Flaming Tree

by Phyllis A. Whitney

  “Why?” Kelsey asked. Her wave of revulsion toward Ruth’s pretense and her strong sympathy for Tyler had both subsided a little.

  The quiet of the library, the waiting, grew long. Then Ruth threw off her guard. “Because I’m afraid of what Tyler will do if he knows I’m well! You haven’t any idea of the fury that can take hold of him. Do you think my husband really wants Jody to get well? Do you? Though he would like me to be well again. Then he could get the divorce he’s threatened me with. This way I’m dependent on him for everything, and he can’t walk out.”

  Ruth’s words were devastating in their sad bitterness. She flung herself into the big chair and burst into tears. The wildness of her weeping was frightening, but it was better to sit quietly and let Ruth cry herself out. Besides, Kelsey needed time to get over her own shock and dismay. She remembered all too well the vulnerability and innocence of Marisa’s portrait of Ruth. Innocence was gone, but the vulnerability was there, and with it the danger of emotional damage. Who was acting the greater lie—Ruth or Tyler?

  Such a freshet of tears couldn’t last for long, however, and in a little while Ruth sat up, wiping her eyes. “All right,” she said, once more mockingly defiant, “are you going to tell him? Of course it’s your duty to report to the man who hired you.”

  “My concern is for Jody,” Kelsey told her quietly, trying to reassure herself as well. “I’d like to do whatever is best for him.”

  Big gray eyes considered her for a moment. “Yes. And I thank you for that. I wish I could explain. I wish I could tell you all that’s happened, but some of it would only sound as though I were defending myself. It wouldn’t serve any purpose to start pointing fingers of blame.”

  Kelsey’s first condemnation of Ruth had weakened a little. “I could help Jody more if I understood what is troubling him.”

  “Do you mean he can really remember what happened?”

  “We don’t know yet how much he remembers. But the signs are hopeful.”

  “Tyler told me this, but I didn’t believe him. Now Denis is claiming the same thing. If it’s true that his mind will come back, that’s wonderful, Kelsey. This is why I wanted you in the house—so you could help Jody—and perhaps let me know directly. Tyler tells me what he pleases, and no more.”

  “There’s a long way to go,” Kelsey said carefully. She wanted to offer Jody’s mother hope, yet there was always the danger of expecting too much too soon, and then being destroyed by repeated disappointment. A difficult line to walk. “We can’t be sure how far Jody can be brought, since the damage was serious. That’s why I thought it might help if I knew a little more about what’s worrying him. Something is. Sometimes it seems to surface when your husband is near.”

  “I’d expect that. If Jody is at all aware, he must sense the blame Tyler feels toward him. Anyway, Kelsey, it’s better if you don’t get too involved. Then no one will try to harm you.”

  A strange thing to say. “What if someone is already trying?” Kelsey asked, and told her about the ringing telephone near her room.

  Ruth curled up again into a small, defensive knot. “Don’t tell me any more! I can’t bear it—I don’t want to know!”

  “You know who was on the phone?”

  “I don’t even want to guess. Just be careful, Kelsey. You’re dealing with monsters. I know monsters—my father was one. So don’t be fooled by disguises.”

  “Including your disguise.”

  “Mine’s gone, as far as you’re concerned—and I can’t blame you for judging me.”

  “I don’t want to judge anyone.”

  Ruth spoke more quietly, a little wistful. “Maybe you’re the one person in this house who doesn’t need a disguise. And you’ve been good to my brother. Denis is the real innocent, Kelsey, and he leads with his chin most of the time. So someone is always clipping him. He likes you, and he thinks you can work a miracle with Jody.”

  “But you don’t believe in miracles?”

  “I lost that ability when I was pretty young. The General taught me about grim reality. He thought he was arming Denis and me, but sometimes I wonder. Maybe I turned out to be the foolish one. Denis is gentle—and good.”

  She covered her face with her hands, and Kelsey was afraid she might cry again. However, when she raised her head after a moment, though she looked sad, there were no more tears. She seemed to make an effort to thrust ugly thoughts behind her and speak of the inconsequential.

