Mother Lode

  Although he continued to enjoy holding and dancing with Kaarina, he was troubled now. Ma was expecting to marry this man, and here he was, in a public dance hall with another woman!

  He felt a constriction in his throat. The road to freedom was disappearing in the dust of the dance floor.

  Should he tell her?

  “You went where?” Catherine bellowed.

  “To the dance hall.”

  “You took that person to the dance hall?”

  “Ma, I’m trying to tell you I saw Mr. Markel there with another woman. I thought you should know.”

  “I instruct you in the art of dancing, so we might have a bit of pleasure together in our own home, and you take my gift to go off cavorting with her!”

  “I appreciate the lessons, but I have a right — “

  Her voice was rising to a roar. “You deceived me! I gave you—”

  “Don’t bray, Ma!”

  She reached up and slapped him sharply across the face.

  He rose to go upstairs. “You don’t own me.”

  Chapter 28

  That August even the breeze felt like a blast from a smelting furnace. Jorie’d promised Helena he’d bring Eliza back for another visit, but the real reason he wanted to go was he was hoping Helena would have more information for him. This time he’d sent word so she’d be expecting them.

  When they arrived, Helena swung Eliza around as the child squealed with delight. “There’s my darlin’ girl.”

  “Daniel’s here today. Himself ’ll be right pleased to meet you.”

  Her husband walked down the steps. “So this is the lass you’ve been weepin’ o’er these many months. And here be the lad I been hearin’ about for thirty years or more.”

  Jorie blushed.

  “Don’t recall a day as hot as this in ten year, do you? Must be the deevil heatin’ up his furnaces to remind us what waits us below.”

  “Oh, don’t be talking,” Helena laughed.

  “It’s a cool drink we’ll be needing. I reckon the lad is old enough to have a draft of cider.”

  Helena left to fix the refreshments, Eliza on her heels.

  Daniel turned to Jorie. “Is it still working with the type-setting you’re doing, or have you moved up to writing the whole paper now?”

  Jorie smiled. “A little of both. I sneak in a piece now and then.”

  Helena brought in their drinks, and after a bit she gave Daniel a look and a nudge. He drained his glass and said there was something down at the pond he wanted to show Eliza.

  Helena and Jorie sat on the porch swing. “I told him you might be wanting a bit of a chat, and would he take the child to see the polliwogs.” She dabbed the perspiration on her neck away with a large handkerchief. “Has she forgotten me, Jorie, or does she miss me still?”

  “She misses you, Helena.” He brushed the mosquito buzzing near Helena’s neck away.

  Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. “I love that little lassie. You too, mind, when you were a little lad. Though in your case you were so filled with your mum’s love, there wasn’t much space for me in your heart. But poor little Eliza, she was empty, she was, and had all the room in the world for me.”

  She blew her nose loudly. Jorie felt like doing the same.

  “I miss her somethin’ fierce. I couldn’t have any of my own, not after . . . I lost the one. Your little sister was the same to me as if I’d born her.”

  Jorie let a silence fall between them, while the mosquitoes, as thick in summer as snow in the winter, buzzed around them.

  Then he said, “It’s a nice home you have here, Helena. I’m glad providence was good to you.”

  “Providence, is it! Your father, that’s who it was.”

  He didn’t think he’d heard right, and stared at her, dumbfounded.

  “It’s just as amazed we were,” she smiled. “Begod and bejasus, we never would have dreamed in a million year, your pa would be so generous.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor did we. Shortly after the will was read, we was notified that Mr. Radcliff had left me a tidy bit. ‘For her long and faithful service to the family’ is what it said.”

  She looked up with pride. “What do you think of that, lad?”

  “Splendid,” was all he could say.

  “How else did you think we got this place?” She fanned herself with her handkerchief. “It weren’t the leprechauns that brought the bag ‘o gold, believe you me.” She sat rocking, musing.

  “Pa lost everything, you know. His stock failed.” He hoped to get Helena to open up some more.

  “Failed is it? Like the sun fails to set. No, lad, you got that all wrong. Your father died a rich man, he did.”

  “My mother, we . . .we don’t have anything, except what I earn. That’s why I have to stay home.”

  “Is it now? Is it indeed?”

  He thought she looked angry, dabbing at the perspiration on her forehead.

  “You’re stayin’ home because that’s where your ma wants you. And that’s the long and short of it, lad.”

  “No, Helena, I’m sorry, you’re mistaken. Perhaps he thought he had money when he wrote the will, but there was nothing. Mother took all the stock certificates to the lawyer, and they’re worthless.”

  Helena just shook her head, and watched him carefully. “Maybe you’ve heard enough for one day.”

  “No. Go on. Please.”

