Chapter 26

Marian went into the house carefully. Harvey was still unconscious on the bed. He was breathing regularly, though, and there was only a slight bruise where Nathan had hit him with the paint can.

She had no idea what to do now. What he had done to that poor woman was criminal, no doubt, but she couldn’t report him. If he was arrested he’d be fired and everything would fall to pieces. She had nowhere to go - her parents were dead, and his parents were worse than he was. She had no skills. Women were beginning to enter the job market, very slowly, but she couldn’t think of anything she could do to put bread on the table. Something had to be done, though. He had gone too far. He had gone way too far. That woman had every right to come looking for him with a gun in her hand. She gave a sigh of relief that the woman wasn’t married. If she’d had a husband, he would have come looking for Harvey with a gun. All she could to was take care of the woman and offer her whatever support she could.

She thought back to the hovel the woman lived in. This woman was a teacher, for pity’s sake! They paid her some kind of salary. Why would a teacher, or anybody else, for that matter, live in that dump. And how was it that her daughters seemed to know an awful lot about the inside of that place? There were too many questions, and not enough answers. Harvey seemed to be relatively healthy. He was on his own.

She went into the kitchen and began putting together the things she wanted to take back with her. She’d stay the night, just in case the woman had a relapse or something. If so, one of the children could be sent for the doctor. In the mean time, she wanted to be there if Flossie woke up. She wanted Flossie to see a friendly face if that happened. The poor woman had been through too much already.

Flossie did wake during the night. She woke screaming. Marian got the other Seconal in her, and sang softly to her, stroking her hair until she was asleep again.

In the morning, Marian built a fire in the old wood stove. She hadn’t seen one since she was a girl, but the skills came back easily. She had learned to cook on such a stove. The utensils were mismatched, but well cared for, and she prepared breakfast with no trouble. Bernadette and Hilda Mae had gone into the other room and cleared boxes and piles of things off an antique feather bed. They had fallen asleep side by side, exhausted by the excitement of the evening. Nathan had pulled the chair Flossie had been sitting in into the bedroom, and lay draped across it, snoring lightly. Marian hadn’t been able to sleep at all, thinking about all the trouble this was going to cause.

The smells woke everyone. She looked behind her in surprise as Flossie walked slowly into the living room, her feet bare on the dirt floor.

“Good morning,” said Marian with false brightness in her voice. “I thought you might want to stay in bed.”

Flossie shook her head. She stumbled. The Seconal did that to you. It made it hard to wake up completely. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she said.

“Nonsense,” said Marian. “This is the least I could do. The very least.”

The girls wandered out of the other bedroom, and sat down on rickety chairs at the huge old table. Marian served Flossie first, and then the girls. Nathan appeared at the door to Flossie’s room, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He looked a sight, almost like some ghost come a-haunting. Marian sat down with a cup of coffee. When Nathan got to the table she pointed at the stove. He could serve himself.

“Do you have anything to take the paint off?” asked Marian.

Flossie looked at her paint spattered arms and shook her head.

“Miss Flossie?” said Hilda Mae. “Who did this to you?”

Flossie looked at Marian, who closed her eyes, and then opened them again to stare into the woman’s dark brown ones. She had no right to ask this woman to remain silent.

“It’s not something I want to talk about,” said Flossie.

“Was it my Daddy?” Hilda Mae asked, not leaving it alone.

Marian closed her eyes again. Hilda Mae always had been very intelligent. Putting two and two together, what with Nathan coming home like that, carrying Harvey, and both of them covered in paint. She should have known they’d figure it out.

“Hilda Mae,” said Flossie. “Don’t argue with me.”

“Yes Ma’am,” said Hilda Mae, her voice subdued. Her voice bore clear respect for this colored woman. She picked at her food, but Marian didn’t say anything to her about it.

Nathan sat down. There was nothing wrong with his appetite.

“I made a mess,” he said, looking at where the dirt floor was covered with paint. He looked at his own arms. He hadn’t changed clothes yet and Marian couldn’t believe he could stand to still be in the paint-soaked ones.

“We’ll clean it up,” said Flossie. “Thank you for making that mess, Nathan.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said. “You’re welcome.”

Marian was amazed at how quickly the woman recovered her equilibrium. If this had happened to her, she was quite sure she’d be a basket case for weeks.

“And thank you for being here with me,” said Flossie to Marian. “I hope this doesn’t strain things for you.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” said Marian. She sipped her coffee. It tasted so much better than that instant stuff from the jar. “And don’t you worry about him either. He’ll be crossing the street to avoid you, I can promise you that, at a minimum. Regardless of what else happens, I’ll personally make him pay for what he did for the rest of his life.”

