Book Read Free

Chase the Wind

Page 20

by Cindy Holby - Wind 01 - Chase the Wind


  Jenny was made to wait in the hall while the boys were all taken in together, each one protesting at the lies the others told. Jamie finally threw his hands up in frustration and challenged the pries to do whatever he was going to do and quit wasting his time. Jenny cringed as she heard each lick being given by the priest’s wooden paddle. The four soon came out, Logan giving her a look that would have caused trembling in a weaker person; it just made Jenny raise her chin a notch. Joe was sniveling behind him, rubbing his bruised posterior. Marcus rubbed his loo, but he was smiling. Jamie just tugged on her braid and flashed his grin.

  “I’ll be close by,” he whispered as Father Clarence summoned her in. She walked with what she hoped was a confident step into the dark confines of the office, but couldn’t help shivering when she heard the click of the lock behind her.

  Father Clarence sat down as his desk and indicated a chair. She sat with her arms resting on the arms of the chair, willing her pounding heart to slow down as the priest surveyed her over his steepled fingers.

  “I knew you were full of sin from the first day I saw you,” he began. “You have the body of a temptress and the soul of a whore.”

  Jenny could not believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

  “We must purge the evil from you.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” she protested weakly. The look in his eyes terrified her.

  “You will not lead me into temptation, not this time.” Jenny’s eyes grew wide as she realized that he was confusing her with someone else. “I will be stronger than the evil that is within you.”

  She heard someone testing the latch of the door.

  “Father Clarence?” It was Sister Mary Frances.

  Jenny bolted to the door and fumbled with the lock. She heard the priest’s footsteps behind her as he came around his desk. She finally turned the bolt and flung the door open, causing the nun to stumble back against Jamie, who was standing with fists clenched and a murderous look in his eyes. Jenny ran past them, and Jamie took off after her when he saw the fear in her eyes. Father Clarence watched the two disappear with a look on his face that caused the nun to cross herself and send a quick prayer up to heaven. Father Clarence went back into his office and bolted the door without saying a word to Sister Mary Frances.

  “Jen, what happened?” Jamie asked when they had reached the safety of the courtyard. “When he locked the door, I panicked and went to find Sister Mary Frances.”

  Jenny began pacing around the birdbath in the center of the courtyard. “He thinks I’m someone else.”

  “What do you mean, someone else?”

  “I don’t know. He was talking crazy. He said I was a whore, and I wasn’t going to tempt him again, that he needed to purge the evil from me.”

  “He’s crazy!”

  “He scares me. Oh, Jamie, can we please leave?”

  Jamie ran his hands through his hair, pushing the growing mass back out of his eyes. “Jen, we’ll tell Sister Mary Frances what he said. She’ll know what to do.”

  “I want to go.”

  “We’ve no place to go. It’s going to be autumn soon, then winter. There is no way we can survive by ourselves.”

  Jenny flopped down on the bench and crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m not sure I can survive him either.” She said it so quietly that Jamie went and sat beside her. He gathered her slim hands into his big bronze ones and gently squeezed her fingers.

  “We’ll be careful. We’ll watch out for you, me and Marcus. We’ll make sure you’re never alone where he can find you, I promise.”

  Jenny looked at the handsome face of her brother, at his deep blue eyes so like her own. She saw the depth of his concern, saw the fear for her, and the fear for himself. The ridges of the scar on the side of his face were pale, contrasting greatly with the deep bronze of his skin. His hair was longer than it had ever been, covering his ears and brushing against the collar of his shirt. The front continually flopped down over his eyes, and he was forever shoving it back and clamping his hat down to keep it in place. Jenny reached up and pushed the mass back, looping it over his ear in hopes that it would stay, but it wasn’t long before it fell forward again. Jamie grinned at her attempt, and she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face under his chin. Jamie spread his arms out in surprise, but when he realized she was trembling, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

  “Don’t you know I’ll always take care of you?” he said into the crown of golden blond hair. He felt her head go up and down in a nod under his chin. “You just have to try to stay out of trouble. Lord knows that will be a chore for you.” Jenny punched the back of his shoulder with her fist.

