The Weeping Books of Blinney Lane

by Drea Damara

  “Will not your nephew inherit your house? Can he not stand up to take your place when he comes of age?”

  “No. Since his father left he must—rule Richard’s new house when the time comes.” Her anger diminished as she tried to concentrate on translating Blinney Lane life into terms someone from Farwin Wood could understand. He didn’t need to know that she could never ask Ricky to run her bookstore.

  “I see your brother has fared well in other ways,” he said with a sarcastic tone of praise. “My congratulations to his success.”

  “Vasimus, would you be happy if he were a starving beggar?”

  “Like my people? Is that what you mean? I suppose there is nothing here to tempt you anymore. I am sorry that Farwin Wood is not the idyllic place you remember it to be,” Vasimus said, his arms rising as he gesticulated.

  “I never said that. And I sent a message for you. Did not your guard tell you?”

  “Ah, yes—to bid me goodbye. One jaunt through Farwin Wood was enough to make that an easier decision for you,” Vasimus said, grumbling in his self-pity. He paced in agitation at the base of the stairs.

  “If you are not happy with the state of Farwin Wood, then why not end this war?”

  “End it? Just like that? And what’s to stop Ranthrop’s people from burning cottages and timber or from stealing roomples and muckas from the villages? Who will protect my people when his men hide along the roads to rob them of what little they already have?”

  “I have seen Ranthrop.” She paused until he looked up at her, his eyes widened. “Vasimus, he will gladly end this war if you would do the same. His people suffer the same atrocities,” she said sympathetically but braced herself for what was to come.

  “Ranthrop? Ranthrop?” He took a swift step and stopped just in front of her. “Is that where you were yesterday? I am given twenty minutes of your time in twenty years, but Ranthrop—the man who would have killed you—is given your audience the whole of yesterday?”

  “I went to look for the mistress from my court in the swamplands, and I inquired of her from Ranthrop, who obliged me. He was civil, Vasimus.” She'd fudged that statement just a little, she knew, but any alternative wouldn’t help the case of peace.

  “Ha! Likely afraid of what would happen were he not! And why did you not come to me? Do you not know how dangerous it is for you to go to the Southlands now?”

  He looked down at her as he spoke. Despite his rage, she could see concern in his eyes.

  “Yes, I do, which is why you were the last person I would ask for help. I would not let you go there to ride to your death.” She reached for the front of his shirt, but he pulled away.

  “Both Ranthrop and I will die one day, but you can be assured he will be first.”

  Vasimus found himself glaring at her for her display of concern for him. She had put herself in harm’s way to keep him free of it. He didn’t want to be reminded of her good nature. Sarah had always been kindhearted and caring. He wanted to forget that now that she would leave him again, but no matter what fault he tried to find in each phrase she spoke, he could not. He was suddenly exhausted from his storm of emotions and the angry banter between them. This was not how he’d imagined their reunion. Why was she not in his arms, smiling and kissing him?

  Her eyes were stormy as she spoke. “How do you know that? When you go on so obsessed with this—this wasted vengeance? Do you think Deronda would rejoice in what the two of you have done? Was it worth it? To you? To your people? What has it brought you? All that it will bring you is your death, and I cannot bear to leave you knowing that you go to it willingly!”

  Vasimus turned away from her and pinched his eyes shut. He heard her dress rustle as she came up behind him, but he stretched an arm back for her to come no farther.

  “Do not tell me how I should run my affairs, Sarah, when you give me no say in how to run yours.” He let his arm drop and took in a long breath as he straightened from his defeated posture. “You must go. I accept this as I once told you I would. But in going, know that if you love me, if you ever loved me, you will return. Don’t wait another twenty years, Sarah.”

  Sarah watched as he strode to the door. It seemed he could not leave quickly enough. She felt she could almost taste the bitterness of his words; they were so palatable. The slamming of the door sent a shudder down her spine, and she felt fresh tears begin to form.

