They were all safe at the moment. That was what was important. Jack turned back to look at them and started motioning for them to go back, over to the left. Finally, all the men were doing the same, indicating Joe and Maddie should make a try for the house on the other side of the valley where they had lived when she was a little girl. She felt Joe’s hands tighten on her shoulders as he swore under his breath, then shoved her away from the bridge, pushing her again when his steps carried him to her, and once more when she stopped to look up at him.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Maddie yelled at him.
“GO!”
“WHERE?”
“BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE LIKE THEY TOLD US!”
She hurried to the end of the road, then turned onto the highway that would get them to their destination. They traveled about a mile farther until they came to a small concrete bridge that normally crossed a tiny creek about three feet wide and two inches deep during the summer months. Now it roared with water ten feet deep and spread out on the farmland like a lake. It was pushing up against the sides of the bridge, but hadn’t made it over onto the road, so Joe didn’t hesitate as he pushed her toward it. The extreme anxiety that had taken over her mind was now affecting her body. Looking at the small bridge, she moved quickly. It had the ability to kill just as easily as the steel monster back there. Her only thought was to get to the other side. But when she reached the center, the macadam gave way, sending Maddie’s leg through the bridge. The rush of water beneath, sucking her down and bending her leg until she was sure it would break.
“JOE!”
He had her in an instant, pulling her from the hole with all of his strength, but the water wasn’t giving up easily. Finally he had her free and was dragging her the remaining fifteen feet to solid ground. The pain in her leg was nothing compared to the fear tearing through her. She wanted to keep going. She wanted to find some path to take her back to her family, take her back to her son.
They started up the highway. It traveled uphill, but she knew that wouldn’t last. She knew this area well. She had spent the first eight years of her life there before her family had moved across the creek to be Joe’s neighbor. At the top of the hill, about a hundred yards away, it went immediately back down to meet another bridge like the small one they had just crossed. When they reached that bridge Joe pulled her back after looking at the road before them. Without warning he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder and ran to the other side. In her position she had an excellent view as the ground gave way following each of Joe’s leaping steps. Once on the other side he put her down again and pointed to the red house where she had lived. It was only a short distance now. She nodded as she started for the dryness it promised. They could use the telephone and let everyone know they were all right, and she could see how her family was. One bridge crossing Shamokin Creek might still be open at the other end of the road, nearly four miles away. They could go home.
CHAPTER XIV
Maddie stepped onto the porch, not hesitating to bang on the door, because her father’s nephew lived there. But after knocking for the third time she realized he wasn’t home. Joe moved in front of her, trying the knob, but it was locked. He moved across the lawn to the back door; again, it was locked. Next he went to the cellar window and kicked through it, then reached inside and unlocked it.
“Do you want to crawl down and open the door?” Joe called to her over the blast of rain.
“I don’t remember where the cellar door is,” she yelled back.
Joe stooped down, picked up a branch that had blown off a close tree and scraped the glass away from the sill. “Hold this open!”
He turned onto his stomach and went in feet-first, then stood on a pile of coal with unsteady feet and looked out at her.
“What’s wrong?” she called.
“Nothing! Go around to the kitchen. You do remember where that is, don’t you?”
She let go of the window frame and hoped it would hit him on the Goddamn head, but he ducked out of the way. She went back to the front door. It was partially covered by the porch roof, but the wind still drove the rain down upon her. After what seemed like an hour, but was only minutes, she saw him coming. She hurried inside, cold and wet, and needing to go to urinate.
“The bathroom—where is it?” Her voice trembled with cold as she hugged her arms to herself. In her state of mind she could only remember the kitchen and the living room.
He pointed to the other side of the kitchen, then took off his coat and draped it over a chair. She almost ran to the bathroom, trying to peel her pants down once she was behind the door. She was never so happy to see anything in her life as she was to see that toilet. But when she was about to pull up the pants, she saw the tear in the denim that ran along her thigh. Looking at her skin she saw that the bridge had left a red mark around her leg.
