The Last Sin Eater (4 page)

When I looked at her, hoping for an explanation, she just smiled at me, her eyes alight with promise.

THREE

Gervase Odara came by the house a few days later. When I came in from doing chores, she and Mama were sitting inside near the hearth, Mama staring at the flames. “Good day, child,” the healer said as I stopped in the doorway, unsure of whether to enter or wait outside until her departure. It seemed providence that she appeared, having been the one to warn me about looking into the sin eater’s eyes.

She put her worn hands on her knees and pushed herself up. “I just come by to visit with your mama awhile. I’d best be getting on to Elda Kendric, or she’ll wonder what’s become of me.”

“How’s she doing these days, ma’am?” I remembered how much stock Granny took in the old woman. She always said they were good friends who had come through many a hardship together.

“She’s in a lot of pain though she doesn’t like to let on. Why don’t you come along with me? It would cheer her up to see Gorawen Forbes’s granddaughter.” She cast a look at Mama. “Unless you’ve things for Cadi to do for you, Fia.”

“She can go,” she said dully, not looking up from the fire.

“Bring a shawl then, Cadi. It’s clouding over.”

I was weary from my chores and would have preferred stretching out on Granny’s bed, but what Lilybet had said came back to me. If anyone would know anything about the sin eater, it was Elda Kendric. Except for Granny, she had been around the longest. If I went to visit her, I’d soon learn where the sin eater lived. The hope of that enticed me into obedience.

The healer and I walked a ways in silence, she thinking and me not knowing what to say. Then she paused along the pathway. “Here’s pennyroyal. It’s good for fevers.” She picked leaves and put them into the basket she always carried. Granny used to say she was born with it dangling from her arm. “Over there’s bleeding heart. Pull the smaller plant, dearie, and take it up gentle so as not to break the root. That’s the best part.”

I hastened to do her bidding, eager to please. I had a long liking of the healer, for she was kind and given over to the care of people. She had been one of Granny’s dearest friends and often came to pass time. They would talk about the mountain people and cures for their ailments. I liked sitting by and listening to their rememberings, though they sometimes seemed cautious in my hearing. Often it was in my mind to be a healer like Gervase Odara. She was held in high regard in our small community of families, nestled as we were in the mountain coves and hollows. And so I ran to do her bidding.

My knees sank into the deep leaf fall. It lay so thick on the ground it was like a newly stuffed mattress. I drew the bleeding heart carefully from its growing place, thankful and pleased it came up easily. Brushing away the dirt, I carried the prize back to Gervase Odara, hoping to earn her good pleasure.

“Thank ye, child.” She smiled and tucked the plant into her basket, then brushed the hair back from my shoulder as we began walking again. “Your mama says you have a new friend.”

I clasped my hands behind my back and said nothing. My happiness was dampened knowing it was not my company she had sought after all. Mama had put her up to it.

“Lilybet, she says you call her.”

I made a sound that could have been taken for yea or nay.

She stopped to cut some bark from a red oak tree. “Why don’t ye tell me about her?”

“Nothing much to tell, ma’am.”

“Where’d she come from?”

“Far away, she says, ma’am.”

“Far away o’er the mountains? Or further away than that?”

“Across the sea, I reckon.”

“That far? Maybe she comes from closer than you know, aye?”

I was not sure what she meant by that, but it had an ominous sound. We came out of the woods to the stretch of highland meadow. Yellow daisies and purple lupine and white lace were growing. I didn’t want to talk of Lilybet anymore and ran my hands along the flowers as we walked through them. They were damp from dew. The sky was clouding over, and thunder rumbled in the distance as we headed uphill toward the trees.

“It’ll rain before we reach Elda’s,” the healer said.

“Yes, ma’am, but only long enow for the earth to have a drink.” Granny had always said that. It pleased me to think about the things she used to say, and I knew that Granny had said it often enough that the healer would remember also.

“Aye, my dear.” She laughed at my fair imitation. “And true it is.” Her smile turned wistful. “Your granny was a wise woman, my dear, and we all sorely miss her. You most of all.” She looked at me intently. “Aye?”

