Casteel 1 - Heaven (40 page)

“Why are you yelling at me? I didn't sell you! I'm terribly sorry that you've sufferedbut damned if I can see that you have! You look terrific, wearing expensive, beautiful clothes, like a debutante, and you come and tell me you've been sold and treated like a slave. If all slaves end up looking like beauty queens, maybe all girls should be sold into slavery.”

“What an insensitive remark to make, Logan Stonewall!” I snapped, feeling as mean as Kitty at her worst. “I used to think you were so kind and understanding! Just because you can't see my scars doesn't mean I don't have them!” Now I was crying,

my words breaking. And only a few minutes ago he had been so sweet. Unable to say more, and angry at myself for always losing my control and breaking into childish tears, I turned away again.

“Heaven . . . don't turn away. I'm sorry. Forgive me for being insensitive. Give me another chance. We'll talk it out, like we used to do.”

For his own good, I should run off and never see him again, and yet I couldn't let go of a boy I'd loved from the moment I'd first seen him. And with differences forgotten for the moment, side by side we walked until we came to the fine house of Reverend Wayland Wise.

He held my hand as I stared at the parsonage.

A pure white house, a pious house, a grand house, surrounded by two acres of beautiful flower gardens and manicured lawns. This house made Kitty's home in Candlewick seem a shack. I sighed. Sighed again for Fanny, who was now a young lady of sixteen and four months, and Tom, like me, was seventeen, and Keith would soon be twelve, Our Jane eleven. Oh, to see them again, to know they were healthy, happy.

But first Fanny. Now that I was here, I could only stand and

stare at the grandest house in all of Winnerrow. Corinthian columns lined the long porch. The steps up were made of intricately laid red bricks. Red geraniums and red petunias grew in huge terra-​cotta planters. On the porch were sturdy-​looking white wicker chairs with high fancy peacock backs.

In the huge old trees birds were chirping; a yellow canary in a white wicker cage hung from the porch ceiling began its cheerful song. It startled me to hear that singing from such a high place; the bird had been put there, I guessed, to keep it safe from cats and drafts. All her life Fanny had wanted a canary in a white cage; now she had one.

But for the singing of the birds, there were no other noises.

How silent this great house that gave no hint of its inhabitants.

How was it that such a lovely house could appear so threatening?

Found

Casteels . SEVERAL TIMES I JABBED AT THAT

DOORBELL. As I STOOD and waited for what seemed an eternity, I grew more than impatient. Every so often I looked to see if Logan had gone away as I hoped he would, but he hadn't. He leaned against a tree, smiling when I glanced his way.

Faint footsteps sounded inside the house. I stiffened and listened more closely. Slow, sneaky steps . . . then the heavy oak door opened just a wee slot. Dark sloe eyes peered out at me, glittering narrowed eyes that appeared suspicious, unfriendly. Only Fanny had almost black eyes like that, only Fannyand Pa. “Go way,” said the voice that was undeniably Fanny's.

“It's meHeaven,” I called excitedly. “I've come to see you, to find out how you are. You can't send me away.”

“Go way,” Fanny whispered more insistently. "Kin do what I want. An I don't wanna see ya! Don't know ya anymore! Don't need ya anymore! I'm Louisa Wise now. I've got everythin I eva wanted. An I don't

want ya comin round t'mess it up." She could still sting me with her mean, selfish

words and ways. Always I'd believed that, underneath all her hostility and jealousy, Fanny loved me. Life had warped her in ways different than it had me.

“Fanny, I'm your sister,” I pleaded in a low voice, ashamed Logan would overhear her “welcome.” “I need to talk to you, to see you, and know if you've heard anything about Keith and Our Jane.”

“Don't know nothin,” whispered Fanny, opening the door a bit wider. “Don't wanna know nothin. Jus go way, leave me alone.”

