Casteel 1 - Heaven (19 page)

It snowed for three days without letup.

Then suddenly, dramatically, the sun broke out from behind clouds. The bright light pouring in almost blinded us when Tom threw open the front door to stare out.

“It's over,” Grandpa murmured weakly. “That's t'way of our Lord, t'save his own jus when we think we kin't live on another hour.”

How were we saved? Not saved at all by sunlight, only warmed a bit. I turned again to the old chipped and rickety cabinet that held our pitiful store of food. Again, nothing to eat but a few of the nuts harvested in the fall.

“But I like nuts,” Tom said cheerfully, setting down to munching on his two. “And when the snow has melted enough, we can put on our warmest clothes and escape. Wouldn't it be nice to head west, into the sun? End up in California, living on dates and oranges, drinking coconut milk. Sleeping on the golden grass, staring up at the golden mountains . . .”

“Do they have golden streets in Hollywood?” asked Fanny.

“Spect everything is golden in Hollywood,” mused Tom, still standing and looking outside. “Or else silver.”

Grandpa said nothing.

We lived in capricious country. Spring could come as quickly as a lightning bolt and do just as much damage. Springlike days would warm up the earth in December, January, and February, trick the

flowers into blooming ahead of time, fool the trees into leafing out; then winter would come back and freeze the flowers, kill off the new baby leaves, and when real spring came, those flowers and trees wouldn't repeat their performances since they'd been deceived once, wouldn't be deceived again, or at least not this season.

Now the sun turned the mounds of heaped snow into slushy mush that soon melted and flooded the streams, causing bridges to be swept away. . . and trails were lost in the woods. There was no way to escape now that the bridge was gone. Exhausted and exceedingly tired from his long quest to find a way out, Tom came home to report the loss of the nearest bridge.

“The current's running fast and strong, or else we could swim across. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

I put down Jane Eyre, which I was reading again, and drifted over to stand beside Tom, both of us silent until Fanny ran to join us. “Let's swear a solemn vow now,” Tom whispered so Grandpa wouldn't hear, "to run the first chance we get. To stay together through thick and thin, one for all and all for one . . . Heavenly, we've said this to each other before.

Now we have to add Fanny. Fanny, put your hand on top of mine. But first cross your heart and hope to die if ever you let us be split apart."

Fanny seemed to hesitate, and then with rare sisterly camaraderie her hand covered mine, which rested on top of Tom's. “We do solemnly swear. .”

“We do solemnly swear . .” repeated Fanny and I. “To always stay together, to care for one another through joys and suffering . .”

Again Fanny hesitated. “Why do ya have t'mention sufferin? Yer makin this sound like a weddin, Tom.”

“All right, through thick and thin, through good and bad, until we have Our Jane and Keith with us againis that good enough for you two?”

“It's fine, Tom,” I said as I repeated his vows.

Even Fanny was impressed, and more like a real sister than she'd ever been as she snuggled up beside me, and we talked about our futures out in the big world we knew nothing about. Fanny even helped Tom and me search the woods for berries as we waited for the swollen river to go down and the bridge to be restored.

“Hey,” Tom said suddenly, hours later, "just re- membered. There's another bridge twenty miles away,

and we can reach it if we're determined enough. Heavenly, if we all have to hike twenty miles or more, we're gonna need more than one hazelnut apiece, I can tell ya that right now."

“Think we can make it on two nuts apiece?” asked I, who'd been holding back just for an emergency like this.

“Why, with all that energy, we could probably walk to Florida,” Tom said with a laugh, “which might almost be as good as California.”

We dressed in our best, put on everything we owned. I tried not to think of leaving Grandpa all alone. Fanny was eager to escape a cabin where only sadness and old age and hopelessness had come to stay. Guiltily, with reluctant determination, we kissed Grandpa good-​bye. He stood up feebly, smiled at us, nodding as if life never held any surprises for him.

In my hand I held my mother's suitcase that finally Fanny had seen, though her excitement had been lessened by the knowledge we were leaving . . . for somewhere.

“Good-​bye,” called all three of us in unison, but I hung back when Tom and Fanny raced outside. “Grandpa,” I said in an embarrassed voice, really hurting inside, "I'm sorry to be doing this to you. I

know it's not right to leave you alone, but we have to do it or be sold like Keith and Our Jane. Please understand."

He looked straight ahead, one hand holding a knife, the other his bit of wood to shave, his thin hair trembling in the drafts. “We'll come back one day when we're grown-​up and too old for Pa to sell.”

“It's all right, chile,” whispered Grandpa, his head bowed low so-​L couldn't see his tears. “Ya jus take kerr.”

