Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  Her stomach tightened and her forehead prickled with sweat. How would she find the words to describe what Quatie meant to her? How would she say them? Picking songs and singing them was easy compared with putting her feelings into words.

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times but couldn’t get any words out.

  He held up a hand, palm facing her. “Don’t get agitated. Try singing the words instead of speaking them.”

  Relieved, she reached for the player to navigate to another song.

  “No, I don’t want you to sing something from your player. I want you to use your own words but sing them to me instead of speaking. Make your own song.”

  Melody nodded, gulping down her fear. Threading her fingers into her hair and bowing her head, she took a deep breath. She imagined the sound of Gregorian chants and brought Quatie Raincrow to mind. “She was the one who took me in when I was afraid and alone.” She hummed while thinking about what to say next. “I thought love had been taken from me forever. She loved me until I believed I had a family again.”

  Roger gave her a crooked smile. “You’re doing great. Keep it up.”

  “She taught me family was a matter of the heart and was not determined by blood.”

  Quatie’s face rose before her and smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  March 3, 2008 – Melody, age 9

  The darkness stretched around us for miles. Even though it wasn’t late, the pitch black made it feel like the middle of the night.

  Miss Prescott drove down the road, the blue-white light from the dashboard highlighting her frown lines.

  When I’d woken up in the school office after napping on the cot, Miss Prescott had been waiting for me. We faced each other across a card table. She’d given me a cup of water and asked me to go through what had happened the day before. At first, I hadn’t known what to say, but she’d waited and pretty soon I had told her the whole story. Her lips had tightened into a flat line when I got to the part where Uncle Harlan wanted me to prove my faith to God at church.

  When I’d finished, she said girls were not supposed to be locked up with poisonous snakes so I would be taken to another house to live until everything could be sorted out. I didn’t care, as long as they knew where to find me when Daddy came back. Not having to live with Uncle Harlan anymore made me happy.

  We had gathered my clothes from the house and stuffed them in garbage bags. We didn’t have any suitcases, so Miss Prescott said the bags would do the job. We pulled off the highway and passed the Welcome to Cherokee sign.

  Miss Prescott’s voice cut into my thoughts. “The only placement we could find for you on such short notice is on the reservation.”

  Living on the reservation wouldn’t be a bad thing. Daddy used to have business out here, and he’d bring me sometimes. I always had a good time.

  “The woman we’re placing you with is named Quatie Raincrow.”

  My stomach tightened. I wanted to be away from Uncle Harlan, but the thought of staying with a total stranger made me nervous. What if she didn’t like me? I hugged Raksha Waya tighter.

  “Her place is outside of town, so it’ll take a few minutes to get there.”

  I settled back in the seat. Not being in town was fine by me.

  After about ten minutes, Miss Prescott pulled onto a side road. Then five minutes later, we pulled off the paved road onto a gravel drive. The darkness, with the exception of the headlights, was complete.

  We rounded a curve and the beams lit up a house. The front of the house had a porch with wooden wheels hung on the railing as decoration. Miss Prescott pulled to a stop. The light turned on and the front door opened, followed by the creak of the screen door.

  A short woman with hunched shoulders waved from the porch. She wore a shawl across her shoulders and a bandana covered her head. She leaned forward as she peered through her glasses, then called out as Miss Prescott got out of the car.

  “Hello, Rebecca. I thought you’d be ‘long ‘bout now.”

  Miss Prescott strode up the steps and gave the woman a hug. “It’s good to see you again, Quatie. Thank you so much.”

  I slid out of the car, hugging Rakkie to my chest with a shiver. I wore a sweatshirt jacket, which had been fine while the sun was out, but now I wished I had my heavy jacket on.

  The woman beckoned me with the wave of her arm. “Come on, Melody. Let’s get you inside. Leave your stuff. We’ll get it once you’ve warmed up a bit.”

  I clung to Rakkie and made my way up the steps.

  The woman opened the door wide for Miss Prescott to pass through, then held it for me, smiling so big her eyes crinkled.