“Papa, too, I’m thinking,” I said to be polite.

“As should he, her being his mother and all. But your papa ken what was coming, I reckon. It’s harder for the young to understand an end when they’re just at the beginning with a long living stretching out ahead. That’s the way of things, dearie. We’re only allotted a certain number of years to walk this earth, and then our time comes. Your granny passed on and another enters in. Jillian O’Shea had her baby two mornings before we laid your granny to rest.”

“There was room aplenty for a new baby without Granny leaving.”

“I know, child, and let there be no misunderstanding. She dinna die so that the babe could come. I mean only that her passing isna the end of everything. Life goes on. And your granny will rise again on Judgment Day. Most likely, she’ll see Jesus coming down from heaven from where she’s resting high on that hill. No, my dear. It ain’t her I mean. It’s the living concerns me most. Your granny’s resting easy now, sleeping until the end of time comes upon us all.”

“Because of what the sin eater did for her.”

She gave me a sidelong look. “Aye, that’s true enow. She’ll have no sins to make her walk these hills, but we’ve other things to talk about, you and I. Important things. Has Lilybet any folks?”

I saw she meant to keep me from speaking more of the sin eater and fix on Lilybet. I was greatly uncomfortable with the set of her conversation. “She mentioned her father.” I hoped for another opportunity to learn more about the sin eater once we reached Elda Kendric. Being so old and near the grave herself, Elda Kendric was not afeared of anything.

“And have ye ever laid eyes upon her father, dearie?”

“No, ma’am.”

“And where’d ye meet Lilybet?”

My heart started in pounding. I thought to tell her I’d met Lilybet in the meadow at the west end of the cove, but everyone knew Gervase Odara could tell when someone was lying. She stopped at my silence. Taking hold of my shoulders, she turned me to face her. “Tell me, child.”

Her pale blue eyes were so fixed upon me that I blurted out the truth. “At the river.”

She straightened with a start, releasing me. Afraid of what was coming, I darted away, calling back over my shoulder. “Miz Kendric might like some flowers.” I retreated to the top of the meadow to gather some, thinking Gervase Odara might go on without me and I would catch up when she reached the old woman’s house.

She waited. Both arms looped through the handle of her basket, she waited and watched. “Where by the river, Cadi Forbes?” she called after me.

I could feel the heat coming up my neck and filling my face and then washing away as quick as it come, leaving me cold as winter snow inside. “Does it matter?”

“Aye, it matters, child. Now, come on back. Elda’s waiting.”

I did as she bade me, bringing a bouquet of flowers with me. They would cheer the old woman and give me something to hold on to.

“Where did this Lilybet come upon ye, child?”

I knew she would not give over until she knew all she had set her mind to know. “Above the falls.”

She looked troubled. “Near the tree bridge?”

I nodded once, slowly, my eyes filling with tears. Sucking my lower lip, I bit down, awaiting her pronouncement upon me.

Gervase Odara’s mouth became pinched with dismay. Cupping my chin, she lifted my head and waited for me to look at her. “Ye must be careful, Cadi Forbes. Ye must listen hard to me, my girl, and do as I say. Close your heart to this Lilybet. Do not let her near to ye again. This is most important. I ken you’re sorrowful and hurting for what happened, dear, but ye mustna let those feelings be a road into your soul.” She stroked my tears away, looking as aggrieved as I was feeling. “Oh, child, thar’s things in these mountains even I dunna understand, but I know enough to leave alone. And ye must do the same. This Lilybet is not what she seems.”

Every way I turned, I faced a mystery. Oh, I understood rightly enough that she was warning me against having anything more to do with Lilybet. What I didn’t ken was why. What things were in these mountains? What things should be left alone? And what was wrong with Lilybet, who had been only kind to me? And now I must forsake her when she was my only true friend? Gathering my courage, I asked the healer about all this, but she shook her head and would not say more. Even as young as I was, I understood that she was afeared of something and talking about it made that fear grow. For my sake, she tried not to let it show, but I sensed it all the same. Death has a smell that permeates. She was not frightened by what she knew but by what she didn’t understand.