  “Was the lickin’ worth it?” she finally asked when she felt she had her emotions under control.

  “Oh, yeah.” She felt his grin above her head. “It wasn’t anything. He can’t hurt me, and even if it did hurt, it was still worth it. It felt really good to throw those bullies in the water.”

  “This won’t be the end of it, you know.”

  “I know. We’ll just take it as it comes.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The long hot days of summer began to fade and the weather became cooler, the days shorter. Jenny stayed as close as possible to Sister Mary Frances, who had become pensive after the incident with the locked office door. Jamie and Marcus became a shield for Jenny also, each one making sure that one of them was within calling distance whenever they were about the grounds, or going to and fro in the halls.

  Father Clarence began to take some of his meals in the privacy of his office and even missed several of the evening devotions, leaving the sisters to read some scripture, lead the group in a few songs and dismiss the happy children early. The sisters cared for their charges with puzzled looks on their faces, but beyond prayer, they didn’t know what they could do. Most of them were relieved not to have to put up with the priest’s oppressive company.

  One afternoon the cook came and asked Jenny if she would be willing to go to the orchard and find what was left of the apples for some cobbler. She agreed, having seen Father Clarence depart the mission earlier in the buckboard to conduct some business in town. She went to see if Mary could join her, and the two went hand in hand to the orchard, anxious to be outside on such a beautiful day. They all knew that the mild days they were enjoying wouldn’t last much longer, and Jenny looked at the task as a blessing. She was dreading the long winter and the confines of the orphanage walls.

  When they reached the orchard, Jenny took off her shoes, tucked the tail of her skirt in her waistband and swung up into the branches to search the uppermost part of the tree. She smiled to herself when she remembered both her mother and father claiming to be the source of her talent for balance and climbing, then laughing as if sharing a secret joke. She had heard her mother say on more than one occasion that she was grateful for the oak tree that grew outside her bedroom window. Then her father would remark that he was going to make sure there was no such benefit for any suitor of his daughter.

  She looked down below her at Mary, who was picking up apples off the ground, inspecting them, then heaving the discards with great relish into a pile, laughing with delight when a particularly rotten one spattered across the grass. Jenny laughed along with her as she made her way from branch to branch, finding a few good specimens to add to the bag looped over her shoulder. She made her way to the top of the tree and paused a moment to watch a few billowing clouds float across the deep blue sky. She sucked in the clear, cool air as she swayed on the thin branches at the top of the tree. She look down to see Mary scanning the branches, trying to find her.

  “Jenny, I want to come up.”

  “No, you can’t. You’re too little.”

  “I’m always too little.” Mary pouted, and Jenny watched her go scuffing off, kicking rotten apples out of her way.

  She decided that she had picked this tree clean and made her way down to tie another one, knowing she would need to fil
l the bag in order for everyone to get cobbler. The afternoon passed pleasantly enough, with Mary roaming around below, finding caterpillars and one time startling a small green snake which beat a hasty retreat from her squealing voice and stamping feet. The bag was so full that Jenny knew she’d have to drag it back, and debated whether she should send Mary for help. After testing the weight of the bag, she decided she could handle it, and the two of them started back for the mission, each one holding a comer of the bag, but Jenny doing all of the work.

  They hadn’t taken ten steps when they saw Logan and Joe coming their way, looks of pure glee on their faces at finding the girls away from their protectors. Jenny didn’t even stop to think, she bent down and picked up an especially rotten apple and threw it with all her might at Logan’s leering face. The apple hit him square in the forehead and exploded into a gooey mass that began to run down his face. She followed up with another bomb that smacked Joe in the chest, and with the help of Mary, whose throws mostly fell short of the target, continued the bombardment until the two turned tail and ran. Jenny laughed gleefully at the empty threats they hurled over their shoulders in their retreat, and Mary spun around for sheer joy after realizing that they had bested the bullies.