“Perhaps the children should go home and change clothes,” suggested Flossie. It was a signal that she wanted to talk without them.

They didn’t want to go, but Marian sent them anyway. She instructed them not to talk to their father, except to tell him they had been so instructed. If he persisted, they were to leave, and come back to Flossie’s.

When they were gone, Marian set her cup down.

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

“There’s not much I can do,” said Flossie.

“You could press charges.”

“No,” she said softly.

“You must be joking. I’m his wife, but you have every right in the world to demand that he be put in jail.”

“That would never happen,” said Flossie. “And you’d know that, if you just thought about it. Not in this town. Not in this State.”

“But if anyone saw you like I saw you, there would be no question!” said Marian. “Even the doctor said something should be done.”

“They’d say I sassed him, or tried to steal from him or whatever they needed to say to make it all my fault. He called me a whore, Mrs. Wilson. And if I raise my voice others will call me that too. They’ll say I led him on.”

“But my son was here! He saw the whole thing! The doctor saw you. He could testify about that.”

“And that doctor would never say a word. You heard him. He won’t even treat a Negro, much less testify for one. To speak on behalf of a Negro is the kiss of death. You know that! And Nathan has a bright future ahead of him,” said Flossie. “He’s smart, and he has courage. He’ll make a fine police officer, or whatever he ends up doing. But pitting him against his own father is not something I want to do. What happened was bad enough. Can you imagine your son, standing in front of the judge? Do you think that would make a big difference? They’d tell him that he didn’t see what he thought he saw.”

“I saw how Nathan reacted last night,” said Marian. “He respects you a great deal. He would stand up for you in court if asked to.”

“He’s young. They’re all young. Being mixed together in school has made them see each other as just other children. But we both know the adults in this town wouldn’t be that way. Not yet. Maybe in fifty years, but not now.”

“You’re probably right,” Marian sighed. “For the first time in my life I don’t feel so good about that.”

“You could learn a lot from your children,” said Flossie. “Maybe you already have. Most women I know wouldn’t have done what you did last night.”

“It was only decent,” said Marian. “My husband harmed you. I had a duty to try to undo that harm, if I could.”

“Well, thank you,” said Flossie. “I’ll be fine from here on out, I imagine. You needn’t trouble yourself any more.”

“My children seem to be very familiar with the inside of your ... house.” Marian let that hang.

Flossie sighed. “Nathan has been helping me paint on Saturdays, before they go fishing. The girls read books while we paint.”

“I see,” said Marian. “They did not inform me of this.”

“I was afraid of that,” said Flossie. “I suspect they thought they would have been forbidden.”

“That is likely quite true - they would have,” said Marian. “However, that will no longer be the case. I’ll have them look in on you from time to time, if that’s all right.”

“They are wonderful children,” said Flossie. “They are always welcome here ... as are you ... if you feel so inclined.”

“Perhaps,” said Marian. “One never knows when one may need to borrow a cup of sugar.”

That was as far as it went. It was, under the circumstances, extraordinary, but that was as far as it could go at that point in time.

When Marian got home, Harvey was awake and surly. His head hurt, and he was still lying in bed.

There would obviously be no school that day. Marian sent Bernadette and Hilda Mae went back to Flossie’s, in case she needed anything. For the first time in her life she didn’t want her daughters to be around their father. She told Nathan to go to school to tell everyone to go back home.

She couldn’t take Harvey to the doctor. He was covered in paint. She knew she should, because he might be injured too, but it would be too embarrassing. But if he didn’t go to work, people might inquire. The paint could be explained as a simple accident. He needed to act normal.

“You need to go to work,” she said, looking at the man who had done such horrible things.

She was leaving the room when he asked how he got home.

“Nathan brought you.” she said. “He hit you with a can of paint.”

“I don’t remember that part,” he said, looking angry.

“Do you remember the rest?” she asked, stepping closer to him.

He looked at her innocently. “I told that nigger woman to leave my son alone,” he said. “He didn’t have to hit me like that.”

Marian stepped closer and looked down at Harvey.

“I saw what you did to that woman.”

She turned around and left. She was back within thirty seconds, a towel in her hands. She went to stand beside the bed, put the towel down on the bed, and pulled the covers down off of him. He had taken off everything except his boxer shorts at some point. She stood back a little, and fixed him with hot eyes.

