The two of them worked well together, and at nine-fifteen, Ben suggested they quit for the night. “We’ve accomplished more than I hoped we would. I’ll have to work on the roof some tomorrow, and it won’t take me long to clean the apartment. I’d better check it for repairs – see what I might need, so I’ll have it with me.”
Ben was trying the faucets at the sink in the apartment’s bathroom when he heard Donnie remark, “There must have been a stairway here at one time.”
Stairway! Ben turned off the water immediately and went to the door. Donnie was standing at the open double doors of the closet. Ben joined him and saw what Donnie was looking at- a sloping ceiling on the left side of the closet. The house had had a stairway! Just like Addie had said. He looked across the room. That wide opening into the small kitchen could have been French doors. He rushed into the kitchen of the main house and began pounding on the wall where the entrance to the stairway would have been. It was most definitely a hollow sound. There was one other thing he had to check. He was aware that Donnie was watching him curiously.
“Go ahead and get in the truck. We have to go,” Ben said to Donnie. “I’ll be there in just a minute.”
He followed Donnie to the front door, turning out lights as he went. As soon as the boy was out the door, Ben hurried to the living room, his pocket knife in his hand. He had seen some loose wallpaper over the mantle where it had become separated from the wall. He had thought he might need to tighten it up. He was glad now that he hadn’t gotten around to it.
He took his knife and started pulling the loose paper up from behind the mantle. As soon as he had it up he saw the corner of something else that must have fallen into the crack between the mantle and the wall. With the edge of his knife blade, he eased the object up until he could get hold of it. It was a yellowed, black and white photograph of a man standing beside a woman who was obviously pregnant and seated in a rocking chair before a large stone fireplace. The woman’s arm was around a little girl who looked like her. The child stood between the man and the woman. He put the picture in his jacket pocket and began peeling back layers of the wallpaper until he found what he was looking for. The very last layer of wallpaper had faded, small pink roses on it.
Ben stared at it for several seconds, then wearily put it in his jacket pocket. For some reason, his stomach felt like somebody had just kicked him in it. He slowly left the house, locking the door behind him. He was silent, deep in thought, as he drove Donnie to the Johnson’s house on Forrest Lane. The boy seemed to understand that he needed the silence. He didn’t speak until they were turning into the Johnson’s driveway.
“Addie was right about the house, wasn’t she?” he said.
“Seems she was.”
“There’s something wrong, isn’t there, Mr. Martin?”
“I’m afraid there is, Donnie, but Heaven only knows what. Good night, and thanks for helping me.”
Chapter Seven
Della sat on the white, velvet sofa. The brass lamp on the cherry wood table beside her, another treasured find at the yard and garage sales, which she attended regularly, cast its light on the open Bible in her lap. She had been reading the story of Jesus casting out demons from two men in the eighth chapter of the book of Matthew. She had looked up several other passages of Scripture on demons, and had been pondering the subject for the past hour. She could not believe that Addie was possessed by a demon. This other person, this other personality, whatever it was, didn’t seem to want to harm Addie. The harm, as Della could see it, was that this person was taking over her daughter at times, and this was causing Addie anguish and torment, along with very deep concern and unhappiness. It wasn’t letting her child lead a normal life.
It had to end before it went any further. Before the periods of its taking over became more frequent. Before it took over her child completely, until Addie was no longer her Addie. Somebody had to help get rid of this person. But who was capable of doing such a thing? How could it be done? The sound of the back door opening and closing interrupted Della’s thoughts. It would be Ben. Still, she sat there. Shortly, he came into the room.
“Hi, honey,” he said as he kissed Della’s upturned face.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“I could use some coffee and some of your good cookies. I peeped in on Addie. She seems to be sleeping soundly. Has she eaten anything?”
“No. She hasn’t awakened. She was so exhausted, I thought it best to let her sleep. Della wanted to rush right in telling Ben all that Addie had said, all that she had been thinking about as she waited for him, but she knew better. She knew Ben too well. She had to handle this just right. She prayed that she could.
“What happened after I left?” Ben wanted to know as he followed Della to the kitchen and sank down into a chair at the small table. “Did you learn what frightened her so?”
“She doesn’t really know what frightened her,” Della answered as she prepared the coffee.
“Well, what do you make of it?”
Della didn’t attempt to answer until she was setting a plate of cookies on the table and sat down in front of her husband. “The most important thing is – what does Addie make of it?” she answered.
Ben looked at her, puzzled.
She had to do this just right, or Ben would never believe her. For Ben, what there was, was what he saw. There was nothing more and nothing less. Everything had to have a logical explanation, and certainly, no supernatural, which this most definitely was.
“You see, Ben,” she began, “it seems that Addie has a problem. She’s had it as far back as she can remember – probably all of her life, and she hasn’t told us about it. She really didn’t know it was a problem until she was about ten. She thought everybody was like her ...”
“What on earth are you talking about? What kind of a problem?” he asked as he devoured the cookies.