  When I crossed the threshold, the warmth thawed my nose. A fire crackled in the hearth and the reflection of the flames danced on the glass screen.

  “Why don’t you sit by the fire, Melody? I put a pot on for tea when you pulled up the drive.” She winked. “I thought you might need a bit of a warm-up.”

  Miss Prescott followed her out. “Let me help you, Quatie.”

  I sat on the edge of the sofa, closest to the fireplace. I smiled at the wooden fawn lying on the hearth. It reminded me of the one I had saved from the coyote. The carved fawn was so lifelike, it felt like it was looking at me.

  An inch at a time, I scooted back on the couch until my back touched the brown plaid pillow behind me. I couldn’t relax against it, no matter how much I wanted because I was still nervous. I was in a total stranger’s house, with no hope of going home.

  But at Uncle Harlan’s, I couldn’t relax unless I was alone. So I guess it didn’t make a difference.

  Tears sprang into my eyes, and I swallowed hard to keep a sob from escaping. I missed Mama and Daddy so much. I squeezed Raksha Waya, then kissed him on the nose. “You’ll never leave me, will you Rakkie?” Every time I thought about Daddy, my tummy got a pain and I couldn’t breathe right. When would he come back for me?

  I gazed around the room to keep from thinking about Daddy and Mama. The floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace had a poker and a bellows next to the screen along with a fireplace broom. A moose, a bear, a deer, and a log cabin were on the half-circle hearth rug. Across the room, a basket full of yarn sat next to an armchair with a half-finished project laid across the top. Brown, dark green, and maroon yarn mingled together. I couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, though. Definitely not a scarf or blanket.

  “Here we go.” She shuffled into the room carrying a tray with a teapot, three mugs, a pitcher, and a sugar bowl. She set the tray on the coffee table then straightened to her full height.

  Miss Prescott still towered above her.

  She waved her arm toward the couch. “Take a load off, Rebecca. I’ll pour.”

  Miss Prescott sat next to me and patted my leg.

  “Do you take milk and sugar in your tea, Melody?”

  I nodded.

  Miss Prescott tapped my arm. “Speak up, Melody.”

  The woman shook her head. “Don’t pressure her, Rebecca. She’s had a rough day from the sounds of it, and sometimes after a rough day, we need some quiet.”

  She brought me the mug of tea. I tucked Raksha Waya next to me, against the armrest, and took the warm cup from her. Once she gave Miss Prescott her cup, she went over and sat in the armchair.

  The first sip of the hot tea made my insides shudder. Its warmth spread through me, and my spine eased against the cushion.

  The woman took a sip of her tea, then set the cup on the end table. “I expect Rebecca told you my name, but I should have introduced myself anyway. I’m Quatie Raincrow, an’ you can call me Quatie or Ms. Raincrow. Or mos’ folks call me by both names for some reason.”

  Miss Prescott snorted. “Most folks are in awe of you, and they don’t want to offend you.”

  “Tchah.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Now, why would folks offend me by callin’ me by my name?”

  Miss Prescott set her cup on a coaster on the coffee table and smirked. “Maybe they’re af
raid you’re going to wither their crops or something a little more personal.”

  More personal? And how would she wither someone’s crops? I took another sip of tea.

  “Rebecca. You’re gonna confuse this child into thinkin’ I’m somethin’ I’m not.” She shook her finger at Miss Prescott. “And while we’re on the topic ... when are you gonna do what I’ve been tellin’ ya to?”

  Miss Prescott sputtered into her tea and her cheeks reddened. “I’ve been busy. My workload—”

  “Uh, uh, uh.” She wagged her finger. “No excuses. Your workload ain’t gonna keep you warm at night and fill you with delight.”

  Miss Prescott’s eyes opened wide. “Quatie.” She glanced at me. “Now is not the time for this discussion.”

  Ms. Raincrow gave her a stern look. “We wouldn’t have to discuss it at all if you’d mind what I tol’ you. An’ since you don’ come visit often, I have to take my opportunity as I see it.”

