Hers the Kingdom (60 page)

     Within two weeks, Francisco was installed in his new home and he was, as Thad put it, "happy as a clam." The ranch hands made an occasion of it, taking gifts of red peppers and tequila, giving him a proper housewarming. The toothless old herder welcomed everyone into what he proudly called his
castillo
, though it was hardly that. Sally and the twins made him a large picture of a herd of sheep, the mountains behind, "so that he wouldn't feel lonely."

     Two days later, Willa popped her head into my office to say, "Ride with me to pay Francisco a visit?"

     "My joints do feel stiff," I answered, only a bit reluctant to leave the books I was working on.

     "It'll do you good, then. Come along," she said.

     I quickly gathered up some oranges from the family orchard, packed them in a basket, and we were off. It was a dazzling, fresh morning, so bright I had to shield my eyes as we rode down the beach, avoiding the glare of the sun on the water.

     The old man stood in the doorway, waving a dirty towel at us.

     "Have you had any other visitors?" Willa asked, after all the greetings were taken care of, and he had thanked us profusely for the oranges.

     "
Sí
," the old man said, pleased with himself. "Yesterday, Señor Shurz and his neighbor, they come. They say, 'Let us pass, old man, it is our right.' And I say, 'No, señores, you cannot pass, I am very sorry,' I say."

     "And what happened then?" Willa asked.

     "He say he will have me arrested, and I say if that is so, that is so, but he cannot pass."

     We smiled. "He can't have you arrested, Francisco," Willa told him. "Don't worry, I wouldn't let that happen to you."

     The old man beamed at her.

     "Señor Shurz, he made the ugly
gringo
face, but he left."

     At this, both Willa and I burst out laughing, much to poor Francisco's dismay.
Gringo
, he realized now, was an insulting word.

     "It's all right," I told the poor man, "Jacob Shurz is exactly that—an ugly
gringo.
"

     Riding back, we saw a hawk circling above the palisades, and Willa stopped to watch. "It's a peregine," she said, "a female. She probably has a nest in those cliffs." She sighed. "I suppose I'll never again have the time I'd like for the falcons."

     "Why don't you let Thad take over the ranch work you do, at least. He's certainly capable."

     "Capable, yes," she answered. "It's just that he doesn't agree with me, either, on the matter of the right of way for the settlers."

     "Oh?" I asked.

     "He thinks I'm being too
inflexible
—that's Joseph's word. I'm sure the two have discussed it," she answered, irritated.

     "I think it's a good sign," I came back, "Joseph and Thad talking together, I mean."

     "What is a good sign," she said, calling back over her shoulder, "is that Shurz turned back, as I was sure he would. I was right about that." She galloped off, then, her hair tumbling out and streaming behind. She raced down the beach, and I watched her, glad for her happiness, her triumph. Glad she had ridden off so abruptly, so I would not have to say what had been on my mind: That Shurz might be an ugly
gringo
, but he wasn't the sort to pull down gates. He was the sort to wait her out in the courts.

At sundown the beach was bathed in golden light, so that even our skins seemed to glow and our shadows flung out long behind us on the sand. Sally and the twins were far ahead, peering at the edge of the waves to see what might have washed in on the tide. Thad and I trailed behind.

     "Let's sit on that log a bit, Auntie," he said, helping me lower myself.

     We gazed out on the open sea, following the progress of a Panama steamer. "Your father always called this the 'sundown sea,'" I told him.

     "Umm," he smiled, "I think of him still." We listened to the call of the pelicans, fishing long and low in a single row parallel to the shore, one and then another and another diving, headfirst, into the water and disappearing below the surface.

     "I've often thought about Rose, too," Thad said.

     "Rose?" I was surprised.

     "For the longest time I had nightmares about that night," he said. I had to strain to hear over the sound of the sea. "It was
always the same, the dream. She was in the solarium, in the bed by the window . . . the one where I had been that day. And I would hear the sounds—those terrible sounds she made when she was trying to get her breath."

     "Oh, no, Thad—you didn't hear that, you weren't there?" He only nodded his head. I shuddered for him. I hadn't known that he was a witness. Dear God, I thought.

     He went on, "I've never been able to forget those sounds. And then, in my dream, everything gets very quiet, and everyone knows she is dead and that I did it. I gave her the poison. No one blames me. They just won't look at me or say anything to me and I know, in my dream, that they all know I did it."

     "My dear boy," I blurted, distressed. I reached for his hand, and he gave it to me.

     "It's all right, now," he said in the same soft voice. "If it weren't, I don't think I could be telling you about the dream. I know I didn't kill Rose, I've always
known
that. But for a long time I thought that maybe if I had done something differently—if I had been nicer to her that day—maybe it wouldn't have happened. I remember thinking, in the early days when I was really young, that if I had just been nicer to her I wouldn't have been sent away, I could have stayed on the ranch."

     I squeezed his hand. I could hardly bear it, thinking of the pain the boy must have endured. Thinking of how little use I had been to anyone during those same months of that terrible year. "You had nothing at all to do with Rose's death, Thad," I said, weakly, "as a matter of fact, you were especially sweet with her and she cared for you quite a lot. No one was to blame for her death—though I believe your father blamed himself, because he was the one who had bought the poison and had put it out. He wanted to kill some moles that had been troublesome in the garden. Did you know that?"

