Flaming Tree

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Flaming Tree Page 20

by Phyllis A. Whitney


  He sat looking out the window for a moment and it seemed to Kelsey that the mask he usually wore had slipped, so that he became suddenly more vulnerable. That could be dangerously appealing in so strong a man.

  “I’d still like to know why Marisa took you there,” he said.

  She spoke carefully, needing to hide her own uncertain emotions that could blow hot and cold in this ridiculous fashion.

  “I’m not sure I can explain. It’s so—nebulous. Marisa wanted the house to tell me something. At least that’s what she said. Though I haven’t any idea what it was supposed to tell me. She thinks I have some sort of sensitivity—which really doesn’t exist. I’ve never had anything like that, and I think I’d fight it if I did.”

  Tyler picked up an onyx paperweight and studied it absently. “Marisa gets carried away. She sails off into some other world where there are different laws, different planes. Interesting, perhaps, but I don’t like tampering with something that’s so little understood.”

  “She did get some sort of message when Ruth and Jody fell, out at Point Lobos. If it hadn’t been for Marisa, they might not have been found until it was too late.”

  “I don’t understand what happened, or how she found them. I wonder if she mixes reality up with her visions too much at times.”

  “I like Marisa very much,” Kelsey said. “I’m willing to believe she knows more about these things than I do.”

  He tossed the piece of onyx from hand to hand. “When it comes to Marisa, I’ve learned not to entirely disbelieve—she’s too often right. But I’d like to know what she’s up to now. There’s something I don’t understand about this preoccupation with Francesca Fallon. Now she’s drawn you into it, too. The woman’s dead, so let it go. A nasty way to die, but maybe she asked for it.”

  Denis had said something of the same thing. What an unhappy life Francesca must have led—with no one liking her. A mean life.

  Kelsey dared a direct question. “Why did you go there to see her? Especially after you’d had a public quarrel with her on the air?”

  “That was why—unfinished business. I suppose Marisa told you about that?”

  “She didn’t say what happened on that broadcast, except that it was unpleasant.”

  “Francesca threw out something I couldn’t ignore, so I went to see her. She invited me to come, right on the air. Her purpose was blackmail, but she didn’t get anywhere with it.”

  “How could you stop her?”

  “I told her if she went down that road I would fix it so that she’d do no more gossiping about anyone. I only meant to scare her. If she’d gone ahead, I don’t know what action I could have taken. I still don’t know exactly what she was getting at. She liked to play the mysterious adventuress—her best fake role. Maybe I’d have done what someone else did—picked up a piece of firewood and used it. If I were angry enough. As it happened, I didn’t get the chance. Someone beat me to it.”

  “I suppose the police followed whatever leads they could about people she might have infuriated in her gossip columns, or her radio program?”

  “That’s why they came to me. They knew about the uproar on the air, of course. What with that and her stupid will, the police were pretty interested in me. The will must have been an afterthought. She always played her foolish hunches.”

  “Marisa told me you were with Ginnie Soong around the time when Francesca must have died.”

  He set the onyx down with an ominous thud. However, since so much was coming out, Kelsey went on doggedly.

  “Marisa said that Francesca broke her Nairobi beads here in the library that day of the broadcast.”

  “What about the beads?” he asked, suddenly alert.

  “She said Francesca was so upset with you that she jerked at the chain, and the beads flew all over the room.”

  “I remember. I’d have liked to wind them around her neck!”

  “Are you always so violent about everything?”

  He glared at her and she returned his look as steadily as she could manage. “Marisa told me that Jody found three of the beads after Francesca had left the house. What happened to them?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “I asked because three beads turned up yesterday on Denis’s desk at the inn. Denis seemed upset when he saw them, and he said you must have been in his office.”

  “He’s crazy! Why should this interest you?”

  “I suppose everything interests me. I keep telling everyone that I might be able to help Jody more if I understood what it is that frightens him so much. Do you realize how scared he is of you? Sometimes, when you merely stand in the doorway, he goes into that spastic stiffening. Perhaps he’d improve more quickly if you could help him not to be so frightened.”

