by Leisha Kelly
SIXTEEN
Samuel
Barrett Post brought me home that night promising he’d go into Mcleansboro after church the next day. He didn’t ask about the way I looked. He stared some. But he didn’t ask.
I walked up the front steps, feeling stiff. Edward had really walloped me, and I guessed I’d be feeling it for a few days. Maybe the whole thing was my fault somehow, though I wasn’t even sure why I was thinking that.
“It started with food,” Edward had said. “Your food.” I could see that now. The petty theft kept getting worse and worse until it was no longer petty, no longer child’s play. Certainly no longer just food. But he was putting the blame on me. And the community’s distrust of him. If I’d stolen my own food or didn’t need any, if somebody had hired him or at least hadn’t shooed him out of their stores, maybe his life would be different.
I’d wondered plenty of times what the world would have been like for us if Mom had always been sober and my father had been patient enough to hold a job and not be so hard on us. I’d been angry once. I’d thrown bottles like Edward. Busted a streetlight. Even tried the drink that plagued my parents so deeply. But I never went so far down that path. I was too afraid of what the drink was doing to my mother. And what the stealing was doing to Edward. So I quit drinking. I didn’t steal.
And I met Juli. And Jesus. The same year.
Anyone who knew how I felt about both of them would understand how I could never consort with Trudy Vale or anyone else. I hoped Juli knew. Obviously, Edward didn’t. I’d tried to tell him about the lightness I’d felt since I found God, but he would never listen. Called me crazy. Swore up and down that I’d better leave him alone. So I did.
And maybe that was wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have given up. Even though Edward had wearied me then the way he wearied me now. Always hard. Always bitter. Never wanting to listen. I was only the stupid little brother who ran off into the woods. Like that neighbor boy who’d called me “Worthless” instead of “Wortham,” Edward seemed to like knocking me down.
I stood for a moment on the porch, not really wanting to go in. I hadn’t explained much to Juli. I was sure to get more questions. And the questions would be hardest coming from the kids. I didn’t want to tell them anything. But I couldn’t just stay away.
They hadn’t heard me. Rorey and Sarah were singing in the house.
The singing stopped when I opened the door. Sarah spun around and squealed, “Daddy!”
Her hair was combed long and wet down her back, and she was already in her nightgown. Saturday was bath night. I could see Juli’s feet below the sheet draped in the corner. She peeked over its edge at me. “I’m glad you’re home. There’s noodles in the covered pan on the stove if you’re hungry. I’m rinsing Rorey’s hair, but we’ll be right out.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her right away. “I should’ve been here to help you lug the water.”
“Robert helped me. I’d rather you rest, anyway. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” I could hear the baby in the next room. With Robert, I assumed. Katie was sitting at the table, solemnly looking at me the way she had the first night. For a moment I wondered how everyone would react if I just declared myself her father. Katie would be delighted. Juli, I supposed, would find it in her heart to forgive me. And Edward would treat me like something more than a schlop. Maybe.
“Katie’s next,” Sarah told me. “’Less you want to.” She came close to my side, reaching her hand up to my face but not touching me. “Does that hurt?”
“Only when I laugh.”
“Then you must be okay,” she said with uncertainty in her voice. “’Cause you’re not laughing.”
I hugged her. “I’m fine, pumpkin.”
“I’m glad Mr. Eddie didn’t hit me that hard,” Katie suddenly said.
“I’m glad too.” She was so sad eyed; almost I wished I could hold her and Sarah at the same time. Maybe I could, but I didn’t try.
“Can I get you a wet cloth?” Juli asked. “You’ve got a bit of swelling.”
I knew that. I could feel the pressure, the soreness around my eye. It was probably purple too. Maybe a good reason to stay home from church. I could imagine all the attention I would get.
I guess I didn’t even answer Juli’s question, but she brought me a wet cloth anyway when she ushered Rorey out of her bath.
“Katie’s turn,” Rorey said, looking at me. “She didn’t wanna be first.”
Juli was touching the cloth to my eye so gently. Of course, any swelling it was going to do was already done by now. I hoped she didn’t know he’d busted me in the stomach too.
“Can I get you some noodles?” Juli asked. “Or did Louise feed you?”
“She offered. I turned her down.”
“Was Franky feeling all right, and George?”
I saw the worry in her eyes, and I knew she would fix everything for us if she could. I took her hand. “George hates being there. But he can stand it tonight. Franky was still hurting quite a bit, so they gave him some medicine and it pretty much put him to sleep. If you want to go, Barrett and Louise will be heading that way tomorrow.”
She looked around at the girls. “I don’t know, honey. We’ll see.” She swished the cloth across my forehead and then touched it to my eye again before leaning and kissing my cheek.
Robert came in from the sitting room, holding Emma Grace’s hand. He looked so tall suddenly. Somber. He didn’t say a word.
“Do we have to go to church tomorrow?” Rorey asked.
“No,” Julia answered quickly. “But we’re going anyway. It’s a privilege.”
“I never been to church,” Katie told us.
“Never?” Sarah asked, quite amazed.