  They continued on their way, with Mary giggling and chattering the entire trip, until they reached the huge kitchen that serviced the mission. The cook was nowhere to be seen, so Jenny emptied the bag of apples into the sink to be washed while Mary spun circles around the room, chanting a rhyme about the defeat of Logan and Joe. She spun so much that she became dizzy and crashed out of control into a wheeled cart that held the plates waiting to be set on the table for dinner. The cart tipped with the impact of her small body, and its contents went sliding onto the hard floor, shattering with a crash. The little girl looked up from the disaster with her mouth wide open, her hands flying up to her face. Jenny heard the scrape of a chair followed by a loud thump from the dining hall beyond, and she grabbed Mary to her.

  “Run, go find Sister Mary Frances.” She shoved Mary towards the back door and was kneeling among the broken plates when the door from the dining hall came crashing open. She looked up to find Father Clarence peering down at her over his glasses.

  “What happened?” His voice was calm and flat.

  “It was an accident. I tripped and crashed into the cart,” Jenny said with a trembling voice.

  “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “I swear it was an accident.”

  The priest came over and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “Look at what you’ve done,” his voice hissed in her ear.

  “I’ll clean it up.” Jenny couldn’t help it, she sobbed on the words.

  “Yes, you will, and then you will be punished.” He pushed her down so hard that she lost her balance and fell, the shards from the dishes piercing her palms and knees when she landed. She caught a sob in her throat and gathered her feet beneath her, getting ready to run when the opportunity presented itself. “You need to be punished. I should have taken care of that long ago instead of letting the evil grow and fester inside of you.”

  He stepped away from the cart, and Jenny measured the distance to the door with a sideways glance. She saw that he was going for the broom in the comer and she slowly stood, thinking he was going to hand it to her to sweep up the mess. When he reached for it, she turned for the door, hoping that Sister Mary Frances was on the way and would calm the man.

  She never saw the blow coming. She just felt the impact of the broom handle as it came down on her shoulder, sending her tumbling head first into the wall. She was dazed, but managed to turn and throw her arm up as another blow descended on her. She felt the bone in her arm snap, but raised it again as the handle came at her for the third time. The priest’s face was a mass of purple in his rage, and Jenny felt as if the demons of hell must be standing beside her from the look in his eyes. A blow landed on her temple, and everything before her turned red before it all faded into blackness.

  The priest looked at the crumpled body at his feet and then up at the broom, which was raised for another blow. He flung the weapon across the kitchen and left, making sure he didn’t step in the trail of blood coming from the cuts on Jenny’s hands.

  Sister Mary Frances found her a few minutes later when she breathlessly followed Mary into the kitchen. She immediately sent the little girl to the barn for Jamie and then knelt beside Jenny’s unconscious form. Jenny moaned when she touched the broken arm, and the sister sent a prayer of thanksgiving heavenward that the girl wasn’t dead. She wrapped towels around her bleeding hands and knees and was wiping the trickle of blood from her temple when Jamie came bursting through the door. Marcus was right behind him.

  “Jenny!” Jamie knelt beside Jenny. “Sister, what happened?”

  “I don’t know. It looks as if someone beat her.”

  Marcus gathered Mary up as she came in behind them. “Is she dead?” Mary asked with a trembling voice.

  “No. Mary, did you see who did this?” the nun asked.

  “No, I knocked the dishes over and Jenny told me to get you to help.” She was crying now and shaking her head. “There wasn’t anyone else here but me and Jenny.”

  The nun stood and scanned the kitchen to see if there was some clue as to the identity of the attacker. Jamie gently slid his arms under Jenny and lifted her up, bringing another moan from her as her left arm flopped down. Sister Mary Frances tucked the arm up on Jenny’s chest and led the way to the infirmary with Marcus and Mary bringing up the rear. Jamie placed her in the same bed that he had occupied upon his arrival at the mission and left without a word.

