Manroot (4 page)

From that night on, Katherine looked at the river with new eyes.
It was deceptive, narrow, swift, and now that she heard how many it had claimed with its sinkholes and whirlpools, she felt fear.

Chapter 3

Katherine sensed her father
’s restlessness; Jesse grew lazy in his work and she did what she could. They saved no money, as he took his pay on Saturday and did not return till late Sunday night. She hoped fiercely that he would not make them move on. She had grown comfortable, and for the first time in years she felt safe. She enjoyed the older woman’s brusque attention. She giggled with the maid, Sally, and listened to her stories of dancing and loving under the moon at Castlewood.

Sally, like her father, was lazy and often instead of cleaning the rooms Katherine would find her reading
True Confessions
.

Finished with her end of the hall, Katherine opened the door to Room 11 and found Sally comfortably stretched ou
t on the love seat. “Sshh! Don’t let the ole slave-driver know,” she cautioned. Katherine shut the door quietly and went over to the girl. Sally held up a magazine. “This story was sizzling, I can tell you. You should read it.”

Katherine took the magazine
that was offered, and Sally stretched like a lazy cat. “I guess my love life’s as exciting as those stories. Why, I bet I could write a couple.”

Katherine nodded and smiled, wondering if Sally
’s stories about all the men who were in love with her were really true.

“
Who do you like – from the guests, I mean?” Sally asked.

“
I don’t really know any of them.”

“
I didn’t mean you have to know ‘em, but we do learn a lot about them from their rooms – the tips, the ones that swat your fannie.”

“
No one’s ever done that to me,” Katherine said.

“
I guess not – you’re so stuck up. Come on, which one do you like? I’ll tell first,” Sally offered. She lay back on the sofa. “I bet you could guess anyway. I like Justin, you know the one, that traveling salesman, the real handsome one with the mustache. He gave me a bottle of perfume, free of charge.” Sally looked dreamy as she thought of him, and the magazines slipped to the floor. Her fingers caressed her cheek in a thoughtful way, remembering the touch of his hands.

“
Justin is so sophisticated. I like a man who knows his way around, and he does. Know what I mean?”

Katherine nodded, not knowing at all what she meant.
Sally continued, “I like his shaving stuff. Smells nice, he does, not like the farmhands around here stinkin’ of manure.” She closed her eyes remembering last night. “It’s something about his manner – cocky-like. He knows what women like to hear. He’s always goin’ on about my figure. He’s crazy about blonde hair. I told him mine’s natural…he thinks I should be in the pictures…maybe I should!” The thought of Justin created a dreamy look on her face and what she was thinking about now she kept private. Shortly she sat up and continued listing Justin’s attributes. “He dresses sharp – why, in that plaid suit he’s a regular Clark Gable. And that cute little curl fallin’ over his forehead just gets to me. He’s got a wink on him that melts me to jelly. Why, I’ve been mad as blazes at him, then he winks at me with those big brown eyes and I starts to giggle and we make up. He’s about the handsomest man I ever seen. That smooth dark skin and his hair shimmering with that hair tonic, and his mustache tickling me when we kiss.”

Katherine blushed a deep red.

“I’m lucky,” Sally murmured. “He’s telling me all the time how much he loves me. Now you’ve gotta tell. Who do you like? With all the men that come and go there must be somebody.”

Katherine tried denying it.

Oh, come on,” Sally coaxed. “Even if you haven’t done anything, there must be someone you’re sweet on, someone you daydream about. Truth is, I thought about Justin lots, way before we got together.”

Reaching up, Sally took Katherine
’s hand and pulled her down on the love seat next to her. “You gotta tell.”

Katherine enjoyed their silly talk.
She always felt warm and touched, as if they were sisters.

“
Well,” she gulped. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“
Liar, liar, pants on fire, sure you’ve thought about it! All girls are lookin’ to fall in love.”

The word
‘love’ made Katherine’s blush deepen. She felt hot and embarrassed, and she had to deny the word love. “Nothing to do with love,” she started haltingly, “but as far as men go, I think the Judge is the nicest.”

“
The Judge!” Sally squealed, holding her stomach as she giggled hysterically and finally rolled off the couch. “The Honorable Judge William Reardon!”

“
Ssh,” Katherine hushed her, instantly regretting her confidence.

Sally sat up.
“I’m not laughing at you, honey. You’ve got good taste. The Judge is a little old for you but there’s still fire under those ashes, I can tell you! Why, he’s traipsing them women from the eagle’s Nest up to his room at least every other weekend.”

“
I didn’t mean like that,” Katherine protested. “I mean, he seems a real gentleman. Anyway, he’s married.”

“
That don’t make no difference,” Sally scoffed. “Well, girl, you do have taste. He’s rich enough, the richest man in the county, and I guess he’s sort of handsome for an older man.” She stared at Katherine as if seeing her for the first time. “I bet he’d give you a tumble if you fixed yourself up a little.”

“
Oh Sally, stop it. You’re mixing up what I said…I just meant he’s nice.” But Katherine knew the other girl would be teasing her from now on.

“
I’m good with make-up and hairstyles – let me try something.”

“
All right, but this has nothing to do with what I said about the Judge,” Katherine insisted.

In her room Sally seated Katherine at the vanity table.
In minutes the room filled with the smell of pressed hair. She used the curling irons on Katherine’s auburn hair until it fluffed out around her face attractively. “Make-up – you need a little make-up.” Sally powdered and applied rouge and lipstick until Katherine seemed totally transformed. The older girl stepped back and surveyed her handiwork. “Not bad, not bad at all. You’d be a real knockout if you’d let me fix your eyebrows; they’re too thick.”

“
I don’t see anything wrong with them.”

“
Not stylish enough. I could pluck ‘em for you.”