“I just tried to call Mom’s. It was busy.” Joe turned to look at her when she returned to the kitchen.
“Bob will be half out of his head by now,” she said to herself as she took off her raincoat and hung it over a chair.
“I’m sure he will be.” Maddie looked up into his angry eyes before he turned back toward the middle room and the telephone. “Hello, Beth? It’s Joe.”
That’s all he got out. Maddie took the telephone from him. “Give me that! Beth, how are Mom and Dad?”
“They’re all okay. Bruised and cut, but okay. Are you all right? Are you at your cousin’s house?”
“Yes, we’re fine and yes, we’re at the old house. Is Bob coming to get us?”
“Maddie, there’s no way to get to you. Bob and Tom said the bridge down at the other end of our road was already down by the time they got there.” At the sound of Maddie’s name she heard Jackie start whimpering. “Jack says it would be best for you to stay with your cousin until someone can get there. He said it should be safe there with him.”
“Mommy!” Jackie began crying in the background, calling for her again and again. “Mommy!”
Then the other end went dead.
“Beth? Beth?” Maddie’s voice started to tremble. Her son was crying for her, and there was nothing she could do for him.
Joe took the telephone from her and listened before putting it down. He moved to a window and looked out, then went to the kitchen and called her to him.
“It’s no use. That tree knocked over the pole. The phone’s useless.”
“No. It can’t be useless.” Her mind wasn’t thinking straight. All she could hear was her son crying for her. “Jackie’s crying for me—and, and, the other bridge is gone. I need to talk to Jackie, to let him know he’ll be okay. I’ve got to let him know he’s going to be okay.”
She ran back to the telephone and dialed her mother’s number again and again. When Joe tried to take the receiver from her, his attempt brought her hand up to meet his face with a resounding crack. This time he ripped the cord from the wall and threw the telephone across the room.
“Goddamn you, girl! You got us into this mess! Now take it! Don’t go turning to hysterics on me!!”
“Oh that was great—real Goddamn great! Now what if they try to call us!”
“IT WAS DEAD! There’s no way they can get through until the phone company comes to fix the lines! And if you think that’s going to happen real soon, maybe you can go out and build us a canoe out of the tree that knocked down the lines in the first place! Do you understand that?!”
“Then we have to go to another neighbor’s down the road. We have to call back.” She started for the door but he caught up with her and pushed her back toward the stairs.
“Too late. That bridge went down while you were in the bathroom. We’re stuck here.”
He moved to the middle room again to start a fire in a kerosene heater while she sat on the steps leading to her old bedroom upstairs. She leaned her head in her hands. She wouldn’t cry in front of that bastard and have him put up with her hysterics. And what did he mean she got them into that mess? She
was only helping. If she hadn’t been there her father would have gone over the side of the bridge. She was shivering fiercely when Joe returned to the kitchen, but she remained seated, her head resting across her arms as they leaned on her knees. The only thought going through her mind was the sound of her son calling for her.
“Go upstairs and take off your clothes. They can dry by the heater. See if you can find something big enough for me to wear while you’re up there,” Joe instructed.
“Go to hell,” she said in an emotionless voice as she sat still, staring out the window where she once peered out to watch her older brothers playing football with the two neighbor boys.
“Maddie, I know you’re upset about your son, but . . . .”
“And I said go to hell!” She sat up and turned her anger and frustration on him.
“Fine. Have it your way. I’ll do it myself.” He glared at her with a strength that made her feel weak, then started for the stairs.
“I’ll do it,” she mumbled.
