With the release of the rope, the rattle sounded. I grabbed it quickly to still the sound.
“Hey!”
I turned as Boyd charged back toward the fort. I stood and tried to block the snake from him.
“Whaddya think yer doin’?” He skidded to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Me? You’re the one who stole the snake.” My face turned hot. “I’m not the one who’s torturing one of God’s creatures.”
He sneered. “I wanted to see if cold-blooded meant it bled blue instead of red.”
My jaw went slack, and words failed me. How could someone be so intentionally cruel?
“Get outta the way. It’s my snake now.”
I folded my arms. “No. You’re going to leave this poor creature alone.”
“Boyd.” Grady hollered for him as his boots clomped through the grass. “What the hell are you doin’, son?”
When he reached us, he smacked the back of Boyd’s head. “I tol’ you to get to the house.” He glared at me. “What’re you doing here, girl?”
For once I wasn’t going to let this man intimidate me. “Saving a snake from Boyd. He’s been torturing it.”
He stepped forward and shoved me to the side to glare at the snake. “Boyd, what did I tell you ‘bout playing with your food?”
Food?
Grady scooped up the knife, twirled it between his fingers, and grinned. Then whoosh. He whirled the knife through the air and cut the snake’s head off. “Take this to the house, Boyd.”
My stomach heaved. “Noooooo.” Tears sprang into my eyes and my hands curled into fists. I lunged at him.
He caught my fist in his hand, spun me around, and yanked my arm behind my back. “Girl, don’t think you can take me on.” He leaned in and talked directly into my ear, his sour breath hitting my nostrils. “I’m not taking any guff from some half-breed mu-lat-to.”
He drew the word out.
“You try and I’ll smack the mongrel outta ya. You’re gonna learn who’s in charge around here. And it ain’t you.”
He shoved me forward, and I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet. When I turned to face him, he backhanded me to the ground.
His upper lip curled. “Let this be a lesson to ya. Don’t back talk me, girl. You get up and come back to the house. We’re gonna have lunch.” He kicked some dirt in my face and strode away.
Holding my face where he had smacked me, I pushed up to a sitting position with my other arm. The snake’s head stared at me. Tears streamed down my face. After all I had done to save it, it had died anyway.
I couldn’t leave the head there. Some other animal might come along and try to eat it. The thought nauseated me. Boyd had brought the gloves from the shack for handling the snake before it had been tied on the board. I pulled them on and picked up the head.
As I walked toward the creek, I grabbed a stout stick. I used it to dig a hole in the soft ground. I dug as far as I could, dropped the head in the hole, said a silent prayer for the snake, and covered it with dirt.
My arms and face streaked with mud, I approached the house. Grady stood on the front porch, hands on hips, glaring at me.
“What took you so long, girl? Lunch is ready.” He shook his head. “You look like the dirty mutt you are. Clean that filth off and get to the table.”
I cleaned the mud off, but couldn’t clean the dusky red mark left by Grady’s hand. I’d have a bruise in a day or two. My stomach knotted tighter. Something was wrong. Grady never called me into lunch. He had been waiting for me. And nothing good would come of it.
As I sat at the table, Mrs. Jackson brought out a plate covered in breaded and fried meat strips, almost like chicken fingers, and placed it on the table.
Grady forked a few pieces onto his plate. “It’s not often we get to have such a delicacy.”
He drew the word out like he didn’t say it often. Which was probably the truth.
He took a bite and pointed his knife at me. “You should fill your plate.”
Boyd grabbed some strips and squirted ketchup on his plate.
Grady nodded. “That’s some of the best rattlesnake I’ve ever had. Eat up, girl.”
I pushed away from the table. He had cooked the snake?
“Whassa matter? Do you think you’re too good to eat what we put on the table?”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry. Please, excuse me.”
He stood and his chair fell over. “No. You’re gonna sit right here until you eat some of this fine food we provided.”
“Grady.”
Mrs. Jackson to the rescue?
Though soft, her tone held admonishment. “I don’t think—”
“I didn’t ask you to think.” He slammed his fist on the table. “This girl is not allowed to turn her nose up at what we place before her.” He strode over, grabbed some pieces of snake and put it on my plate. “Now eat.”
I stared at the brown strips and my stomach lurched. The memory of the blistered underbelly rose in my mind.
Grady grabbed my jaw, forced it open, and shoved in a chunk of meat. “Chew.”
All I could think about was the pus and blood draining from the blisters and my stomach lurched again. I spat the meat out and covered my mouth. Rolling off my chair, I ran for the bathroom.
I reached the toilet and heaved. Wave after wave hit until I thought I’d never be done purging my system. When the dry heaves finally subsided, I hauled my body up to the sink. Knees trembling, I scrubbed my teeth and splashed water on my face.
A soft knock sounded on the door. “Melody? Are you all right?” Mrs. Jackson cracked open the door. “Miss Prescott will be here soon, so you’ll need to pack your things. Grady says you can’t stay here no more.”