  Tyler’s expression darkened and his brows drew down. Kelsey was reminded again of the photograph she’d seen at Marisa’s. This was a tortured man, and she wondered what had happened in his life to haunt him so. The long-ago childhood tragedy wasn’t enough to account for his suffering now. Yet the photograph told her that his torment had been present before Francesca died and his wife and son were injured. She wished she could help him as well as Jody—and knew clearly the treacherous direction of her own feelings.

  As she sat silent, waiting for an angry response, some of his tension seemed to lessen.

  “Thanks, Kelsey. I’m glad you told me. I don’t mean to go around scaring people. I know I’m to blame with Jody. I didn’t dream he could understand, and I suppose I must have said a lot of things that upset him—words I’d never have spoken if I’d realized that he could hear me. I’ll try to get past his fears, if I can, and if you’ll help me. Maybe another outing?”

  “That would be fine,” Kelsey said, “if it doesn’t end the way the last one did.”

  The thundercloud had lifted, and he managed one of his unexpected grins. “I’ll try to behave. What Jody did scared me, and I suppose I took off. I’ll tell you what happened to the beads. When the chain broke, Francesca had a fit. She said they were her good luck beads, and she had to retrieve every one of them. We all scrambled around looking for them. After she’d gone, Jody turned up three more. I took them from him, and when I came back to my study I put them here on my desk. Nasty looking little carvings—typical of Francesca’s taste for the weird. Since I meant to pick up the invitation that she made on the air, I was going to take the beads with me and give them to her when I went to Flaming Tree the next day. But when I looked for them before I left, they’d disappeared. After what happened to Francesca, I didn’t give them another thought until now. Does it really matter?”

  “It seemed to matter to Denis. But it’s only Jody who’s important now.”

  He studied her with a new intensity, his look so direct that she felt disconcerted. It was as though he wanted to see inside her very brain.

  “I like the way you care about him,” he said. “The way you open yourself up to caring.”

  “Of course I care. I never want to reach the place where I seal off my own feelings.”

  “That must be rough at times. Isn’t there a special danger of transference with Jody? I mean a risk because of your own loss. It might be hard to let go and give him up when the time comes.”

  He had reached inside her and stirred up the pain that always lay near the surface. She looked out the window at green pine tops and the distant ocean. She willed herself to walk on a beach with the fog coming in and a piper stepping slowly along the sand. If she could just recover that dreamlike moment, then perhaps she could put the pain away from her.

  “I’m sorry,” Tyler said gently. “Of course there’s that danger, and I suppose you have to face it with each child from now on.” He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, he surprised her. “What do you say, Kelsey—shall we find that dog for Jody?”

  She blinked at his sudden change of course. “I’d like that, but what about Ruth?”

  “Maybe we can just show her the dog, an
d then keep him out of her sight the rest of the time. She might even accept him for Jody’s sake.”

  The trip to Monterey was strangely pleasant—almost as though Tyler had turned into a different man. She’d never seen him in a light mood before, and she knew he was making a special effort. She threw caution aside, and let herself relax and enjoy the trip. La Casa de la Sombra belonged to another world. For now, however recklessly, she accepted her pleasure in being with Tyler in his new mood. For this little while she would permit herself to like him.

  He had brought with him an ad he’d torn from the Pine Cone, Carmel’s local paper. A woman in Monterey was moving away and wanted someone to take her dog. No special breed, and not a puppy. A small dog. So they were going to see her.

  Like San Francisco, Monterey was built on steep hills that plunged at several levels toward the water—with Cannery Row at the bottom. Only one active cannery remained, and the fame Steinbeck had brought to the street had turned it into a tourists’ row, with shops, restaurants, and various attractions. They drove to a rooming house a block or two off the Row. Since Tyler had phoned ahead, the woman was waiting for them on the front porch, sitting in a rocker with a sandy little dog in her lap.