  “Well, this much I’ll tell you. One day when your ma was out your pa asked me to witness the will he’d written. ‘Read it first,’ says he to me, ‘before you sign it.’ ‘I can’t read, not that kind of fancy language,’ says I. ‘Then I’ll read it to you,’ says he, and he did. He said something about feeling bad he hadn’t done more for us in our Hour of Need, he did. That was when Daniel lost his arm in the mine, and I was at such sixes and sevens about it, I lost the baby I was carrying. Oh, such a time was that. Anyway, he said he wanted to make it up to us. Saints be with us, you could have blown me over. Of course, I had no idea it would be comin’ to us so soon, or so much, God save us all. But it weren’t more ‘n three weeks later he took sick and died.”

  “I see,” said Jorie, but he didn’t see at all.

  “And as for you, lad, I’m sure you know your brothers got a sum when they turned eighteen—mostly company stock. But yer father wanted you to get yer education. That’s what himself said to me. And it was right there in the will that you would get your sum in cash when you turned to the age of eighteen.”

  “Yes, Mother says that money is intact.”

  Helena crossed herself. “I should hope so.”

  “But the rest of it — maybe he didn’t know his stock was worthless.”

  “Believe what you like, lad. Believe in the faeries, if it suits you, and put milk out for ‘em so they won’t take yer firstborn, like we did in the ole country.”

  His head was in a swim. What could have happened to the money? Who was he to believe?

  “Helena, would you mind looking after Eliza for awhile?”

  “Mind! It would be all the saints blessing me at once!”

  He ran along the dirt roads all the way to the lawyer’s office, stirring up a cloud of dust which lodged on his sweat covered skin. He prayed he wouldn’t be too late; he was determined to ferret out the truth.

  He had met Mr. Wilson a few times at the house. The lawyer received him warmly.

  “I was just closing up, lad. But come in, come in.”

  “I’m sorry to keep you, but it’s important.”

  “That’s all right. How are you, and how’re you doing down at the University?”

  He was out of breath, and the sweat was pouring down his back. “I’m not in school, Mr. Wilson.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. What can I do for you?”

  Jorie was so afraid he was out of line; he had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking.

  “I wonder if I might see a copy of my father’s will,” he s
aid as strongly as he could.

  “I don’t see why not. I was surprised you weren’t at the reading. Your brothers were there.”

  When was that? Why hadn’t he been told?

  “I, I didn’t know about it.”

  Mr. Wilson raised his eyebrows. “That’s strange. I thought perhaps you’d gone below to the college.”

  Jorie shook his head.

  “How old are you, lad?”

  “Not quite eighteen.”

  “Well, that could explain it, I suppose. Being a minor, your mother may have decided not to include you. That was her prerogative, of course.”

  Mr. Wilson fished around in his files and finally produced a folded legal document.

  “I can’t let you take it, but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow and read it.”

  “Did my father leave me anything?”

  “Oh, yes. Same as your brothers, let’s see here.”

  “Mr. Wilson, sir, do you know, at the time of his death, if there were actually funds available, to be dispersed as stated in the will?”

  “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Did he leave my mother enough to live on?”

  “If she lives to be one hundred.”

  Jorie thought his heart would surely give out. “Are you certain?”

  “I am. His stock, you see, is doing very well.”

  Jorie left the lawyer’s office in a tear, determined to confront his mother. He ran through town, dodging crowds. Why were there so many people choking the walks and streets? Then he heard it—the sound of drums and horns. It was the circus parade coming right down Hancock Street! To avoid them he cut over to Quincy. After three blocks, thinking he’d outrun them by now, he darted up Reservation Street back to Hancock. But they were thicker than ever here. As the hot August dust choked him with its unrelenting blast he bolted through and around bystanders and participants alike, colliding with a clown, practically trampled by the elephant.

  Finally reaching the house, he looked wildly about for his mother, first on the ground floor, then upstairs. He burst into her room, but she wasn’t there. Retracing his steps he caught sight her in his sister’s room.

  She was on the bed, with only a towel covering her.

  He bellowed, “What are you doing in Eliza’s room?”

  “What’s wrong with you? It’s the coolest room in the house.”

  “Get up! You’ve no right in here!” he panted.

  “Of course I have. The whole house is mine!”

  “Get out! Where are your clothes?”

  She looked frightened. “I’ve just had my bath.”

  “I said, ‘Get out!’”

  She rose, grasping the towel in front of her. “Jorie! Are you mad?”

  “Everything, it was all a lie! You don’t need my money — you’ve enough to last forever! “

  She trembled, and for a moment he thought she might faint.

  She stammered, “I had to tell you that to keep you here. Please try to understand, Jorie.”

