Luna (19 page)

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Authors: Sharon Butala

BOOK: Luna
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“He put his arm here?” she asked, turning, touching her throat with her own cool fingers, imagining Brian’s arm on Phoebe’s throat.

“Yes,” Phoebe said, acquiescing to Selena’s need. “Yes. There”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“You struggled?”

“I bit him on the wrist,” Phoebe said, breaking into their litany. “I made him bleed, too.”

“Good.”

“I can still taste the blood,” Phoebe said, a faint tinge of surprise in her voice.

“Why didn’t you scream?” Selena asked again.

Phoebe repeated her answer carefully, gently.

“Because my skirt was up around my waist. My dress was … off my shoulders.”

“I could kill him,” Selena said, but even she could hear the lack of passion in her voice, the bewilderment.

They were both silent then, Phoebe a blurred egg-like shape floating in the shadows across from Selena. She wished she could see Phoebe’s face. She thought of Diane now, somewhere in the city, wide awake in her brightly-lit doughnut shop, watching the people who came in: drug addicts, drunks, thieves, runaways.

“I’ve decided to have the baby,” Phoebe said. “To have it and to keep it.”

“Why?” Selena asked, after a moment.

“Because if I have it, people will have to look at me. They won’t be able to forget what happened. They will have to see how the world is.” How the world is? Selena thought. Is that what they will see?

“Your father has said he will take care of you and the baby.”

Phoebe said, “Oh?”

“I know Diane would take you, if you’d rather go there.”

“No,” Phoebe said. “Let him see me every day.” Let who see you? Selena wondered, since Brian was gone, then she realized that Phoebe
meant Kent, and understood. Because he’s a man—because he doesn’t believe her, because … she was not sure what else. It seemed too hard to understand what else. It was all too hard.

“But,” she began, hesitated, then went on, “what about you? What about your life?”

“This
is my life,” Phoebe said. Her voice was clear and strong. It was so different that for an instant Selena thought someone else had spoken. Then Phoebe said, “Now I’m not going to talk about it anymore.”

OCTOBER

Selena and Ruth were in the hall kitchen mashing potatoes. Outside, in the hall itself, the noise was growing as people came streaming through the door in groups of three, four and five. Earlier in the day Selena had seen the first long, wobbling line of geese, its V uncertain, a big powerful gander breaking from the line to fly ahead and take the lead. Another fowl supper, another year gone around, and here we are again, Selena thought, as Ruth poured in the cream and dropped in a chunk of butter, then took the masher from Selena to take her turn whipping the potatoes. But everything is different now, Selena thought, nothing is the same.

“How’s Phoebe?” Ruth asked in an undertone, pausing to rest. Women moved around them, intent on their tasks, filling the big serving bowls and setting them on the long buffet table.

“Two hundred people, already,” Ella called over the racket, and there were murmurs of surprise and a few of concern.

They’re still coming in. I hope we have enough,” Helen said. “Somebody come and help me slice this turkey. We’re going to need it right away.” Enid hurried over.

“She’s coming along all right. She never goes out though.” Ruth nodded, pushing her glasses back up her nose. She went back to whipping while Selena went to the cupboard and took down two big serving bowls.

“Hurry up with those potatoes, Selena,” Helen said into her ear, putting her hands on Selena’s waist. “They’re starting to line up.” Selena nodded without turning around. Nobody had mentioned Phoebe, except for Ruth, which meant that they all knew everything there was to know—that she was at home, pregnant with Brian’s child, that Brian had run away so as to avoid having to marry her. How they knew was a mystery, but they did, they always did. Maybe Brian had said something to somebody’s son, and the son had told what he had heard. Or somebody who shouldn’t have been was listening over a party line and heard a comment, a word dropped here or there, put two and two together, and now, everybody knew. But the rape, she thought to herself—the word still held power—they didn’t know about that. She wished they did. But knew she would never say anything, although Phoebe would, if she were talking, if she were going out.

Selena had set Phoebe to work sewing maternity clothes for herself, and knitting and crocheting things for her baby. Keep her busy, Rhea had told her, and send her over here to me. I’ve got things to show her. So Phoebe went to Rhea’s two or three times a week, and nowhere else. Selena knew she would never stop being grateful to Rhea. How would we ever get along without the older ones to take the lead, to show us how to do things, she wondered.

She and Ruth began to pile potatoes into the bowls and Joanne whisked Ruth’s away while she was still piling the last spoonful into it. The noise in the hall rose, accompanied now by the clink of cutlery as people took knives and forks and filled their paper plates, then filed into the hall to find places to sit.

“Auntie Selena!” a small voice behind Selena called, and Selena thrust her bowl of potatoes toward Joanne—slim again, her baby a month old already and sleeping in its basket in the corner of the kitchen—and turned in surprise. Tammy was smiling half eagerly, half shyly up at her, decked out in a new blue and white checked dress with white eyelet trim on the shoulders and at the hem, her long hair carefully brushed and shining.

