Stage Fright / Goodbye, Sweet Prince / Brotherly Love

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Stage Fright / Goodbye, Sweet Prince / Brotherly Love Page 19

by Catherine Marshall


  Christy sat down on George’s bed. “All right. I’m listening.”

  “Just then, you sounded exactly like Father,” George said quietly. “You’re not my parent, you know.”

  “I’m your sister, George. I love you. I’ll stand by you, if you will just help me understand what’s going on.”

  George stared at his reflection in the small mirror mounted over his dresser. “I’m a man now, Christy. I have to take responsibility for my actions.”

  For the first time, Richard spoke up. “I believe I’m the one who’s supposed to say that line.”

  “What do you mean, Richard?” Christy asked, surprised.

  Richard turned to face Christy. He bit on his lower lip to keep from crying. “I’m the one who’s not taking responsibility for his actions.”

  “Richard . . .” George said in a low, warning voice.

  “I have to tell her, George. I have to clear my conscience.”

  “Don’t be a fool! The damage is already done—”

  “Miss Huddleston,” Richard said in a choked voice, “George didn’t take that money from the headmaster’s office. I did.”

  Fourteen

  You?” Christy exclaimed.

  “Don’t listen to him, Christy,” George began, but Richard waved him aside.

  “I’m ashamed to admit it, but yes, I’m the one,” Richard said then lowered his head in shame. “I sneaked into the headmaster’s office by picking the lock on his door.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t so hard, really.”

  “But I don’t understand.” Christy frowned. “Why did George say he took the money?”

  “Because he was trying to be a good friend,” Richard said. “He was wrong to cover for me that way, but he meant well.” Richard slumped onto the bed next to Christy. “You see, George knew how short my family is for cash. I’m on a full scholarship at the academy.” He smiled crookedly. “Even my clothes are hand-me-downs. George gave me this jacket and these pants.”

  “Richard,” George said, his voice softened, “you don’t have to tell my sister all this.”

  “But I want to, George, don’t you understand? There’s nothing worse than carrying around a terrible secret like this.”

  Christy touched Richard’s shoulder. She was surprised that he was trembling. “Go on, Richard.”

  “Well, George figured if I were expelled for taking the money, I wouldn’t ever be able to get into another school. Who’s going to give a scholarship to someone who’s been expelled for stealing?”

  Christy looked at her brother sharply. “But doesn’t the same logic apply to you?”

  “Maybe.” George gave one of his I-can-handle-anything smiles. “But I have a way of landing on my feet, Sis. And Richard—well, he’s got a lot to deal with right now. His father worked for the railroads, but he hurt his back last year. Richard has three younger sisters, and the family’s pretty hard-up for money.”

  Richard shook his head. “I should have quit school and gotten a job to help my family a long time ago. But my parents insisted that I finish school. They said that way I could get a good job later on, a real one.” He paused, looking a little embarrassed. “I always thought I might become a doctor. You know—to help people like my father.”

  “I know how hard it must be for you and your family, Richard,” Christy said gently. “I’ve seen poverty here in Cutter Gap that I never even imagined could exist. But I’m sure you realize it doesn’t justify taking money that doesn’t belong to you.”

  Richard started to speak, but George stepped in. “Christy, Richard’s little sister broke her leg a few months ago. They didn’t have the money to have it set properly, and the leg didn’t heal correctly. Now she’s in constant pain, and the only thing that can help her is surgery.”

  “Surgery,” Richard added, “that my father simply can’t afford.”

  “Oh,” Christy said. “I see.”

  “The doctors said if they had enough money for a first payment, they’d go ahead with the surgery.” Richard wiped away a tear. “I thought . . . well, I know I was wrong, but I thought if I could help Abigail, it’d be worth any cost. I guess I didn’t really think things through.”

  “I told you not to worry,” George said brightly. “I’ve got everything under control.”

  “No, you don’t, George. I should have listened to you that night,” Richard said. He turned to Christy. “After I told George what I’d done, he tried to talk me into turning myself in. He said the headmaster would understand, and that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I kept the money. But then the headmaster’s assistant came to our dormitory door . . .”

  “What did he say, Richard?”

  “He said that somebody had seen George and me in the area that night. That’s true, Miss Huddleston. I told him I wanted to take a walk, and he headed back to our room. But George didn’t have any idea what I was planning. George is completely innocent. You have to believe me.”

  Christy glanced at her brother. “I do.”

  “And when George spoke up and said he’d taken the money, I just went numb,” Richard continued. “After he left, I wrote him here, since he’d told me this was where he was heading first. I told him how badly I felt about everything.”

  “But what’s done is done, Richard,” George said. “I’m going off to New York City to seek my fame and fortune, and you, my friend, are going to go straight back to school.

  Someday, I’ll be a famous writer and you’ll be a famous doctor, and we’ll get together over dinner and laugh about all this.”

  George’s words hung in the air. Richard slowly shook his head. “No, George. That’s not what’s going to happen. What is going to happen is that I’m going to go back to school—with you—to tell everyone the truth.”

  “And what about Abigail?” George quickly shot back.

