Melody (47 page)

“What a terrible thing,” Grandpa said, coming up beside me.

“I don't want her buried here. I want her buried back in Sewell beside my daddy,” I said. “It's where she belongs.”

“Sewell?” Grandma looked at Grandpa and then at Cary. “She's my sister's daughter. She doesn't belong there. She belongs here.”

“Where she hasn't been welcomed for years and years,” I spit back at her. “How can you be such a hypocrite!”

Grandma Olivia's face lost whatever color it had and became a pale, mean moon, bent on destruction.

“I'm no hypocrite. I have never said one thing and done another. I have never lied and I have always been a woman who keeps her word and her promises. Your mother was my sister's child and belongs in our ground near my father's and my mother's graves. She doesn't belong in some strange place beside a man who married her for all the wrong reasons.”

“That man is your son,” I reminded her.

“Was
my son,” she reminded me. “I will not lay out money to send her remains there. She should be with her family.”

“Why couldn't you feel that way when she was alive?”

“You know the answer to that question,” she said. “You're overwrought, emotionally disturbed. All of us have been taken by surprise. None of us wanted to see such a tragedy, but it's happened. It began some time ago and has finally been brought to this horrible end. The
least we could do for Haille's poor soul is put her remains where she has some familial company. You're too overwhelmed to discuss the matter.” She turned away.

“I'll dig her up and bring her back to Sewell. Someday I will. I swear.”

“When I'm dead and gone, you can do whatever you want, but I would hope that by then you would have grown up,” she replied. “I'm sorry for your sorrow. Losing a mother is never easy, no matter how your mother has treated you, but we must go on and do what is right, the things that are good. Cary, see that she gets home.” She left us.

I stood there for a few moments.

“She's right, my dear.” Grandpa put his arm around me. “She usually is. She's a remarkable woman.”

“She's an ogre,” I said. “The only thing that's remarkable is how you all let her get away with bullying you.” I pulled away from him and marched out of the house.

Cary followed and we got back into the truck. “There's nothing we can do,” he said. “We have no money, no authority—”

“I know. Let's go home.” I lowered my head.

The house was deadly quiet upon our return. I went directly to my room and lay there, thinking, remembering, crying when I had built up some tears again. May came to my door to sign her regrets. I thanked her, but I didn't want to be consoled, even by her. I was still quite bitter and angry. Later, Aunt Sara sent May up with a tray of food. I couldn't eat anything, but I let her stay with me and tried to explain and describe Mommy to her when she asked me to tell her about her.

Signing the thoughts, checking the book to be sure I was making the right gestures, made me think more about the incidents and the descriptions. For the moment it occupied my mind and my sorrow lifted a bit. I was exhausted and fell asleep early, curled up on the bed, still in my clothes. Aunt Sara stopped by to put a blanket
over me. Late in the night, I heard my door open softly and looked through my cloudy eyes to see Cary tiptoe in. He stood by the bed, gazing down at me for a few moments. Then he knelt down to kiss my cheek. I pretended to be in a dead sleep.

Morning light brought a moment of disbelief, a moment of hope. Perhaps it had all been a horrible nightmare after all. But here I was waking in my clothes. Reality would not be held back. I got undressed, showered, and changed. By the time I went downstairs, Cary and May had gone to school. The house was quiet. Even Aunt Sara was gone. I made myself some coffee and toast and then I sat on the porch. About a half hour later, I saw Aunt Sara coming down the street. She was nicely dressed.

“Good morning, dear. Have you had anything to eat?”

“Yes, Aunt Sara.”

“I was just at church, praying for Haille.”

“Thank you,” I said. I felt guilty not getting up and going with her.

“You can go with me tomorrow, if you like. It's a horrible tragedy,” she continued, “but I want you to know you have a home here forever, dear. We love you.”

“Thank you, Aunt Sara.”

“I stopped at Laura's grave on the way home,” she said with a sigh, “and told her the sad news. She was such a crutch for me whenever there was bad news. Laura had a way of filling me with hope, her smile, her loving, gentle smile. You should go to her grave and pray. You'll be comforted.”