I could see my younger sister had grown into a very pretty girl with long black hair and a figure shapely enough to break many a man's heart. That Fanny would break many hearts without remorse had always been my expectation. Still, I was hurt that Fanny would refuse to let me enter the house, and showed no interest at all in how I'd been, or where I'd been.

“Have you seen Tom?” “Don't wanna see Tom.” I winced, again stung. "I wrote you time and

time again, Fanny Casteel! Didn't you receive my

letters?“ I demanded, forcefully holding the door open so she couldn't slam it in my face. ”Damn you, Fanny! What kind of person are you anyway? When people are kind and thoughtful enough to write letters, the least you can do is answerunless you just don't give a damn!"

“Guess ya got t'picture,” snapped Fanny in

reply.

“Now, you wait a minute, Fanny! You can't slam the door in my face! I'm not going to let you!”

“Ya neva wrote me, not once!” she cried, then turned to look over her shoulder with alarm. Her voice lowered to a whisper again. “Ya gotta go, Heaven.” Urgency was in her eyes, a look of fright. “They're upstairs sleepin. The Reverend an his wife hate t'be reminded of who I am. They've done warned me not t'eva talk t'ya, or any otha Casteel. Neva have heard from Pa since I came.” She wiped at a tear that came to the corner of one eye and slid like a dewdrop on her cheek. “I used t'think Pa loved me best; seems he don't.” Another tear formed that she didn't wipe away. “Glad ya look good.” Her eyes swept over my face before her full red lips thinned a bit.

"Gotta go now. Don't want em t'wake up an scold me fer talkin t'ya. Ya jus take yerself out of

here, Heaven Leighdon't wanna know ya; wish I'd never known ya; kin't remember nothin good about ya an those ole days when we were younguns in t'hills. Only rememba stinks an hunger, an cold feet, an neva enough of anythin."

Quickly I thrust my foot in the door when Fanny would have slammed it shut with more force than my hands alone could resist. “You wait a minute, Fanny Louisa Casteel! I've thought about you night and day for more than two long yearsyou can't tell me to go away! I want to know how you've been, if you've been treated fairly. I care about you, Fanny, even if you don't care about me. I remember the good times 'when we lived in the hills, and try to forget all the bad. I remember when we used to snuggle up together to keep warm, and I love you, even if you always were a damned pain in the neck.”

“Ya get off this porch,” sobbed Fanny, crying openly now. “Kin't do nothin fer ya, kin't.”

She brutally kicked my foot out of the way and slammed the door. The inside lock was turned, and I stood alone on the porch.

Almost blind with tears, I stumbled down the steps, and Logan was there, sweeping me into his arms and trying to comfort me. "Damn her for talking

like that to youdamn her!" I yanked away, hurting so much from Fanny's

indifference I could hardly keep from screaming. What good did it do to dole out so much love to people who turned against you the moment they no longer needed you?

What did I care if I'd lost Fanny? She'd never been a loving sister anyway . . . why did I hurt so much? “Go away, Logan!” I yelled, swinging my fists at him when he tried to embrace me again. “I don't need youdon't need anybody!”

I turned from him, but he seized me by my arm and swung me around so his strong arms drew me against him. “Heaven!” he cried. “What's wrong? What have I done?”

“Let me go,” I pleaded weakly.

“Now, look,” he urgently pleaded, "you're taking out your anger on me when it's Fanny who hurt you. She's always been a hateful sisterhasn't she? I guess I knew all the way here she'd act like she did. I'm sorry you're so hurt, but do you have to turn on me? I wanted to hang around and be here when you needed me. Need me, Heaven! Don't slap out at me! I haven't done anything but admire, respect, and love you. I could never really believe your pa would sell

his kids. I guess I do now. Forgive me for not fully believing until today."

I yanked away. “You mean in all this time you haven't talked to Fanny about me?”

“I've tried many a time to talk to her about you . but you know how Fanny is. She takes everything and turns it around until she makes herself believe it's her I want to hear about, and not you. Fanny doesn't care about anyone but herself.” He blushed and stared down at his feet. “I've found out it's better to leave Fanny alone.”

