by Jayne Pupek
I wanted to come back with something clever, but couldn’t think of anything, so I kept packing. Only so many things fit inside a paper bag, so I chose the most important, knowing I could always come back tomorrow. Down the hall is not far to travel.
Tess could pout and brood on her own. “I want to be with my mother. It’s where I belong.”
“Well, I don’t want to sleep in here by myself. There’s too many strange noises. Tree branches tapping on the window and Jellybean scratching the floor of his box. Just the other night, a mouse was chewing on the lamp cord. I heard his little teeth hit each other.”
She was making up excuses. The tree limbs barely reached the window; we didn’t have any mice; and Jellybean never woke in the dark. Still, I didn’t want to argue. “Well, Jellybean will be with me, so you won’t hear him. Daddy can set a mousetrap and trim back the tree limbs. Just ask him. He’ll do anything you want.” I tried not to say the word you louder than the other words, but couldn’t help myself. None of this would have happened if Tess hadn’t come to our home. Daddy would be caring for Mama, sleeping in the room with her. Her pansies would be blooming in the garden. Maybe, just maybe, the baby would not have died.
“You don’t understand.” Reaching over the edge of the bed, Tess grabbed the paper sack from my hand and turned it upside down.
My clothes, shoes, and toothbrush fell to the floor.
“Tess!” My hands went to my hips and I stood there like a mother scolding her child.
“Don’t be mad at me, Ellie,” she begged, tilting her head to one side and wrinkling her forehead. “I don’t like to be alone in the dark. Don’t you ever feel afraid when you open your eyes and see nothing but black? Afraid to reach out because you don’t know what’s there? Don’t leave me, Ellie.”
Kneeling on the floor, I picked up my belongings and crammed them back inside the paper sack.
My feelings were as jumbled as a shoebox full of crayons. I hated Tess for the way she treated Mama, taking over the kitchen and garden, moving Daddy into the sewing room, sending the ghost dress to the hospital. I hated her cucumber sandwiches, her pouty red lips, and the way she drew my father’s eyes like a magnet.
And yet, Tess wasn’t all bad. She’d been like a big sister, playing Avon Lady and dress-up. She’d given me kissing lessons and my first Kotex. She could be mean, but with the epilepsy, no mother, and a dirty father who did awful things to her, maybe she didn’t know better.
Still, my mother needed me. More and more, Tess had my father, leaving only me to care for Mama.
If not for Tess, maybe Mama wouldn’t have gone back into her sad world or sent the baby to the freezer. Even if Daddy couldn’t have saved the baby, he would have been here when it died. He’d have known what to say to Mama. He would have buried the baby in the ground where dead things belonged.
“Well?” Tess waited for an answer.
My eyes stung, but hard blinks kept me from crying. Yes, I knew what it was like to be scared. I felt scared all the time. My whole life I’d been afraid of Mama’s dark places taking her for good, scared that those same places might live inside me. Now I feared that Tess would take away my father, and my mother might grow so sad I wouldn’t know how to make her smile again.
But I didn’t owe Tess an answer. She’d taken too much. I wouldn’t give her anything else. Sometimes you have to hold onto what you have, even if the only thing left is fear.
I grabbed Jellybean, dragged my sack down the hall, and moved into Mama’s room.
“HAVE YOU SEEN the baby, Ellie?” Mama asked. She lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling.
I tucked my bag inside one of Daddy’s empty dresser drawers. The unfinished wood smelled of his aftershave. I inhaled deeply, as if I could breathe Daddy back into this room. “No, Mama. I’ve spent the day playing with Mary and Jellybean.”
The saucer by the bed told me she’d hardly eaten any of the cake. “Mama, you have to eat something. Didn’t you like the cake? Mrs. Roberts made it for you, a get well present.”
She touched the blue pansies on the tray, her fingers stroking the skirt-shaped petals. “I’m worried about the baby, Ellie. So cold, it’s so cold in the freezer. And the basement gets completely dark; there’s only that slit for a window. Babies are always afraid of the dark.”
“It’s not too dark. Daddy put a new lightbulb in the freezer about a week ago.”