  “But my work—”

  “I know ... your workload. When are you going to understand you will only be truly fulfilled when you take some time for yourself?”

  Miss Prescott’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. I quietly snickered because she looked like a fish chasing bait.

  “Can’t I be fulfilled by my work?” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Someone has to be there for kids like Melody. They need help ... someone has to.”

  “Humph.” Quatie Raincrow raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you know you’d be better at your job—more compassionate—if you’d refresh once in a while?”

  Miss Prescott fell silent and drank some tea.

  “Come see me next week, Rebecca. We’ll have a little chat and get you back on track.”

  Crack.

  I jumped when the popping wood hit the fireplace screen. Thank goodness I had just finished my tea. Otherwise, I would have spilled it. Not the first impression I wanted to make.

  Quatie Raincrow stood. “Should we get your things, Melody? Let’s get you settled so you can make yourself to home.”

  The temperature had dropped while we had been inside, and the wind kicked up. I hurried to the car, grabbed a trash bag and hauled it inside as quickly as I could. After we had brought everything in, Quatie led the way to my new bedroom.

  The bed had a carved wooden headboard and matching carved chest at the foot. A colorful thick comforter and matching pillows covered the bed. The wooden nightstand had a wooden lamp with a blue Tiffany square shade.

  Miss Prescott opened the closet—empty and waiting for my things. She opened a bag and reached inside.

  Quatie Raincrow touched Miss Prescott’s shoulder. “Let’s leave putting things away until tomorrow. Melody and I will work on it together. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other a little better.”

  A look passed between the two I didn’t understand. This was so overwhelming. I liked this room much better than the room I’d had at Uncle Harlan’s, but it wasn’t home. Having my things here would be weird.

  Miss Prescott rested her hand on my shoulder. “Melody, I’ll have to get you registered for your new school before you can attend. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get that done tomorrow, so you’ll be able to start later this week. I’ll keep you posted.”

  I walked her to the door. She couldn’t stay, and she was as much a stranger as Quatie Raincrow, but I felt like she was abandoning me. She left with a spurt of gravel kicking out from the tires as she reversed.

  Quatie Raincrow joined me on the front porch and we watched the taillights disappear around the bend. After a moment, she placed her hand on my back. “We’d best get in the house before you freeze.”

  When she opened the door, the warmth greeting me caused a shiver to run down my spine. I hurried in, surprised I hadn’t felt the cold while watching Miss Prescott drive away. But once inside I didn’t know what to do.

  “Are you hungry, Melody?”

  I shook my head. Miss Prescott and I had stopped for something to eat on the way over.

  A twinkle sprang into her eyes. “How ’bout another cup of tea with a chocolate chip cookie?”

  I nodded.

  “Go back in by the fire. You don’t wanna leave your friend alone for too long.”

  I couldn’t believe I had forgotten Rakkie on the couch. I scooped him up and hugged him and sat in the corner of the couch closest to the fire. The flames danced in the hearth. Maybe if I sat and watched the fire long enough I’d forget all the bad stuff that had happened over the past two weeks. Maybe I’d wake up and find out this had all been a dream.

  Quatie Raincrow shuffled in with the tea tray. Once she set it on the coffee table, she put a plate with two cookies in front of me and fixed a mug of tea. Then she settled into her chair and picked up the yarn project from the basket.

  “I hope you don’ mind my doin’ a little knittin’. My slippers are ’bout to fall apart an’ mornings are too cold. So I thought I’d try my hand at knittin’ a pair.”

  The needles clicked as she wrapped yarn around them and slid them back and forth. Her hands flew through the motions, yet she didn’t watch them. She kept her gaze fixed on me.

  “That’s a mighty fine wolf you have there.”

  I took a bite of cookie and chewed slowly.

  “I remember when Rebecca came here ... she was about your age. She sat right where you are now and drank her tea and ate her cookie without talking, either. She sometimes forgets how hard it is to talk when your life has been turned upside down.”

  Miss Prescott had been in foster care with Quatie Raincrow? Then she was like me. Washing the cookie down with a sip of tea, I finally found my voice. “His name is Raksha Waya.”