Patience, she told herself. “Honey, Addie refers to it as having two memories. At least, that’s the only way she knows to describe it.” Ben was looking at her with a frown on his face. “One memory is her own,” she continued, “but the other one belongs to someone who lived a long time ago – about fifty years ago as best as we can determine.” Della was watching Ben’s face. He had stopped eating. He was as stunned as she had thought he would be. “And apparently, this other memory belongs to a young girl,” she added quickly to get in as much information as she could before he exploded.
“That’s crazy!” he exclaimed irritably. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard! Where’d she get such an idea? Are you sure about the drugs?” he demanded.
And he thought he could handle anything as long as it wasn’t drugs, Della thought. “Yes, Ben, I am. Now, just listen to me, please,” she begged patiently.
“She’s been reading too many books! Or watching too much television!” he exclaimed.
“Lower your voice,” Della demanded. “You’ll wake her. And no, Ben this did not come from books or the TV. Addie doesn’t read much of anything that’s not required by her schooling, and you see the same TV programs that she does since we have only one set, and it’s rarely ever turned on until you get home.” Della could tell that Ben was becoming very agitated.
She had to make him understand, at least as much as she, herself, understood – for Addie’s sake. “This other person has had to have lived in the house on South Street, and Addie thinks she also lived in the log house that’s now the Log House Restaurant.”
“Now how could she know a thing like that? Did she tell you all this?” he asked in a calmer voice, which surprised Della. He was looking at her in an interested manner as he sipped from the cup he held in both hands. Still, there was that look of disbelief.
“Remember when we went to the Log House for your birthday, and Addie became so ill she couldn’t eat?”
“Sure.”
“Well, she says it was a kind of homesickness that she felt, like when she went away to camp for the first time. And she recogniz
ed the doll and doll buggy that was displayed on the hearth as toys she used to play with, or this other person used to play with. And, Ben, when she was talking about the place, she became another person. She wasn’t our ...”
“Della, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Ben, you asked me what happened after you left. I’m trying to tell you. Do you want to know or not?” Della demanded impatiently.
“Yes, I want to know,” he answered flatly.
So Della told him everything that Addie had said to her, and the way she had acted, and Ben listened as he sipped every now and then at a fresh cup of coffee. But Della had a feeling that she just might as well have been telling him about a program she had seen on TV. When she finished, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her.
“I can’t imagine anything like this happening to us,” she added quietly, “but it has, and I’m afraid.”
Finally, Ben spoke. “Della, you’re sitting here telling me that there is something abnormal about our daughter. That she’s got some kind of weird mental problem? Well, I don’t believe it for one second. Addie has always been the most level headed, normal kid you could find anywhere. Now, I know she was frightened out of her wits by something at that house, and yeah, she ...”
“Ben!” Della interrupted, “I’m telling you that it wasn’t Addie who became so frightened and hysterical out at that house. And it wasn’t Addie, who was telling me about the rocking chair, and doll and doll buggy at the Log House. This other person was controlling Addie at both times. This other person taking over Addie is something new to her, and this is what scares me. What if she begins to take over more and more – even to the point of taking over completely?” Della asked frantically.
For a moment, she thought Ben was going to laugh, as a faint, sarcastic smile played about his lips.
“Della,” he said calmly, “I think you’re the one who’s been reading too much, or watching too much television, and I think you need to take Addie to see Dr. Bradley and get something for her nerves. All that ails her is nerves. Probably too much studying for mid-term exams.”
“Mid-term exams was three months ago! Haven’t you been listening to me?” Della had raised her voice angrily, and knew she shouldn’t have.
“Sure! You’re making our daughter out to be some kind of a nut. Well, I don’t believe it! Two memories! Lord have mercy!”
“You think she’s lying?”
“No! I’m not saying she’s lying. Addie doesn’t lie.” Ben paused, looking down at the empty cup he still held in both hands. “Look, maybe there is something wrong with her, but we don’t know what it is, and she’s just a child. How could she know?”
“Addie is sixteen years old. That’s not exactly a child. Good Lord! I was a mother at sixteen,” Della exclaimed, her patience exhausted.
“I know that!” Ben shot back. “I married you because you were going to be a mother at sixteen. Remember?” he demanded.
Della was shocked! “Keep your voice down! You’ll wake her. And no! I don’t remember that you married me because I was going to be a mother at sixteen. What I do remember is your exact words. You said, ‘Well, I asked Jimmie Lee if she wanted to marry me, but she won’t leave you ma until Odell gets himself killed, or she kills him, and I’ve got this factory job in Nashville. I figure I’m going to be too tired after working all day in a factory to come home and do my own cooking and laundry, so, I need to get married. I’m willing to take a chance on you, if you’re willing to take a chance on me?”
“Oh, now, Della!” Ben said angrily, standing up and taking off his jacket. He reached into his pocket to take out his keys. The black and white photograph fell to the floor and under the table, unnoticed by either of them. He laid his keys and the scrap of wallpaper down on the table. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, and you know it. I’m glad I married you.”