  “You’d better go with him, Marcus, and see if you can keep him out of trouble until I find out what happened,” Sister Mary Frances instructed him. “Mary, go see if you can find Sister Abigail.”

  Sister Mary Frances had the still unconscious Jenny bandaged up by the time the boys arrived back in the infirmary. Their search for Jenny’s attacker had come to a dead end. Mary was perched on the other bed, sobbing occasionally as she sniffed back her tears and runny nose. Marcus pulled her onto his lap as Jamie took a seat on his sister’s bed. Her arm was wrapped with a splint again, and her hands were bandaged along with her knees. Her right temple was sporting a large goose egg, and the side of her face had begun to turn black and blue. Her long golden braid was lying over her shoulder, and Jamie took the ends of it in his hands, stroking it with his lean bronze fingers.

  “Has she said anything yet?” he asked the nun.

  “No, she’s still unconscious, poor thing. I hope she can tell us who did this to her.”

  “Me too.”

  The nun felt a shiver at the cold, flat tone of his words. She looked over at Marcus, and saw that he had felt it too. His eyes were wide as he looked at Jamie, who continued to stroke his sister’s hair.

  “Why don’t you go on and eat,” the nun suggested. “I’ll let you know when she wakes up.”

  “No, I want to stay here.” Jamie never looked up, just held the braid in his hand, rubbing the ends with his fingers.

  “Marcus, you take Mary and go to dinner,” the nun instructed the younger boy. He picked Mary up off the bed and left, giving both Jenny and Jamie a worried look on his way out. Sister Mary Frances busied herself around the room, keeping an eye out for any stirring from Jenny. She saw her chest rise and fall steadily, but there was no other sign of life. “It could be a while before she wakes up,” she informed Jamie.

  “I know. I’ll wait.”

  The nun saw that there was no reasoning with him at this point, so she just prayed that he would soon give in to exhaustion.

  Jamie stayed by Jenny’s bed throughout the night, finally moving to the chair and taking up a book. He fell asleep sometime after midnight, and Sister Mary Frances covered him with a blanket. She lay down on the other bed, hoping that if Jenny stirred, she would hear her before Jamie did. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning she heard a faint sound and looked ove
r to see Jenny moving restlessly about in bed. She touched the girl gently on the shoulder and waited patiently as the deep blue eyes focused in the soft light of the lamp. .

  “What happened?” Jenny asked as she put a bandaged hand up to her throbbing temple. She examined the hand, then raised the other one, looking at the splint as if trying to figure out where it had come from.

  “Don’t you remember?” the nun asked quietly.

  Jenny closed her eyes as if to help summon the incident from behind the wall of pain inside her head. “I was hit from behind,” she finally said, her voice croaking on the words. Jamie began to stir in the chair.

  “Jenny, I want you to think very carefully. Do you know who did this?” The nun touched Jenny’s cheek, causing Jenny to look into her eyes. Jenny then looked beyond her at Jamie, who was now wide awake, sitting on the edge of the chair, his eyes shining silver in the dim light of the room. Something about the look in his eyes made Jenny hesitate as the attack began to play over in her mind.

  “No,” she said, the pain in her head making her nauseous. “I didn’t see them.”

  “Them?” Jamie asked.

  Jenny waved her bandaged hand in the air. “Them, they, he, she, whoever, struck me from behind while I was cleaning up the dishes.” She turned her face towards the wall. “My head is killing me.”

  “Jen, are you sure?” Jamie was standing next to the bed.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Now go away, it hurts to talk.” She didn’t turn to look at him. He stood there a minute, shoving his hair back as he waited for her to remember something, but she didn’t speak, just closed her eyes as if his very presence pained her. He left with a promise to return first thing in the morning.

  Sister Mary Frances sat down in the chair and waited for Jenny to say what was on her mind.

  “You know who did this to me, don’t you?” Jenny was still facing the wall.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you lie to your brother?”

 

‹ Prev