by Jean Little
“Marianna, you should have told us,” Mother said.
Marianna just looked at her.
I remembered then Mother’s telling her we would call her Mary. It seemed as if that long-ago Home Girl was not this girl, but someone different.
Bedtime
Cousin Anna dropped by for a few minutes before it grew dark this evening. Mrs. Jordan drove her in the buggy. She came to get some more of her belongings — David had already taken over her small valise — but seeing Mother in bed filled her with guilt.
“Victoria, get her out of the house,” Sparrow hissed into my ear. “She’ll wear your mother out.”
I was paralyzed for a moment. Then I marched in and drew Cousin Anna out of earshot of her friend.
“Mother will be fine, Cousin Anna,” I said solemnly. “We are all here to help. But you must go back to your cottage and keep Mrs. Jordan safe from her brother. He’s been here, you know. He frightened me. And he’ll be looking for her.”
I could not think of anything to add, but I had said enough. She was out the door like a flash.
“Well done, Victoria Josephine,” Marianna said, grinning a tight grin.
Then Tom said, “Vic, you take the first watch.”
It was right out of the sea adventure books he loves. He sounded excited, pleased to be doing something real. I know how he feels.
Mother is not to struggle upstairs any more. Father put a screen around her bed to give her more privacy, and we’ll eat in the kitchen. She had some soup and toast and went back to sleep. I sat watching her, and Marianna kept creeping back to check up on me. At eleven, she took my place.
I am back now in my own room. And Marianna Wilson, to her own astonishment, will have a room all to herself. David is coming back home tomorrow. He’ll get a shock to find Mother sleeping downstairs.
Moses is also keeping watch. She is lying very still at the foot of Mother’s bed. I went to shoo her away but Mother said sleepily, “No, Victoria. She is teaching me to relax.”
I must sleep now. I go back on duty first thing in the morning. I thought at first that Sparrow was being silly to have one of us with Mother all the time, but when she needs the commode or a drink, she won’t “bother” us. She is up before you know it. And Dr. Graham said no getting up at all.
August
Sunday, August 1
It did not feel like Sunday today. It was strange.
No word of Jasper. We don’t speak of him, but I see the fear in Sparrow’s face whenever she thinks nobody is watching. She still won’t give in and tell Father. I know it is because she is afraid Father would be bound by law to return Jasper to Mr. Stone. I am sure she is wrong, but what if I were the mistaken one?
Bedtime, Monday, August 2
Thomas found Jasper!
He went fishing. Mother said she wished he would catch some fresh fish. She had a hankering for it. I think maybe she was just trying to cheer him up but maybe not. Off went Tom like a knight answering his lady’s behest.
And we waited for him to come home quickly, because he’s a good fisherman and he always catches at least one or two decent-sized fish. But he didn’t come. We had supper. Father had a meeting at the church, so he was not home. Sparrow and I were just getting anxious, when Tom came. He looked so smug I wanted to hit him.
Waving a fan for what feels like hours, while you yourself are melting from the heat, is tiring. The room was so hot and I had to keep the light dim and stay awake and pretend I was enjoying myself. Even when Mother drifted off I had to stay there in case she woke, and because of no light I couldn’t read. I was glad to do my part, of course, but even so it was no fun.
And I believed Tom, the lucky fellow, had spent the day lolling by the river Speed, never giving a thought to us. I glared at him when he waltzed in.
Then he beckoned to Marianna and me. Sparrow looked as annoyed as I felt, but we followed him. He led us out to the stable and there was Jasper! He lay in a huddle in Bess’s stall and he was asleep.
Sparrow actually hugged Tom. He went red as a tomato.
“Where was he?” I demanded in a whisper.
He looked terrible. Filthy dirty. All his bones showing. Several new bruises. Sores around his mouth.
But alive!
Tom said it was a miracle. He decided to try fishing in a new place. He went down Norwich Street and sat on the bank near the bridge. Jasper was hiding in the bushes under the bridge supports. He saw Tom but he waited a long time to make sure Tom was alone.
