by Lily Cahill
“I—yes. But I still don’t understand,” Cora said. “I remember being on the island last night, but—”
“It wasn’t last night. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
“No. Tell me I wasn’t. It can’t have been three days. What about Mrs. Felder’s mending? And I’ve a cake due to Mrs. Stewart tonight. I have to get home.”
Cora tried to stand, but Bethany stopped her.
“Don’t move. Please. Mrs. Felder and Mrs. Stewart will understand, I promise. The fog made all of us at the festival sick.”
The fog. Cora remembered it now, how strange it was, how oddly colored. Like an entire field of violets had shed their petals into the wind. She had thought at first that it was something from the festival—some leftover firework smoke drifting its way toward her. Then she had tasted it, and known to run the other way. She didn’t remember turning around, though. She didn’t remember anything until this very moment.
“Most of us recovered pretty fast. But some people got extra sick. Like you and Butch,” Bethany said. “The whole town knows about it. We’ve all been praying for you.”
“Who else got sick? How many people like me?”
“All total, twenty-eight people. If it wasn’t for the Army doctors, I don’t know what we would have done. They swooped in like true heroes and saved all our lives. Well … mostly everyone.”
Bethany’s face fell and fear gripped Cora’s heart.
“Not everyone—not everyone made it, Cora.”
Cora shut her eyes tight. “Who?”
Clayton’s face formed behind her lids—that smile, those eyes.
“Jan Clarkson. They found her on the island too—on the beach.”
Cora opened her eyes. Jan? She didn’t know her well. But Jan was so strong—a sporty type, a ranch girl, the captain of the women’s softball team. She was most certainly stronger than Cora.
“Poor Jan,” Bethany’s voice was choking on tears. “It’s just so tragic. We had the funeral this morning.”
Cora couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What had happened to them? How could it be possible that someone in their little town had died?
“How about the others?” she asked. Clayton’s face still loomed in her mind.
“Everyone else seems to have pulled through, or close to it. It was only poor Jan who didn’t survive.”
Relief washed through her. Then a pang of guilt. She had been so focused on Clayton that she hadn’t even thought to ask after her own brother.
“You said Butch got sick too?”
“Yes, but they released him earlier this morning. I was so scared, Cora. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you and got stuck with him.” Bethany’s eyes got shiny again, and Cora struggled to sit up so she could take her sister in her arms. “I couldn’t bear it you left me with Daddy and Butch. I truly couldn’t.”
“I’m fine, little bee,” Cora said. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Just then, old Dr. Pinkerton slipped inside the curtained area with a nurse who Cora didn’t recognize. Dr. Pinkerton looked haggard, tired. So tired that she wondered if he’d slept at all in the last three days.
“Miss Murphy. Excellent to see you’re feeling better. You gave us quite a scare.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Cora said with a weak smile. “Can you tell me what exactly happened?”
“I wish I could. As it stands we’re not fully sure what was in that fog or where it came from. We have a whole contingent from the military looking into it now. Some are discussing the possibility of a Soviet attack.”
Cora’s brow furrowed. She watched the newsreels just like everyone else, and she knew the Soviets were always plotting to destroy America. Still, she was shocked to think they might have targeted little Independence Falls. “You’re kidding,” Cora said. “That’s awful.”
“Well, if it was the Soviets, they failed miserably,” Dr. Pinkerton said. “Twenty seven of our strongest young people pulled through.”
Cora was taken aback. His words seemed insensitive in light of their loss. How could this be a victory? Jan Clarkson hadn’t survived. Then something else about his words struck her.
“Young people?”
“All those effected the worst were young,” Bethany said.
“Not a one over thirty. But never underestimate the power of the American spirit. That’s what I always say,” Dr. Pinkerton said. “Now let’s get you checked out so you can go home.”
He pressed his stethoscope to her heart and took her blood pressure.
“You’re doing very well. I’ll need to see you in my office for some follow-up blood work, of course. But you’re welcome to go home to your family as soon as you like,” Dr. Pinkerton said, giving a warm smile to Bethany. “I’m sure they’ve missed you.”
The walk home was full of sunshine and Cora felt herself soaking up every bit. As it turned out, Cora hadn’t been in a hospital at all, but an infirmary set up inside the town hall. She was glad now that her feet could take her home.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can ask Butch to come get you in his truck.”
“It’s a beautiful day. I’d rather walk.” There was no way she’d let Bethany ask Butch for a ride. They’d both end up owing him for who knew how long. Besides, it felt good to stretch her legs. They felt strong and able. It was hard to believe she had been sick at all.
“You have to take it easy, Cora. Dr. Pinkerton said so.”
“He said no such thing.”
“Well, he should have.”
“I’m fine. And I promise to tell you if I feel even a little bit queasy, okay?”
“Okay,” Bethany finally agreed. Then a mischievous look passed across her face. “But only if you tell me about Clayton Briggs. I know we’re supposed to hate them, but I think he’s dreamy.”