She didn’t like the idea of going through her cousin’s belongings, but they needed dry clothing. After stripping all her clothes off, she took a terry robe from a bureau and wrapped it around herself, taking immense pleasure in its warm dryness. She could have stayed like that for hours, but she remembered Joe was downstairs with his clothes still wet, so, taking off the robe, she put on one of her cousin’s shirts and a pair of his boxer shorts. She put the robe back on and grabbed a warm pair of socks that she slid on her cold feet, then picked up another shirt, jeans, underwear and socks and went back downstairs. She looked around the kitchen, but didn’t see Joe. As she took a step toward the middle room he called from the bathroom.
“I’m in here. Bring in the clothes.”
“Is something wrong with the plumbing?” She pushed open the door, positive that since there was no gas, electricity or telephone, the plumbing would be out also.
“No water. Not much anyway. Since the pump runs on electricity it won’t be drawing up from the well for us.”
Joe was tossing his wet pants into the tub as he stood in the middle of the room totally naked. She swung around, her back to him as she dropped the clothes on the floor.
“Don’t worry, kid. I don’t have the energy.” He stepped next to her and picked up the clothes. “Where are you going?”
“Where do you think? I can’t stay in here!”
“You can if ya like. You did before—or would you rather forget all about that?”
“Go to hell, McNier.” She left the room, hearing his chuckle follow her as she leaned against the kitchen sink on the other side of the door. Why had this happened to her? She would go crazy not being in touch with her son for one thing; she had never spent a single night away from him. And for another, she couldn’t risk staying in this house with Joe. He held a power over her that made her breathless at the sight of him; his nearness made her tingle and his touch—God, his touch.
“And just what would you do, little girl, if I decided to follow you around this way until we get out of here?”
“You wouldn’t,” she sighed matter-of-factly as she turned to look out the window at the creek rushing by only fifteen yards from the house.
“And why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re cold and you need the warmth.”
“Don’t be too sure.” He swung the door open, making Maddie’s head turn away with a jerk. “It’s okay, Mrs. Green. I was only kidding. You’re right. I’m cold and I don’t have the energy to produce the kind of heat you’re afraid of.” He handed her his wet cloths and she took them to the middle room where she spread them on chairs near the heater. “I see you’ve changed your taste in underwear,” he said from where he leaned against a wall near her.
Maddie looked over at the T-shirt and panties on a chair that were out for all to see. They were of cotton, colored deep blue in a style only recently available for women. They resembled men’s underclothing, providing a comfort she liked.
She looked at him a moment before changing the subject. “How are your kids, Joe?”
He shifted, then moved to the couch where he lit a Camel. “Okay I guess. They’re with Lena right now.”
“Where is Lena? She’s not up at your place with your children is she? I hear it’s getting pretty bad up-river, especially there.”
“Lena and I have been divorced for over three years.”
“Divorced?” She sat on the floor close to the kerosene heater, feeling the need to get as close to the warmth as she could. So, that glorious marriage of his hadn’t lasted. The combined anger and pain slashed at her, but she’d never let him see it. “I didn’t know that.”
“No. I don’t suppose Lover-Boy ever told you,” he said, but, at her confusion he elaborated. “Bob knew.”
“He knew? How do you know that?”
“I saw him in town about two years ago. Believe it or not, we’re capable of a civil conversation if we try hard enough.”
“Right,” she sighed. “Does Lena have the children all the time?”
The suggestion made him laugh. “Not likely. No, they live with their grandparents, but I get them often. Lena takes them when it’s profitable. She’s got them with her in upstate New York now for two weeks; then she’ll send them back for the rest of the year.”
“I couldn’t even think of doing that. Did you agree with that condition?”
“Agree with it? They’re my kids. I’d rather see them raised down here than let her take them full-time. She’s never going to take my kids from me—and she knows it.”
“You’re that sure they wouldn’t be better off with their mother.”
“Positive.” He got up and moved to a lantern, stopping along the way to pull a blanket off of the couch and toss it to her. She wrapped it around herself, staring at the red glare of the heater in front of her. She saw the yellow glow come from behind her as he lit a lantern, then took the other lantern to the kitchen, where he lit it as well. He paused in the doorway, then came back and pulled a chair closer to the heater and sat in it. “You ever spend a night away from Bob?”