“I love you, Grandpa. Maybe I've never said that before, don't know why now that I didn't, cause I always have.”

I stepped closer to hug and kiss him. He smelled old, sour, and felt brittle in my arms. “We wouldn't leave you if there was any other way, but we have to go to try and find a better place.” Again he smiled through tears, nodded as if he believed, and sat again to rock. “Luke will come back soon with food so don't ya worry none. Forgive me for saying nasty things I didn't mean.”

“What nasty things did ya say?” bellowed a rough voice from the open doorway.

Too Many

Farewells . PA TOWERED IN THE OPEN DOORWAY,

GLOWERING AT US. He was wearing a thick red jacket that reached his hips. Brand-​new. His boots were better than any I'd ever seen him wear, as were his pants; his hat had a furry band across the top that ended in earmuffs. With him he had more boxes of food. “I'm back,” he said casually, as if he'd just left yesterday. “Brought food with me.” And then he turned to leave, or so I thought.

Trip after trip he made to his truck to bring things in. What was the use of our trying to run now, when his long legs could catch up and swiftly bring us back againif he didn't chase us in his truck?

More than anything, now Fanny didn't want to escape. “Pa!” she cried, happy and excited, dancing around him and trying to find a way to hug and kiss him before he had all the supplies in from the truck.

Many times she tried to throw herself into his arms, and then succeeded. "Oh, Pa! Ya've come to save us ain! Knew ya would, knew ya loved me! Now we don't have t'run away! We were hungry an cold an

goin t'find food or steal it, an waitin fer t'snow t'melt an t'bridges few back, an I'm so durn happy we don't have t'do none of that!"

“Runnin away t'find food, huh?” asked Pa with his lips tight, his eyes narrow. “Can't run nowhere I can't find ya. Now sit and eat, an get ready for the company that's comin.”

It was going to happen again!

Fanny's face lit up as if an electric switch had been pushed. “Oh, Pa, it's me this time, ain't it? Ain't it? Jus let it be me!”

“Get yourself ready, Fanny,” Pa ordered as he fell into a chair and almost tipped it over backward. “Found ya a new ma and pa, jus like ya asked me t'do, an as rich as t'ones who took Jane and Keith.”

This information made her squeal in delight. She hurried to heat a pot of water on the stove. While that was warming she pulled out the old aluminum basin we all used for a bathtub. “Oh, I need betta clothes!” Fanny bewailed as the water began to boil. “Heaven, kin't ya do somethin with a dress of yours, so it'll look good on me?”

“I'm not doing anything to help you leave,” I said, my voice so cold it chilled my throat, while I felt hot tears in my eyes. Fanny cared so little about

leaving us and breaking her vow. “Tom, run fetch me more water,” she called in

her sweetest voice, “enough t'fill up t'tub an rinse my hair!” And Tom obeyed, though reluctantly.

Maybe Pa read my thoughts. He glanced my way, caught my full hard glare, and perhaps saw for the first time why he hated me, who was so different from his angel. You bet I was different. I would have had better sense than to fall for an ignorant mountain man who lived in a shack and ran bootleg moonshine. He seemed to read my mind as his lips pulled back in a sneer that showed one side of his upper teeth so he no longer looked handsome.

“Yer gonna do something now, little gal? Go on. Do it. I'm waiting.”

Unconsciously I'd picked up the poker again.

Tom came in, quickly set down the pail of water, then sprang forward to keep me from using the poker. “He'll kill you if you do,” he whispered urgently, pulling me back from harm's way.

“Got ya a real champion, haven't ya?” Pa asked, looking at Tom with scorn. Casually he stood up, yawned, as if nothing at all had happened to make either one of us hate him. "They'll be coming any minute. Hurry up there, Fanny girl. Ya'll soon know

just how much yer pa loves ya when ya see who's gonna take ya in and treat ya betta than gold."

Hardly were the words out of his mouth when a car pulled into our dirt yard. Only this was not a strange car, it was a car we knew very well, having seen it many times on the streets of Winnerrow. It was a long, black, shiny Cadillac that belonged to the wealthiest man in Winnerrow, the Reverend Wayland Wise.

At last, at last! Miss Deale had found a way to save us!

Squealing more, Fanny hu!!ed her arms over her small breasts and shot me a smug, delighted look. “ME! They want ME!”

In a moment she was dressed in what used to be my best.

Pa flung open the door and cordially invited inside the Reverend and his thin-​faced wife, who didn't smile, didn't speak, only looked sour and unhappy. She didn't stare at what must have been a shock to someone so . e uent, but then I reckoned she must have expected to see such living conditions. As for the handsome Reverend, he didn't waste one moment.

