by Asotir
‘Just now?’
‘Um-huh.’
Rayn slid down in his arms.
‘And did Mr Money Bags make lots and lots of money for me today?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Good, I bought three bras today. And a thong teddy. Very bad. Very expensive.’
‘Maybe we should have a sort of budget now. You know, just in case the economy gets worse.’
‘Well now, I’m sure Mr Money Bags needn’t worry over that.’
‘We should start budgeting household expenses – groceries, that sort of thing. You know, Rayn, I have to talk to you about something. It’s about—’
‘What?’
He didn’t answer right away. When he did his voice was changed. ‘Would you like your present now?’
She nodded like a little girl. He led her to the closet. He opened the safe and took out a small wrapped box. Rayn opened it.
‘Bjorn – no! It’s too much.’
She took out of the box a necklace of diamonds strung on a web. He clasped the necklace behind her neck and guided her to the mirror and she let the raincoat hang open and looked at her reflection.
‘Bjorn, now I have everything I ever wanted. If only my Mommie were alive.’
* * *
OUT IN THE YARD Falco turned away from the window and went back under the Juniper Tree. The rain started again. He looked down over the cliff.
Far below the waves smashed the rocks.
He blinked against the rain. He wasn’t crying. Not really.
That night was a strange one. It was in the wind and the rain. Most of all it was in the boughs of the Juniper Tree. Falco felt it. He walked around the house in the rain all night long. He felt like he was locked out and he’d never get back in. The thought excited him but it frightened him too. The strange rain fell like little tears changing everything it touched. Even the white dog looked like he felt it.
* * *
INSIDE THE HOUSE Tang-Tang lumbered down to the closet door.
Rayn wrapped herself in the man’s raincoat. He was asleep on the floor. She saw Tang-Tang at the half-open safe.
She went to the safe and started closing it when something caught her eye.
She took out the red binder with the papers assigning Tall Pines to the ugly little boy Falco.
Rayn replaced the binder and closed the safe, softly.
She looked down on her husband asleep on the floor.
Her face was cold and wet.
Upstairs in her crib Greta woke up crying. She must have felt it too.
Rayn took the lamp upstairs with her. She left Bjorn lying on the floor in the dark.
She put the lamp down and held Greta.
‘Mama, Mama!’
‘I’m here, little goose, tell Mama all about it. Was it a belly-ache? Was it a dinosaur?’
‘It was a bird in the Juniper Tree.’
‘Hush now, there’s no cause to fear, the bird wasn’t real.’
She stroked Greta’s hair and kissed her. She rocked her in her arms.
‘I’ll look after you, Greta. I’ll take care of my little goose. Does he think he can rob you, and give everything to that freak because he’s a boy and you’re a girl?’
She began to sing a little lullaby, making up the words as she went along.
‘Mr Money Bags sat on a wall,
Mr Money Bags had a great fall,
and all the King’s horses,
and all the King’s men,
couldn’t put Money Bags together again.’
7
It only got worse after that. Whenever you try to fix things they get worse. But nothing ever gets better by itself.
FALCO DIDN’T go back inside the house that night. He slept on the sand beneath the Juniper Tree. When morning came Rayn came unlocked the door and let him in without a word. Falco made his way upstairs to his room.
That Monday Dad went to work and Rayn fed Falco and Greta breakfast. Falco’s oatmeal didn’t taste right, though. He didn’t want to eat it, but Rayn pinched the back of his neck with one hand and with the other she took her big wooden spoon and scooped up a glop of oatmeal and shoved it into his mouth. Half of it went onto his face. He barely had a chance to gulp before she smushed another big glop in between his teeth. After that he was ready to eat it and he tried telling her, but she just went on shoving it in until he was almost choking and he fell out of the chair.
She laughed. ‘Well now little sir, how clumsy! And what a dirty smelly thing you are! Go outside now until the bus comes to take you to school.’