“She still comes on strong, right?” I asked bitterly, guessing that Fanny must have been her usual aggressive self with him. . . and I wondered if he'd fallen, like all the others.

“Yeah,” he said, raising his eyes. “Takes a lot of resisting to hold Fanny off . . . and the best way to do that is to stay miles away.”

“From temptation?”

“Stop! I do what I can to keep girls like Fanny out of my life. Since you went away, I keep hoping someday a girl named Heaven will be the one to really love me. Somebody sweet and innocent; somebody who knows how to care and how to give. Somebody I can respect. How can I respect anyone like Fanny?”

now?

Oh, God help me! How could he respect me . . .

We walked away from Reverend Wise's home and didn't even glance back. Obviously Fanny had adjusted well to her new life.

“Logan, now Fanny's ashamed of her old family,” I said with tears in my voice. “I thought she'd be glad to see me. There were times when she and I did nothing but fight, but we're blood kin, and I love her just the same.”

Again he tried to hold me, to kiss me. I held him off and turned my face aside.

“Do you happen to know where my grandfather is?” I asked in a small voice.

“Sure I know. I visit him from time to time so I can talk to him about you, and often I help sell his whittled animals. He's good, you know, really an artist with that knife of his. And he's expecting you. His eyes lit up when I told him you were coming. He said he was going to take a bath, wash his hair, and put on clean clothes.”

Again my throat constricted . . . Grandpa was going to take a bath without urging? On his own going to wash his hair and change his clothes?

“Have you seen or heard from Miss Deale?”

“She isn't here anymore,” he said, keeping my hand tightly in his. “She left before you did, remember? Nobody's heard from her since. I go by our old school every once in a while, just for old times' sake, and sit on a swing and remember how it used to be. Like I said before, I've even been up to your cabin, and walked in your empty rooms”

“Oh, why did you do that!” I cried, so ashamed.

“I went there to understand, and I think I do. To think that someone as smart and beautiful as you could come from such as that cabin, and Tom as well, fills me with awe, and so much respect. I don't know if I could have come out of that with all your courage, and all your drive, and when I see Tom”

“You've seen Tom? When?” I asked eagerly.

“Sure, and soon you'll see him too.” He smiled sadly when he saw my expression. “Don't cry. He's fine, and quite a guy, Heaven. You just wait and see.”

We were approaching Martin's Road, which was one of the lesser, poorer areas, about twelve blocks from where Fanny lived in the grandest house of all. “Mrs. Sally Trench runs a nursing home, and she's the one who takes care of your grandpa. I've heard that your father sends money once a month to pay for his stay there.”

“I don't care what my father does.” But it surprised me to know he could be that caring . . . sending money to support an old man he'd seldom noticed.

“Of course you care about your father, but you won't admit it. Maybe he did take the wrong road out, but you're alive and well. Fanny seems happy enough to me, and so does Tom. And when you find Keith and Our Jane, no doubt you'll be amazed at how well they both are. Heaven, you've got to learn to expect the best, not the worst; that's the only way you'll give yourself a chance to be happy instead of miserable.”

My heart felt heavy, my soul wounded, as I glanced his way. Once I'd believed that kind of philosophy . . . now I didn't. I had tried his way of thinking with Kitty and Cal, doing my best to please both of them, and fate had tricked me, maybe tricked all of us. How could I restore the trusting innocence I'd lost? How could I turn back the clock and this time say no to Cal?

"Heaven . . . I'm never going to love anyone as much as I love you! I know we're both young and inexperienced and the world is full of others who might attract us later on, but right this minute you've got my heart in your hand, and you can throw it down,

step on it, and crush it. Don't do that to me." I couldn't speak, made dumb from all the guilt I

felt, all the shame of not being the girl he thought I was.

