M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (21 page)

Blake grabbed at her but only managed to get ahold of some of fabric of her dress. “Leave her. You’re going to hurt her,” Blake yelled. “Please, let her go.”

The deputy demanded Lolly and Blake let go. Mrs. Morris scolded Lolly for being naughty and making her run. As the pandemonium escalated, Lolly became more and more hysterical until the deputy and Mrs. Morris finally heard the level of her distress.

“For God’s sake,” Blake yelled above the screams. “Please, open the door. This baby's been through enough. She needs me.” When they didn’t move, Blake begged. “Please, she needs me.”

Something in Blake’s tone spurred the deputy into action. He grabbed the keys out of the desk and fumbled until he had the cell door open. Lolly darted into the cell and into Blake’s arms. He sat down on the cot, rocked her and stroked her head, whispering words of comfort into her ear. Gradually, her screams were replaced by hiccupped sobs. Eventually, those became a low, moaning cry until they finally faded into silence. Several times Blake had to blink back tears remembering his own terror when his mother died. He wanted to make promises to her that everything was going to be all right but it was out of his hands.

Lolly sat perfectly still in his lap, only moving
when Blake attempted to stop the rocking motion. She would continue rocking until he started back up. They continued on like that for more than an hour.

“Are you really her uncle?” the deputy asked.

“Of course he is,” the little girl answered for Blake. “And I’m his aunt, too. Ain’t I, Uncle Blake?”

“Niece,” he corrected.

Blake gently tugged on the little girl’s braid. He hated to let her get attached to him knowing that he would not be there the next day.

“Oh, yeah, huh, niece,” she said. “He’s my Uncle Blake. I saw his picture.”

“Your ma has his picture at your house?” the deputy asked.

The little girl’s brow knitted. “Not anymore.”

Blake looked at Lolly incredulously. Although he knew she meant that she had seen the picture he had of his
sister
, she had made it sound as if her mother had owned a portrait of him.

“Are you telling me, you really are this girl’s uncle? And that your whole story about searching for your long-lost sister is true?”

Blake could only shrug in response. His fortune seemed to be suddenly changing before his eyes. Restraint, he told himself. Don’t overplay your hand now.

“If that’s true, then why didn’t you just send us to their farm to confirm that you were out there and you found your sister?”

“And have her hanged, too, for aiding a spy? Besides, our meeting didn’t go well. I didn’t know what she would’ve said.”

Hyram Abercrombie scratched his beard. He’d
have to talk to the sheriff about this.

Blake’s one-day reprieve turned into a second day. The sheriff wanted to talk to Pete Morgan before he did anything. If he could confirm the little girl’s story, he’d really have no choice but to let their spy go.

19

Meredith sat on the bed in Blake’s room petting Donna’s tabby cat. Her eyes remained downcast when Donna walked into the room. He had been gone more than a week with no word from him.

“I don’t pretend to understand my brother,” the older woman said without preamble as she joined Meredith on the large bed. “I’ve never condoned his behavior but I’ve never taken a forceful stand against it either. I’ve always just made allowances for it.”

“I’m not upset Donna. I’m really not.” The forced brightness in her voice belied her words.

Donna looked thoughtfully into Meredith’s eyes,
opened her mouth to say something, and closed it as if she thought better of it. Then after another moment she tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she began speaking. “Have you ever seen anyone age before your eyes?”

The look on Meredith’s face showed her surprise at the abrupt change of topic. “No.”

“It only took about a week for my father’s hair to turn from dark to gray. At first I teased him about it and he claimed it was a requirement of the Senate to have gray hair,” she said with a waning smile. “Soon after, his cheeks became pale and sunken as he began to lose weight. He never smiled. The sparkle left his eyes. I thought he was dying.”

“Was he ill?” Meredith asked rubbing the kitten’s soft fur against the side of her face.

“When I asked him, he said it was only stress. He was finishing up his last Assembly term and making a bid for the Senate. If he didn’t win the election, he would have to go back to his old law firm. Although doubt still nagged at my mind, I chose to accept what he said. I was a teenager at the time and I didn’t want to face the possibility my father might have been mortal.”

A lump rose in Meredith’s throat. She understood completely. It was all too new to her.
Raw. “Did his health improve after the election?”

Donna shook her head. “He won the election so I thought he’d get back to being his usual self. Mama threw a big celebration party and then we were so busy with Christmas that I didn’t notice how far my father slipped. He seemed to have a bit of color in his cheeks on Christmas morning but I soon discovered his Christmas cheer came out of a bottle of brandy. He started a fight with Mama then stormed out of the house and didn’t come back until late that night. The next day, he left for
Washington to set up his new office although he still had weeks to take care of that. Mama and my sister, Cloris, didn’t seem to think anything was amiss, or perhaps just didn’t care. Their marriage had been bad for as long as I can remember.”

Donna sighed, leaning against the footboard. “Father came back for a few days
in February. He looked much worse. His hair was unkempt; he put off bathing until we complained. His mood became intolerable. He was a shell of the man he had been.”

“It must have been hard on you,” Meredith commented, the cat all but forgotten.

“I was a wreck. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t concentrate in class. I got into trouble at school for the first time in my life. It was a bad time for both of us. My breaking point came on a blustery, cold February day. The icy wind blowing off Lake Michigan made it unbearable. My teacher kept me after to scold me for the drop in my grades. When I came out, there was a crowd out in the schoolyard. I worked my way into the group to see what was happening. In the middle of the circle there were two of my classmates and the dirtiest piece of gutter trash I had ever seen. He was small, at least five years younger than my friends. There were holes in his clothing and he had put newspaper inside his jacket to help him keep warm. I didn’t know what was more appalling; his gall for coming into our neighborhood or the fact that his mother let him out of the house without a heavy coat, gloves and a hat.” Her eyes came up and met the younger woman’s. “Honestly,” Donna muttered shaking her head. “I didn’t know any better. I thought this little beggar-boy was filthy because he was too ignorant to bathe.”