“Maybe I will,” I said. That pleased her.

“Come in whenever you want, talk whenever you want,” she said. I nodded and she went into the house.

I was on the porch when Cary and May returned from school. May started running the moment she spotted me. We hugged and she signed stories about her day, showing me a paper with stars all over it.

When she went in to change, Cary sat on the steps and
told me about school, how everyone had heard the news. “All your teachers send regards and told me to tell you not to worry about your exams. They'll provide makeups.”

“I'll take my exams on time,” I said. “I don't need to make extra work for them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He thought a moment and then smiled. “I was really surprised by how many kids came over to me to ask about you this afternoon, once the news had spread. You're more popular than you think. I bet you could have run for senior class president and gotten elected, instead of that blowfish, Betty Hargate.”

“Somehow, that doesn't seem too important right now.”

“Yeah, I know.” After a moment he said, “My father says the funeral will be Saturday. Your mother's—your mother will be back here by then.”

I turned away and then I got up.

“Where are you going?” he asked, concerned.

“Just for a walk on the beach.”

“Want company?”

“Not right now,” I said. I threw him a smile and walked away.

It seemed as if the terns were following me, circling overhead. Against the horizon, I saw a cargo ship heading south. The ocean was calming, the tide more gentle than I had ever seen it. I walked close enough so my bare feet would be washed by the tip of the waves. The cool water felt wonderful, like some magic balm.

One of my science teachers told me that scientists believe all life came from the ocean and that was why we were all fascinated by it, drawn to it. Somehow, the sound of the surf, the feel of the spray on my face, the sharp smell of the salt air in my nostrils, and the freshness of it filling my lungs was comforting. A thousand sympathy cards, a thousand mourners in church,
dozens of sermons, and hours of organ music couldn't bring any more consolation than the cry of the terns and the sight of the seemingly endless blue water. It revived me and gave me the strength to do battle with my own sadness.

The funeral was two days later. The church service for Mommy's funeral was long and very impersonal. Of course the casket was closed. The minister barely mentioned her name. Because she was a member of the Logan family, the church was filled to capacity. Grandma Olivia, regal as ever, ran the service with a nod of her head, a turn of her eyes, the lifting of her hand. Cars were drawn up instantly and the procession moved on to the cemetery. There, beside Grandma Olivia's father and mother, my mother's remains were laid. The minister said his words and pressed my hands. I was in a fog most of the time, but when I turned away from the grave, I saw Kenneth Childs off to the side watching. He wore a dark blue sports jacket and a pair of slacks. He actually looked rather handsome. His father, the judge, had been at Grandma Olivia's side throughout the funeral.

Cary was as surprised as I was to see Kenneth attending, even if he stood apart from the party of mourners. He left before I could say anything to him.

I went back to school the following Monday to take my finals. All of my teachers were sympathetic, but I asked for no special treatment. Studying helped take my mind off the tragedy. Cary worked hard to prepare for his exams as well. The day after they ended, Cary, Aunt Sara, May, and even Uncle Jacob surprised me at breakfast.

It was my birthday. I had vaguely thought about it but between studying and taking exams and all the tragedy, the event didn't have any meaning or joy for me. Somehow, they remembered and there were presents waiting for me at the breakfast table. I opened May's first. It was a tape recorder. She explained how she picked it out by herself and paid for it with her own
money. She said she wanted me to tape myself practicing on the fiddle and singing. I thought it was amazing that someone so young would think so selflessly of those around her. She was truly like a little angel. I kissed and hugged her.

Aunt Sara and Uncle Jacob had bought me two gifts. One was a gold dress watch and the other was a pretty white cotton sundress with pastel embroidery trim. The hem was at least five inches above the knee. I was quite surprised, but Aunt Sara explained she had asked the shop owner for something fashionable and then had convinced Uncle Jacob it was proper and nice and something Laura would have loved.

Cary whispered that he had my gift on the sailboat.