  Richard didn’t have an answer, but Christy did.

  “If Abigail loves her brother as much as I love mine,” she said, “then I don’t think she’d want him to make this kind of sacrifice for her.”

  “There’s no point in going back,” George argued. “The headmaster won’t let me off. He’ll say that since I knew about Richard’s crime, I should have turned him in right then and there instead of covering for him.”

  “But you tried to talk me into turning myself in!” Richard cried.

  “It doesn’t matter.” George shook his head. “What point is there in both of us getting expelled? This way, at least you’ll have a chance to finish school.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” Richard replied. “Besides the truth will come out anyway when I return the money.”

  “You have to tell the truth and clear the air, George,” Christy said. “It’s the only way. I’ll go with you, if you like.”

  George hung his head. “This is all such a mess. I just wanted to help. . . .”

  “Things might just work out better than you’ve imagined,” Christy said. “You never know. I’ve seen some real miracles since moving here to Cutter Gap.”

  “I don’t know, Sis. I think it’s too late. I don’t think I can go back there now. I couldn’t face everyone after all the lies I told. Especially Mother and Father.”

  “Trust me, George. I’ll help you get through this.” She squeezed his hand. “Remember that leap into the water I took, back when we were children? Well, it’s time for your leap of faith.”

  Fifteen

  Personally, Christy,” said Miss Ida, “I don’t see why you’re going to the academy with your brother. After what he did, perhaps he should face the music himself.”

  Dinner was over, and Richard and George were upstairs. By now, everyone knew the whole story, which Christy had explained. All through dinner, Richard and George had sat quietly, avoiding all eyes. The conversation had been polite, except for a few intrusive questions from Ruby Mae. Still, both boys had barely touched their food.

  But now that Richard and George were safely out of earshot, everyone seemed to
have an opinion to share with Christy.

  “Seems to me when a young man lies to his own flesh and blood, the last thing he deserves is a second chance,” Miss Ida said as she cleared the dining room table.

  “But George meant well, Miss Ida,” Christy argued. “I’m not defending the fact that he wasn’t honest with us, but he did mean well.”

  Miss Ida clucked her tongue. “That boy deserves to be punished, if you ask me.”

  Christy went out onto the porch, where David, the doctor, and Miss Alice were sitting. “Miss Ida thinks I’m being too gentle with George,” she told them. “How about the rest of you?”

  “Well, as it happens, we were just discussing that very matter,” said the doctor.

  Christy leaned against the porch railing. The wind was gentle on her face, and sweet with pine. “And what was your conclusion?”

  “In the end, the only thing that matters is your conclusion, Christy,” said Miss Alice.

  “I just keep thinking of Luke 6:31,” Christy said softly. “‘As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.’ If I were in George’s shoes, I would want him to stand by me at a time like this. After all, I’m his sister. I love him.” She looked at Miss Alice. “Isn’t that what it all comes down to?”

  Miss Alice smiled her lovely, luminous smile. “I think you’ve already answered your own question.”

  The next day they reached El Pano after a long, tiring walk. After spending the night at a boarding house, Christy insisted that they stop at the general store first thing the next morning.

  “Shouldn’t we be going straight to the train station?” George asked, consulting his pocket watch.

  “We have plenty of time,” Christy said. “Not much money, but plenty of time.”

  “I promise I’m going to pay you and George back every cent you’re lending me,” Richard vowed.

  “Don’t you worry about it,” Christy replied. “We’re glad to help.”

  Richard wrung his hands together. “I already owe you and George so much. And Doctor MacNeill, too. Did I tell you he said he was going to make some inquiries about my sister’s surgery? He said he had some doctor friends who might be able to help.”

  “He also said not to get your hopes up,” George reminded him gently.

  “Still, for him to even try . . . well, it’s awfully nice of him.”

  “So,” George said to Christy, “did you want to buy something here at the store?”

  Christy pointed to the telephone in the corner of the cramped store.

  “Not buy. Call. Miss Alice told me that the owner will let us use their telephone, since the one at the mission isn’t working.”

  “A call?”

  “To Mother and Father.”

  George took a step backward. “I can’t do that, Christy.”

  “You have to. Mother and Father are worried sick about you.”

  “They’re more angry than worried.” George looked past her. “I . . . I’m not like you, Christy. You’re the one they’re always proud of. The one they can count on. Me, I’m just the family clown.”

  Christy couldn’t help smiling. “You know what’s ironic, George? That’s just the reason I’ve always been so jealous of you—because everybody always likes you.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in trading personalities?” George asked.

  “Call Mother and Father, George. Richard and I will wait right here.”

  George took a deep breath. “You’re not going to let me get out of this, are you?”

  “No.”

  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

  “You won’t. Just tell them the truth, and the rest will fall into place.”

  George walked stiffly over to the phone. After speaking with the operator for a moment, he paused. He glanced over at Christy and sent her a forced, tense smile.

  A moment later, Christy heard him say just the right thing:

  “Hello, Mother? It’s me, George. I . . . I’m sorry I made you worry. And I love you.”

