Mother Lode (38 page)

“Don’t
bray
, Ma!”

She reached up and slapped him sharply
across the face.

He rose to go upstairs. “You don’t own
me.”

Chapter 28

That August even the breeze felt like a
blast from a smelting furnace. Jorie’d promised Helena he’d bring
Eliza back for another visit, but the real reason he wanted to go
was he was hoping Helena would have more information for him. This
time he’d sent word so she’d be expecting them.

When they arrived, Helena swung Eliza around as the
child squealed with delight. “There’s my darlin’ girl.”

“Daniel’s here today. Himself ’ll be right
pleased to meet you.”

Her husband walked down the steps. “So this
is the lass you’ve been weepin’ o’er these many months. And here be
the lad I been hearin’ about for thirty years or more.”

Jorie blushed.

“Don’t recall a day as hot as this in ten
year, do you? Must be the deevil heatin’ up his furnaces to remind
us what waits us below.”

“Oh, don’t be talking,” Helena laughed.

“It’s a cool drink we’ll be needing. I
reckon the lad is old enough to have a draft of cider.”

Helena left to fix the refreshments, Eliza
on her heels.

Daniel turned to Jorie. “Is it still working
with the type-setting you’re doing, or have you moved up to writing
the whole paper now?”

Jorie smiled. “A little of both. I sneak in
a piece now and then.”

Helena brought in their drinks, and after a
bit she gave Daniel a look and a nudge. He drained his glass and
said there was something down at the pond he wanted to show
Eliza.

Helena and Jorie sat on the porch swing. “I
told him you might be wanting a bit of a chat, and would he take
the child to see the polliwogs.” She dabbed the perspiration on her
neck away with a large handkerchief. “Has she forgotten me, Jorie,
or does she miss me still?”

“She misses you, Helena.” He brushed the
mosquito buzzing near Helena’s neck away.

Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. “I love
that little lassie. You too, mind, when you were a little lad.
Though in your case you were so filled with your mum’s love, there
wasn’t much space for me in your heart. But poor little Eliza, she
was empty, she was, and had all the room in the world for me.”

She blew her nose loudly. Jorie felt like
doing the same.

“I miss her somethin’ fierce. I couldn’t
have any of my own, not after . . . I lost the one. Your little
sister was the same to me as if I’d born her.”

Jorie let a silence fall between them, while
the mosquitoes, as thick in summer as snow in the winter, buzzed
around them.

Then he said, “It’s a nice home you have
here, Helena. I’m glad providence was good to you.”

“Providence, is it! Your father, that’s who
it was.”

He didn’t think he’d heard right, and stared
at her, dumbfounded.

“It’s just as amazed we were,” she smiled.
“Begod and bejasus, we never would have dreamed in a million year,
your pa would be so generous.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Nor did we. Shortly after the will was
read, we was notified that Mr. Radcliff had left me a tidy bit.
‘For her long and faithful service to the family’ is what it
said.”

She looked up with pride. “What do you think
of that, lad?”

“Splendid,” was all he could say.

“How else did you think we got this place?”
She fanned herself with her handkerchief. “It weren’t the
leprechauns that brought the bag ‘o gold, believe you me.” She sat
rocking, musing.

“Pa lost everything, you know. His stock
failed.” He hoped to get Helena to open up some more.

“Failed is it? Like the sun fails to set.
No, lad, you got that all wrong. Your father died a rich man, he
did.”

“My mother, we . . .we don’t have anything,
except what I earn. That’s why I have to stay home.”

“Is it now? Is it indeed?”

He thought she looked angry, dabbing at the
perspiration on her forehead.

“You’re stayin’ home because that’s where
your ma wants you. And that’s the long and short of it, lad.”

“No, Helena, I’m sorry, you’re mistaken.
Perhaps he thought he had money when he wrote the will, but there
was nothing. Mother took all the stock certificates to the lawyer,
and they’re worthless.”

Helena just shook her head, and watched him
carefully. “Maybe you’ve heard enough for one day.”

“No. Go on. Please.”

