Amazing Grace (6 page)

He walks over, slaps my face, and leaves the room. Iris kneels down by my cot.

“You don't want to bring attention to yourself. Try to be invisible.”

That man lost my mother and sister. I'm going to make him pay.

I do what everyone wants me to do without complaint. I don't talk back, I do my chores, I wave my arms and sing to Jesus. I even smile at the man when it's required, like the time some people come to take a tour of our camp. They carry clipboards and I notice the man is nervous. These clipboard people must be important if the master is in a sweat, so I spy on them. They're very nice. One lady even sees me out of the corner of her eye and motions me forward. The man is beside her.

“Hello dear. What's your name?”

The man puts his arm around my shoulder. “This is Grace. Say hello, Grace.”

“Hello.”

“Do you like living here, Grace?”

“Oh, yes. I have a tree house.”

She smiles. “Isn't that nice?”

“I built it for her,” the man says as he squeezes me. “Our Grace loves to hang out in trees!”

They move on and I can see the man is relieved that I kept my trap shut. I was right. These people are important. Before they leave I copy down their licence plate numbers. Helen's brother told me cops collect stuff like that.

While I pretend to be happy and eat my food and do my homework, the whole time I make plans. They aren't plans that make sense, but one day I'll be ready to use them. My mama said if something didn't feel right, I need to trust myself.

And everything about the man tells me he's dangerous. I don't know why the adults here don't see it. A lot of the kids see it, like the boys who are punished in the barn, or the girls who shrink from the master when he comes too close.

But now I notice that even the other men who live here don't dare talk back to him. What does he do to make grown men keep their heads down?

Slowly over the months, I take important things to the bog. I bury my mother's duffel bag at the edge of the rocks we sat behind so long ago. The licence plate numbers go there. A few cans of food and water bottles I've managed to sneak out of the kitchen are stashed there. Then I collect dark clothes, a blanket, some grocery bags. Once the man asked me where I was going with a pot and I told him I was playing house in the tree fort. He believed me. I feel bad about stealing another girl's running shoes, but they are much better than mine.

And so these things wait. And I watch.

I see the man caressing the hair of girls who wear it long and loose, so I sneak into the kitchen, grab a pair of scissors, and hack my hair off. Iris is furious with me and the girls say I look stupid, but I don't care. Now I've even stopped wearing dresses, which is a constant fight with the other mothers, but no matter how many slap me in frustration, looking like a boy makes me feel better.

But nothing happens. I can't make anything happen. The adults keep their schedule and we're not allowed outside the gates. Sometimes I see a yellow school bus go by if I'm up in my tree house and I wonder what it would be like to be those kids who get to drive on a bus. It looks fun and free.

I'm so lonely that I forget to smile. But then I find a cat, a very skinny black and white cat, and I ask Iris if I can keep it.

“Cats belong in a barn.”

So now I sleep in the barn. No one knows I'm here. Well, Iris knows, but she doesn't stop me. The cat and I are best friends. I call him Buddy and I won't let anyone near him. One day the man watches me play with the cat and that makes my stomach knot so tightly I run into the woods and go to the bog. Buddy and I try to catch butterflies while we sit on the rock.

Three years later, I'm twelve, and I almost forget what my mother and sister look like. They didn't want me so I don't want them anymore. I'm not running away now; I'm in charge of the chickens and I'm happy about that. Helen and I are still friends and I like when the teacher talks about books and geography. The cook is even teaching me how to make bread. I'm also knitting. I made a sweater for Buddy but he doesn't like wearing it, so I gave it to Helen's little sister to put on her doll.

Helen and I still go to the tree house but mostly we just talk there and laugh. Sometimes the women bring back comic books from the store and we read them and drink Tang. We hang from the branches with our legs and look at the world upside down. Iris comes running over and tells me to get inside. I think I'm in trouble, but no. She just looks in Helen's closet and takes out one of her bras.

“You're becoming a woman now,” Iris says. “Your breasts are growing and we have to cover them up.”

“Why?”

“To avoid temptation.”

“What will I be tempted to do if I leave them hanging out?”

Iris looks at the ceiling. “Grace, you'd try the patience of a saint. Now tell me, have you started bleeding yet?”

I know what she means. The older girls told me about it, and Helen got hers months ago—I wasn't frightened when it first happened to me. But I'm private and everyone doesn't need to know my business.

“Not really.”

“When it happens, come to me and I'll give you some rags.”

I know how to collect rags. Iris is becoming entirely too bossy.

And then the man shows up in the barn one hot summer night. I see his shadow in the doorway. I know right away he's come for me. I grab Buddy and burrow under the hay, because I can't get out without him seeing me. He's going to hear my heart thumping. It will lead him right to me. He comes closer and says very softly, “Grace. Grace, come to me. I can see you.”

I don't think he can see me but I don't know for sure. Buddy is wiggling and I'm so afraid to lose him that I jump up out of the hay and run. But the man doesn't stop me. All he does is grab the cat right out of my arms.

“NO. Give me my cat.”