“Well, big deal!” Della exclaimed. “I didn’t ask you to marry me!”
“Oh! And just what do you think would have happened to you if I hadn’t? He, whoever he was, wasn’t around to marry you, or to look after you.”
Della was staring at the scrap of faded wallpaper with pink roses. She grabbed it up and shoved it in Ben’s face. “This came from the living room wall of that house on South Street! Didn’t it?” she demanded. “Just like Addie described it?” She could see from the look on his face that she was right. “You said there wasn’t any wallpaper with pink roses!”
“Well, there is! There’s also a stairway, or was one. It’s covered up now, but it’s there, and probably French doors at one time to a side porch!”
“Why did you say there wasn’t?”
“Because I didn’t know it then!”
“And you weren’t going to tell me! Were you?”
“Della, shut up!” he demanded, lowering his voice to just above a whisper.
“You knew she was telling the truth. You had proof of it all along. You just didn’t want to accept the fact that Addie has a problem that we don’t know how to handle. Ben Martin, you’re like an ostrich with its head in the sand.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure you do, Miss Know-it-all,” Ben said getting up and picking up his jacket to leave the room.
“I know one thing,” Della said. “My daughter needs help, and I’m going to see that she gets it.”
Ben stopped in the kitchen doorway, his back to Della. Without turning around, he said, “Yeah, Della, I’d say ‘your’ daughter needs help. Be sure to get ‘your’ daughter some help, and I’ll pay for it.” Then he took the few steps into the hallway to the bathroom, went in and slammed the door with such force it shook the small house.
The sudden loud noise startled Addie so that she let out a small cry, as she sat on the side of her bed, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She clasped her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear anymore. She had never heard her parents argue and shout at each other like that before. It wasn’t the arguing and shouting, but what they were saying. Our daughter, my daughter, your daughter – whose daughter was she? Her daddy was not her daddy!
Her mother had been pregnant with her when she married Ben! And Ben was not her daddy! My daddy is not my daddy! Her insides seemed to wail the news over and over. She felt like she had suddenly been drained of all energy, and she was physically ill. She lay back down and buried her face in her pillow, crying desperately, her body shaking with her sobbing. My daddy is not my daddy! My daddy is not my daddy! The phrase kept repeating itself over and over in her mind.
She didn’t want to know that terrible truth. How could she make it go away? It was all ‘her’ fault – that other person who lived inside of her.
Why was she there? How could she get rid of her? Why couldn’t she be just Addie Martin – just one person? Did Ben still love her? Would he ever love her again? She didn’t want to know that her daddy wasn’t her daddy!
She thought of the time when she was about eight years old. Saturdays was her and Ben’s day. He carried her with him everywhere he went on Saturdays, that she could go. It was their special time to be together, and she looked forward to it all week long. Then suddenly, there was more places that he ‘just couldn’t take a little girl’ he would say, than there was places she could go with him.
Things had changed right after they had gone to Miller’s Hardware Store one Saturday morning to get the door for the new utility room. Several men were snickering and laughing at something one of them had said about a ‘nigger in a wood pile’. Ben had turned red in the face as Mr. Miller was adding up his bill. But then, he had told Mr. Miller that he could put all the stuff back, he’d take his business somewhere else. Then he had taken her hand and they had walked out of the store.
So that’s what they meant, she thought, the tears having subsided now. She wondered why she hadn’t remembered that until now? Never before had she thought what an odd sight the three of them must make – a blond Della with violet blue eyes, and Ben with his brown h
air and brown eyes, and her bright red hair and green eyes. Did everyone know except her? Maybe most people thought she was adopted. She hoped they did.
Only once had she ever asked why she had red hair and green eyes when neither of them did, and she now recalled the surprised look in Della’s eyes when Ben said, “Why, you mean we’ve never told you?” Then how relieved she had looked when he added, “It’s because you’re a princess. Only a princess can have red hair and green eyes. That’s the only way you can tell a princess from the rest of the people. Now, just what kind of a world would this be if princesses went around looking like everybody else?” Then he had hugged and kissed her, and she had been so delighted with his answer that nothing else mattered. And then he had started calling her princess. Would she still be his princess? Was he still her daddy?
She heard her mother’s footsteps crossing the kitchen linoleum. Quickly, she pulled the blanket and sheet up around her face and pretended to be asleep. Her bedroom door opened, and Della came in quietly, rearranged her covers and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Then she stood silently by her for several moments.
Addie could tell from her mother’s breathing that she had been crying. She wanted to reach out to her – to be taken into her arms, to be told that what she had heard was not true, that Ben was her daddy. But even her mother couldn’t make the truth go away. It was there and had to be dealt with just like the terror she had experienced hours before had to be dealt with. But how? Why couldn’t this whole day be a bad dream?
Addie felt so guilty. It was all ‘her’ fault – all our fault. She was not one person, she was two. As long as she could remember, she had been two people. That was the way it was. And for the first time she felt a sort of bond between herself and this other person.
The Daughters of Julian Dane Page 8