It was a cold morning. More storms were coming, blowing down off the water from far away where Rayn came from. Falco wished she’d go back there. But he didn’t really want her to go. He just wanted her to be nice to him.
A wind tossed the branches of the Juniper Tree. Greta was playing with Giorgio. She was putting dandelions in the curls behind his ears.
Falco don’t know why but that made him mad. He grabbed Giorgio away from Greta.
‘Don’t you play with him! He’s mine! Mine!’
‘Falco, don’t!’
He pushed her to the ground and dragged Giorgio away under the Juniper Tree.
Greta got up and brushed off her skirt. She started to cry. She ran back to the house.
He watched her go out of the corner of his eye. He pulled hard on Giorgio’s neck.
‘Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I? So don’t start crying now!’
Rayn was watching through the window. At first Falco was scared she was going to come out and have to slap him. But she just went on watching him bending over Giorgio’s neck and hugging him.
He went to school. In the afternoon he came back. He stayed outside as long as he could but it started raining real hard so even under the Juniper Tree got wet. Dad came home and hollered for him, and he had to go back inside.
Inside there were decorations everywhere. Over the hall was a string of paper cut into a sign:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAYN!
Falco made it. He cut the pages out of magazines to make the letters. He did it at school so it’d be a surprise. She took it from him and said, in a cold damp little voice,
‘Thank you little sir.’
But it was like murder in her eyes. She was changed into her prettiest dress after cooking all day. The front of the dress was low and showed off her breasts underneath the web of diamonds. She smelled prettier than anything and her face and her lips were made up like a beautiful mask. But it was murder in her eyes and Falco knew it was all over now. She would hate him forever now. It was like war now and he didn’t even know why.
He excused himself and went upstairs. He hung over the rail and looked back down.
Dad sat her down in the Morris chair and carried in a big birthday cake, candles burning, and he and Greta sang Happy Birthday to Rayn.
Greta wore a party hat and laughed and clapped, but Rayn covered with presents in her throne only smiled a cold smile.
‘Now blow and make a wish.’
Falco wanted to go hide in his Mother’s room. He tried the door but it was still locked. He stared at it.
He looked downstairs. He heard the echoes of the party from below. Even from upstairs he could smell the cake and ice cream.
Rayn blew hard into the fire and all the candles died. Greta and Bjorn cheered and clapped.
‘And what did you wish for?’
‘You’ll learn later, little boy. If it comes true.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
He downed his drink and went to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Where is the boy? Falco! Come down if you want cake!’
‘Oh, let him be, Bjorn. The boy simply has to learn that not everything will go his way. That is a lesson we all must learn.’
‘Falco! Falco!’
Falco trudged down the stairs.
‘At last! What’s the matter with you? You’d think you didn’t want cake at all.’
Rayn got up. ‘Well now I know it’s not
proper to have the meal after the dessert, but now that our precious little sir has arrived, I’ll bring out your special treat for you, and I made it even though my grocery allowance has been cut.’
Rayn went into the kitchen and brought back out a fresh roasted lamb.
The head of the lamb lay on the server alongside the meat, and it had two dandelions tucked behind its ears. It was Giorgio, slaughtered and roasted for Rayn’s birthday feast.
* * *
GRETA’S EYES popped out.
‘There now, what do you say to that, are you all hungry? Who’s first to taste the meat?’
Falco tried to say something, but he couldn’t.
Rayn looked on him with her sweetest smile.
‘And what part of the carcass would the little sir like?’
He felt sick to his stomach. He ran out the terrace doors. Greta went after him.
‘Falco! Come back! Rayn, that was a nasty trick!’
‘Oh, Bjorn, don’t bother, the child will get over it. We all have to make sacrifices, Bjorn, you told me so yourself. Didn’t you?’
* * *
GRETA FOUND FALCO on the edge of the cliff. He was throwing stones into the sea.