  He grabbed her arms and the towel fell to the floor. She tried to pick it up and he kicked it aside.

  “Jorie, let go of me!”

  He lifted an arm and held it in contracted force ready to strike; finally he willed it to his side, advancing toward her.

  “Deceit! That’s all it’s been. Lies, schemes, deception! Have you ever been honest about anything?” He shook her, pushing her backwards, as he spoke. “Have you?”

  “Do you think I enjoyed lying to you? I had no choice!”

  She backed into the rocking horse, then fell on it. The picture of his mother’s naked body on Eliza’s rocking horse was macabre. He pulled her away from it, and pushed her on the bed. She grabbed him, causing him to lose his balance and fall on top of her.

  She tried to hold him there. “Jorie, I love you! More than anything! You know that! Come to me, my precious.”

  Her body twisted against his. Something inside his head was ringing and spinning. Like a snake, her arms coiled around him drawing his head down to her. If he stayed a moment longer the unthinkable would happen.

  Suddenly, the ringing stopped and he felt a chord snap. The picture shifted slightly, and he saw her— not a goddess of beauty and power, but a desperate, pathetic human being resorting to anything to get her way. As she grasped him ever more tightly, he forcibly uncoupled from her arms and rose.

  He picked up her towel and tossed it to her. “Get dressed and get out of this room.”

  His clothes were wet through with sweat. Exhausted, he went to the back of the house, dipped a bucket in the rain barrel and dumped it over his head. The coolness helped him collect his thoughts.

  One thing at a time. Eliza. Yes, she was still at Helena’s. He must go get her. Thank God she hadn’t been home to witness the terrible debacle in her bedroom.

  He used the long walk to try to piece together his mother’s deception. Acting, it was all play-acting. The crying over the table with the worthless stock certificates. The china she’d traded to get the player piano. How she made as though they’d barely have enough to eat if he didn’t forfeit all of his salary. And her engagement to Mr. Markel, while keeping him on the hook. The more he remembered the sicker he got until half way across town he threw up in the ditch.

  When he finally reached Helena’s street, he could see her on the walk waiting for him.

  Eliza ran up to him. “Where were you, Jawie?”

  “Daniel, take the child for another walk, will you?”

  They left with a jar to collect some polliwogs.

  “Tell me lad, what happened to you. Saints be with us, you’ve a face on you like the deevil drug you over hot coals, and back again.”

  Only inarticulate noises came out. Finally, the dam broke.

  “That’s it, lad. Let it out. Let it all out. Faith and Begorrah, you’ve had a fright.”

  Much of it — the image of his naked mother, his shame, he couldn’t tell her.

  Finally he managed to say, “She lied to me, Helena. She fabricated all those stories about having no money just to keep me home.”

  “I t’ought as much. Aye.”

  “She admitted—it was to keep me home.”

  “I knew she’d stop you from going one way or the other. It wasn’t my business to inquire how.”

  The tears streamed down his face. “She lied to me! Everything she preached about trust and honesty — it was all a deception with her.”

  She looked at him sympathetically. “I think you just grew up today.”

  He was quiet finally, and Helena brought him a cup of cold tea. When he’d composed himself they walked down to the pond to fetch Eliza. She showed him the polliwogs in the jar.

  “Look at my ‘wogs, Jawie. They’re going to turn into frogs!”

  Helena put her hand on his arm as they watched the creatures squirm in the jar. ”Everything changes,” she mused.

  Chapter 29

  He wanted to leave the house for good that night, but he had promised to take Izzy to the circus. The next afternoon they joined the throngs entering the big tent outside the village. Her joy at seeing the thrilling feats of the performers made up for missing the parade. But though he loved to see her happy, it tore him apart; he knew he must leave her if he were ever to shake off his mother’s grasp.

  He left the house that night with a few of his belongings and moved in with Phillip and his mother. He would bide his time for three more weeks until his birthday, at which time he’d collect his inheritance and leave for Ann Arbor. At least he no longer had the burden of supporting his mother, nor felt any filial duty to her at all.

  Away from Ma, he had a lot of time to think. Perhaps there’d been a kind of victory that night in Eliza’s room, after all. He’d finally conquered the perversity that had been his nemesis. A sense of freedom descended on him.

  He felt sad when he thought of Kaarina. He too, had been deceitful. What if she’d known his feelings for his mother? What if she knew him
as he actually was? He didn’t feel clean enough to be with her, to accept her love. Besides, he was too young to contemplate any serious romance. With Kaarina it could be nothing else. He should go to her, explain why he had to end the relationship.

  Two weeks went by, then one morning when he finished work, she was waiting outside for him. She looked uncomfortable, but still she attempted a smile.