Nobody Knows Your Secret (3 page)

“
H
adley
,I need your help,” said Virgie Winthrop, standing in Hadley’s front doorway.

“What is it, Virgie?” Hadley asked. “I’ll do whatever I can, you know that. I’m really sorry for your loss. Have y’all finished the arrangements for Kyle’s funeral?”

“Not yet,” Virgie said. “We’re waiting for Bowey Hill to release his body back to us. Thanks. ’Bout all anybody can do for us is pray.”

“Well, I’ve been doing that,” Hadley said. “What do you need?”

“I know you and Kyle had that run-in, a couple of years back. If you say no, I won’t blame you. He stole from you. Ain’t no use sugar-coatin’ the truth. ’At dope turned that boy inside out. He started out sweet ’n’ good natured, ’en he turned into a rattler. I loved ’im. He was blood. But I shorely didn’t like ’im. Still, I’m an old woman, and I need peace.”

What does Virgie want? Hadley hated to hear the rest of this conversation. Kyle Winthrop had broken into her garage, stolen lots of Harry’s tools. He did it to buy more drugs, and the only reason Hadley had recovered some of the stolen items at all was because he’d had engraved his name on the things.

“I hate to ask, Hadley, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t help me. I was there that day at the bazaar. I was at the library when you got Rayna to confess to killing Eustian. You been away to school, Hadley.' You’re smart. I’ve always knowed that.”

“Oh, Virgie, that was just dumb luck,” Hadley said.

“Dumb luck ain’t got nuthin’ to do with it. You are good people. You he’p anybody. You’re from good-hearted stock, Hadley Pell, ’n’ you knowed it.

“I knowed what Kyle was. He weren’t good fer nuthin’. Ruint. ’At dope took over his whole life. But even if he weren’t worth a plug nickel, I still need to know who done '’im in like ’at. Bill’s a good man. I knowed he’s kin, but he’s gotta sheriff this whole county.

“I need somebody who kin put a bead on this problem and figgur it out. I need a good brain on it like you got. Kyle was my blood, ’n’ a dawg deserved better’n what he got.”

“Virgie, I can’t go messin’ into a police matter,” Hadley said.

“I ain’t askin’ ya to git into no trouble. But you’re out ’n’ about. You hear things. All I’m askin’ is if you hear somepin’ that clicks ’em cogs in that head a yourn, let me know, okay?”

“All right,” Hadley said. “I’ll be sure to keep my ears open, Virgie.”

“That’s all I’m askin’. Maybe you kin h’ep, maybe not, but at least you’re tryin’. That’s all this old lady kin ask from a body. And thanks, Hadley. You’re a good friend.”

What in the world have I done? Hadley wondered.

She couldn’t trouble herself too much. She was just helping a neighbor. That’s how it was in these hills. Not like a big city where nobody wants to know anything about anybody. Strangers or family. In the mountains, folks helped you out. It didn’t matter who you were.

“Onus,” Hadley said, after Virgie had left. “I got to go clean out a house so gaumed up, you may not see me for weeks.”

Onus meowed.

“Don’t worry, old bird. I’m just fooling. I’ll be home in time to get your cat food dish filled come suppertime. You keep a watch on things while I’m gone, you hear. Don’t let any hooligans in here. I’m locking the door, just to be safe. Beanie and I may be late, so don’t worry.”

Onus silently slid over to Hadley and rubbed against her leg.

“Oh, pretty boy. Afraid I’ll stray too far. Thanks for marking me as yours, Onus. I’m sure that no self-respecting cat will dare to come up to me today. I’m yours, big fella, and now that you’ve scent-marked me, I won’t forget it.”

As Hadley locked the door, she smiled. Onus’ scent would be like perfume. She was certain that by the end of the day that sweating like horses would be a perfect description for both her and her friend, Beanie.

So, a little kitty musk didn’t hurt a thing.

* * *

K
yle Winthrop grew
up on welfare and prescription pain pills. He was small for his age and prone to fights. He didn’t do well in school. Kids picked on him. His ears stuck out. The biggest thing about him were his feet, and when the kids found out his toes were webbed, poor Kyle was the butt of every joke and prank for years. As a small boy, Kyle was starved for attention. Good or bad attention. It didn’t matter to the child. Adrenaline was Kyle’s first high. He would do any crazy stunt, no matter how dangerous, just to have eyeballs focused on him.