  Her health forced her to give up her house, she explained a bit tearfully. She must move in with relatives, and she wanted a good home for her little friend. Sandy (naturally) had a muzzle that resembled that of a Scottish terrier, and a lively tail that was mostly mutt.

  “He’s very smart,” the woman said. “And he loves everybody.”

  Sandy demonstrated this quickly, and seemed not to mind coming with them. He’d had shots and he owned a license on his collar, and a leash. Tyler carried him to the car, where he sat on Kelsey’s knees, looking out the window with interest. He seemed to be the sort of dog who would adjust to change without too much brooding.

  “We’ll let Jody name him,” Tyler said, optimistic for once.

  It was strange and unreasonable, Kelsey thought, to feel happy and hopeful. Part of this emotional response was because of the dog, so warm and alive on her lap. But the greater part, as she recognized, was the presence of the man beside her. He too was warm and alive, and she was very close to wanting something she could never have. That was dangerous, since she mustn’t open the way to still more pain.

  Once, while they waited for a stoplight, Tyler looked at her with the same searching intensity she’d felt before, except that now there seemed an air of discovery—as if of himself as well as of her. He reached out to stroke the dog, and it was as if he had touched Kelsey. But this was no longer something she could be happy about, and she was afraid.

  When they reached the house, and Tyler parked the car, he moved suddenly past her guard. Again, without touching her, without even looking at her, he gently destroyed the defense she’d needed to raise against him.

  “Thank you, Kelsey. You’ve brought life into what was a hopeless situation before you came. Whether Jody and Ruth ever get well entirely, you’ve at least made me want to start living again. Can you take a responsibility like that?”

  His last words teased her almost tenderly, and she put her cheek against Sandy’s coat to hide any self-betrayal she might reveal. She couldn’t endure kindness and gratitude from him. Not when so much more that was still unexpressed might lie behind the kindness. As long as no one spoke the words, she might still be safe.

  She opened the car door hurriedly and got out, with Sandy in her arms. Tyler took her elbow on the way down the steps to steady her, and she knew very well that he recognized her confusion and distress. But she wouldn’t give herself away any more than she already had.

  When they were inside, Tyler carried the dog straight to Jody’s room, where the boy sat in his chair. Kelsey followed, putting aside all except her eagerness to see what would happen now. Ginnie, looking delighted, watched as Tyler held the dog close to Jody’s face, and then placed him on his knees. After a moment of turning around uneasily, the animal stood on his hind legs with his front paws on Jody’s chest, and looked him lovingly in the eye. When he started licking Jody’s face enthusiastically, Ginnie pulled him off.

  “Hey—Jody’s been washed today. He doesn’t need your help.”

  Jody’s eyes followed the small dog as Ginnie held him.

  “Let me have him for a moment,” Kelsey said, and put the lively little body near Jody’s hand. “Pet him, Jody. I think he’d like that.”

  The boy made a tremendous effort and moved a finger, touching the dog.

  “That’s good, Jody. We’ll work on that.” She took his hand and moved it to stroke the furry head. The dog wriggled his ecstasy.

  “You can name him, Jody,” Tyler said. “Can you think of a good name to give him?”

  Jody allowed his hand to be stroked along the dog’s back, and again he made a visible effort. Finally he blew out a new sound: “Woof.”

  “You want to name him Woof?” Tyler asked.

  “No!” Jody was emphatic. “Woof!”

  Kelsey tried an interpretation. “I think he means Wolf.”

  “Sss,” Jody said, agreeing.

  Tyler bent to give his son a hug. “Good—Wolf it is.”

  The un-wolflike little dog seemed pleased with all this attention, but after a few moments he settled down on Jody’s lap and went to sleep—perhaps wearied by so much human emotion.

  “It’s going to work,” Kelsey said softly. “Wolf is going to help a lot. Jody, we’ll need to work hard to get you to stand and take some steps. Wolf needs you to walk him around. For now, I can do that for you some of the time. Remember, your new dog has just left someone he loved, and he’ll need a lot of loving from you to make up for that.”