A wave of shame passed over Cora. What a fool she’d been. The more she thought about it, the more it felt like the whole thing had been a trick.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“You wouldn’t,” Bethany warned.
“I wouldn’t what?”
“Keep this from me. I know you went to the island with him. Everyone was talking about it. They said you made it all the way across. And I know what happens on the island.”
“Oh really? And what is that?”
“Kissing.” Bethany raised her eyebrows. “And other love stuff.”
Cora laughed. Bethany was a terrible liar—clearly bluffing.
“Don’t laugh. Ella told me so. She said that most of the babies in town got made on that island. Did you make a baby, Cora?”
“Bethany!”
“What? I know how babies get made.”
“I certainly hope not.”
“I told you. I’m not a kid anymore. Besides, it’s true, isn’t it? That most of the babies get made on the island?”
“If that were true, then everyone in town would be born in January. But I suppose you know that since you’re the expert on babies.”
“All I know is that it happens when two people love each other and kiss a whole lot. Then the girl’s belly gets huge until the baby comes out.”
Cora sighed. “Please stop talking, little bee. You’re too young to talk like this.”
But she knew it wouldn’t be long at all before Bethany learned all there was to know about such things. Independence Falls had been founded around a brothel, and it was in the town charter that everyone received sex education starting in high school. She was at least glad she wouldn’t have to be the one to explain things.
“Just tell me that if you didn’t make a baby with Clayton Briggs, you’ll try, okay?”
“Bethany!”
“Please? You’d make the most beautiful babies together. And I would make the most wonderful aunt.”
“You can’t say those kinds of things. I did not make a baby. Women without husbands don’t do that sort of thing. Especially if they ever want to h
ave a life of their own. And I plan on having a life. I have no intention of having a baby for many, many years.”
“But Cora—!”
“And when I do, it certainly won’t be with Clayton Briggs.”
“But he must have at least kissed you? Otherwise why would he take you all the way out there?”
“It doesn’t matter why he took me out there. It’s none of your business.”
“He did kiss you!”
“Stop it.”
Bethany began to skip. “Clayton and Cora sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Bethany stopped skipping. She went completely silent as her eyes grew wide. “Does this mean we’re going to be rich now, Cora?”
“Honestly, Bethany. Think before you talk.”
“Well, does it?”
“We weren’t even on a date. And we’re not going to go on one. It was one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. He’s a Briggs.”
“I knew it! I knew he kissed you. What was it like? Did it taste funny? Did he use his tongue? Ella says that she saw her brother Danny kissing a girl and it looked like they were eating each other’s faces off. She thinks boys use their tongue for kissing sometimes and you can taste what they had for breakfast. I wouldn’t like to taste anyone’s breakfast, especially if they liked onions.”
Cora stopped the laugh before it left her chest—coughing for cover. She had to keep herself together. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she lost control right now. She would either smack Bethany’s bottom, or laugh louder than she had ever laughed in her life. Cora was certain that Bethany wouldn’t appreciate either response.
“I’m going to tell you one thing. Just one, okay? Then we’re going to stop talking about this.”
“Okay. What?” Bethany asked.
“Ella doesn’t know a thing about kissing. Not a single thing. And that is the end of the discussion. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“So it was a good kiss!”
Cora sighed. Some battles were best fought in silence.
CHAPTER SIX
Cora
Cora walked through the door with Bethany and saw three men sitting at the kitchen table eating giant sandwiches and drinking beer. The first was Butch, Cora’s beefy older brother. Next to him was Ralph, Butch’s annoying, ruddy-faced friend. And finally, Cora’s father, Huck—a man who spent more time drunk than sober and looked twenty years older than his forty-one years because of it. All of them had the characteristically dull eyes that told Cora they were already tipsy, even though it was only just four o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. Which might have explained the mess.
All the makings of the sandwiches were scattered across the table: the last crust of the bread Cora had made only a few days ago, the empty butcher’s wrap that once held the entire week’s supply of bologna, and a scraped-clean mustard jar. There was even a tin of sugar spilled across the table that no one had bothered to sweep back up. Surely they hadn’t used sugar in the sandwiches? If a stranger had come in, they would have assumed a child had been there.
She wasn’t even going to ask where they had gotten money for beer. It certainly hadn’t been from an honest day’s work. Not a single one of them had a steady job. They made their money through odd jobs or gambling or other such things that Cora tried not to think about—and tried to shield Bethany from at all costs.
“Butch!” Bethany whined. “I had it perfect before I left. What did you do?”
Butch cast her a glance that made her go quiet.
“Wasn’t anything else to eat around here,” he said. “What’d you expect?”
“Shoulda’ been somethin’ in the ice box, you ask me.” Huck said, glaring at Cora. “It ain’t right for the head of the household to have to fend for himself.”
Cora sighed. She knew she shouldn’t have expected her father and brother to welcome her home with open arms, but the words still stung. What was she supposed to do? Tell the future? Couldn’t they fend for themselves for even three days? They hadn’t even asked how she was feeling. The two of them were selfish brutes and she’d have left home long ago if she hadn’t known Bethany would have to fill her shoes.