  “What will you do with yourself, Kelsey, when you’re not with Jody?”

  “I expect to read a few books.” Kelsey held up the copy of Zenda, and Ruth almost smiled. “And I’ll explore a bit around Carmel. Marisa Marsh and I are having lunch together tomorrow, and she’s driving me into the Valley.”

  This seemed to startle Ruth. “Do you like Marisa?”

  “I don’t feel that I know her very well, but I find her interesting.”

  Ruth closed her eyes. “She means so much to Tyler that I’ve always wanted to trust her. But sometimes I’m not sure. Marisa never does anything without a purpose, so I wonder what she’s up to with you tomorrow.”

  “I invited her to lunch.”

  “Of course she claims that it’s her voices—or whatever—that tell her what to do. A bit weird, it seems to me.”

  “Denis says that she found you and Jody after you fell—that it was this instinct of hers that saved you.”

  “Anyway, that’s the story. I suppose we should be grateful. But sometimes—when I think of Jody—I’m not.”

  Kelsey heard the desolation in her voice and spoke quickly. “He will improve.”

  “Improve isn’t enough. Will he talk and laugh? Will he run and play and climb? Will he read books and play games and grow up to be a useful, happy man?”

  No one could promise any of that, and Kelsey could feel Ruth’s terrible pain as a mother. Pain she herself knew very well because her Mark would never do any of those wonderful things. She put away remembrance quickly, needing to be strong for another small boy.

  “Can you take this one step at a time, Mrs. Hammond?” she pleaded. “Little things will seem remarkable if you don’t look too far ahead. Perhaps all this really will happen in time. We don’t know that it won’t.”

  Ruth’s guard seemed to lower, and she looked at Kelsey as though she saw her as a person for the first time.

  “I know what happened to you,” she said. “I admire you for behaving with a courage I don’t have.”

  “I’m taking one step at a time. I’m glad your son has a good chance, Mrs. Hammond. Tomorrow Mrs. Marsh is bringing in a doctor friend, and she may be able to help Jody.”

  “Yes, Denis told me: I’ll try to hope. Come and talk to me sometimes, Kelsey. I need a friend.”

  “Of course I will,” Kelsey said.

  With an effort, Ruth seemed to rouse herself. “Tell me what else you’ll do to keep from going mad in this house. I know what it is to be bored crazy here. I knew it long before the accident. I could have been so happy—I thought I had everything I’d ever wanted. I was wrong.”

  “Jody will keep me busy most of the time,” Kelsey said. “I like to walk, and today I went down through the woods, though not as far as the beach.”

  Ruth sighed. “It’s so beautiful around here. I miss going out. I used to love to take Jody on hikes. But now I might be seen, so I don’t dare go out of the house on my own.”

  “I found the marble statue you told me about.”

  “I had it put there. My mother found the little marble girl and boy on one of her trips with my father. She brought it home from France, though I like to think its origin was Greece. Denis and I used to play around it when it stood in our patio in the desert. I always said the statue was us. Denis was my big brother in those days, and he always protected me when he could. Now I feel older, and I’m the one who has tried to protect him. Or used to.”

  “What do you need to protect him from?”

  “From monsters, of course, Kelsey.
You’ve already met them, but you’re like Denis—you don’t want to see.”

  “That’s a pretty strong word. I’ve met sad people who are struggling with appalling problems, but I don’t believe in monsters.”

  “You’d better start believing!”

  It was hard to understand such bleakness, no matter how great the cause, and Kelsey had to prod. “How can you live like this? You shouldn’t play this charade—life has so much more to give you. How long can you keep it from your husband that you can walk?”

  “As long as necessary.”

  “Do you mean days, weeks, years? What sort of life will that be for you.”

  “Better than if he thought I was strong and able to take care of myself. Then he’d have no mercy. Dora wants to take me back to the desert. Then I could be out of the way since Tyler doesn’t really want me around. I could seem to recover gradually. I do need to recover, Kelsey. Just because I can walk doesn’t mean that I’m healed. But Tyler will never let Jody go. He can hardly bear the sight of him, though he’ll spite me and keep him here. Watch over Jody, Kelsey. Help him.” The fear in her voice had a deep and genuine ring.