  She nodded. “Such a good, strong name for a wolf.” She tilted her head. “I’ll bet he keeps you safe and stands guard while you sleep.”

  Relief washed through me. She understood about Rakkie and didn’t make fun of me for having a stuffed wolf like Jeb and Samuel did. I leaned against the pillow and finally relaxed. My eyes closed. A wave of tired overwhelmed me.

  “Melody?”

  My eyes flew open.

  “Would you like to go to bed? I’m sure you’re tired after your long day. You don’t have to stay up to keep me company.”

  I nodded.

  She put her knitting aside and before I knew it, she had tucked me into my new bed. She smoothed my hair from my face. “We’ll have a chance to get to know each other better tomorrow. I’m so glad you came to stay with me, Melody. Dream sweet, child.”

  At the door, she stopped and turned toward me. “Do you want me to leave the door open a crack?”

  I must have answered because she left it cracked open, but I don’t remember nodding before I fell asleep.

  A scream tore at my throat and woke me up. The snake. It came at my face, jaw wide and fangs long and sharp. Its yellow eyes glowed as it attacked. My heart raced as I sat bolt upright. I squeezed Rakkie and gasped for breath. And as I realized it was a dream, the tears started. A nightmare about Mama’s death. Would God hear my prayers at Quatie Raincrow’s house?

  I couldn’t stop the sobs that shook my whole body.

  The door swung open. “What’s wrong, Melody?”

  Quatie Raincrow offered me a tissue and sat on the edge of the bed.

  I clutched the blankets and drew them under my chin as I sat up. “I had a nightmare. And I miss Mama and Daddy so much it hurts.”

  She gathered me into a hug and stroked my hair. “I know, sweetheart. And if you need to cry, you go ahead and do it. As my mama always used to say, ‘The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears.’”

  I didn’t know why, but the thought comforted me.

  The wind howled and the roof creaked as if it might tear off. My head jerked up and I stared at the ceiling. Such a lonely sound.

  “If you listen hard enough, you can sometimes hear voices of those who have passed in the breeze, whispering their love.”

  I closed
my eyes and listened with all my might. Anything to hear Mama speak to me again. The wind did sound like it carried voices with it, but I couldn’t make out what they said.

  Quatie Raincrow hummed a tune I didn’t recognize, but it helped get my tears under control. After I had calmed down, she brought me a drink of water and stayed until I fell asleep again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  March 16, 2008 – Melody, age 9

  Frantic squawking and flapping noises came through the screen door. I jumped up from the kitchen table where I had been doing my homework and dashed outside. Two feathers floated down to the rain-soaked ground.

  Quatie joined me on the porch and placed her hands on her hips. “Somethin’s been in the chicken coop.”

  I ran to the coop and peered through the wire. One of Quatie’s hens lay on the ground, wings stretched at an odd angle, blood dappling the breast feathers. My breath caught in my throat. Poor chicken.

  Quatie held her hand in the air, index finger outstretched, silently counting. “The bugger got a chick and took off with it.” She stepped back and surveyed the coop. Her foot touched a wire near the door. “That’s how it got in, the little devil. I’ll call Thomas and have him bring something to patch this up.”

  “But the wire is only bent a little. How’d the chicken disappear?”

  Quatie frowned. “It took one of the chicks, so it weren’t fully grown. It’s been eaten by now.”

  Oh no. Not a baby. “But that’s so sad.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “That what took it is tryin’ to survive. Just like the rest of us.”

  But it ate a baby. A fuzzy little chick with its feathers coming in.

  “Why don’t you keep an eye on the coop and build a bonfire while I go make some calls.”

  A glance at the ground, which was still wet from the storm the night before, told me I’d have to search for dry tinder to get the bonfire started. The light smoky scent in the air meant one of Quatie’s neighbors had started a fire. If they could do it, so could I.

  I’d use the wood under the tarp because at least it would be dry. A few of the trees closest to the clearing had enough dry leaves and needles to use. I gathered them and laid them on the paving stones Quatie had for bonfires.