Seeming satisfied, she settled back against her pillow and looked at me. Her brow furrowed, which meant something troubled her. “He’s got to have a name, Ellie. I haven’t been able to think of one. It’s like my head’s thick with clouds,” she said, scrubbing her temples with her fists.
Climbing on the bed, I placed my hands over hers. “Easy, Mama. Your head will feel better if you rub like this.”
Her hands slowed under mine.
“There, that’s better. You’ll think of a good name later, Mama. Try not to worry about that right now.” I offered her some cake. “You have to eat to keep up your strength.” I said it steady and firm, just like she used to tell me to eat my chicken soup when I had a cold.
She opened her mouth and took a bite of buttery cake. Mama didn’t bother to take the fork in her hand or to wipe the yellow crumbs from her lips, but let me feed her the way a mother feeds a baby. This is how her mind works, wrapping itself so tight around a thought or idea she cannot remember simple things like feeding herself.
After finishing the cake, Mama wanted to know about Daddy and Tess. Her eyes darted around the room as if she expected to see Tess standing in a corner, eavesdropping. “She doesn’t come around me, did you notice?”
I placed the empty saucer on the bedside table and walked into the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her mouth. The clothes hamper with the bloody gown and panties reminded me I’d need to move them before Tess did the laundry. Maybe I’d sneak them to the basement or to the trash can beside Daddy’s toolshed. Washing them myself would be too risky.
“You know why that slut stays away from me, don’t you?” Mama asked as I came back into her room. If she kept up this way, she’d soon worry herself into a crying spell. After Mama’s anger rises so far, the tears follow.
“Daddy said it would be best if he and I look after you.” I walked over to Mama and dabbed the crumbs from her lips.
“Yes, and what will her job be? As if I didn’t know.” Mama’s brow wrinkled.
“Tess will help Daddy at the store and do the cooking and cleaning here.” I folded the damp cloth and covered her forehead.
“They’re up to no good, the two of them. You understand what I mean, don’t you, Ellie? They’re sleeping together, I know it.”
“Mama, please. I don’t want to talk about Daddy and Tess. I just want you to get better so she can leave and we can be like we used to be.”
My face warmed with shame to think what Tess and my Daddy might be doing. I didn’t understand it all, but knew a little. Mary Roberts had given me the birds and bees talk. She’d undressed Barbie and Ken and rubbed them together, face to face. I didn’t want to think of my Daddy like the naked Ken doll on top of Tess.
Mama pulled the cover up under her chin. “We won’t ever be like we used to be, Ellie. Not as long as that whore lives here.”
“But she’ll leave, Mama. When you’re better.”
She shook her head. “No, no, no! You don’t see. You don’t know your father. He won’t let her go. I see it in his face.” The quiver in her voice told me she was about to cry.
“Here, Mama, we need to play with Jellybean.” I placed him on the bed. Mama’s words made me want to cry, too, but if I broke down, who would hold Mama together?
She smiled and cupped her hands around him. I sighed, glad to see her attention shift to my green chick. “Have you taken him to show the baby?”
Talking about the dead baby gave me a sick feeling, but talking about Daddy and Tess was worse. That hurt went all through me like a dull butter knife. “I haven’t, Mama, b
ut will tomorrow.”
“You’re a good girl, Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m counting on you to look after the baby for me. Go and check on him, tell him he’s going to be fine. I know he’s frightened. I heard him cry.”
“Cry?” My skin prickled and felt cold.
“Yes. While I was napping, he kept crying for me. It was awful, Ellie. I need to see him. You’ll bring him up to me soon, Ellie? When your Daddy goes to work?”
“Mr. Morgan’s going to fill in for Daddy for awhile. Try not to worry, Mama. You need to rest. We’ll figure this out. Promise.”
I curled up beside my mother and rested my head beside her face. For awhile, I lay on the bed beside Mama, the two of us curled into each other like question marks.
“There has to be a way to get rid of her, Ellie. It doesn’t matter how. She needs to leave. I was thinking maybe if I wrote to her father. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll write him and explain why she can’t stay. Or maybe I’ll telephone him. He’s bound to have a phone out there, if I can get the number … in the phone directory … or maybe the operator will know …”
Mama’s voice trailed off.