“I’m sorry, Cora,” Bethany whispered. “I tried. I swear.”
Cora squeezed Bethany’s shoulders and whispered in her ear. “I know, baby. Why don’t you go out to the bushes by the river and see if you can’t find us any chokecherries for supper?”
Bethany glanced over at the men and conceded, walking out the same door she had just walked in. Cora set about to clean up the mess.
“I heard you were sick too, Butch,” Cora ventured, half hoping that it would rouse some sort of interest in her own ordeal. “How are you feeling?”
“What do you care?” Butch grunted. “You writin’ a book?”
She knew that was the most compassion she would get from him. The two of them had been close once, when they were very young. But years of their father’s cruelty had slowly pulled them apart. Cora missed the old Butch—the one who taught her to skip rocks at Perseverance Lake, the one who used to carry her books to school when she was too little to carry them herself. But that had been a long time now, before their mother had died.
She often wondered what would happen when their father was gone. Would Butch relax back into the person he’d been all those years ago, or would he follow in the self-destructive path of their father? Lately, the days were few and far between when she thought there was still hope for him.
Ralph stood up and let out a long burp, eyeing Cora to see if it impressed her. It did not. Cora ignored him and kept working, but he sidled up next to her, leaning on the counter like he was smooth as butter.
“Sure lookin’ good there, Cora,” Ralph said. “You should get sick more often. It agrees with you.”
Cora sidestepped him. If she had ever thought of Ralph that way—which she hadn’t—she certainly didn’t now. Clayton’s kiss had set the standard. He wasn’t truly interested in her, she knew that. But she wasn’t interested in kissing anyone else unless it was as good a kiss as his had been. The memory of it lingered on her lips like dusted sugar.
That kiss. She couldn’t tell Bethany earlier—Bethany was too excitable. But that kiss. It might have been the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced. Maybe one day she’d find someone who could kiss her like that again.
“Your cheeks are all flushed,” Ralph said, getting close to her again. His voice was hushed and thick as he trailed a finger down her arm. “Thinking about me?”
Cora slapped his hand away. “Back off, Ralph. I wouldn’t think about you if you were the last man on earth.”
Butch and Huck let out a guffaw, but made no effort to help.
“Good luck with that one,” Huck said. “She’s never been one for the boys. Cold hearted.”
“Maybe she likes girls,” Ralph said. “I could work with that.”
Huck and Butch cracked up.
“That true, Cora?” Butch asked. “You got a girlfriend?”
“Don’t worry,” Ralph said. “One night with me and I’ll make you forget all about her.”
“You’re all ridiculous. You know that?” Cora said. “Now get out of my way. I have work to do.”
That’s what I get for daydreaming, Cora thought as she hauled a bundle of laundry outside for washing. It had been silly to waste time thinking about that kiss. She should have been thinking about how to get herself and Bethany out of this place. Could she really stand to put up with them for another four years while Bethany went to high school? The thought made the load in her hands feel ten times heavier.
Bethany had so many friends and would miss them terribly if they left. But staying was looking increasingly difficult. Cora imagined all the days ahead of her—days of cooking and cleaning and working so hard that she was left with nothing when she went to sleep at night. Maybe it would be better to go now, this summer, before Bethany started high school in the fall. Maybe that would give her a chance to make new friends in a
new place.
Her mind churned through all the old worries as she considered her options, dumping the laundry into the old tin tub at the back of the house. Would her father even allow her to take Bethany before she was of age? Cora may be nineteen and able to do what she liked, but Bethany was still a minor and Huck was legally responsible for her.
But Huck didn’t love Bethany. He rarely even talked to the poor child. As far as Huck was concerned, Bethany was the one responsible for killing their mother. Not that he’d seemed to care much about their mother until she was gone.
Cora suspected her father would continue to ignore Bethany until they tried to leave. The minute he saw her as a bargaining chip, he’d squeeze Cora for every penny. But she had no extra pennies to spare.
She supposed there was always the option of taking her without his permission, though the thought of what he might do if he caught them made her nervous. Huck was a lazy, good-for-nothing drunk, but he had a mean streak and a habit of rallying when he was angry. If they ran, they’d have to run far, and that took money too.
She added soap and filled the laundry tub with water while she considered the possibility. For many years, Cora had been earning extra money doing laundry for some of the ladies in town—those who were wealthy enough to pay her but not quite wealthy enough to hire a full-time maid. But recently many of those same women had been buying automatic washers and Cora’s services were in less demand than ever.
Which was another consideration in leaving town. The money seemed to be coming even slower these days. She’d only managed to save $88.67 so far, but would need at least $200 for bus tickets and renting a room, plus a little extra to see them through until she managed to find regular work. Maybe at a bakery, if she was lucky. Though she’d be willing to do just about anything as long as it meant she wouldn’t have to deal with Butch and her father ever again.