  Sixteen

  It’s so beautiful,” Christy whispered, thinking of the more modest Flora College, in Red Springs, North Carolina, where she’d gotten her training to be a teacher.

  George smiled wryly at his sister. “That’s because you’re on the outside, looking in. When you’re sitting in a classroom, agonizing over one of Mr. Burns’s Latin exams, it doesn’t seem quite so charming.”

  They were standing outside the tall bronze gate at the entrance to the Bristol Academy. The school itself was a huge white mansion surrounded by manicured grounds. Four separate dormitory buildings flanked it on either side.

  “How do we get inside?” Christy asked.

  “The guard will let us in,” Richard replied. “At least, I think he will. Could be George and I are considered criminals by now.”

  “I still say we should have made an appointment,” George argued. It was a lame attempt to stall, but he figured it was worth a try.

  “I’m sure the headmaster will be anxious to hear what you have to say,” Christy said.

  George gazed up at the imposing main building. “I don’t know, Sis. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “What did Mother and Father tell you to do when you spoke to them?” Christy asked.

  “Well, mostly Mother just cried,” George said, still stinging at the memory. “And Father didn’t have much to say. You know how he is—he just said he was confident I’d do the right thing. But I’m just not sure this is the right thing. If we keep our mouths shut, at least we can be sure that Richard will stay in school. This way, I’m afraid we’ll both get expelled, and what good will that do?”

  Richard held up the small fabric satchel he was carrying. “You’re forgetting one thing— the money I stole. One way or another, George, I’m giving it back.”

  “You could just leave it by the headmaster’s door in the middle of the night,”

  George suggested. “No one would ever know how it got there.”

  “George,” Christy said firmly, hands on her hips, “you’re stalling.”

  “That’s right. I am.” George grinned sheepishly. “And I was very much hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  “I’m sure this is the right thing to do,” Christy said. “But in the end, it must be your decision.”

  George looked from his sister to Richard and back again. “Well, I can see I’m outnumbered.” He turned to Richard. “Come on, pal. Let’s get this over with, before I lose my nerve.”

  “Well, well, well. This is a surprise.”

  Even sitting behind his desk, Mr. Koller was an imposing man. Beefy and balding, he had a thick mustache and a deep baritone voice that seemed to shake the walls.

  His office, too, was intimidating. Three walls were lined to the ceiling with leather-bound books, and Mr. Koller’s mahogany desk seemed as large as a new Ford automobile. The family photograph on his desk was the only sign of a gentler man.

  George had only been here once before, when he’d enrolled at the academy. His parents had been with him then. Their proud faces were etched in his memory.

  It burned to think of the pain he’d heard in their voices today—the hurt and betrayal. How could he have let them down so badly? He’d meant well, of course. But it was frightening to think that you could try to do the right thing, and still end up in such an awful mess.

  “And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Mr. Koller inquired, arms crossed over his chest.

  “I . . . we . . . well, George and I have something to say,” Richard began in a thin, halting voice.

  “I’m all ears.”

  Richard and George exchanged looks. Richard was trembling. His face was ashen.

  “Might this have something to do with the mystery of the vanishing money?” Mr. Koller leaned forward, elbows on his desk. He fixed his stare on George. “And the mystery of Master Huddleston’s sudden and inexplicable disappearance shortly thereafter?”

  “
Yes,” George said. “It’s about the money. You see, there’s been . . . well, a bit of a misunderstanding about all that.”

  “A misunderstanding. Is that what it’s called now? You break in to my office, steal from this academy, and then call it a misunderstanding?” Mr. Koller bellowed.

  George swallowed hard as Mr. Koller stared sternly at the two of them. “My word . . . What’s next? What are—”

  “I took it!” Richard blurted, placing the sack of money on the headmaster’s desk. “I took it! George didn’t. If you’re going to expel anybody, it ought to be me!”

  The words came out in a terrible rush. When Richard was done, he almost looked relieved.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” George began, but Mr. Koller interrupted.

  “Yes, it always is,” he said sarcastically. He pursed his lips, gazing at Richard skeptically, as if he didn’t quite believe he was capable of the crime. “And how exactly did you get into my office, if you don’t mind my asking? Just so I can prevent any further incursions.”

  “I picked the lock,” Richard admitted. “I used a piece of wire. Took a while, but I got it eventually.”

  “Yes, indeed, you did.”

  Mr. Koller leaned back in his chair, regarding each boy thoughtfully. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. A slight smile seemed to lurk behind that mustache, but it could just as easily have been a sneer. Still, he didn’t seem all that angry. No books had been thrown, no threats had been made. Perhaps he was going to go lightly on the boys, chalk it up to a silly prank and nothing more.

  “The thing is,” George spoke up, “Richard had a very good reason for taking the money, Mr. Koller. You see—”

  “A good reason?” Mr. Koller repeated in a stern voice. “Are you suggesting there is ever a good reason for thievery? Do the words ‘Thou shalt not steal’ ring a bell for you, Master Huddleston?”

  “I . . . well, of course they do. I know it’s wrong to steal. And so does Richard. But sometimes there are circumstances—”

 

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