The room soon darkened. Storm clouds blew in and spilled rain. I fell asleep to the sound of raindrops on the tin roof.
I DREAMED THE dead baby crawled out of the freezer to find me. His blue body shivered from the cold. Pulling himself up the stairs, he squirmed his way from step to step, not so much crawling, but moving the way an earthworm does.
Daddy walked in and found the baby, then snatched him up in his arms. Covering the baby’s mouth with his, Daddy breathed the baby back to life. Mama and I watched as the baby’s tiny chest expanded like a thin balloon, the delicate ribs bending like stems. The frost melted away and pink skin showed through. The baby didn’t shiver or struggle, but curled in Daddy’s arms.
Mama smiled and held out her hands. She wanted to hold her baby. Her eyes filled with hopeful tears. I held my hands out toward the baby, too.
Daddy didn’t give the baby back to my mother or me. He said we’d killed his son.
Mama screamed, “No, Rupert! Please! Give me my baby.”
Daddy shook his head and turned his back to us. He walked to the opposite side of the room and handed the baby to Tess.
A loud bang woke me. It had been raining as I fell asleep, but the noise that woke me was too loud to be thunder. My heart burned like a hot coil. My ears rang.
I knew that sound, had heard it up close once before. Last fall, while walking in deep woods with my father, we’d found a deer caught in barbed wire. Her neck, sliced open, spilled so much blood that Daddy said nothing could be done. He had to put her out of her misery. I’d turned away, not wanting to see. Even with my hands pressing my ears, the noise had pounded inside my head.
In the dark room, I touched my mother’s side of the bed. My hand felt a cold sheet where her body had been.
EIGHTEEN
THE GUN
I SAT UP IN BED, frozen in place, too afraid to go downstairs. The blasts had sounded so loud, rattling the walls and floor.
The thought of Mama or Daddy, lying dead on the kitchen floor, made me shudder with fear. “Let it be Tess,” I prayed as I sat in the dark.
I knew that was a bad thing to say. It’s always wrong to wish somebody dead, even your worst enemy. I didn’t care. “Please, God, don’t let it be Mama or Daddy. I won’t ever ask another thing as long as I live. If somebody was shot, please let it be Tess.”
I wondered if Mason Reed had come for Tess, and he and Daddy had fought. Neither Tess nor Daddy had said anything about their trip to pick up Tess’s tomato plants. Had Mr. Reed been there? And where was Mama? Had Daddy found the baby and argued with her about it? Would Mama shoot Tess to keep Daddy?
Maybe this wasn’t even about Tess or the baby. Maybe a robber had broken in to steal the few nice things we owned, Mama’s good china or Daddy’s radio.
But in those few long, dark seconds after the shots fired, I heard Tess cry, and then Daddy’s voice as he swore out loud.
I didn’t hear Mama. I strained to listen, but the floorboards muffled their voices. I heard dull, scuffling noises like furniture moving across the floor and glass breaking, but no sound from Mama.
Somehow, I had to make myself go downstairs. The phone was there, by the kitchen table. If Mama or Daddy were hurt, the ambulance wouldn’t know to come unless someone called.
I crawled out of bed and tiptoed in the dark, feeling my way with my hands to the door and into the hallway. A little light from downstairs made it easier to see going down the steps.
There, in the kitchen, Tess leaned against the stove. She pressed a dish towel against her face and sobbed.
Daddy lay on the floor, pinning my mother face down under him.
I couldn’t move. I’d never seen my father hurt my mother on purpose.
“Give me the gun, Julia.” His hands pressed Mama’s body against the black and white tiles.
My hands shook.
Sweat dripped from Daddy’s forehead. His shirt, stained with sweat and dirt, clung to his wide back.
Mama struggled against my father. “Get off me, Rupert!” She gripped the rifle under her belly.
Daddy managed to pull the gun from beneath her and shove it across the slick floor, out of reach.
As Daddy stood up, Mama pulled herself to her knees and tried to crawl away, but Daddy grabbed a handful of her nightgown to hold her in place. He locked his arms around her waist and held her. She kicked and screamed, her eyes so glassy and wide they scared me. Dirt covered the front of her gown, dark smudges the size of her hands. My mother’s blue pansies scattered on the floor.