“You’ll like it,” Julia assured her.
I hoped that was true. I remembered my first experience at Dearing’s little church. Everybody knew everybody, so there’d been gawking eyes at the newcomers, even a bit of hard feeling from those who thought, thanks to Hazel Sharpe, that we were trying to swindle Emma Graham. But Katie was just a child. She’d have none of that kind of problem. And besides, everybody knew us now. There’d be only my shiny black eye to create a stir.
“Is Kirk an’ Willy and them goin’ to church?” Rorey persisted.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “They may start out early in the wagon the way your father does when he goes. Charlie Hunter’ll be by for us.”
“I bet they don’t go,” she said with a pout. “’Cause Pa an’ Lizbeth ain’t there to make ’em.”
“Sam’ll get there,” Juli said. “If he can find a way.”
Her words made me remember Thelma Pratt catching young Sam Hammond off guard at the Fourth of July celebration, asking if she would see him at church. It seemed so long ago now.
“Well, we better get the baths done so we can get to bed at a decent hour,” Juli was saying. “Are you ready, Katie?”
“Do I have to?”
“I should think it would feel nice on a hot day like this,” Juli told her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be real gentle with your hair.”
“Can I do it myself?”
“Well.” Juli was surprised. “The other girls your age like help. But if you can do it, that’s just fine.”
Katie said she could do it. She went to her bag and got out her nightdress and ducked behind the sheet quick as a wink. She didn’t take very long at it, but she came out with her hair wet. Juli didn’t question her, didn’t even check behind her ears.
“Your turn, Robert.”
Sarah and Rorey ran in the sitting room with their dolls, and I held Emma Grace while Julia carefully combed the tangles out of Katie’s hair.
“You always take care of bathing by yourself?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Katie answered.
“Well, you’re very grown up. And very polite too. I appreciate that.”
“Thank you.”
Katie sat so quietly. And I began to wonder about Trudy Vale.
Why would she send her little girl to a man who had beaten her? Why not one of her own relatives instead, particularly her mother?
Maybe she knew. Maybe it was no misunderstanding at all, and she knew that Edward’s brother was not really the man she’d known. But that would be taking even more of a chance with her child. Wouldn’t it? And it seemed only God could arrange the kind of coincidences she’d been able to take advantage of. Same town. Same name.
Once again I entertained the notion that Trudy Vale could be lying. That maybe she had duped Edward and coached Katie with all the right words to say. Maybe there was no Wortham involved at all. But that didn’t explain the details they knew. Or Katie looking like me.
“Katie, was there anything else your mother said about your father?” I asked suddenly.
I could see Julia tense. “Samuel . . .”
“It doesn’t hurt to ask. She might remember something. Or about any relatives.”
“I don’t know,” Katie said with a sigh. “I wish we still had your picture. You look more tired-er in it.”
“It’s time for bed,” Juli said, laying down the brush with a suddenly shaking hand.
But Katie was thinking on something. “Mama was surprised,” she said abruptly. “When Edward said you was younger than him, she was surprised.”
“She thought I was older?” I thought that was good news. Finally, something that didn’t fit. Maybe the man, whoever he was, really was older than Edward. But Juli was looking at me as if it pained her. And then I realized why. I should have said Katie’s father was older. Not I. But correcting myself now might only make things worse.
“Edward’s immature,” Julia said quietly. “Robert acts older than he does.” She stood up. “Sarah! Rorey! Let’s go say your prayers.” She turned her eyes to me. “Do you mind keeping Emma Grace while I settle them down? She had a late nap and it’ll take me longer to get her to sleep.”
“Juli . . .” I wanted to find the right words to say, but Rorey and Sarah came bouncing back into the kitchen and I knew it would have to wait. “That’s fine,” I told her. “She’s no problem.”
Katie wanted to stay with me, but Juli called her in to bed with the other girls. I could hear her singing softly to them while Emma Grace pulled on my ear and giggled.
Robert emerged from behind the draped sheet and came up close, looking at my eye. “That’s pretty awful, Dad.”
“It’ll heal.”
“Why’d he bust you?”
“That’s a long story.”
“Did you bust him back?”
“No, Robert—”
“Why not? I would have.”
I didn’t doubt it to be true. Robert was more hotheaded than I was.
“You ought to tell the sheriff. About what he done to Franky too. He shouldn’t just get by—”
“It’s in God’s hands.”
Robert shook his head. “That’s kind of what Mom said. But what if God doesn’t do anything?”
“He will,” I answered, not sure why I could feel so confident about it.
Sarah and Rorey had been asleep a while, and Robert had gone upstairs when I started polishing shoes for Sunday morning. Juli was rocking Emma Grace in the sitting room, so I was surprised to hear little feet padding my way. I looked up to see Katie coming in the kitchen, her eyes round and sleepy, both hands holding tight to yarn dolls.
“Can I watch?” she asked.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping. Didn’t Julia see you?”
“She had her eyes closed. She’s singing to the baby.” I nodded. I hadn’t noticed singing. Lost in my thoughts, I guess.