“Well, this much I’ll tell you. One day when your ma
was out your pa asked me to witness the will he’d written. ‘Read it
first,’ says he to me, ‘before you sign it.’ ‘I can’t read, not
that kind of fancy language,’ says I. ‘Then I’ll read it to you,’
says he, and he did. He said something about feeling bad he hadn’t
done more for us in our Hour of Need, he did. That was when Daniel
lost his arm in the mine, and I was at such sixes and sevens about
it, I lost the baby I was carrying. Oh, such a time was that.
Anyway, he said he wanted to make it up to us. Saints be with us,
you could have blown me over. Of course, I had no idea it would be
comin’ to us so soon, or so much, God save us all. But it weren’t
more ‘n three weeks later he took sick and died.”

“I see,” said Jorie, but he didn’t see at all.

“And as for you, lad, I’m sure you know your
brothers got a sum when they turned eighteen—mostly company stock.
But yer father wanted you to get yer education. That’s what himself
said to me. And it was right there in the will that you would get
your sum in cash when you turned to the age of eighteen.”

“Yes, Mother says that money is intact.”

Helena crossed herself. “I should hope
so.”

“But the rest of it — maybe he didn’t know
his stock was worthless.”

“Believe what you like, lad. Believe in the
faeries, if it suits you, and put milk out for ‘em so they won’t
take yer firstborn, like we did in the ole country.”

His head was in a swim. What could have
happened to the money? Who was he to believe?

“Helena, would you mind looking after Eliza
for awhile?”

“Mind! It would be all the saints blessing
me at once!”

He ran along the dirt roads all the way to
the lawyer’s office, stirring up a cloud of dust which lodged on
his sweat covered skin. He prayed he wouldn’t be too late; he was
determined to ferret out the truth.

He had met Mr. Wilson a few times at the
house. The lawyer received him warmly.

“I was just closing up, lad. But come in,
come in.”

“I’m sorry to keep you, but it’s
important.”

“That’s all right. How are you, and how’re
you doing down at the University?”

He was out of breath, and the sweat was
pouring down his back. “I’m not in school, Mr. Wilson.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What can I do for
you?”

Jorie was so afraid he was out of line; he
had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep them from
shaking.

“I wonder if I might see a copy of my
father’s will,” he said as strongly as he could.

“I don’t see why not. I was surprised you
weren’t at the reading. Your brothers were there.”

When was that? Why hadn’t he been told?

“I, I didn’t know about it.”

Mr. Wilson raised his eyebrows. “That’s
strange. I thought perhaps you’d gone below to the college.”

Jorie shook his head.

“How old are you, lad?”

“Not quite eighteen.”

“Well, that could explain it, I suppose.
Being a minor, your mother may have decided not to include you.
That was her prerogative, of course.”

Mr. Wilson fished around in his files and
finally produced a folded legal document.

“I can’t let you take it, but you’re welcome
to come back tomorrow and read it.”

“Did my father leave me anything?”

“Oh, yes. Same as your brothers, let’s see
here.”

“Mr. Wilson, sir, do you know, at the time
of his death, if there were actually funds available, to be
dispersed as stated in the will?”

“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Did he leave my mother enough to live
on?”

“If she lives to be one hundred.”

Jorie thought his heart would surely give
out. “Are you certain?”

“I am. His stock, you see, is doing very
well.”

Jorie left the lawyer’s office in a tear,
determined to confront his mother. He ran through town, dodging
crowds. Why were there so many people choking the walks and
streets? Then he heard it—the sound of drums and horns. It was the
circus parade coming right down Hancock Street! To avoid them he
cut over to Quincy. After three blocks, thinking he’d outrun them
by now, he darted up Reservation Street back to Hancock. But they
were thicker than ever here. As the hot August dust choked him with
its unrelenting blast he bolted through and around bystanders and
participants alike, colliding with a clown, practically trampled by
the elephant.

Finally reaching the house, he looked wildly
about for his mother, first on the ground floor, then upstairs. He
burst into her room, but she wasn’t there. Retracing his steps he
caught sight her in his sister’s room.