     Thad shook his head. "No one ever told me, no one ever talked to me at all about Rose's death, so I didn't really know what had
happened, except that in the morning she had been having a tea party or something like that with me in the solarium, all laughing and happy, and then she was dead. I knew that she had been poisoned, but I never knew any of the details. I don't have much of a memory about the trip East, except that it ended with me being left with Wen at St. Paul's. And Grandmother died," he looked at me, as if to apologize. "Even Papa was quiet and wouldn't talk to me. So I thought I must have done something to cause it."

     "We were, all of us, in a dreadful state at that time," I tried to explain. "You were sent off to school only because of our unhappiness at the deaths—Rose, then our parents in quick succession. It was almost more than we could bear, Willa and I. You hadn't done anything in the least wrong, darling—you were perfectly innocent."

     "I know that now," Thad told me, pressing my hand in reassurance. "Truly, Auntie, I do." He looked up to see Sally approaching. His face softened, he could not help smiling.

     
Dear Sally
, I thought,
how lucky for us all that you have come to heal old wounds.

And it was a time of healing, of healing and laughter, and learning and . . . fun. Not just gentle, everyday fun where people smile at each other and make little jokes, but often outrageous, uproarious fun. I can remember laughing as I wrote in my journal: "It has taken many months, but finally Sally knows us well enough to reveal her second great flaw. She is a prankster of high order, or, as she dubs herself, 'the Grand High Wreaktress of Havoc.'

     "It started innocently enough when I discovered a tarantula in my sewing box. I had flung it across the room, its contents scattering hither and thither, before I realized that the twins were squealing with laughter and the spider was in fact made of wirecovered yarn.

     "Thad laughed with the rest, but soon the laugh was on him, too. I didn't know he could curse quite so well, until I heard him trying to pull on trousers whose legs had been sewn shut, and this before dawn on a morning when he needed to be off quickly. I must admit that Thad was a good enough sport about it when he discovered that Porter had done the stitchery, knowing that Porter's tutor had been the instigator.

     "One prank fell upon another. The twins quickly became Sally's lieutenants, and they found more silent partners than I could have imagined. (Soong, I am sure, aided and abetted them on a number of occasions.) Willa met herself the other afternoon—
herself
being our pet donkey, all dressed up in some of Willa's cast-off finery, including the gray silk dress bought long ago at Worth's in Paris. With the gray, they had fashioned an extraordinary pink hat filled with flowers—the donkey's ears sticking through the flowers.

     "How many more pranks? I can hardly remember them all. It is nothing to be playing the piano, have the F sharp suddenly make a rude noise. When we celebrated Thad's birthday two weeks ago, Sally insisted on making the cake. It was beautiful, and caused much tittering among the twins. Luckily, we had dinner that night—a warm evening—in the arbor, for the cake was a cardboard confection filled with
frogs
. . . real, live frogs that began hopping all over the place when Sally cut into the box. We had invited a group of young people for a party—most of whom Thad had known slightly, or who were known to Arcadia—and at first they seemed shocked. Then the laughter started—and even the proper young ladies got into the spirit, and helped chase the frogs about the lawn . . . squealing with feigned abhorrence all the while.

     "The other young ladies seemed not to know what to make of Miss Sally Fairleigh. They waited and, when the young men seemed inclined to accept her, decided it might be a nice idea. I was pleased with them. It is nice to see Thad and Sally among a group of young people. They played songs on the Victrola, they danced
and they strolled the beach, and at sunset—before the carriages left for Santa Monica—they had a sing. Kit and Porter hid in the arbor and watched. Kit seemed to like what she saw, but Porter was vaguely disapproving. I wonder if he is a bit jealous that Sally seemed to prefer her visitors to him?

     "Sally's birthday was yesterday. I must say, Thad managed to return the favor. He outdid himself, and I do believe he has had the last word in pranks. Joseph and Arcadia came for the weekend. Nothing much had been said of Sally's birthday. In fact, we had planned a quiet little celebration, with a cake and a few gifts. Before daybreak, I heard a knock on my door. It was Porter urging me to get up, and dress quickly. I heard Kit go to her mother's room, and Thad downstairs, waking Joseph. Arcadia was already up, to my surprise. (I should not have been surprised; Arcadia would, of course, be Thad's accomplice.) We went by horseback to the cottage by the beach where Sally lived.

     "'Shhh,' Porter warned us, 'be very quiet.' We dismounted some distance from the cottage, and waited. 'Whatever is this all about,' Willa scolded, pulling Kit close to keep her warm in the morning chill.

     "At first light, I caught a glimmer of something off the coast—a boat, two boats . . . three. As the sun broke over the mountains, they moved closer into sight: Three long skiffs, filled with men in brightly colored uniforms. As the sun caught them, and sparkled off the brilliance of uniforms and brass instruments, they broke into sound: music. They were playing a rousing march, a Sousa march . . . louder and louder until you could hear the sound over the water, loud and clear. The boats beached, a runner jumping out to pull them ashore, and out marched a full-scale, brightly uniformed marching band. Without a moment's hesitation, they marched right up to the cottage—in perfect step now, even in the soft sand, and played 'Happy Birthday.'

     "Under cover of the noise we had moved around, in front of the cottage, so we could see the moment of truth.