Relief flooded through me. I wanted to curl up on the floor and cry. Finally, I would be released from this hell.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16
Melody opened the door and shuffled to the couch with her head down. After her outburst yesterday, eye contact would be too embarrassing. When she sat on the couch, she glanced at the bookcase. All the books had been put back as if they had never been disturbed.
She stared at her hands folded in her lap. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up yesterday.
“Are you okay, Melody?”
Her fingers twitched, so she tightened her grip. No matter how much she wanted to pick a song, she couldn’t. Not without letting him know how embarrassed she was. She’d never thrown a book in her life, but she had been so angry.
Dr. Kane closed his laptop and stood. “I ask because you didn’t lock the door as you came in.” He strode to the door and turned the lock.
Today marked the first time, other than the first day, she didn’t want to be there. How could they get past her complete meltdown?
He sat and she saw him cross his legs out of the corner of her eye.
He clapped his hands together. “Let’s get started, shall we? Where’s your music player?”
The player was still in her pocket. She couldn’t bring it out. He’d expect her to play a song in response to his questions. She didn’t know where to start. They had opened too many wounds and she couldn’t stop the hurt.
“Ah, I get it. You’re having a little emotional backlash from yesterday.” He drummed the stylus against the tablet cover. “You got angry, threw things around, but nothing catastrophic happened. If you’re worried I might be angry because you threw my precious paperbacks around, I’m not. In fact, I consider your anger a sign we’re making progress, so I’m pleased.”
He wasn’t upset? Relief coursed through her. She leaned back against the couch and snuck a look at him.
“Well, since I don’t like talking to myself, I’ll have to carry your end of the conversation.” He raised his voice to mimic her. “Oh, Dr. Kane, thank you. You’re so wonderful to me.”
“Roger.” The whispered word barely escaped her lips. Her heart beat rapidly. She hadn’t meant to let
the word out.
He froze. “What?”
Oh, God. He’d heard her. What was she going to do?
He leaned forward and gazed into her eyes. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
She trembled but couldn’t look away.
Soft and tender, he kept his voice low. “Take a few slow breaths. You’re going to get through this.”
She couldn’t stop shaking. What had she done?
“This is just like the books. You got angry, you threw books around, and nothing bad happened.” He swept his arm toward the window. “The sun is still shining. No thunder and lightning—not a cloud in the sky. The roof didn’t fall in.”
Her shakes subsided.
“And we didn’t get an unannounced visit from your foster mother. Seriously, the biggest tragedy I can think of.” He leaned back.
She tried to hold back a smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched up anyway.
“I knew that’d get you.” He smirked. “Now, since you know nothing disastrous is going to happen, maybe you can give it another try. Say the same thing, but a little louder.”
The tremors flooded back. If she started talking, would she be able to stop? What happened if he got disgusted with her?
His blue eyes pierced hers. “Melody, you can do this. I have faith in you.”
She took a deep breath. “You said I could call you Roger.” Her voice gained strength with each word.
He gave her a cockeyed grin. “I did at that. But don’t you dare tell Mrs. Langdon or I’ll never hear the end of it.” He ruffled his hair and drew a breath imitating Mrs. Langdon’s wheeze. “‘Roger, I found this great pamphlet on how to get kids talking ... mebbe you should read it sometime.’” He crossed his eyes. “‘Roger, are you ever gonna get her talkin’? I mean that’s the point, ain’t it?’”
Melody stifled a snicker. He sounded just like her.
“Or my favorite ... ‘Roger, the librarian helped me find some books about how we’re gonna make this girl talk.’” He snorted. “I’ve been waiting for her to tell me gathering the bark of a eucalyptus tree at midnight, boiling it into a decoction along with eye of newt and wart of toad, is the best and most surefire way of making someone talk.”
The more ridiculous the statement, the more she relaxed.
“So now that we have the tough part out of the way, let’s dig in.” He ran a thumb along his jaw. “I want to go back to yesterday and talk about what made you so angry trashing my office was necessary.”
Heat rose in Melody’s cheeks. She wanted to forget her outburst, not dig into why she’d gotten angry to begin with.
“You’ve reacted strongly twice, now, to mentions of Quatie Raincrow, so I’m going to guess she has some significance in your life.”
Significant? Outside her parents, Quatie was the only one who loved her.
“You certainly didn’t like me saying she was too old to foster you.”
More than too old. He had put her in the same category as Mrs. Langdon. Quatie Raincrow was family. The words churned inside her, but she couldn’t get them out. She rocked, opening her mouth, but closing it again before speaking. Emotion choked her and closed her throat.
Roger placed a hand on her arm. “It’s all right. I don’t want you to push. The more uptight you are with trying to talk, the harder it becomes. Remember, when we started our journey together, I told you my job was to get you to relax to the point where you were comfortable talking.”
She wanted to, but speaking had made everything worse in the past. When she’d spoken about the man who had given her a weird feeling, Mama had died and Daddy had disappeared. When she’d told Quatie about the Jacksons, she died. When she’d spoken up about the snake to Grady Jackson, she had been sent to live with the Hatchets. And when she’d told Miss Prescott about Hatchet ...