Jasper figured somebody in our family had told Mrs. Jordan where to find him. He thought it was Cousin Anna.
“I told him she was dotty, but not a lowdown skunk,” Tom said, keeping his voice down.
When nobody joined Tom, Jasper took courage and called to him.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I nearly jumped out of my skin,” Tom admitted, grinning and rubbing the back of his neck. “He sounded like a ghost.”
Then he said they would have been home long before but Jasper would not leave his safe hiding place until it began to get dark. He’d only ventured out once, to scrounge some food. Tom wished he’d had some bread and cheese with him — for himself as well as Jasper. He said he felt as though he would die of hunger before Jasper gave in and came with him.
Sparrow ran to get them both something to eat, taking with her the two smallish fish he had caught. Mother would be pleased with the fish, and the story too if only Marianna would let us tell her.
“You know, Vic, I did not promise not to tell,” Tom said into my ear. “I think it is time to get help. That kid is really sick, or I miss my guess.”
I agreed, but I HAD promised. I wished Tom had told without discussing it with me. We sat in the stable yard, where Jasper would see us the moment he woke up. We did not want him to be frightened and we wanted to make sure he stayed put. I thought it would be all right to leave Mother for those few minutes.
“It’s a good thing Billy’s gone home,” I told Tom. He nodded.
While we waited there I told him all Mother had confided to me about Aunt Lib and Cousin Anna long ago. Now that Aunt Lib had passed away, there was no reason to keep that secret, at least. When he heard Cousin Anna was not Aunt Lib’s daughter, Tom was as dumbfounded as I had been.
“Jumping Jehosaphat!” he yelped out, exactly as I had done.
Then he told me that he used to plan he would someday run away to sea.
“No, Tom,” I said. “You mustn’t.”
“I know it, goosie,” he said.
Then I burst out crying and he said go ahead and cry. I think he cried a little himself. We are both so worried about Mother.
“I wish Marianna would bring that food,” he
started to say when, all at once, Father came walking down the path.
“What are you two in cahoots about?” he asked.
His deep voice half-roused Jasper, who cried out, “No! I won’t go back. I won’t!”
Then all the hiding was at an end.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
I’ll write the rest in the morning.
Tuesday, August 3
There is so much more to tell about yesterday. My hand aches just thinking about it. But it makes a grand story.
Just after Jasper gave himself away, Marianna came flying back down the path with food for poor Tom. She had been held up by Mother, who had asked her help with something or other. Father looked down at Jasper, who had gone right back into a troubled sleep, and made a sound like a low moan. He leaned down and touched Jasper’s head with the back of his hand.
“Poor laddie,” he said softly, “you’ve a fever. Some devil has been thrashing you. Mr. Carl Stone, I warrant.”
He drew us back outside, and while Tom ate, Marianna and I poured out Jasper’s story. Father looked terribly angry, but not at us.
He told Marianna that she need not worry. Mother would want to know. He explained that she needed to rest her body, not
her mind and heart. When Jasper moaned again, Father went back in, lifted him very gently and carried him up the stairs. Marianna heated water and filled the tub and Father himself washed Jasper. He said he had to be sure each wound was thoroughly cleansed or we’d have a case of blood poisoning on our hands. He carried Jasper as though he were light as a feather, and when I took an old nightshirt of Tom’s in to put on him I saw why. All his bones showed through his skin. I could have counted every rib and backbone bump. His shoulder blades are so sharp that they look like real knife blades. He was so filthy that we had to empty the tub and fill it with clean water twice. Before it was washed, his hair showed no sign of being red, only dirt-coloured. I stood gazing at his poor wasted body in horror.
“Victoria, stop staring,” my father said. “Leave the young man some privacy.”
I went red then and hurried out. But to tell the truth, I had not seen him as a boy but only as a skeleton. Besides, he’s only eight! If he were my age, I would never have stayed.