Selena bent at once and hugged her.

“Tammy! Where’s your mom? Where’s Cathy? And your dad?”

Phyllis passed, patted Tammy on the head, leaned swiftly down to say,
“What a pretty dress!” and then went on by. Tammy stepped back, delighted with her reception, and pointed out to the hall where the tables were rapidly filling.

“Mom didn’t come,” she said. “Just Daddy.”

Selena left the other women to the work and let Tammy lead her to where Tony was sitting at one of the tables, talking to Kent. Coming up from behind, she put an arm across his shoulders and hugged him. He turned around, grinning, greeted her. “Hi, Selena. Tammy found you, eh?”

“You bet she did,” Selena said, raising her voice to be heard over the noise. “Where’s Diane?”

“She had to work this weekend, so I thought I’d give her a break, and bring the kids down here. It’s good for the kids, too. I don’t want them forgetting where home is.” She lifted Cathy from the bench and squeezed in beside him, lifting Cathy onto her knee while Tammy pressed up against her on the other side.

“How long are you staying?”

“Just till tomorrow,” he said. “I took a day off. We got here about noon and I took the kids over to Mom and Dad. Mom got them whipped into shape for tonight. Not that I couldn’t have done it myself. You should see me tie sashes and hair ribbons.” He laughed at this, but with genuine pride. “I want to get them back for tomorrow night so they have part of Sunday with Diane. They don’t see enough of her these days.” Kent sat on Tony’s right, eating silently. Selena reached around Cathy to cut Tammy’s turkey for her. Tony had returned to his meal, seeing Selena would look after the girls.

“Guess what, Auntie Selena,” Tammy said, and began to tell Selena a long story about school and her new friend. Cathy struggled to get down and Selena had to let her go before she began to cry. She wanted to ask Tony if he had found a buyer for the farm yet, but he was turned away from her and was talking to Kent. Tammy left the table to bring Cathy back, then climbed back into her place.

Lana came rushing up the narrow aisle between the benches toward Tammy, bumping first into this back and then that one on her way. The two little girls looked at one another, smiling shyly. Lana spun around once,
losing her balance, and Joanne’s husband caught her by the arm and set her upright, laughing. Lana turned to run away and Tammy scrambled down again and vanished into the crowd, following her. Selena got up, picked up Cathy and went into the kitchen hugging Cathy and murmuring to her.

“How are you, sweetheart, how do you like your new house, is that a new dress?” It was meaningless, just a murmur of words into Cathy’s ear, meant only to express her love, and Selena could tell by the way Cathy nestled against her and didn’t even try to answer, that she wasn’t getting enough attention.

“Who have you got there?” Ruth asked, as Selena set Cathy onto the counter beside her. She smiled at Cathy and patted her cheek. “She’s such a little dear,” she said, as Lola came over holding a filled plate.

“She’s going to look like Tony, I think,” Lola said. “Those big dark eyes.” She set her plate on the counter and offered Cathy a bite of turkey covered with cranberry sauce, which Cathy accepted. Lola began to eat, too, standing up at the counter. Helen came over and leaned on the counter, watching the last of the crowd file by the buffet table.

“Aren’t you eating?” Lola asked Helen. “There aren’t any seats left out in the hall.” Helen shook her head no.

“I’m not hungry yet,” she said.

“You’re not dieting, are you?” Margaret inquired, passing by with a pitcher of hot coffee, on her way to start filling cups.

“Margaret,” Helen said, barely able to hide her exasperation. “You should let the young girls do that. Tracey!”

“Goodness,” Margaret said, frowning. “They’ll scald somebody,” but she relinquished the pitcher to Tracey. Selena suddenly realized that she missed seeing Tracey jump off the school bus behind Phoebe, missed her staying for supper, the two girls giggling all night in Phoebe’s room. Tracey avoided looking at Selena as she turned away from Margaret, steadying the hot pitcher, to make her way to the tables.

“You’re getting too thin,” Margaret said to Helen. “I don’t think too much of this thin business. A little fat looks better on you.” Helen’s lips tightened. “That salad bowl’s almost empty,” Margaret said, and hurried away to fill it.

“That woman!” Helen said. Selena laughed, holding onto Cathy to keep her from falling off the counter. “The older she gets the bossier she gets.”

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Selena said. But Helen was thinner, and she hadn’t been plump to begin with. Selena wondered if maybe there was something wrong with her. Helen was ten years older than Selena, at that age when things began to go wrong—breast cancer, cancer of the uterus.

“You have lost weight. Are you feeling all right?” Helen sighed, looked down at her body, and smoothed her skirt over her flat stomach.

“I feel okay,” she said. “A hot flush now and then, but there’s nothing wrong with me time won’t take care of.”

“You should see the doctor,” Selena suggested.

“Hah!” Helen said. “When I sent Linda to see him because she was having painful periods and was sick the whole week she was premenstrual, he told her to drink a glass of orange juice every morning.” They both laughed wryly at this. “No, if it gets really bad, I’ll go, but not one second sooner.” She flashed a quick smile at Selena, then, seeing a flurry of activity at the far end of the kitchen, hurried over to help out.