  “I’ll do my best,” Kelsey said.

  Suddenly Ruth sat up, listening.

  Someone was coming, hurrying on the stairs. There was no way for Ruth to escape, but it was only Dora who ran through the door.

  “I thought I’d find you here!” She threw an alarmed look at Kelsey and then went on. “Tyler’s been walking through the woods, and I’ve seen his flashlight coming back toward the house. If he sees lights on in the library, he’ll come to investigate. And he’s probably already seen them. So do move, Ruth—hurry!”

  This was a new Dora, taking charge frantically. Ruth got out of her chair and started for the door.

  Dora stopped her. “What about Mrs. Stewart?”

  “She won’t say anything,” Ruth assured her mother.

  Kelsey hadn’t promised this, yet she knew that for now she was bound to silence. Telling Tyler the truth about his wife might really result in an explosion. It was hard to order her thoughts and choose a right course, so she must wait, at least a little while.

  Dora had no time to dispute Ruth’s confidence that Kelsey would keep still, and just before she hurried Ruth from the room, she looked back.

  “Stay right where you are, Mrs. Stewart,” she ordered. “Then if Tyler comes, there’ll be a reason for lights in the library.”

  Dora seemed one of the unexpected pieces in this puzzle, inconsistent and contradictory in her actions. But Kelsey had no time for Dora now. She didn’t want to face Tyler with this new knowledge about Ruth sharp in her mind. Or with the memory of that betraying warmth she’d experienced earlier. She’d been told all too often that she had a face that could never keep a secret, but now she must try. She returned to the shelves and took down another book to leaf through, while every bit of her tensed with listening. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice the lights. Perhaps he’d just go upstairs to bed.

  The house was so big that sounds at the other end couldn’t be heard in this secluded room behind the fireplace. She didn’t know whether Tyler had come in until she heard him crossing the living room. At once she pretended absorption in the pages of whatever book she’d picked from the shelf. When he stood in the doorway, the sounds stopped, and Kelsey knew he was watching her.

  “So you’re not sleeping either, Mrs. Stewart?” he asked.

  She turned to look at him. He wore jeans again, with a pullover sweater, and his dark hair had been ruffled by the wind. The all too physical impact of this man struck her as it had before, but now she knew the danger—recognized her own lonely susceptibility.

  “I woke up around two,” she said quietly. “I can usually read myself to sleep. So I came downstairs to find some books. I’ll go back to my room now.”

  “Considering that phone call, I wouldn’t go wandering around the house at night,” he said.

  “I’ll be sure to keep books in my room after this,” she told him meekly, her one desire being to escape from his presence without betraying all she needed to hide.

  He came toward her. “Let’s see what books you’ve picked.”

  Reluctantly, Kelsey handed him Zenda and the book whose title she hadn’t noticed.

  “Good old Rudolf,” he said. “But Lewis Carroll—Through the Looking Glass?”

  “Sometimes I think that’s where I’ve gone—through Alice’s looking glass,” she said desperately.

  “What’s troubling you, Mrs. Stewart? It’s more than being sleepless, I think.”

  She hated to feel trapped, and tried once more to improvise. “Of course I’m troubled. I think of Jody all the time. I hope Marisa’s Dr. Norman can make some helpful suggestions.” All this was true, and safe enough ground.

  He had come close to take the books from her, and he was so near that she could catch the scent of pine needles and leafy earth that clung to him from the woods. It was all she could manage to keep her hands from shaking as he returned the books. For a moment his own hands touched hers, and she shivered.

  “You really do care, don’t you, Kelsey? Jody matters to you.”

  He spoke with unexpected gentleness, and she looked straight into his eyes—a terrible mistake because she saw the hidden fires that burned there, and was afraid. Tyler himself might be the “gunpowder” that could explode if a spark were touched. If that happened, Kelsey Stewart might be the first one to be consumed by the conflagration.