Why was it so? And did it have to stay that way, ever being afraid of what was beyond our understanding?

In my heart I knew that Lilybet was opening a door for me.

She was giving me a glimpse inside. But inside what?

I didn’t know. All I had in response to my questions were more questions.

Elda Kendric was in sore spirits and sorry condition when we reached her place. She hollered from inside her house for us to come in. Gervase said right off she could see the old woman’s joints were swollen. In fact, Miz Elda was aching so fierce she couldn’t even rise to greet us. She tried, but her grimace turned to a growl. “I was wishing for ye to come two days ago.”

Gervase Odara made no explanations, but went to Elda Ken-dric’s cabinet and took out a jug of whiskey. She poured a goodly amount into a mug and stirred in honey and vinegar. “Thar’s a small pouch in my basket, Cadi. Bring it o’er here if ye please.” I did so and watched her open it and add two pinches of powder to the drink. “A bit of rhubarb’ll help the poor dear.” She pulled the drawstring and handed the small pouch back to me, then offered the drink to the old woman. Elda Kendric downed it right quickly, clearly craving ease. Then the healer took a jar from the shelf and went outside.

“She’ll be back soon as she’s caught some bees,” the old woman said. “Why don’t ye sit awhile and keep me company?” She smiled through her pain. “I don’t bite too hard, especially since I lost my teeth. Pull up that stool.”

Here was my opportunity if I had the courage for it. I sat close to Elda Kendric and tried to think of a way to ask about the sin eater without being found out. She looked at me, a small smile playing on her lips. Granny used to get that look sometimes, as though she knew very well what I was thinking. Or thought she did.

“Those are pretty flowers ye’re holding thar. Did ye pick them for your mama?”

“No, ma’am. I thought ye might like them.”

“I do indeed. Yer granny was partial to blue beauties, but I’ve always liked daisies best.”

I placed them in her lap and watched her finger the blossoms. “They come from the meadow below your woods, ma’am.”

“Thought so. Last time I walked through that meadow was on the way to yer granny’s funeral.” She looked up from the flowers. “Lyda Hume came to visit yesterday and said her young’uns had seen ye.”

“Fagan was spearing fish.”

“Jest like his daddy. Ain’t happy unless he’s killing something.”

“Ma’am, I was wondering . . .”

“Wondering about what?”

“Well, about who ye’ll want to come to your funeral.”

She cackled. “Land sakes, chile, what a thing to ask a poor old woman. I ain’t dead yet.”

“Yes, ma’am, but what good’ll it do to wait?”

The healer returned. Two bees buzzed angrily in the bottle she carried.

I moved back as Gervase Odara knelt. Forsaking modesty, the old woman pulled her skirt up past her knees. Angering the bees by tapping the jar, the healer removed the first one with wood tweezers. Elda Kendric drew in her breath sharply as she received the first sting.

“Time was I could have gone out and caught these bees myself without waiting on yer convenience,” Miz Elda said, brushing away the dying honeybee that had just dispensed the poison that eased her pain. She sucked in her breath sharply as the healer put a second bee on her other leg. When the treatment was done, Miz Elda laboriously pushed her skirt down again. “The chile was just asking who’ll be invited to my funeral.”

Gervase Odara looked at me with dismay and I blushed.

“I reckon I’d want everyone invited who’d like to come,” Miz Elda said, leaning forward and patting my hand. “I’d like a wake just like yer granny had. Plenty of good food for the women and whiskey for the men.”

“And the sin eater? Will ye want him to come, Miz Kendric?”

“Oh, indeed. I’ll have sore need of him.”

“And how’ll we find him for ye?”

“Ye won’t need to find him. The passing bell echoes in these mountains,” Gervase Odara said. “He’ll most likely hear it.”

“Is that where he is? High on the mountaintop?”