She was on the bed, with only a towel
covering her.

He bellowed, “What are you doing in Eliza’s
room?”

“What’s wrong with you? It’s the coolest
room in the house.”

“Get up! You’ve no right in here!” he
panted.

“Of course I have. The whole house is
mine!”

“Get out! Where are your clothes?”

She looked frightened. “I’ve just had my
bath.”

“I said, ‘Get out!’”

She rose, grasping the towel in front of
her. “Jorie! Are you mad?”

“Everything, it was all a lie! You don’t
need my money — you’ve enough to last forever! “

She trembled, and for a moment he thought
she might faint.

She stammered, “I had to tell you that to
keep you here. Please try to understand, Jorie.”

He grabbed her arms and the towel fell to
the floor. She tried to pick it up and he kicked it aside.

“Jorie, let go of me!”

He lifted an arm and held it in contracted
force ready to strike; finally he willed it to his side, advancing
toward her.

“Deceit! That’s all it’s been. Lies,
schemes, deception! Have you ever been honest about anything?” He
shook her, pushing her backwards, as he spoke. “Have you?”

“Do you think I enjoyed lying to you? I had
no choice!”

She backed into the rocking horse, then fell
on it. The picture of his mother’s naked body on Eliza’s rocking
horse was macabre. He pulled her away from it, and pushed her on
the bed. She grabbed him, causing him to lose his balance and fall
on top of her.

She tried to hold him there. “Jorie, I love
you! More than anything! You know that! Come to me, my
precious.”

Her body twisted against his. Something
inside his head was ringing and spinning. Like a snake, her arms
coiled around him drawing his head down to her. If he stayed a
moment longer the unthinkable would happen.

Suddenly, the ringing stopped and he felt a
chord snap. The picture shifted slightly, and he saw her— not a
goddess of beauty and power, but a desperate, pathetic human being
resorting to anything to get her way. As she grasped him ever more
tightly, he forcibly uncoupled from her arms and rose.

He picked up her towel and tossed it to her.
“Get dressed and get out of this room.”

His clothes were wet through with sweat.
Exhausted, he went to the back of the house, dipped a bucket in the
rain barrel and dumped it over his head. The coolness helped him
collect his thoughts.

One thing at a time. Eliza. Yes, she was
still at Helena’s. He must go get her. Thank God she hadn’t been
home to witness the terrible debacle in her bedroom.

He used the long walk to
try to piece together his mother’s deception. Acting, it was all
play-acting. The crying over the table with the
worthless
stock certificates. The
china she’d
traded
to get the player piano. How she made as though they’d barely
have enough to eat if he didn’t forfeit
all
of his salary. And her
engagement to Mr. Markel, while keeping him on the hook. The more
he remembered the sicker he got until half way across town he threw
up in the ditch.

When he finally reached Helena’s street, he
could see her on the walk waiting for him.

Eliza ran up to him. “Where were you,
Jawie?”

“Daniel, take the child for another walk,
will you?”

They left with a jar to collect some
polliwogs.

“Tell me lad, what happened to you. Saints
be with us, you’ve a face on you like the deevil drug you over hot
coals, and back again.”

Only inarticulate noises came out. Finally,
the dam broke.

“That’s it, lad. Let it out. Let it all out.
Faith and Begorrah, you’ve had a fright.”

Much of it — the image of his naked mother,
his shame, he couldn’t tell her.

Finally he managed to say, “She lied to me,
Helena. She fabricated all those stories about having no money just
to keep me home.”

“I t’ought as much. Aye.”

“She admitted—it was to keep me home.”

“I knew she’d stop you from going one way or
the other. It wasn’t my business to inquire how.”

The tears streamed down
his face. “She
lied
to me! Everything she preached about trust and honesty — it
was all a deception with her.”

She looked at him sympathetically. “I think
you just grew up today.”

He was quiet finally, and Helena brought him
a cup of cold tea. When he’d composed himself they walked down to
the pond to fetch Eliza. She showed him the polliwogs in the
jar.

“Look at my ‘wogs, Jawie. They’re going to
turn into frogs!”