The man holds Buddy by the back of his neck.

“You're hurting him! Let him go.”

“I'll let him go as soon as you stop shouting.”

I close my mouth and watch Buddy dangling off the floor, helpless and frightened. I feel my body get hot, so hot that I'm burning up.

So this is hell. This is where hell lives. Within.

But I'm not losing the only family I have left.

“Do what you want. Just let Buddy go.”

And that's the night he married me.

I think all the women who live here know exactly what's going on. I may not be the best disciple Jesus ever had, but I know that this isn't right. There is no love between the man and I, no matter how much he moans that he loves me. If he loved me, he wouldn't hurt Buddy. And I tell him if he ever picks Buddy up like that again, I'll stab him with a pitchfork. He laughs and shakes a finger at me. “Don't make me mad.”

Now I have to pretend to like everyone again. The cook who bakes with me, the teacher who teaches me, Iris who makes sure I have hand-me-downs and the occasional bag of treats. The adults are in on this. All these women run around and tell me to be modest and obedient and stay invisible, like that's going to protect me, but they know the man is going to come and get all the girls at some point. They pretend they care but they don't. And now the red-haired man wants to marry me.

I have to think of a way to make them all pay.

First I stop eating and hope someone notices, but they don't really. There are so many of us that we're easy to overlook. The mothers pay attention to their own kids. Iris does the best she can but she has seven to look after. All it does is make me feel weak, and I need to be strong. So then I eat a lot, so much that even the man notices. He pinches the skin on my stomach.

“You're getting porky. I don't like fat girls.”

Perfect. I'll get so fat he'll have to roll me everywhere, but as hard as I try, I can't eat enough to get any bigger. I think it's because I'm taller and the fat seems to be smoothing out over my bones. So that idea doesn't work.

But setting the barn on fire does.

I make sure the chickens and cats and our two goats are all outside when I light the match and hold it against the straw. It's the spot where the man first touched me. I'm burning him in those flames. I want him dead. I almost forget to leave but sneak out before anyone smells or sees smoke. I run to the treehouse to watch.

Deep down I know it's a sin to destroy something, but I only need to get the attention of strangers, hopefully the fire department. At some point I'll grab one of them and make them take me out of here. Me and Buddy.

But I didn't count on the wind, or remember that the summer was a dry one. The crispy October leaves fly though the air like tiny lanterns spreading out in the late afternoon sky. They fuel the flames that get bigger by the minute. Soon everything is on fire. People scream and run around, carrying things out of the houses. The sirens I hear way off come closer and closer. All the men have to open the gates to let in the fire trucks and policemen. I want to watch it all but I've forgotten something. Mom's duffel bag has my grandmother's address and phone number on it. That's all I have left that ties me to anyone. I know Buddy isn't going to like it, but I stuff him in a burlap bag I keep in the tree house and put him over my shoulder. A fireman sees me come down the ladder and hollers for me to get away from the trees, but I run as fast as I can into the woods to get the duffel bag, Buddy occasionally scratching me through the burlap. I know he doesn't mean it.

There are voices behind me and one of them is the man's voice. The devil is coming after me. I run so hard my chest might explode. I'm tearing through the woods, stumbling on the wet ground and brushing branches out of the way.

I hear my mama's voice. “Over here!”

I hide behind the outcropping of rock, and frantically dig in the mud to get the duffel bag.

“Is he still out there, Mama?”

“Stay very quiet.”

That's hard to do because I'm breathing too hard. People call my name. “Grace! Grace!”

The man screams, “Get out here now, Grace!”

I grab the duffel bag, stand up and scream back. “I'm Amazing!”

There are two firemen with the man and when they see me cut up and bloodied by the branches and filthy with mud, they look concerned. Like they're actually seeing me.

I know what to do. I point at the man. “He married me. You have to get me out of here! Please help me!”

The firemen both turn at the same time to look at the man.

“Why, you little bitch!” The man lunges at me but one fireman holds him back and the other steps towards me and picks me up in his big arms.

“I have to take my cat. He's in the bag.”

“You can take your cat. I've got you now.”

CHAPTER FIVE

NOW

I cannot go any further. By the time I come out of my story trance, the fire is out and it's dark outside.

“My god, it's so late. I'm sorry, we should go.”

“Are you kidding me? You're going to leave me hanging! What the heck happened?”

“That will have to be for another day. Fletcher will be worried.”

I rise from my chair and Melissa follows me. We fold up our blankets.

“Well, all I know is I hate that man! He's horrible. I hope you never saw him again.”

“There were others.”

Her mouth drops open. “Others?”

“I was young and alone, with no parent or family to protect me. That's when the devils crawl out of the sewer and wait for their chance to eat you alive.”

Her eyes moisten. “That's not fair. I don't think I want to hear this.”

“You don't. But you will. Just not right now.”

Melissa sidles up and puts her arms around me. “Poor Gee. I don't want to sound mean, but I think it's horrible that your mom and sister left you behind.”

I pat her back. “People are capable of anything.”