Tracey had returned with her pitcher empty. Cathy leaned against Selena’s arm contentedly, and kicked her legs against the cupboard door so that her hard little heels in their good shoes drummed satisfyingly. Tracey came and stood beside her.

“Selena?” Tracey said softly so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am.” She seemed to be waiting for Selena’s reaction.

“We’re all pretty sorry,” Selena said, tears dangerously near. She looked away from Tracey.

“Is there anything I can do?” Tracey asked.

“Come and see her,” Selena said, hiding her face in Cathy’s hair until the threatening tears receded.

“I phoned her, but I don’t think she wants me to come.”

“Come anyway,” Selena said, lifting her face. “She feels bad, you know. She’d be glad if you came.”

“Okay,” Tracey said, and smiled. That light ‘okay’ and the trusting way she smiled made Selena’s heart ache, because only a short month ago
Phoebe had been a girl like Tracey. And now she wasn’t a girl anymore. Cathy was squirming, trying to get down off the counter. “I’ll look after her,” Tracey said.

“Could you take her to the toilet?” Selena asked.

Jason came up then, out of breath, his hair dishevelled, the remains of crushed weeds and grass stuck to the back of his jacket. She began automatically to brush him off.

“People are asking me where Phoebe is. What should I say?” He looked at her angrily, as if she were responsible for his embarrassment. His nose had started to run and she handed him a tissue from her apron pocket, noticing that he had grown since summer.

“You must have grown an inch!” she said. Pleased, he couldn’t help but grin, but the grin quickly disappeared. “Tell them … she’s sick.” This didn’t seem right, yet she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Besides, they all knew where she was, she thought angrily. He must mean the kids are teasing him. “Tell them to mind their own business,” she said. Jason turned to look out over the people through the wide doorway. “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked.

“Yup,” he said. “Where’s Mark?” She shrugged.

“I haven’t seen him since we got here. Ask your dad.” It occurred to her that she had always known where Phoebe was, that Phoebe had never gone anywhere without asking permission. It struck her that there was something not right about that, and she puzzled over it. Jason left her and went out into the hall. Lola, who had been talking to Margaret on her other side, turned back to Selena.

“I’m going to grab some pumpkin pie before it’s all gone,” she said. “Want a piece?”

“Okay,” Selena said. In a minute Lola was back, carrying two plates with a slice of pie on each.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask about Phoebe. I just hope she’s okay, that’s all.” Had Lola been pregnant when she got married? Selena tried to remember. They’d all counted backwards when the baby was born, she remembered that. She looked into Lola’s wide brown eyes, and seeing real concern in them, smiled.

“She’s okay. She just can’t bring herself to go out in public.” Lola nodded.

“It must be hard for her. For all of you,” she said. Selena didn’t trust herself to answer. “That Brian!” Lola said. “I heard he got a girl from Swift Current into trouble.” Selena turned, startled.

“What?”

“Didn’t you know?” Lola flushed and put down her fork. “I thought everybody knew. Or maybe it’s not true. I forget where I heard it.”

“When?” Selena asked.

“Last year, I think. It’s probably not true.” Selena’s heart had begun to pound. What possible difference can this make? she asked herself, and then answered, none. “Some men!” Lola said, angrily shaking her head. “I don’t know what they think we are.”

Much later, when they had finished the dishes, Selena went to find Kent. He and Tony and Kent’s brother, Gus, were leaning against the wall in the corner of the hall by the stage. Tammy and some other little girls were nearby sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging their legs. Rhoda was leaning against the stage beside them, holding Cathy. The hall was almost empty. The few remaining husbands were collapsing tables and putting them and the chairs away. Kent went to help, and Selena went to Tony before he could go too.

“How are things going?” she asked. She looked up at him, determined that he wouldn’t get away without telling her something.

“They’re all right, Selena, honest,” Tony said, smiling at her. “Diane’s having the time of her life. She’s taking night classes now, she’s going to the first plays and concerts she’s ever been to in her life, she’s doing all the things she said she wanted to do.”

“Has she got any time left for her kids?” Selena asked, angrily. Tony smiled at Tammy in her pretty dress, and then looked at Cathy in Rhoda’s arms.

“Not much.” He studied his boots, then lifted his eyes to Selena’s again. “Give her a chance, Selena, eh? A year or so, then she’ll settle down.” He smiled at her, anxious to reassure her. “She’s not like you and me,” he said. “Stop worrying. I’ll look after things, you can count on me.” She found herself wanting to hug him, for his generosity, his reliability.

“What about your farm?” she asked.

“I got a nibble, an out-of-town buyer. We’ll see,” he said, and smiled faintly. She hesitated then, knowing she should tell Tony about Phoebe, but she couldn’t find the words. He’d feel responsible for her, too, she thought, amused.

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