Donna took a breath. “The boys pushed him around, taunting him, and held a nickel above his head just out of his reach. He kicked Bennett, the one with the nickel, so hard in the kneecap that he fell to the ground
and then the boy kicked him between the legs and pried the nickel out of his hand as he writhed in pain. Bennett called him a.... Let’s just say he questioned his parentage.”

“You mean he called him a bastard?”

Embarrassed over Meredith’s crudity, Donna blushed and nodded.  “Nearly all the bystanders gasp at the blasphemy and I came very close to missing what he said. His fists were balled up at his side ready to defend himself as he announced, ‘I am not a’ – you-know-what. ‘I have a father and he’s as rich and important as any of yours.’

“Bennett began badgering the boy to tell his father’s name if he wasn’t a by-blow and eventually he yelled, ‘His name is Senator Randolph Knight.’ He launched himself at the boy who called him that name and bloodied his nose before the other boys could pull him off. Needless to say, I was suddenly the center of
attention and the butt of the jokes. I defended myself by calling him a liar. He stuck to his guns, so I grabbed him by the collar and set off at a good pace to find my father. He didn’t put up much of a fight at first. I thought it was because I was older and stronger but in truth, it was probably because I was taking him away from the group of boys who would’ve beaten him up. Not until we reached my father’s in-town offices about a quarter-mile away, did he give me any serious trouble. As soon as he saw Father’s name on the door of the inner office, he panicked. I had to fight him tooth and nail to pull them past Father’s secretary into the office. For the only time in my life my father cursed at me and demanded to know why I’d barged in his office with this ragamuffin. Well, I punched the boy in the arm and tried to force him to tell
my
father what he had said. He just stood there as if he’d been poleaxed. His eyes were as wide as saucers. ‘He claimed you’re his father.’ I said it in a smug tone thinking Father would set him straight about telling lies. Father’s eyebrows came down as his attention turned to the boy and I knew I was about to hear a good setting down. He scowled at him for only a moment before his eyebrows shot up. The sheer desperation in his voice when he cried out Blake’s name scared me. I was horrified when I realized this child was my father’s son.”

“I imagine you were,” Meredith agreed.

“Father’s chair skittered backwards as he came around his desk. He fell to his knees, gathering that filthy waif up in his arms and he cried. He thanked God over and over with his lips pressed against Blake’s forehead until his sobs began to cease. He held him at arm’s-length and asked if he was all right. Blake only nodded. Father began chafing Blake’s arms and set his warm cheeks alternately against his because he was so cold. I think Father felt the wetness on Blake’s cheek before he saw it. Father asked him why he was crying. Blake thought he was in trouble. He said, ‘I’m sorry I told, sir. I know I wasn’t supposed to.’ Father pulled him back into his embrace and told him not to be sorry that he did the right thing. Blake looked at him and asked in the most vulnerable voice I’ve ever heard, ‘You’re not angry with me?’ His little chin trembled until Father told him he would gladly give up everything to know all of his children were safe. Then as if all the strength and fight left his body, Blake sagged against Father’s chest.”

“My God.”

“I was on the verge of bolting when Father remembered I was in the room. He told me I probably saved his life by bringing him there. He held out his hand to me and I reluctantly put my hand in his and he pulled me forward and introduced me to my brother. I felt more guilty than noble and resisted being pulled into the embrace with my father and this grimy boy. Blake turned his head and looked at me. I didn’t see the dirt anymore. I only saw my father’s eyes looking out from Blake’s small face. They were filled with such hopelessness that I knew he’d seen more sorrow and desperation in his young life than most people would ever know. I knew I had to comfort him and I threw myself into the embrace. I don’t know how he survived. It was so cold that winter – in Chicago all winters are like that. It’s amazing he has all his fingers and toes.”

Meredith had taken Donna’s hand without realizing it and now gave it a slight squeeze thankful that Blake had someone to comfort him. “How did his circumstances become so dire? Where was his mother?”

“She died several months earlier. After we moved to Illinois and father got elected, he kept his mistress in Springfield, over two hundred miles away. Blake didn’t know how to contact Father. He didn’t know where we lived or where Father’s office in Springfield was located. He only knew we lived in Chicago and he walked all the way there.”

“He was well-known. Surely, he could have asked almost anyone.”

“He had been told never to divulge his father’s identity. He was too young to realize the circumstances permitted the breach.” Donna’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Father was at home campaigning at the time. When he returned to the capital, he found out the love of his life had died and their son had disappeared. He hired investigators to find him but they came up empty-handed.”

“How could he have possibly survived that long?” Meredith asked. “He was so young.”

Donna shook her head and shrugged again. “I don’t really know. He won’t talk about his life before I found him. It’s as if his life started that day. I’m probably closer to him than anyone but he always changes the subject if I ask him about his early childhood.”

Meredith fell silent for several moments. “He must be thankful your mother let him stay with your family. I don’t imagine many wives would.”

“But she wouldn’t. Blake spent the rest of his childhood at boarding schools. Father would visit him occasionally and retrieve him when he got expelled. My mother claimed Blake kept getting expelled intentionally to get Father’s attention – which was probably true – so she insisted that her brother should retrieve him and take him to the next school so he would stop being
rewarded
for bad behavior by getting to see him.”