“
No, no,” Katherine protested.

“
You really should think about it. Why, them movie stars shave their eyebrows right off, and draw them where they want ‘em.”

“
They do? Why would they do that?”

“
Cause it makes your eyes look bigger,” Sally announced. “God, you don’t know nothin’. How do you expect to get the Judge?”

This last statement was too much
for Katherine to bear and in a voice quite unlike her normal one she said sharply, “I don’t! I never said anything of the kind!”

Sally just laughed, aware of what such protest meant.
She stepped back again admiring her creation, then picked up an eyebrow pencil. “It’s a shame I can’t pluck them,” she shrugged, “but never mind!”

She dipped the mascara brush in the glass of water and rubbed it back and forth over the cake of mascara until satisfied.

“Now, look up towards the ceiling,” she instructed. Katherine blinked as the brush touched her lashes. “No, keep looking up, or you’ll smear it,” her friend warned. Katherine tried to do as she was told, but again and again the approaching brush made her flinch.

“
Oh well, I guess your lashes are dark enough,” Sally sighed, and taking the corner of her white apron, she spat on the edge and wiped away the streaks.

Then she stepped back, hands on hips, her head cocked to one side and said, “
I could have been a beautician, you know. My ma always said I had a talent for it. You can look now.”

Katherine swiveled the stool around and faced the mirror.
Before her sat a perfect stranger and she felt goose bumps rise on her neck. She wasn’t sure if this was due to Me Maw’s warnings about mirrors, or the fact that in the glass was a dark reflection so strange, so alien to her, that it was possible to believe that the mirror had stolen the real Katherine and had replaced her with this one. The face that stared back seemed like the ones she had seen in the magazines. Timidly, she raised her hand to touch the fluffy waves, soft as duck’s down. She pursed her lips, and they felt cool and slick as satin. Her heart began to race; she was afraid of this strange woman in the glass.

“
You’re a knockout, a true knockout!” Sally said softly, secretly amazed at the transformation she had wrought. As she looked at Katherine in the glass a thought stole in swiftly: ‘What about Justin?’ She shook her head and said aloud, “It’s too much of a change – maybe you shouldn’t.”

They heard Frieda
calling impatiently up the stairs. Katherine jumped up from the stool and tried smoothing her hair.

“
I’ll go,” Sally offered.

Grateful, Katherine slipped down to her room.
In the gloom she looked once again into the mirror, and the crack split her face in two, making it grotesque. She thought of the fun-house mirror that time when her father had taken her to a carnival in Topeka. She hadn’t liked the mirror then; she didn’t like looking in the mirror now.

She ran water in the sink, washed her hair
to smoothness again and scrubbed her face till it stung. The tangles in her hair made her eyes smart as she combed every strand straight. But the strange haunting face in the mirror stayed clearly etched in her mind’s eye.

When Katherine went to bed, stra
nge scents still clung to her; the tang of perfumed cosmetics was pleasant. She had trouble sleeping; now that she had mentioned to Sally that she thought the Judge was special, he came clearly into her mind. The tawny lock of unruly hair reminded her of the wheat-fields of Kansas. She pictured his clear blue-gray eyes; she thought of them as kind, honest eyes. Every impression she had had of him came clearly to her. She hugged these impressions close and finally she fell asleep and he came in the dream, smiling with stalks of wheat waving behind him in the brilliant noonday sun. She felt the warmth of a body beside hers. It was hard to separate the dream from the real sensation. A hand, hard and calloused, squeezed her breast. She was breathing hard…the dream, his face smiling, it didn’t make sense for the hand snaking up between her legs and the fingers like steel prying her apart was far from pleasant. The stench of stale whiskey overcame her like an ominous cloud. It was pushing at her, trying to enter, fingers hard as steel creating pain awakened her.

“
Mama Rose, be good to your daddy.” His voice was hoarse with passion.

Understanding descended.
“Papa! No, Papa, it’s me,” she screamed.

“
Call me your daddy, your big strong daddy.” His arms were forcing and twisting, pulling at her, his body thrust full up against her.

With her elbow she aimed for his Adam
’s apple, and she pushed with all her might. She heard him falling to the floor. She reached for the lamp and the room bloomed with light. He was lying there naked, his manhood full. He blinked up at her.

Katherine gathered her nightgown up tight around her, and cowered in the furthest corner of the bed.
She shivered. He hadn’t done it since they came here.

The light was between them
– it felt like a ray of protection. For months now she had been able to sleep soundly. It was over – it was behind them. No longer did she clench her teeth in her sleep, dreading his touch, his demons. In the woods, in the wheat-fields, when they slept rough…she never knew when he would fall on her drunkenly, hurting, always hurting her – the smell of whiskey making her faint, his rough fingers pinching her breasts, doing that – always doing that. When she was little it hurt so much that for days afterwards, the pain, when they walked, was unbearable.

“
No,” then she had begged. “Please don’t.” But he had whispered wetly in her ear, “It’s ‘cause I love you, baby.” She never understood why his loving her had to hurt.

It was after the time in
Kansas, in the wheat-fields, when she had been so sick, curled up, her stomach on fire with pain, followed by some sort of magical release, when her period came on strong and the blood flowed. Then he had looked scared and worried, and by the moonlight, she saw him scratching at the earth, burying something. She was so very tired, she slept.

After that night, he never climbed on again, pushing and pushing.
It was then he made her do the other thing. He had said, “I’m your father. If you love me, you’ll do as I say.” She couldn’t refuse, for he was her daddy – and she must love him, for she had no one else.

Now, he rose drunkenly, fell into bed, and covered himself.
It was the woman. She could tell the woman, he thought.

Katherine turned out the light and crawled b
ack under the bedclothes, listening to the sound of him pulling at himself. She could not sleep until she heard his loud snores.