“You are never to so much as look at Flossie Pendergast again in your life, for any reason whatsoever. You have abused your freedom and I am withdrawing it. You will go nowhere without telling me first, and then only if I agree you may go there. Tonight, and until further notice, you will be sleeping on the couch. I will keep the car keys, and I will take you to, and pick you up from the bank. I will discipline the children and you will not. If this is not acceptable to you, you may file for divorce. There isn’t a court in the land that will deny me full alimony if Nathan testifies ... and he will be happy to testify on my behalf. You are welcome to your opinions, but you will keep them to yourself.”

She reached for the towel, and looked at him, eye to eye. “Remember this. If I ever find out you have touched Flossie Pendergast again, for any reason at all, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

With that, she pulled her very best carving knife from inside the towel, where she had wrapped it up. It was the one with the needle-sharp point. It flashed in the air as her hand raised it, and Harvey screamed as he saw it falling toward his groin. She drove it clear through the mattress, about two inches from his crotch.

She left it there, and stood up. “Now ... get dressed. When you’re ready I’ll take you to work.”

When Nathan got to school and told the kids to go home, they were curious, especially since he was still mostly covered with paint. He had changed clothes, but he looked like he had some horrible disease. He said only that there had been some trouble, and that she had been hurt and had to take a few days off to heal up. The older kids wanted to go see her, but Nathan said he thought she’d rather not have visitors for a day or two.

Since there wasn’t going to be any school, they then decided that this was the perfect opportunity to do some more work on the treehouse. A trip to the mansion was necessary, to obtain more building materials. Nathan, glad for the diversion, said he’d meet them there after he ran a couple of errands.

He went to the General Store, where everyone laughed at him. They had nothing to remove dried paint and sent him to the hardware store. The hardware man said he had just the thing, but that it had to be used sparingly because it would burn the skin if too much was applied. Nathan bought a quart, and then, on impulse, got a flashlight too, and two batteries. He took the paint remover to Flossie’s. She was sleeping. Hilda Mae was keeping watch over her, and Bernadette was reading. He left the paint remover there, but didn’t tell them where he was going, since he wanted them to stay there.

The others were at the mansion when he got there, and had separated out a nice pile of lumber. The hole around the steps had been cleared more too, and was slightly larger. Jesse wanted to make a torch so they could look inside.

“I can do you one better than that,” said Nathan, pulling out the flashlight.

Jesse was the only one who could fit in the hole, really, or Johnnie Sue, but neither Curtis Lee nor Nathan would let her go. Before they’d let Jesse go in, they found more lumber that they could shore up the beam with that was hanging over the hole. Finally Nathan handed the flashlight to him.

“Don’t go in very far,” he said. “And keep talking to us so we know you’re okay.”

Jesse eagerly went towards the hole, going in head first on his hands and knees.

“Watch out for nails!” shouted Curtis Lee.

Jesse’s feet stopped within a foot of the outside, and stayed there for thirty seconds or so. Then they disappeared and his face came to the entrance.

“It opens up pretty big. It goes under some of the house that’s still standing. The tree trunk goes all the way down into it!”

“What did you see?” asked Moses.

“There’s a bunch of old furniture and crates and such stacked all around, kind of piled up.” he said. “There’s kind of a pathway through it. I could go deeper pretty easy. It’s got a board ceiling. I can stand up, but you’d have to duck.”

Luthor said he was going to go pound on the floor of the dining room, and crawled up to do that. They all heard him stomping and Jesse’s face disappeared. It came back and he was smiling. “Yup, I could see the dust falling from further back when he stomped. It’s under wherever he was.”

“Is it under the whole house?” asked Johnnie Sue.

Jessie shook his head. “No, it’s long and narrow. I can’t see how far back it goes, but it’s not under you guys.”

They decided to excavate more, and Jesse came out. It took them all day, but they finally cleared a pathway all the way from the steps to the tree. Now they could all go down in the cellar. They only had the one flashlight, but the hole they had opened up let in some light. The part of the room around the tree trunk was full of what had fallen into it from above when the floor burned through, and that was piled on top of what it had fallen on. They could see a crushed chair, and what looked like part of a desk. The rest of the room was about ten feet wide. Nathan went along the pathway between crates and old chairs and saw, with the light, that it was only fifteen feet long at the most.

There were a couple of trunks that, when opened, contained only rotted cloth ... all that was left of clothing, most likely. One crate contained some wooden toys. Another held five long brass tubes that had a glass plug in each end. They were smooth along their length, except for what looked like short legs, one at each end, about six inches from the glass plugs. None of them could figure out what they were until Luthor looked through one end, while he pointed the other end at the lighted entrance.