‘Falco! Falco, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t cry one tear. It was war now. The murder-eyes told him so. He threw another rock.
‘That was a horrid thing to do to Giorgio, he was such a good lamb, I know you loved him very much.’
He turned to her ready to punch her, but Greta hugged him before he could do anything, squeezing as hard as her chubby little arms could hold. After that he couldn’t stand it any more and he sobbed and bawled.
‘It’s all right, Falco, It’s all right.’
‘Greta, I’m sorry I was mean to you.’
He took Greta to the Juniper Tree and sat her down on the roots. She shook her head.
‘No, I’m not allowed here, this is your place.’
‘From now on you’re allowed.’
They sat together on the Beak.
The sea birds soared and gathered on the Juniper Tree. Greta sniffled and sobbed and lay still. Falco smoothed her hair and petted her the way he petted Giorgio. His tears had stopped a long time since. He just sat quiet and looked out to sea.
But in his heart he was thinking, That’s Rayn’s birthday and mine comes next. It will happen before then.
What would happen?
8
The part about Rayn and what went on in her head, the Juniper Tree told me later on. I didn’t make it up.
FALCO’S DREAD was well founded. Something in Rayn had indeed changed. She didn’t turn into something else. She turned more into herself, and that was the worst thing that could have happened for Falco’s sake.
Rayn lived on the brink of an abyss. All her life it seemed she walked there. On one side was the kind of life most people have, the kind they call ‘good’ or ‘safe.’ On the other side was the abyss like a drop into something deep and dark and awful. So why didn’t she just turn toward the safe side and get back from the brink? Maybe because over the brink, down in the dark, she could hear voices. The voices were always whispering to her and telling her to do stuff. Mostly they told her, ‘Come down here! This is what you want!’ That sort of thing.
A long time ago something happened to her. She never thought about it now but it was always there. The voices that whispered to her out of the deep knew all about what happened but Rayn didn’t know it at all, at least not if you talked to her about it or something. If you asked her she would only tell you that her father was a bad man and her Mommie was a saint, and that she always loved her Mommie and hated her father. She was always saying stuff like that to Bjorn. Hardly a day went by, she didn’t let something drop about how mean her father was, how much she loved her Mommie.
But that wasn’t what the voices knew. Something happened between Rayn and her father, and on account of that her mother died. That’s what the voices told. Rayn’s Mommie got sick and she died, and Rayn’s father was mean, and something was going on between Rayn and her father. But the rest of it, the how and why, depended on the way you wanted to look at it. Rayn had her way and the voices had theirs, and they were always trying to twist her into believing them.
And what came out of it was that Rayn had to make herself pretty so that men who were older got to liking her, so they couldn’t help themselves. She did a good job of it too. But then as soon as they did start to like her, and want her, and need her real bad, she started to not like them any more, if she ever really did like them, but probably it was all an act anyway. She listened to the voices coming from over the edge and if one of the old men had money she went for him more, and she hated him more than ever and did mean things to him and laughed when his heart broke and he started acting crazy. That was what really got her excited, when the men’s hearts broke and they started bawling and begging, and some even threatened her, and they were big men but they never got to go through with any of their big words. That’s what Tang-Tang was for.
Falco used to think it was just him. But Bjorn wasn’t the first one Rayn smiled and winked and wiggled at. Falco couldn’t even guess how many others there were. Hundreds maybe, who knows? But as soon as the mess was about to burst, Rayn got away quick. She had traveled half way around the world and had moved from city to city and from man to man.
And then she sat on a stone over the waves and combed her hair and played with Tang-Tang until Bjorn Hansen laid eyes on her. Right off she had her way with him. She moved into the house and even got him to marry her, and before the voices could drive her on to worse things, she had Greta.
Having Greta made the voices go away. They got quiet and sank down into the darkness like a fire burning low down to the last embers. But a fire lasts longer than the flames. Deep under the ashes the coals stay hot a long time, and if fresh wood comes, the fire will break out all over again.