I was wrong to have presumed that Miss Deale

had sent him to save us, much less that God was going to work one of his miracles. Fanny knew much more about reality than I. God's man already knew which one of Pa's remaining three he wanted, though, when the Reverend looked us over up close, his eyes lingered long and lusting on me.

I backed away, terribly frightened by the holy man. I shot an angry glance at Pa, to see him shaking his head, as if he didn't want me living too near his home.

Confirmed when Pa said: “My eldest is a troublemaker, quick to answer back, stubborn, hardheaded, and mean, Reverend Wise, Mrs. Wise. Take my word for it, this younger girl, Fanny, is far the better choice. Fanny is easygoin, beautiful, and sweet. Why, I call her my dove, my doe, my lovely, lovin Fanny.”

What a lie! He never called any of us by pet names.

This time there would be no caterwauling, no fighting, no holding back. Fanny couldn't have been happier. Her smile was dazzling she was so happy. The Reverend handed out boxes of chocolate candy to all three of us, and also gave Fanny a beautiful red coat just her size, with a black fur collar. Fanny was

won over. That's - all it took! She didn't even wait to hear about the beautiful

room of her own they said they'd have decorated to suit her fancy, or other things they planned to give her, like dancing and music lessons.

“I'll be what ya want!” cried Fanny, her dark eyes shining. “Be anythin ya want! I'm ready, willin, eager t'go! An thank ya fer comin, fer wantin me, thank ya, thank ya.”

Fanny ran and threw her arms about the Reverend. “Blessed are yablessed am I! Two million times I say, thank ya! I'll never be hungry or cold again. Already I love ya, I do, I dofer choosin me an not Heaven.”

Fanny! Fanny! I silently screamed. Have you forgotten already our pledge to stick together through thick and thin? God didn't plan it this way, for families to be split and given one to this person and one to that.

Fanny, you've been like my own. “Ya see, ya see,” Pa exclaimed proudly. “Best choice, this one. A lovin, sweet girl ya'll never be ashamed of.”

He threw me another of those sneering looks as I stared straight ahead, ashamed of Fanny, fearful for Fanny. What did a thirteen-​year-​old know about any-

thing? Tom stood beside me, holding my hand, his face pale, his eyes dark with his own frightened pain.

Five little Indians we were playing. All disappearing one by one. Two left. Who'd it be next time, Tom or me? “I'm sure proud they chose me,” Fanny

pronounced happily again as if she couldn't get over the wonder of it. When she was wearing her new red coat, she whispered in a breathless, touching way, “I'm gonna live in a big rich house, an ya kin come t'see me.” She sniffled once or twice, enough to show at least a little regret, before she threw several beseeching looks at me and Tom. Then she picked up her two-​pound box of chocolates and smiled before she turned and led the way out to the big car. “See ya in town,” she called without looking back, not even at Pa.

Paperwork finished, the Reverend paid his five hundred in cash, accepted Pa's carefully written receipt, and turned to follow Fanny, with his wife a step or two behind him. And, like a true gentleman, the Reverend helped both Fanny and his wife into his car. All sat on the front seat, Fanny in the middle.

Bang! went the heavy car door. The sharp pain came again, not as bad as it had

been for Our Jane and Keith. Fanny wanted to leave, and hadn't screamed and howled and kicked her legs and flailed her armsthe little ones had wanted to stay. Who could say which decision was right?

And Fanny was only going to Winnerrow. Our Jane and Keith were way off in Maryland, and Tom could remember only three of the license-​plate numbers.

Would that be enough to lead us to them . . someday?

Now it was my time to miss Fanny, my tormentor, my now-​and-​then friend and sister. Fanny, also my shame when I was in school and heard her giggles coming from the cloakroom. Fanny with her sex ready, her uninhibited inheritance from the hills.

This time Pa didn't go after Fanny left. As if the information Fanny gushed when first he came in had put him on guard, and he'd not leave to find Tom and me gone when he came back again. Both Tom and I were anxious to see him go so we could escape before we too were sold. We waited without speaking, sitting side by side on the floor not far from the stove. We sat so close I felt his heat, as he must have felt mine. I heard his hard breathing, as surely he heard mine.

In no way was Pa going to give us a chance to

run. He ensconced himself in a hard chair on the other side of the stove, tipping it backward before he half lowered his lids, and seemed to be waiting. I tried to convince myself days would pass before someone else came. Time for us to escape. Plenty of time . . .

No such luck.

