychiatric evaluation will be done.”

  “How can they question her if she can’t talk? How can they get answers? In spite of what she did, that doesn’t seem right.”

  “She can communicate. She hears, she understands, she can print; she just doesn’t rationalize between right and wrong. In her mind, she was doing right. She saved you.”

  Rayna couldn’t quit weeping. She’d cried herself to sleep and started crying again when she awoke—hugging Tiva to her the entire night. “We don’t know that for certain.”