Everything happened so fast, I didn’t know how to make sense of any of it. Maybe Mama went to the cellar to visit the dead baby. Maybe she couldn’t sleep and wanted to take a walk, or had come downstairs to find Mr. Reed’s phone number. She must have gone outside and seen the flowers Daddy dug up to make room for Tess’s tomato plants. Had Mama gone to the shed to get Daddy’s gun? Maybe Daddy heard her outside and thought she was a prowler. Or maybe …
Just then, Mama saw me on the bottom step. “Ellie,” She reached out her hands to me. “Help me, Ellie, don’t let them put me away, please. Please help … don’t let them …”
“Daddy, don’t hurt her.” I came closer and tried to touch my mother, but Daddy shouted, “No!” His harsh voice startled me, making me cry.
Daddy dragged Mama to the pantry near the back porch. After shoving her inside, he grabbed a chair and wedged it under the doorknob to keep her there.
I moved toward the door.
“Don’t you touch that chair,” he ordered, pointing his finger at me.
“I can’t … I can’t … take this, Rupert,” Tess said between sobs.
“It’s okay, honey. Just relax.” Daddy went to Tess and wrapped his arms around her.
Tess pointed at the wall where there were two black holes. The bullets had wedged in the kitchen wall near her.
Mama banged and kicked inside the pantry. Kneeling on the floor, I tried to talk to her through the tiny keyhole. “Mama, don’t.” But she kept pounding and kicking, making too much noise to hear my voice.
She said bad words, too. Awful words. And her voice sounded so hard.
Tess wrapped her arms around my father’s neck and cried. “She’s mean, Rupert! I don’t want to stay in this house with a crazy, mean woman.”
Daddy stroked her hair and told her not to fret.
I tapped on the pantry door. Using my knuckles, I kept tapping, slow and gentle like a heartbeat.
Mama quieted down.
Daddy saw me by the door. “Ellie, get away from there. Come on, we’re going upstairs,” he said.
“But, what about Mama? We can’t leave her here.” Determined not to leave, I held onto the doorknob.
“She needs to calm down, Ellie. Just for awhile.” Daddy knelt beside me and held out his hand.
> “You’ll let her out later?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
I put my hand into my father’s and let him pull me up. I didn’t want to leave, but knew the sooner I did what Daddy wanted, the sooner he’d open the door and let Mama out of the pantry.
UPSTAIRS, DADDY HELPED Tess into my bathtub so she could soak. He poured her a drink from his whiskey bottle and told her to finish it all. “This will make you feel better,” he said.
I wished there was a pretty amber drink that would make me feel better, but Daddy never let me even sip from the whiskey bottle.
I sat on the floor outside the bathroom and chewed on my cuticle. As soon as I could stand up, I’d check on Jellybean, and then I’d talk to Daddy about Mama. She wouldn’t spend the night in the pantry. Daddy had promised.
Just as the house quieted, someone knocked on the door downstairs. At first, I thought it was Mama, but Daddy looked out the window and swore. “Goddamn, it’s Sheriff Rhodes.”
“A neighbor must have heard the gunshot,” Tess said.
“Shit, this is all I need. Christ!” Then he turned to me. “I want you to keep Tess company for awhile, Ellie. Read to her or something. Everybody just needs to relax a little, okay?” Daddy wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt sleeve.
I tried to offer a smile, but couldn’t. I nodded, then walked to my room and pretended to look at a book.
Daddy went downstairs. The back door slammed.
I waited a moment, then tiptoed into the hallway. I didn’t want to be seen.
Down the hall, Tess refilled the bathtub.
The sound of a car pulling away told me Daddy had lied. If Sheriff Rhodes knew Mama was locked in the pantry, he wouldn’t have left her there. The sheriff thought the world of Mama. Once, when he’d said his wife made fun of his charcoal drawing of eggs, bowls, and apples, Mama kissed his smudged fingers and told him he had Picasso’s hands. He’d adored my mother since.
A few minutes after the car drove away, Daddy came in carrying something. When he turned on the light, I saw the syringe and brown jar in his hand.