  Why couldn’t he have just said goodbye to her? What a stubborn fool he’d become. This wasn’t how she wanted the last time she saw him to be. How long would it take her to regain the sense of contentment she had acquired since the last time she’d seen him? Would she grow mad in her bookshop as the years slowly passed by, wondering if he’d ceased his destruction? She didn’t want to think of the things that would torment her over the next twenty years. She buried her face in her hands and tried to keep from sobbing.

  The sound of soft footsteps grew at her side, and she looked up to find Netta hobbling over to her in haste. The sight of compassion on the woman’s face filled her heart. “Oh, Netta,” she cried and threw her arms around the little woman’s shoulders.

  “There, there.” Netta patted her back. “It’s done now. He’s gone.”

  That was just it. Sarah choked back another sob. Whomever she’d just argued with was not the Vasimus she remembered. The Vasimus she knew was gone.

  BLINNEY LANE

  RICKY SAT groggy eyed on the couch in his aunt’s living room. Reggie Nurscher changed the channel with the TV remote once again. It was too early for Ricky to adjust his eyes to the flashing colors at the speed Reggie clicked the control. Either that or he hadn’t slept well. He had done impatient laps the night before around the kitchen table where his aunt’s body lay face down in front of the infamous open book. When he’d given up on her waking up early, he’d finally walked over to Mary’s where he was told he had to sleep for the evening.

  The image of a tanned blonde in a French-cut leotard zoomed in on the screen, and Ricky rubbed his eyes when he realized what he was staring at. The woman smiled and shifted from one long drawn-out stretch to the other. He turned his head and squinted. Reggie chewed on a biscuit and stared, entranced by the woman on the screen. Ricky watched as crumbs fell from Reggie’s mouth and onto his polyester shirt. Gross. He tightened his grasp around the bulky pillow he hugged to his chest with his pajama-clad legs pushed up on the other side of it.

  “You know, Reggie, you can go man.”

  “No, it’s my turn to babysit, remember?” Reggie took another bite, which caused a large biscuit chunk to fall and land on his crotch.

  “I’m not a baby,” Ricky said, dismayed that his suggestion had fallen on deaf ears.

  “I know that. You think I wanna be here?” Reggie’s eyes never left the screen. “I ain’t listening to them old goats blab at me if they find out I left you and you got into some kind of trouble,” he said, dusting crumbs off his shirt and onto the floor.

  Ricky sighed in disgust and looked back at the TV. The woman’s pelvis now undulated up and down as she lay on the floor on her back, leading an exercise workout. “Really?” Ricky guffawed. “Can’t you put something else on?”

  “It’s Sunday morning! There’s nothing on!” Reggie shifted on his seat cushion and leaned against the arm of the couch to reach his cigarettes on the table. He tucked one into his lips.

  Ricky buried his face into his pillow. It blocked his view of Reggie’s fixation and some of the smell of his putrid cigarette smoke. Come on, Aunt Sarah. Any minute now, he wanted to scream. He hated the waiting. He’d sat for hours next to Shelby’s hospital bed yesterday with that heavy book in his lap, waiting for her to wake up. Luckily, her parents had thought it was cute that he’d come to “read” to her and let him be. They had looked exhausted, probably not having slept since finding Shelby unresponsive and said they would go home to get some sleep if he would stay with her.

  The memory of seeing her eyes open again made him smile. He wondered if that’
s how parents felt when they first saw their newborn babies. At first he thought he’d imagined it, having stared at her for so long, but finally she blinked and then again. He had rushed to her side and squeezed her hand until he felt hers wriggle under the tension.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” Shelby looked around, realizing she was actually in a hospital bed as he and his aunt had told her she would be when she awoke. Ricky thought for a moment of returning the kiss she’d planted on him in the water barrel, but as he leaned in, she yelled, “Sarah! Get the book to Sarah!” The brief moment of consolation had been abruptly devastated.