A muddy maroon-​colored pickup truck just as old and beat up as Pa's pulled to an abrupt stop in our yard, putting panic in my heart that was echoed in Tom's eyes. He reached again for my hand, squeezed it hard, as we both backed to the wall. Fanny'd only been gone two hours, and here was another buyer.

Footfalls on the porch steps. Heavy feet crossing the porch. Three loud raps, then another three. Pa's eyes opened; he jumped up, sprang to the door, threw it open. Now we could see a burly, short man who stepped inside, looked over the cabin with a frown on his grizzly bearded face. He saw Tom, who was already a head taller than he was.

“Don't cry, Heavenly, please don't,” pleaded

Tom.

“I won't be able t'stand it if you do.” He squeezed my fingers again, touched my tears with his free hand, then lightly kissed me. "Ain't nothin we kin do, is there? Not when people like Reverend Wise and

his wife don't see nothin' wrong in buyin kids. It's been done before, ya know it and I know it. Ain't gonna be t'last time it happens either, ya know that."

I threw myself into his arms, held tight. I was not going to cry, not going to let it hurt so bad this time. Best thing to do, really it was. Nobody could be more heartless than Pa, nobody more shiftless and rotten. Everybody sure would be better off. Sure we would. Nicer houses, more and better food to eat. Sure was going to be wonderful to know we were all eating three meals a day like everybody else in this free land called the United States.

That's when I broke and began to bawl. “Tom., run! Do something!” Pa moved to block any chance of Tom's

escaping, though he didn't try. We had only one door, and the windows were too high and too small.

Pa didn't see my tears, refused to see the anguish on Tom's face before he hurried over to shake the hand of the burly man wearing worn, dirty overalls. His face was heavyset, what could be seen of it. His dense grizzly beard hid everything but his bulbous nose and his small, squinty eyes. His thick salt-​and-​pepper hair made his head seem to sit atop his broad shoulders without a neck; then came his

bulging chest, his huge, swollen beer bellyall half concealed beneath those loose-​fitting overalls.

“I come t'git him,” he said without preliminaries, looking straight at Tom, not even glancing at me. He was about three feet away, and between him and us was Pa. “If he's what ya said he is, that is.”

“Take a look at him,” said Pa, not smiling this time. He was all business with this farmer. “Tom is fourteen years old and already he's almost six feet tall. Look at those shoulders, those hands and feet; that's how you judge what kind of man a boy's gonna make. Feel his muscles, made strong from swinging an ax, and he can pitch hay as good as any full-​grown man.”

Sick, it was cruel and sick, treating Tom like a prize calf to be sold.

That farmer with the red face yanked Tom closer, held him as he looked into Tom's mouth, checked over his teeth, felt his muscles, his thighs and calves, asked him intimate questions about elimination problems, if he had any. Other embarrassing questions that Pa answered when Tom refused to reply. As if Pa could possibly know, or even care, whether or not Tom had headaches or early-​morning lusts.

“He's a healthy boy, he must be sexually aware. I was at his age, eager and ready to do my damndest fer the girls.”

What did he want with Tom anyway, stud services?

The burly_ farmer stated his occupation; he was a dairy farmer named Buck Henry. Needed help, he did. Needed someone young and strong and eager to earn good wages. “Don't want nobody weak, shiftless, or lazy, or unable to take orders.”

Pa took umbrage at that. “Why, my Tom has never had a lazy day in his life.” He looked proudly at Tom, while Tom scowled and seemed miserable, and tried to stay at my side.

“Good, strong-​looking boy,” Buck Henry said with approval. He handed Pa the five hundred in cash, signed the papers Pa had ready, accepted his receipt, seized Tom by the arm, pulled him toward the door. Tom tried to drag his feet, but Pa was behind him shoving him on, and kicking his shins when he moved too slowly. Grandpa rocked on and on, whittling.

At the door Tom broke. “I don't want to go!” he yelled, fighting to free himself.

Pa moved quickly to position himself directly behind me; though I tried to escape, I moved too late.

Pa caught me by my hair. His large hands moved downward to rest lightly on my shoulders, his fingers spread in such a way all he had to do was move them slightly and he'd have a choking grip on my neck and throat.

It seemed to chill Tom to see me held like a chicken about to have its neck wrung.

“Pa!” he yelled. “Don't you hurt her! If you sell Heavenly like the rest of usyou find her the best parents! If you don't I'll come back one day and make you regret you ever had a child!” His wild eyes met mine. “I'll come back, Heavenly!” he cried. “I promise I won't forget our pledge. I love what you've tried to do for me, and for all of us. I'll write often, keep you so much in touch you won't even miss meand I'll get to you wherever you are! I make this solemn vow never to be broken.”