Having Greta made Rayn think of her Mommie, and she began to act like she was her Mommie all over again, and a good woman, a pure woman, and a saint. But all the same she went on playing her games. She couldn’t help it. It was the only way she knew.
She played Mommie and wifey and went shopping. She walked around the house and the woods, counting the acres, all hers, all hers.
But something else was in her way. There was the dead wife’s child.
In the beginning Rayn didn’t think too much about him, but as time went on she thought about the future, in case something happened to Money Bags. It was a little thought way in the back of her head. The voices whispered really soft and quiet. After all it looked like there was plenty to go around, and plenty of time to get it.
And then she saw the document in the safe. She found the other papers too, about Hodgekiss and the money Hansen owed and the mortgage on the house.
Mr Moneybags, he didn’t have so much to fill his bags anymore.
That was the fresh wood that came piling up on top of the ashes where the hot old coals were waiting.
All that night after she found out, Rayn didn’t sleep a wink. She walked around the house like a ghost. She took off her clothes and went out into the woods naked. It didn’t seem cold to her at all because on the inside she was burning, burning, burning.
She went down the long way at the wood’s end to the shore and swam in the ice cold water, and the waves hissed and sizzled into steam around her where she swam, and the birds flew away, and even the seals and the fish kept away from her.
She left the rocks and climbed back up the path. Steam like fog drifted behind her in the starlight. She must have smelled like incense, all smoky and wild even in the woods.
She slipped back inside the house and went up to her room. She closed the door behind her and locked it. She went into her closet full of all her pretty dresses. She pulled one down and put it on. She tore it off and tried another. She tore that one off too. Nothing could please her. Nothing could make her happy.
M
r Moneybags, he didn’t have so much to fill his bags anymore.
The voices were louder now. She couldn’t hear anything else. Only the voices telling her things. Bad things, terrible things, things nobody should have to hear.
She took a bath in fire-hot water. Not even that could scald her now, not the way she was. She got out after a couple hours and dried herself and oiled herself up with perfume and lotions, all her stuff.
It was like she was trying to keep busy, to keep from hearing what the voices said. But all the while they went on talking. They said things over and over again and they wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t block them out forever. Nobody could.
She combed and brushed her hair. She put on makeup. She made herself beautiful for her birthday. But there was nothing she could do about her eyes. Deep in her eyes there was only murder.
Then dawn came and she went about her day.
* * *
IT WAS TUESDAY before Thanksgiving. That was the date of that terrible day. The weather made it worse. The weather was clear and dry and uncommonly warm. At the mill, Mary-Louise was stuffing papers into a cardboard box on her desk. Anders appeared at the door.
‘Hello, Arne. Bjorn’s out.’
‘Leaving, Mary-Louise?’
‘I have a sister in South Bend. I think I’ll get away from this part of the country for a few lifetimes.’
‘When Bjorn comes in, would you—’
‘—No. He only left half an hour ago, and I don’t think he’ll be back today. You better tell him yourself, Arne.’
‘All right. I know it’s been hard on you.’
‘Arne – you’ll probably find him at home, if it’s that important. I can’t imagine where else he’d go. What have you got, anyway?’
‘The bankruptcy papers.’
‘Go to his home.’
* * *
IN WHITE QUILL Rayn was opening her Trunk. It was early afternoon and the children had come home from school early for the holiday. Rayn had settled down a bit but the fury and fire that had blazed through her hadn’t wholly gone. Her face was still pinched and mad and ugly. She pulled out old photographs of her father and mother, bundles of letters, and spiced cured apples. She scattered them across the floor. She paced about the room. She heard the voices everywhere. She heard them in the floor boards and the lamp and the bedclothes and the closet. She heard them through the window. She stood before the window and pressed her hands against the glass.
Through the glass far below she watched the little boy playing on the lawn.
‘Mama, can I have a goodie?’