“Please, look at me. I need you to love me, and now you don't let me touch you, hold you. Heaven, we're not kids anymore. We're old enough now to feel adult emotionsand share adult pleasures.”

Another man who wanted to take from me!

“My family gives me lots to worry about. I wonder how I managed to grow at all,” I managed to say.

“Seems to me you did a super job of growing and shaping up.” His tentative, troubled smile faded as his eyes went serious, and for a moment I thought I saw in those stormy bliie eyes all the devotion and love an ocean could hold. For me, for me! An eternity of love, caring, and faithfulness. A deep throb stabbed me and made me feel for a moment there was hope, when there couldn't be, not ever.

“What's the matter?” he asked when I began to stride onward at a faster pace. “Have I said something wrong? Again? Remember the day we pledged our- selves to each other?”

I remembered just as much as he did that

wonderful day when we'd lain by the river and made our childish vows to love each other forever. Now I knew nothing lasted forever.

Then it had been easy to make pledges, thinking neither he nor I would or could ever change. Now everything had changed. I wasn't worthy of him anymore, if ever I had been. Funny how being a hill scumbag wasn't nearly as humiliating as being what I was since first I had allowed Cal to touch me, just another trampy girl who'd allowed herself to be used by a man.

“I guess you've never had any girlfriend but me?” Bitterness was in my voice that he didn't seem to notice.

“Just dates, casual dates.”

We'd reached Martin's Road. And there on the corner was a huge monster of a house, painted a sickly sea-​foam green, like froth on the sea, like Kitty's eyes.

The yard about the house was wide, mowed to perfection. It was hard to picture Grandpa shut up in such a big house as that. Every last one of the old rockers on the porch was empty. Why wasn't Grandpa on that grand front porch, whittling?

“If you want, I'll wait out here while you visit with him,” Logan said thoughtfully.

I stared at all those tall thin windows, all those steps there had to be inside, and Grandpa might now be as feeble and lame as Granny had been.

The home was on a treelined street. All the houses looked well kept up. Each had a front lawn, and morning newspapers lay on porch steps, or near the doors. Husbands in morning disarray were out walking dogs on leashes.

Many a night I'd visited Winnerrow in dreams when all the streets were dim, empty, and dogs didn't bark, and birds didn't sing, and not a sound was to be heard. Terrible dreams in which I walked alone, always alone, searching for Our Jane, Keith, and Tom. Never for Grandpa, as if my subconscious had truly believed he'd always be in that hill cabin, somehow surviving, just because I wanted him to.

Logan spoke again. “I've heard that your grandfather helps with the cleaning to pay for his room and board, when your father forgets or is late paying Sally Trench.”

The sun, hardly over the horizon, was already blazing-​hot, smothering the valley. No refreshing cool breezes blew as they did up in the Willies. And to think all my life I'd believed the valley represented paradise.

“Let's go,” Logan said, taking me by the elbow and guiding me across the street and up the brick walk. “I'll wait out here on the porch. Take your time. I've got all dayall my lifeto spend with you.”

A fat, frowsy-​looking woman in her mid-​fifties responded to my timid knock, stared at me with intense interest, then swung the screen door wide and admitted me.

“I've been told my grandfather, Mr. Toby Casteel, is staying here with you,” I announced.

“Sure, honey, he's herean ain't ya a pretty thin, though. Really a pretty thin, ya are, ya truly are. Love that color hair, those pretty lipskissin lips, ya could say.” She sighed, glanced in a nearby window, and scowled at her own reflection before she turned back to me. "Dear old man, got a soft spot in my heart fer such as him. Took him in when nobody else would. Put him in a nice room, an fed him betta meals than he's eva had before. Lay ya ten t'one on that, twenty t'one. Bettin fool, I am. Have t'be. Kin't stay in this kinda business if ya don't gamble. People's tricky, real tricky. Younguns come an put their parents in here an say they'll pay, an they don't. They go, neva show up agin, an some old daddy or momma sits all their lives away, awaitin an awaitin fer visitors who