His mother, Claire, always had prescription bottles lying about the house after the accident. Kyle stole his first pills from her at age nine. How could he not help but get into trouble? Virgie brooded. How different might her life had been if Cleve hadn’t been dead set they go to that dang amusement park! But that was so long ago. Claire had been a child then.

It was Claire’s 15th birthday. Virgie noted her daughter, like so many children of the Appalachians, had outgrown that stick-skinny, poor-white-trash look that so many of the children reared on too little food seemed to have. Claire was blossoming into a fine girl. She was going to be a looker, Virgie could tell. Cleve called in sick from the mine that day.

“You’ll lose your job, Cleve” Virgie had warned. “They ain’t gonna put up with yer work brickle ways. You call out at the drop of a hat. Loafin’ here at home more ’n you are at the mine.”

“You hush your yap,” Cleve yelled. It was barely nine, and Cleve was already on his fourth beer. “That coal will be there waiting for me to blast it out, tomorrow. Today’s my little girl’s birthday. We gonna celebrate, and we gonna do it up right.”

Virgie already knew what Cleve had in mind. MEGA Mountain Funland Park. It was all Cleve had talked about for the last several days. Claire was not enthusiastic to go. Virgie and she had planned to spend the day baking her birthday cake, but because Cleve would not let the idea drop, Virgie had bought her a plain, small store-bought cake at Pixies.

“Come on, Virgie,” Cleve said. “You drive. I got me a nice, cold brew I wanna nurse on the way over.”

“Claire!” Virgie yelled out the back door. “Put yer hand to the plow, Claire. Your daddy’s rarin’ to go!”

Claire came running up from the barn. She had a sick calf penned in a stall.

“I’m coming, Mama,” Claire said.

“Run a brush through your hair, hon. Get the straw out. We don’t want them to think we ain’t never been nowheres.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They all packed into the rusty, old station wagon. Virgie cranked the car. The belts whined, but the motor turned over. Cleve let out a big belch and nursed his beer.

“We gonna have us a fine time, baby girl,” he said, wearing the stupid grin he always wore when he was on a bender.

At least, Virgie thought, Cleve’s a happy drunk at the moment. Virgie drove slowly, carefully. This was her first time out to the amusement park. In fact, although the park had been opened for several years, it was the first time any of her family had ever been.

Virgie’s stomach was full of butterflies. She hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself on the rides and scream like a banshee. Worse still, she hoped Cleve would behave. She glanced over at her husband and prayed a silent prayer that he would.

Please don’t let him turn ornery. Dear Lord, she thought, what if he loses his breakfast on them rides.

Virgie chose not to think about it as she turned into the road leading to the park.

“Mama,” Claire said, getting out of the car, “look at that.”

The big, white clown’s eyes stared at them.

“That’s quite ‘a somethin’,” Virgie said, her level of uneasiness soaring off the charts.

Behind the white head, a huge dark cloud loomed.

“Maybe we should come back another day, Cleve,” Virgie said. “That’s a nasty cloud boiling up.”

“Aw, it ain’t nuthin.’ Come on you yellow chicken,” Cleve said. “Swall’er ’at knot in yer throat. This is Clarie’s special day. Let’s go.”

“Come on, Mama,” Claire said, hoping to keep her father in a good mood. “I can’t wait.”

Cleve smiled broadly, throwing a limp wrist over his daughter’s shoulder.

Virgie’s dislike of MEGA Mountain Funland Park was immediate. That black cloud did not help one bit. It was an omen. Virgie knew it.

As she walked up to the clown head entrance, her skin crawled. This was a very evil thing. An idol. And it was alive. Virgie had felt its spooky eyes on her the minute she got out of the car. If it had not been for the fact that Cleve was half lit, she would have told him so and demanded to go home, at once.

But Cleve was on the verge of turning bad, Virgie could tell, so she kept quiet and walked somberly up to the entrance of the large, blood-red, gaping mouth.