She watched closely as I wiped some of Juli’s homemade walnut stain across the fronts of my church shoes. The stuff worked well enough in the stead of brown shoe polish.
“Why are you doing that?” she asked me.
“Because the shoes are old, and I want them to look their best. I buff them a little and they’ll be all right. You want me to do yours too?”
“Mama only fixed up shoes before a show. She said everything was supposed to look good for a show.”
“Well, this isn’t for a show. But God’s house is important. We want to look our best.”
“Your wife sings pretty.”
“I know.”
“Mama sings pretty too.”
“I figured she must. But don’t you think you ought to be sleeping? We’ve got to get up and around in the morning.”
She sat on the floor next to Sarah’s little shoes. “I know.” She rested her chin on her hands and looked up at me. “But I can’t sleep too good.”
“Why not?”
“I guess because I don’t know about church. An’ I’m kind of . . . kind of . . .”
“Scared?”
“Yeah.”
I set my cloth down. “I can understand that. The first time I ever went to this church, I was pretty nervous too. I didn’t know anybody except the people I was going there with. And it’s okay to be nervous. But there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“What do you do?”
“First you greet a few folks. Find a seat. Sing a hymn or two and go to Sunday school.”
“I’ve never been to any kind of school. Mama says I’ll have to go in the fall.”
“Yeah. I expect so. But Sunday school’s not the same. It’s all year and only on Sunday. You learn about Jesus and the things God wrote in the Bible.”
“Does Sarah like it?”
“Yes. And Sarah’s mommy is the teacher for your age, so you don’t even have to have somebody you don’t know.”
She smiled. “Is Sarah going to school in the fall?”
“She’s already been. For the first time last year. But she’ll go back. And she likes that too.”
“I hope I can go where she goes.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Katie would probably be going back East. To her grandmother, if we could find her. “Right now you need to go back to bed. Morning comes pretty early around here.”
She got up, and I thought she was going to do what I told her, but instead of going in the other room, she came right up and gave me a giant hug the way Sarah did sometimes.
I held her for a minute, praying for her and hoping she’d go on to bed without me prompting her again.
But she didn’t move. For a long time she clung to me, and I wasn’t sure what to do. She’d been this way the very first night, like I was a lifeline of some kind.
“Katie?” I finally said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I wish you’d rock me like the baby. Mama used to, but it’s been a long, long time.”
She wasn’t crying. But I knew she was close to it. “You’re a little nervous about more than church, aren’t you?”
She squeezed me tighter. One of the yarn dolls dropped to the floor. “I know you’re gonna send me away. An’ I don’t wanna go.”
“I have to be honest,” I told her. “If we find family, I’d have to send you away. I wouldn’t have much choice about it. And I know that’s scary, especially if you haven’t met them. But you’d get used to them, and it probably wouldn’t take long.”
“I thought I’d be scared of you. And I was, but only for a minute.”
“See?” I tried to look into her eyes. “It’ll likely be the same way with your family, wherever they are.”
“What if it’s not? Mama said her relatives don’t like us.”
“I’m sure God’s got someone willing to like you and take very good care of you.”
“Mama said you should.”
“But your mama never really met me. She only thought I was someone that . . . that she really did meet once.”
She looked at me with a little shake of her head. “I only think one thing about that.”
“What?”
She took a breath. “If she did meet you, then you both got kind of mixed up, ’cause you forgot, and she said I’d have to be really good ’cause you were kind of mean sometimes. But you’re not
.”
“Thank you. I appreciate hearing that.”
“But maybe the others is mean! Maybe you’re the one God got willing!”
“Katie—”
She wasn’t listening to me. She was crying now. “I like Sarah! I even like Rorey and the boys! I like Mrs. Wortham lots, even though I never did see anybody cook like her. She sings to me an’ tells me about stuff like beating up rugs and walking in a creek. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I never liked any other place this much! Even with Mr. Eddie bein’ so bad, because I think he’ll go away pretty soon and leave us alone.”
“He may. Eventually. But I can’t promise you can stay here. We just don’t know yet what we’re going to find out.”
She kept crying, and my heart went out to her, but I knew of nothing else I could say. Ben Law could show up tomorrow to tell us about that grandma or someone else willing to take her in. And she’d have to go. But she needed something, some kind of an assurance. My heart was heavy, thinking of the hurt of a child with no certain tomorrow. I had to tell her something.
“Katie . . .”
She shook a little, trying to push the tears away.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know if you’ll have to go, or when. But I’ll make you a promise. If Sheriff Law can’t find a place for you with a relative where you’ll be safe and happy, then I’ll keep you. You’ll be my little girl, just like Sarah is. Whether we’re blood or not.”
You’d think I’d promised her the world. She jumped at my neck so quick that it hurt. She was squeezing me and crying, and I was hoping I’d done the right thing. But then I saw a shape, and I looked up and saw Juli standing in the doorway. I wished I knew how much she’d heard. I hoped she wasn’t upset with me for making such a rash promise without even talking to her about it first.
“Time for bed, Katie,” I said.