  Now here he sat again, still waiting. No wonder his aunt had been so testy about her rules. He felt awful for all the grief he’d given her, when she’d only been trying to help him, trying to keep him safe. He arched himself up off the couch enough to crane his head over the back and look into the kitchen. The book still sat open on the table, and he could see Sarah’s lifeless hand lay stretched out before it on the table. He sighed and settled back, but he caught Reggie looking over at him.

  “She’ll be all right, kid,” Reggie muttered and clicked the remote again.

  Ricky didn’t know if Reggie was trying to be comforting or if it was just more of his selfish lack of concern for anything that didn’t involve him. Ricky leaned into the arm of the couch and stared at the floor. He was tired but didn’t want to shut his eyes for fear that he’d end up right back inside the book just as Sarah was leaving.

  Reggie barked out a ragged cough as a smoke plume formed in front of him. Ricky looked over to see the wiry man pound once on his chest and rasp again, his face gone flush under the congestion of phlegm and choking fumes.

  “Huuhhn!” Reggie said, croaking. His coughing stifled to throat clearing. Ricky heard another cough, but Reggie’s mouth didn’t open, nor did his chest heave again like it had the first time.

  Whipping his legs around under him on the couch, Ricky pushed himself up onto his knees and looked into the kitchen. The hand that he had spied earlier from his vantage point was now gone from his view. He jumped over the back of the couch, landing on the living room floor. He raced into the kitchen and found his aunt, sitting up in her chair, rubbing her face.

  “Aunt Sarah?”

  Sarah turned to focus on him with a sleepy look in her eyes. She let out a yawn and muttered tiredly, “Ricky, you made it. Thank goodness.”

  He laughed and threw his arms around her, squeezing her tight. He didn’t want to let go. “I was worried. Are you all right?”

  Sarah feebly brought a hand up and patted his arm. She leaned her head against his shoulder like she was exhausted. “I’m fine. What about Shelby?”

  “She’s fine. She woke up just like you said.”

  Sarah seemed to relax then and gave a weak smile. “Good.”

  “Morning, sunshine!” Reggie called, leaning against the doorway. He smirked at Sarah behind the vapors that wafted up from his cigarette.

  “Reggie. What are you doing here?”

  “Babysittin’,” Reggie said and nodded toward him.

  Ricky shot his aunt a look that he hoped would express how he felt about his time spent with the intolerable man. He saw the corner of her mouth turn up and knew she understood because she said, “Well, thank you, Reggie, but you can go now.”

  “You got any more coffee?” Reggie scanned the counter.

  “Ricky, why don’t you show Reggie out?”

  He didn’t hesitate. He strode to the door, slapping a hand on Reggie’s shoulder as he did to steer the man to the exit.

  “It’s been fun, Reg, but I think we should give her some time to wake up. See you around.”

  Once Reggie was out the door, Ricky let out a long sigh and turned back around. He saw Sarah resting her chin in her hand at the table, eyes closed. He dashed over and slammed the book shut.

  “Hey, hey! Wakey, wakey!”

  “Huh? I’m up,” Sarah said with a yawn and popped her lids back open. “I’m awake.”

  “You’d better be,” he said, grumbling, and picked up the book. “Why don’t I go put this back?”

  Sarah fixed her eyes on the book. He should burn it in hell, she thought as she remembered her conversation with Vasimus. “Good idea.”

  Ricky came over and helped her take the bracelet off her wrist. She handed it over to him, knowing he needed the key to lock up the book, but it seemed surreal to trust him with it.

  “Why don’t you get up and have some coffee? You look like you need it. I don’t remember feeling tired when I woke up,” Ricky said.

  “Ha. Well, you’re younger than I am. Besides, I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

  She forced herself up and over to the counter where she fumbled with the coffeemaker. She could sleep for twelve hours, if given the chance. It seemed her motor skills weren’t back to normal. When had that ever happened from a trip into the book? Maybe it was worse the older the person was.

  “Did you see Vasimus?” Ricky asked.

  She set her cup down in front of her and stared at it. “Yes.”

  “Was it a romantic reunion?”