We close up the house and head back to the trailer. Melissa is quiet most of the way home, staring out at the dark through her side window. Maybe this was too much for her. But I can't stop now.

“I have an idea,” I eventually say. “Why don't you and I fix up the farmhouse while you're here? We can paint or move the furniture around. Just spruce it up so it will be ready if you do decide to come here for the summer.”

“Will you tell me what happened after the firemen arrived?”

“Yes, but I need about two good sleeps before I start again. I didn't realize how exhausting this was going to be.”

When we pull into the yard, I see Fletcher look out the kitchen window. That reminds me of something.

“Melissa, don't say anything to Fletcher about this. He knows some of the story, but he doesn't know the gory details. He's a big softie and it was a long time ago.”

“Maybe I'm a big softie, too.”

“No. You're not.”

We both laugh.

As soon as we enter the trailer, a menagerie of furry creatures come to greet us. Beulah does a good job yapping at the others to go to the back of the queue.

Fletcher's at the stove. “I made a meat loaf. Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” says Melissa. “She starved me all day.”

We talk about nothing in particular at supper. Melissa asks if she can call her father after she does the dishes, which is a nice surprise. Fletcher takes me aside. “You got a letter today in the mail.” He hands me the envelope. “I didn't recognize the return address.”

“Maybe this is it.”

“Fingers crossed.”

I go to my bedroom and shut the door. As I open the letter, my mouth is suddenly dry, and my heart thumps in my ears. I scan the letter quickly, looking for answers.

Dear Mrs. Willingdon,

I'm sorry to inform you
that I am not the Maria Fairchild you are looking for. Firstly, my name is Maria, not Ave Maria, and I am from England originally, although we did move to Guelph, Ontario, many years ago. I do not have a sister, only two brothers.

I'm sure you will be very disappointed, but I encourage you to keep looking, and I pray you find your sister someday.

Yours Truly,

Maria Fairchild

My hand drops the letter into my lap. It's always the same answer. Sorry, I am not your sister. Why do I get my hopes up after forty-eight years? It's ridiculous. Obviously my mother is long gone, unless she's still alive in her late eighties, but I doubt that. At the same time, something compels me to keep searching for Maria. I don't think she's dead, but I'm pretty sure she's forgotten all about me.

I get in the tub and scoop the bath water from the tap into my hands and throw it at my flushed and mottled face. That way I can pretend I'm not crying. I don't need anyone to hear that nonsense.

There's a soft knock at the door. It's Fletch. “You okay, Gracie?”

“Yeah. It wasn't her, but I'm all right. Just tell Melissa I'm going to bed.”

“Sure thing. Good night.”

I toss and turn until dawn, finally falling into a heavy sleep around five in the morning. When I open my eyes, the clock says 2:00 p.m.

“Holy macaroni!” I jump out of bed and open the door. “Anyone here?”

There's no answer. There's no animals here either. What the hell?

Once my bathrobe and slippers are on, I rush to the back door and open it, yelling, “Hello?”

There's no answer; now I'm really concerned. I put on my old billy boots and tramp outside, calling. Finally Daffy sticks his head out of the garage door.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, as if he's going to answer me. He sheepishly disappears back into the garage. Obviously something more important is going on.

When I finally cross the yard and look into the garage, there's Fletcher with his radio blaring, showing Melissa how to change a tire. The dogs and cats are watching this procedure as if it's fascinating. I suppose it is, in a way. I don't think Melissa would ever change a tire in New York.

She looks up at me, and her cheeks are flaming red from the cold, since Fletcher never shuts the garage door unless there's a blizzard outside. I have to smile. She looks like I remember her, eight years old, with a saucy grin.

“Look, Gee! If I ever get a car, I can change my own tires! This is so awesome!”

I shout over the music. “You guys want some lunch?”

“Okay!” they shout back, so off I go to whip something up. Beulah decides she's had enough of the cold weather and chases me back to the trailer.

The next few days I start making plans for the food drive and craft sale. Christmas is only three weeks away. Something Jon reminded me of when he called the night before.

“If this keeps up, she may not pass her semester. When are you bringing her home?”

“First you can't wait to get rid of her and now you're annoyed she's staying with me. Make up your mind.”

“You don't have to shout. I'm concerned.”

I take a deep breath. “I'm sorry, but at this point, I think I'm making progress, although she hasn't opened up about everything, and that's what I'm waiting for. She can always make up her courses. She's as bright as a button, just like you were.”

“Her mother comes home later this week. I think Melissa should be here, or Deanne will be furious with both of us.”

When I get off the phone I tell Melissa I have to go to the church hall and ask her to come with me, but she puts the kibosh on that. “I don't want to meet a bunch of old women. I think I want to go back to New York. I miss Dad.”

“Would you like to return to the farmhouse one more time before you leave? I can tell you the rest of the story.” Talk about bribery.

“Instead of cleaning the place up, would you make a fire with more of the apple wood? And can we bring hot chocolate?”

She thinks this is fun. I hope I have the strength to see this through.