I hate that teasing smile of Father’s. I blush even when I am not really embarrassed at all.
Now Jasper is in my old bedroom, so I had to move again. Tom has moved back into the front room he and David shared when Peggy lived with us. Cousin Anna moved out just in time.
When Marianna fed her little brother the food Father prescribed, he ate like a starving wolf. She kept making him stop gulping long enough to chew. It was hard to watch. Yet it was wonderful too. It was like seeing a plant dying of thirst get watered and begin instantly to revive. A chewing, gobbling little boy does not look like a corpse.
Before Marianna tucked him in, Father took him to meet Mother. I went along, bound and bent not to miss anything. She looked at his thin, bruised little face and began to cry. His face is not just thin. It is gaunt, I guess, or maybe haggard. It looks like a skull except for the blue, blue eyes and the anxious smile. His hair, now it has been washed, is almost as bright as it was that day in the station, even though Mr. Stone has chopped a lot of it off.
“Come here, Jasper,” Mother said and gathered him as close as she could manage. She has no lap with that baby taking up space. She whispered something into his ear. Then he had tears in his eyes too. We were a bunch of watering pots.
I wonder what she said. He might tell Marianna. It is not my affair, but I would so love to know.
“We’ll talk this all over in the morning,” Father said when Marianna had put Jasper to bed. “We have things to work out.”
Tom and I avoided his glance, sure we were in
trouble.
“Nobody shall ever lay a finger on that child again if I can help it,” he called after us. “You did well, my children.”
“Yes, Father,” Tom and I mumbled and made our escape.
Then Snortle came in and jumped up at me, wanting a share of the attention. I picked him up and scratched behind his soft ears. He is getting heavy! Thump, thump, went his silly tail. So blessedly normal!
He washed out my left ear with his soft tongue while I headed for my room and you, dear Diary. It was a huge relief to laugh.
What a strange day! What a blessing that Father now knows! Maybe I won’t have any bad dreams tonight.
Wednesday, August 4
David came home late last night. Nobody told him about Jasper. Maybe we wanted not to have to listen to his sneers. But I don’t think that was really it. I know this sounds incredible, but David seems like an outsider now, and I forgot that Jasper’s being here had anything to do with him. I really did.
Mother told him that, now Cousin Anna was in her cottage, the front room was free for Tom and him again. She said nothing about my old room, but David did not notice that. He doesn’t notice things having to do with other people.
“Feel my muscle,” he told Tom, flexing his arm.
Tom felt it.
“That’s impressive,” he said.
We did not get together and decide to keep Jasper a secret. But none of us said a word about him either. He was quiet and out of the way and David was leaving again before long. Maybe we thought the less he knew, the fewer mean things he could say.
But it was a mistake. Halfway through the morning, David needed a clean towel and went to the linen cupboard. It is between my old room and the little one Marianna and I shared. I was in the kitchen when I heard his feet stop outside Jasper’s door. Jasper was asleep, but every breath he takes rattles and wheezes. I had just been up to check on him and I had heard this from outside the door. So I held my breath and prayed David would not notice.
He clattered down the back stairs like an avalanche. Then he just stood and glared at me.
“Who is that kid?” he demanded.
I had totally forgotten that David had never even heard of Marianna’s brother, let alone seen him. I was so taken aback my mouth dropped open. I felt it drop. Then I answered like a ninny.
“Jasper,” I said.
“And who, pray tell, is Jasper? I’ve never laid eyes on him and he is wearing an old nightshirt of Tom’s and looks settled in for life. Am I a member of this family or am I not?” He forced the words out like the bits of meat squeezing out of the grinder.
Marianna came in with some vegetables she had just picked for dinner. She saved me having to answer.
“He’s my brother,” she said, her voice thin. “I’m sorry you didn’t know about him, but we’ve had to keep him a secret or he would not be safe.”