  She almost snatched the books from him and fled toward the door.

  “Good night, Kelsey,” he said behind her, and the very timbre of his voice made her shiver again.

  She used her flashlight to find the stairs, and ran up them as though pursued. Yet she knew very well that the only immediate danger lay in her own starved emptiness. It was dangerous to long for arms around her—to want to be held and comforted, kissed by a man. This man. There could never be anything more with Tyler Hammond. Not when she thought of Ruth.

  This time she remembered Denis’s warning, and locked her bedroom door. For the rest of the night she neither slept nor read.

  XII

  Somehow, in the morning, Kelsey pulled herself together, and was waiting in Jody’s room when Marisa and Dr. Norman arrived together though in separate cars. Tyler was summoned, and at once Jody’s room seemed full of people. Marisa wore her favorite color again in a turquoise blouse with a long white skirt trimmed with antique eyelet embroidery. Her gray hair hung down her back in a thick braid, and her eyes shone with quiet excitement. As usual, she exuded vitality, but today she sat in a corner out of the way, willing to watch and not participate.

  Tyler remained a dark, skeptical presence near the door. After a first glance, Kelsey didn’t look at him again. Her own reactions the night before were something she dared not think about. She only hoped, for Jody’s sake, that Tyler would do nothing to interfere.

  Dr. Norman was younger than she’d expected. Perhaps around Kelsey’s own age. She looked slim and tanned, her short hair cropped close to her head, and Kelsey sensed the positive energy she seemed to radiate.

  In spite of the fact that both Ginnie and Kelsey had tried to prepare Jody for Dr. Norman’s visit, he had stiffened all over—a sign of anxiety and resistance. Once more, Kelsey wondered if it might be his father’s presence that disturbed him more than the doctor’s.

  Jane Norman sat by his bed and began to talk to Jody quietly, explaining that she was going to try him with a few tests—nothing that would hurt him in the least. She used her stethoscope, examined the condition of the tube in his nose, asked Ginnie about various standard records she kept from day to day, and went through a general examination. Jody’s eyes seemed to be tracking better when she tested them, and he could certainly hear her.

  “Do you know what acupuncture is, Jody?” she asked when she’d finished her examination. “It’s a treatment the Chinese have used for thousands of years, and we’re finding that it may r
elieve some of that spastic stiffness you have. It’s done with needles, but you’ll feel hardly more than a prick. I would like to have someone come in three times a week for a while to give you treatments. Acupuncture is slow, but if it’s given time it may help.”

  Jody made a face, and Dr. Norman patted his hand. “Good—you understand me, and you don’t like needles. But this isn’t as bad as you think. You want to get well, and you are the one who can help by not fighting what we want to do.”

  She looked at Ginnie and Kelsey and went on.

  “I know you’re exercising him, and Marisa tells me that you’re using your hands, Kelsey. That’s fine. Therapeutic touch is being taught now at Tufts University near Boston. And it’s used at Walter Reed Hospital in Washington. I’m glad you’re using it, too.”

  Tyler spoke from the doorway. “What is therapeutic touch?”

  Dr. Norman smiled at him, unruffled by his tone. “We’ve always known about healing done through what was called the laying on of hands. Now we’re beginning to understand why it works. It’s a way of directing healthy human energy—which we all have in an electric charge around our bodies—through our hands into those who are ill. Those who need help. Like your son, Mr. Hammond. Jody, it feels good, doesn’t it, when Kelsey puts her hands on you?”

  Jody said “Um” in agreement.

  Dr. Norman warmed to her theme. “Everything’s important—everything works together, as I’ve said. Synergistically. Sometimes in medicine we become stuck with our own pet therapy and close our minds to all the other things that are happening around the country. We need to put it all together because every patient is different, and we can never be sure what will work best until we try.”

  She spoke directly to Jody again.

  “I want to give you some special vitamins and other nutrients through your feeding tube. You may wind up with such a big appetite that you’ll really want to chew and swallow again. The right food will be important then. I’m sure you’d like to be rid of the tube, but we’ll begin by using it.”