She couldn’t risk it. The only good thing to come of speaking out was leaving Uncle Harlan’s house and living with Quatie Raincrow.
Mrs. Langdon annoyed her, but so far she hadn’t been hurt.
“Let’s try visualization to help you relax. I want you to close your eyes and rest your head against the couch back.”
Melody bit her lower lip, but then closed her eyes and rested her head.
“Oops. I forgot. I need your music player. We need one of your nature tracks for this.”
Without opening her eyes, Melody reached in her pocket and pulled the music player out. After he connected the player to the speakers, the sounds of a brook filled the room.
“Now, take a deep breath in and hold it for a count of five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... and exhale.”
He had her take ten slow, deep breaths. Her heart no longer raced.
“Let your imagination wander along the brook. See moss on the rocks, sunlight on the water as it gurgles past, and shadows cast by the leaves on the trees.”
The babbling brook sounds transported her to the brook running past Quatie Raincrow’s property. She and Quatie used to go for walks along the water’s edge and pick leaves or flowers to decorate the house with. Sometimes they gathered small branches or vines for creating a wreath. She had been happy there.
She imagined walking beside Quatie once again. Quatie dressed in a long skirt, with her worn outdoor boots, and the ever-present headscarf with her spectacles perched on her nose.
Tears wet Melody’s lashes. She saw Quatie so clearly, she didn’t want to move and break the spell. Something warm pressed against her hand. Almost like Quatie had taken it.
Then Quatie faced her and her eyes twinkled. “Atsila, you have more courage and strength than you think. Remember, only an open heart will catch a dream.”
Melody’s breath caught in her throat. It had been so long since she had heard Quatie’s voice. And it was so fitting for her to give Cherokee advice about catching a dream.
“It is time to break your silence and let your voice soar in song.”
The younger Melody in her vision answered. “But Quatie, what if I can’t? What if I’m not good enough?”
She smoothed the girl’s hair. “Child, you have been given a gift in your voice. The Grandfathers say you have kept silent for too long. Let it loose and they will bless you.”
“But what if I’m afraid?”
Quatie cupped young Melody’s face, but current-day Melody felt the soft leathery touch of Quatie’s calloused hands on her cheeks.
“Having fear is not a problem unless you let it stop you. Your mother named you Melody because you are the song of her heart. It is time you fulfill God’s destiny for you.”
Quatie smiled and the scenery wavered, and she faded.
“No. Don’t go.” Melody clapped a hand over her mouth and fought back the tears. Two escaped and rolled down her face.
Roger straightened in his chair. “What just happened?”
She pressed stop, cutting off the gurgling noise. How could she possibly tell him Quatie Raincrow had visited them? He’d think she had been hallucinating. He might want to give her drugs to stop her from doing it again. But she wanted Quatie to come back.
“All right. You’re not ready to share with me yet. We’ll go back to what has been working ... with a twist.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you ready?”
She barely dipped her chin in assent.
“We’ll use music like we’ve been doing where you play and sing the song, but then you’ll say a few words about the reason behind your selection.” He handed her the player. “I want you to tell me why Quatie Raincrow is so important to you.”
Melody bit her lip. She knew the right song, no question, but would “If Not For You” reveal more than she wanted? She was comfortable with Dr. Kane—Roger—but what if he expected her to start communicating with Mrs. Langdon? The thought of having a conversation with her current foster mother took her breath away.
She’d never be left in peace ever again. Mrs. Langdon would hound her with question after question trying to make her talk more. Was she ready to face what she ha
d lost when Quatie Raincrow had passed away? She glanced down at the screen on the music player. While thinking about whether she wanted to share, she had navigated to the song.
Her fingers had made up her mind. She pressed play.
Didn’t start out good
But turned out great
When I met you
God changed my fate
Sent me an angel
With the kindest eyes
To correct the past
Of heartbreak and cries
If not for you
Who would I be today
If not for you
Would not have found my way
If not for you
I wouldn’t be who I am
If not for you
Who would’ve gave a damn
The chorus made her choke up a bit. Where would she have been if it weren’t for Quatie taking her in and showing her love? She took a deep breath to steady herself to sing the next verse.
Can’t thank you enough
You made me whole
I was nothing but a scared
And broken soul
You put me on a path
To find my road
Taught me to fly
You were my path to gold
As she launched into the chorus again, Melody let the music flow through her and dedicated the song in her heart to Quatie. Too bad Quatie had passed away before this song was released. She would have enjoyed hearing Melody sing it around the house and they would have talked about the meaning behind the words.
My future is strong
On a rock I stand
Because you cared
And lent a hand
To someone lost
Thought so much of
Because of you
I believe in love
The vibrations on the final notes had completely stopped before Melody snuck a look at Roger.
Forefingers pressed against his lips, eyes closed, he had his head slightly bowed in an attitude of prayer. When he opened his eyes, he ran his hands through his curls. “You did an amazing job with the song. It obviously means a lot to you, so tell me why you connect it to Quatie Raincrow.”
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