“Taking you sailing today is my first gift,” he explained. After breakfast, that was exactly where we went. He made it all look easy, and in minutes we were riding the waves, both of us screaming at the spray and laughing at the fish we saw jumping out of the water. When we settled into a calm for a few moments, he handed me a small, gift-wrapped box. I opened it to find an I.D. bracelet. On each side of the inscription, Melody, was a musical note.

“Look on the back,” he said and I turned it over.

May there always be wind in your sails. Love, Cary

“This is beautiful, Cary. Thank you,” I said and leaned over to give him a kiss on his cheek, but just as I did, he turned his head and my kiss fell on his lips. He smiled.

“Happy birthday, Melody,” he said.

I sat back, stunned. I put on my I.D. bracelet and we continued our wonderful sail.

As we walked up from the beach later in the afternoon, I saw Cary squint and then I heard him say, “I'll be damned.”

I gazed toward the house.

“What?”

“Kenneth Childs's jeep is in our driveway,” he said. We glanced at each other and quickened our pace. When we reached the house, we hurried inside to find Kenneth sitting in the living room with Uncle Jacob and Aunt Sara.

“Well now, how was the sailing?” Uncle Jacob asked quickly.

“It was good, Dad,” Cary said. We both looked at Kenneth, who sat with his legs crossed. He wore a light brown safari jacket and khaki pants with sneakers, no socks. “Well, you two know Kenneth Childs, apparently. You've visited him, I discover.”

“Aye,” Cary said. He nodded at Kenneth, who was concentrating on me. My heart was thumping.

“Hello,” I said.

“I didn't know today was your birthday,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Kenneth has come with a proposal. Seems you told him you weren't doing much this summer, Melody.”

“I had plans, but they have changed.”

Kenneth didn't smile. Instead, his eyes darkened.

“I've decided I need an assistant,” he said, “to help with the slave work, do odd jobs around the house and the studio, take Ulysses for walks,” he added with a smile. “Naturally, I would like someone who has an appreciation for art and understands a little about my needs.”

“Oh,” I said. I glanced at Uncle Jacob, who looked very satisfied with himself.

“It's a trip to get out to my place, I know. But I get up early every morning to do my shopping. Beat the tourists,” he added looking at Uncle Jacob, who nodded. “I could swing by and pick you up. Of course, I would see to it that you were brought home.”

“Well?” Uncle Jacob said.

“I guess . . .” I looked at Cary, who looked even more amazed than I felt. “Sure,” I said. “I'd like that.”

“Okay. Jacob and I have settled on a salary we both feel is fair,” Kenneth said.

“I think you should discuss that with me,” I blurted.

Uncle Jacob lost his self-satisfied expression and Kenneth smiled.

“Absolutely. I was thinking of a hundred a week. And food of course,” he said. “Is that fair?”

“Yes, it is,” I said not really knowing if it was or not, but happy I had taken control of my life.

“Then, it's settled. You can start right after the last day of school. Oh,” he said standing, “you can bring your fiddle along. Ulysses likes music.”

He started out, Uncle Jacob following. Cary and I gazed at each other with surprise again and then I looked at Aunt Sara who seemed confused as she stared at me. It was as if she had discovered I wasn't the person she had thought I was. It gave me a chill. I tried smiling at her. She smiled back, and then I offered to help with dinner. But it was to be a special dinner because of my birthday: she wanted to do it all herself.

We had lobster and shrimp, wonderful home fries and mixed vegetables, Portuguese bread and a chocolate birthday cake. May helped blow out the candles and sang along with everyone else. I thanked them all. Even Uncle Jacob looked calmer, softer. How complex and confused all the people in my life now had become, I thought.

Cary pleaded with me to play the fiddle and finally I gave in. I brought it down and played for them. Afterwards I went outside for a walk with Cary. The stars blazed above, barely a wisp of a cloud to block their majestic beauty.

“Why do you think Kenneth's done this?” I asked him.

“It's probably the easiest way he knows to get to know you and to eventually tell you the truth,” Cary said. “I'll come by as much as I can to see if everything's all right.”