  “No. Just the opposite. Can we not talk about him? Ever?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Sarah picked up her cup as she heard Ricky cart the book to the door. She stared at the steam rising up, processing the events of the day in her fuzzy mind.

  Ricky called, “You know, I don’t think I would have liked that guy as an uncle anyways.”

  Finally, something to make her laugh. Ricky and his crazy comments. “Why? Because I wouldn’t be able to send you Christmas presents from Farwin Wood.”

  She waited to hear him laugh. He liked her jokes when he wasn’t pissed off at her. It wasn’t laughter she heard next, but Ricky’s very serious and mature reply. “No, because you deserve someone who looks out for your best interests.”

  She turned around to make sure it was Ricky who had actually spoken those words, but she only saw the door closing. How had her nephew become so prophetic in the last two days? What had Vasimus said to him to make him say such a thing?

  She was humbled by Ricky’s protectiveness and concern, but she hated that he might be aware that Vasimus had manipulated her emotions. Ricky didn’t understand what it was like to sacrifice your love for someone. Her heart was heavy, knowing that today started the process of once again trying to forget the man.

  MONDAY MORNING the shop was full of customers, which kept both Sarah and her nephew busy. She had Ricky man the cash register, and he did so without rebuttal. It would take a while to get used to him being agreeable, but she liked it, especially today; she didn’t have the energy to deal with his difficult side.

  She desperately wanted to get off her feet. Going upstairs and curling up under her blankets sounded like a better idea, but that wouldn’t be responsible of her. She was exhausted and, if she was honest with herself, a little depressed. On top of that, she felt like she was starting to get sick.

  At one point, she noticed Henry was in the store. She saw him leaning on his hand truck, talking to Ricky, and decided it was a good time for her to reclaim her chair.

  When she reached the counter, Ricky gave her a pointed look and said, “I was just telling Henry here how you took me camping this weekend. We forgot to let him know I wouldn’t be around for football practice.”

  “Henry, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, I came by and was surprised to see the store closed. I’ve never seen you close the store for anything,” Henry said.

  “Hey, she just wanted to spend some quality time with her favorite nephew,” Ricky said, wriggling his thumbs at his chest and then left them to go man the floor.

  Henry laughed, but Sarah still felt three feet tall for forgetting. Her head was so groggy; she needed to sit down. “We should have called, Henry. I’m really sorry we forgot.”

  “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m glad, though. You need to get out of t
his place more. Honestly, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you around town in the five years since I moved back to Salem.”

  “Well, it’s hard for me to get away, but I thought it was worth it to get Ricky away from here.” She rested her arms on the counter. “I don’t want him going back home saying what a boring summer he had with his aunt.”

  “I don’t think he’s bored. He looks pretty happy actually. You two must be getting along better than the last time I saw you.”

  Sarah lifted her head to locate Ricky. The effort drained even more of her energy. Was it the exhaustion or her lousy mood? She rubbed her hands over her face and spoke lazily through them: “Yeah, we are. What a day in the woods will do, huh?”

  “I didn’t know you liked the outdoors.”

  “There’s not much to look at here on Blinney Lane, and I barely have a yard to speak of, so I’ve always liked the wilderness. When I was able to see it, that is.” She let her hands drop and folded her arms in front of her, resting her weight on them.

  “Well, I know some great spots around here to go fishing or for a hike if you’re interested,” he offered.

  “Oh. Well, I think I’ve had enough of the great outdoors for a little while.” She felt nauseous and put her palm to her forehead, feeling the perspiration there. She forced a meek smile and added, “But thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

  “Are you all right, Sarah? You look a little pale.”

  Sarah let her hand drop from her forehead and brought it to her stomach. She didn’t think she was, but Henry didn’t need to know that.

  “I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just a little tired today for some reason.”

  The concern on his face was touching as he moved his hand truck around to deposit her boxes. She stared out the window, her breath labored. How the view from her stool seemed gloomier than it had just a few days ago before she’d learned about all the chaos she had caused.

  “Sarah?” Henry murmured.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Henry’s voice was full concern.