“When I was in the hospital with Jackie—and he works at night sometimes.”
“How about him? You ever separated from him?” He referred to her son.
“No.” She hadn’t meant her answer to come out in a sob, but, when it did, she turned her face toward the heater again.
Joe sighed as he moved back to the kitchen. When he returned he was carrying a radio and opening a pack of Lucky Strikes.
“Where’d you get the cigarettes and matches?” Maddie asked.
“In his cupboard. Thank God he had some stashed there. Mine were soaked from the creek.”
“May I have one?” She held her hand out for a cigarette.
“I thought you said you quit.”
“I did. Almost four years ago.”
“Then no, you can’t have one.” He sat down and inhaled deeply on the one he had lit.
“Then don’t give me one—I don’t care!” Dammit! Couldn’t he see she needed something to calm her nerves?
“I won’t,” he said calmly, stretching his legs toward the heater, where he had crossed his ankles. “How many beds are upstairs?”
“Go find out,” she grumbled.
“You still pout—how sweet,” he said snidely. “You were up there. Didn’t you look?”
“There was a bed in Mom and Dad’s old room. I didn’t go any farther.”
“How big?”
“It doesn’t matter, because I’m sleeping upstairs and you’re sleeping down here on the couch,” she said angrily.
“Well I hope you have lots of blankets up there, because I’m keeping the heater with me.”
“How gentlemanly of you.”
“I never said I was a gentleman. You want a heater, you go down in the cellar and look for one.”
“All right. I will!”
“I doubt it. The water’s probably up to your nose.”
“What
do you mean?” she asked slowly as she eyed him.
“Go take a look,” he said simply.
She moved to the cellar door. When she opened it she couldn’t see anything, but, as she moved out of the light from the lantern, she jumped back in frightened surprise. There were only four steps showing; water covered everything below that. She couldn’t remember how many steps there were, but most cellars had about eleven of that size. She slammed the door and turned back to him.
“Where’s it coming from?!”
“The ground—where else?”
“Is it—is it—going to come up to this floor?”
“I doubt it. It’ll go out the cellar windows and into the yard before it comes up here.” He inhaled on his cigarette again. “You see Lew lately?”
“No,” she grumbled as she took a cushion from the couch and put it on the floor where she had been sitting. “I mean, yes. Sort of. Last month, and I called over today to be sure everything was okay.”
“And was it?”
“Do you really care? You didn’t come to see him once when he was in the hospital.”
“Probably because I didn’t know he was in.”
“He’s been in twice in the past two years,” she told him smartly.
“What for?”
“Heart attacks. Mild ones.”
“Lew? He’s only forty-four isn’t he?” His shock changed to an expression of thought. “Yeah, I guess if anyone could be in line for one, it’d be someone built like him.”
“And what’s wrong with his build? He may not stand six foot and weigh only one-eighty but he’s a better man than you’ll ever be!” She stared at him. She had thought he liked Lew.
“You’re right, he is a better man than I’ll ever be. There isn’t a man alive who can compare to Lew Cressinger. I know that. I never meant otherwise. I was just saying his weight would invite heart trouble. If heart disease came from a bad attitude Lew would be the healthiest man alive. I guess that’s what took me by surprise. You said they were mild attacks though?”
“Yes. He’s taking shots of insulin too. But he’s getting out and about. He just grabs his father’s old wooden cane and tromps over the dike like there’s nothing wrong at all. I guess he’ll be all right if he doesn’t overdo it. We still go to football games together. I think he only lets me go along so he can have a visit with Jackie.” She smiled softly as her eyes held the memory of Lew holding her son on the dike or on the bleachers, often putting his cap on the youngster’s head. It was something special; Lew didn’t let just anyone touch his cap!
My Heart Can't Tell You No Page 22