  Jody was staring at his father, and for once all the fear had gone out of him. He was behaving as he had at the beginning of the visit to Tor House.

  “Ank,” he said clearly.

  Tyler understood. “You’re welcome, kid,” he said, and his voice broke a little.

  “Does Ruth know you were going to do this?” Ginnie asked.

  “We’re going to tell her. I’ll carry you upstairs, Jody, and we’ll show your mother your new friend. We know she doesn’t like dogs, but maybe she’ll feel better when she sees this one.”

  Kelsey lifted the dog off Jody’s knees and snapped on the leash, while Tyler picked his son up in arms that were very gentle. He carried him out of the room, and Ginnie rolled her eyes at Kelsey, clearly worried about Ruth’s reaction.

  Kelsey followed with Wolf trotting beside her, pulling away now and then to investigate a strange and interesting house.

  Dora met them at the door, immediately uncertain at the sight of both Jody and a dog, “I’d better talk to Ruth before you come in,” she said.

  Tyler shook his head. “If you warn her, she’ll object. Let’s try surprise, so she can see how harmless this little dog is, and how much he means to Jody.”

  Ruth sat in her wheelchair, once more staring out a window. Tyler carried Jody to her and placed him deliberately in her arms. Kelsey held back with the dog, praying Jody wouldn’t stiffen and make everything hard. For once he seemed relaxed, and when Ruth held him with his head on her shoulder, he stayed quiet, almost as though this was what he’d needed all along.

  “We want you to meet a new member of the family,” Tyler told her, and Kelsey pulled Wolf forward. “Jody has named him himself, and we’re all going along with Wolf.”

  Ruth’s eyes widened, but with Jody in her arms she managed to speak quietly. “You know how I feel about dogs.”

  “It will be all right, Ruth,” Tyler said. “He’s a small, harmless little fellow, as you can see. We’ll keep him out of your room, and it isn’t as though you’ll be moving around the house where you could run into him.”

  It was the wrong thing to say, and Ruth’s expression changed. “Take Jody, please. And take that dog away. Don’t ask any more of me now. It’s too much—the way Jody is …”

  As Tyler lifted J
ody from his mother’s lap the boy stiffened, and his eyes rolled back.

  Kelsey spoke to him quickly. “It’s all right, Jody. Your mother doesn’t understand how well you’re doing. Mrs. Hammond, Jody is learning new words every day. He’s trying hard to move and to talk. One of these days he’ll show you.”

  Ruth moved a hand weakly and looked away from her son. At once Dora rushed forward, angry with Tyler.

  “Just take that dog away, and leave—both of you! This is enough damage for one day. Everyone behaves as though Jody were the only one who needs help. No one thinks of Ruth but me.”

  Jody began to gasp for breath, and Tyler carried him from the room. Kelsey pulled at Wolf’s leash and hurried after them. For the first time she wondered if Dora were really good for her daughter. That Dora already disliked and resented Tyler was very clear, and so was her obsessive determination to protect Ruth. From what? What could so frighten Ruth and her mother?

  Back in Jody’s room, the boy was put to bed and Ginnie ministered to him capably. While Tyler stood watching, Jody gradually relaxed. Wolf, no longer the center of attention, stood on his hind legs and pawed at Kelsey’s knee.

  “Jody will be all right now,” Ginnie assured them. “Just let him rest for a while. Come back later, Kelsey.”

  Kelsey handed Wolf’s leash to Tyler. “He’s yours for now,” she said, and fled from the room, not daring to wait for what he might say this time.

  Outside, she hurried to her aunt’s car and sat for a moment at the wheel, trying to collect herself. What had started out hopefully, if perhaps not wisely on Tyler’s part, had turned into a disaster, and for the moment she wanted only to get away. Every time Jody seemed to make progress, either Tyler or Ruth turned emotional and threw him back into his helpless state.

 

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