Cleve gave the ticket man the money. Cleve was all puffed up like a banty rooster. Money had that effect on him.

“Three tickets,” the man said, handing Cleve his change. “Let me stamp the tops of your hands. That way, if you need to leave the park and go out to your car, you can get back in.”

They all put forth their hands and got a large, blue-ink impression of that evil-looking clown stamped on them.

“There you go,” the man said. “You’re ready to have some real fun now. Enjoy your time at MEGA Mountain Funland Park.”

He brushed them into the clown’s mouth so that the next group in line could hand over their hard-earned cash.

Claire stuck close to Virgie. The inside of this demon’s mouth was cavernous. Both she and Virgie jumped out of their skin when the riotous laughter started. It sounded tinny. Virgie was sure it was Satan’s imps laughing at them. She wanted to run back to the car, but something in Cleve’s eyes told her to plod on.

“Confound it, this clown makes a clatterment. I never heared sucha ruckus and commotion.”

“Heck fire,” Cleve said, “I’m a-fixin’ to tek both fistes and cram ’em in yer mouth. Shet yer yappin’ ’n’ have fun.”

The trio took the path to the adult rides. Virgie would have been perfectly fine with going to the petting zoo, but she knew better than to even bring up that suggestion.

“Baby girl,” Cleve said, “what do you want to ride first? It’s your day. You choose.”

“I don’t know, Daddy. How ’bout the big wheel?”

“Alrighty. We’ll be sure to ride the Ferris wheel.”

Cleve was like a young boy on his first date.

“But, how ’bout let’s ride ’at rollercoaster first?” Cleve whispered into Claire’s ear.

“I dunno, Daddy,” Claire said. “’At’s a teeth-rattlin’ ride.”

“Come on. Don’t be a feardy cat,” Cleve said.

Reluctantly, Claire followed her father and they took their places at the back of the line.

“Line ain’t so long fer the swangs,” Claire said, hoping her father would take the hint.

“Ain’t gonna ride no sissy swangs. We gonna tackle dis monster. Furst thang ’em boys gonna askt me when I tells ’em we went here wuz did you ride that Blue Cyclone? I ain’t gonna lie to ’em when I says ‘yup.’”

Claire obediently followed her father. Only the rear car on the ride was available.

“Look at yer maw, baby girl, standing down’air lookin’ at us. She is fit to be tied,” Cleve said. “Wave to her ’fore she has a heart attack.”

Claire waved weakly at Virgie whose pale face stared up at her daughter. Something in Virgie’s face really did look like she was about to have a heart attack.

Virgie was at her wit’s end. A cow had mooed last night after dark, and the dog had howled before the moon had risen. She’d seen a black snake along the side of the road as she’d driven here. She’d watched Cleve the night before talking to his buddies. The fool had lit three cigarettes off his one match. Claire was doomed to die. Virgie knew it in her bones.

Yet, if she’d tried to stop Cleve from coming today, no telling what he would have done to her and to Claire. Virgie did the only thing she could do as she watched her beloved daughter follow her father up the wooden walkway to the roller coaster car. Virgie prayed.

The car that the ride man had placed her beloved child in was at the end. Land a Goshen. Virgie stood horrified. The man was putting Cleve and Claire in the 13th car on that line. The giant wooden structure swayed before Virgie’s eyes. She took two steps to the side and sank on a bench before her knees gave way.

She would have screamed to the top of her lungs for Claire to get off the car, but the ride was already rolling down the tracks. Virgie watched. The small cars traced up the track, rising to the first steep hill, topping it, they flew down with lightning speed. Sharp turn left, then right, then slowing down for the long climb up the second hill, around they came. She caught a glimpse of her daughter’s pale face just as the car disappeared into the fake coal mine’s black entry. There was a crashing sound. Screams.

Several riders were hurt from a malfunction on the roller coaster. A mechanical failure had caused some of the cars to leave the track and careen into the ground. The coaster cars were a mass of twisted metal, soaked in blood. Cleve and Claire were among the lucky ones. They survived, but Claire was badly hurt.

“If only we’d stayed home and baked that cake,” Virgie kept mumbling. That same thought would haunt her for years, running circles in her head like a merry-go-round that never stopped.