David’s face darkened and his eyes narrowed. It changed him into a stranger. He looked like what Father calls “an ugly customer.”
“Awww,” he drawled, mocking her. “That explains everything. Are the police after him? He looks like a little roughneck. Jailbird haircut and everything. I certainly wouldn’t trust him out of my sight.”
I started shouting at him before Marianna had a chance. “Jasper’s only eight years old! He was beaten by Mr. Stone. He was starved too. He ran away and found Marianna. He needs nursing.”
David gave me the nastiest look. A sneer. That was what it was. Then he said he was sure that Father did not know we were hiding a runaway Home Boy in the house and he was sorry but it was his duty to tell. He sounded not one bit sorry, just pure mean.
Then, dear Diary, just as I was about to fly at David, Father came striding into the kitchen where the three of us were getting set to do battle.
He said he knew all about Jasper, and that Mother was not well and David was upsetting her. Then he told David to take himself off and not return until he had come to his senses. He finished with, “What becomes of Jasper is no concern of yours.”
David opened his mouth to argue, but Father turned away and said he had to go out on country calls.
“I won’t wait to eat,” he told me and Marianna. “They will doubtless ply me with food.”
At the door he turned back and asked David if he’d like to come along. I was amazed by how calm he sounded, and even more amazed when David muttered he had something else he must do. We all love to go with Father on his country calls. He takes only one of us at a time, and we get a chance to talk with him without anyone else butting in.
Father was pulling the door shut behind him when David burst out, “Having that boy in the house can’t be good for Mother. He must be crawling with vermin and —”
“He is not!” Marianna spat the words at him.
“Enough, you two,” my father said. “I helped bathe Jasper, David. You must admit I know how to get a small boy clean, even if he is bruised and battered.”
Then he really left, shutting the door firmly.
“I’m going downtown,” David announced loudly and slammed out.
Everything is ready for our noon meal now but we are waiting for Tom. So, dear Diary, I am getting caught up.
Wednesday evening,
Written by the light of a candle, Sitting by Mother while she sleeps
I had no idea when I wrote those words what was hanging over us. I actually saw David go by the window on the bicycle Fathe
r and Mother gave him for his last birthday. I was surprised he was riding it just to get downtown. I should have paid more attention. He was not going into town but out.
He returned long after we had finished dessert. He looked from one to the other of us. He seemed about to speak, but didn’t. He went upstairs and did not come down. The afternoon was peaceful.
Then Snortle barked to tell me company was arriving. I went to the door. I looked out and froze. Climbing down from the seat of a farm wagon was Mr. Carl Stone. I could not move hand or foot for a few precious seconds. It was as though I had been turned to stone, dear Diary. I could not make my brain work until he spoke.
“I’ve come for the boy,” he barked.
I stood there, like a life-sized statue of a girl with her mouth open. I was blocking his way, but not because I had thought it out. I couldn’t seem to think.
“Are you simple-minded, girl? I know he’s here,” he said, raising his voice as though I were deaf. “Your brother did me the courtesy of riding out to tell me you had him. Tell Jasper Wilson I am waiting and he’d better get out here fast if he doesn’t want a hiding.”
I knew Sparrow was running up the back stairs to warn her brother. Maybe she could even hide him. David was staying out of sight. Father had not yet returned from his calls. It was up to me and I was scared stiff. Mr. Stone had his whip in his hand again and I thought Jasper was lost.
Dear Diary, I was in dark despair.
Then I heard slow steps coming and Mother’s voice spoke from behind me.
“My husband is not at home, Mr. Stone,” she said clearly. “Would you come into the sitting room and wait for him please?”
He did not want to. He grew as red as a beet. Mother was in her nightgown with a wrapper over it and her hair was hanging down her back in a long plait.
“I’m dirty from the road, madam,” he growled. “All I want is Jasper Wilson. I have papers which prove he was signed over to me until he is eighteen. He had no business running off and snivelling to you people about being mistreated. He’s only been punished when he richly deserved it.”