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Authors: Janette Oke

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BOOK: The Tender Years
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Jamison laughed as though her comment was terribly witty. Virginia smiled.

It was a wonderful party. All around her was laughter and teasing as the people of her Youth Group enjoyed the evening together and the delicious food that her mama and Clara had provided.

Birthday cake and ice cream followed. They were all so full they could hardly start the planned games.

Two members of the group had been asked to plan the evening’s fun time. They were wise enough to start with slower activities, allowing their supper to settle a bit before becoming a little more boisterous. Virginia was not the only one who was thankful to ease into the activities.

As the evening wore on, Virginia realized that more and more often she turned to find Jamison close beside her, offering to assist her, holding a chair, asking if she wanted more of her grandmother’s fruit cider. It began to feel natural to have him by. And then through the maze of bodies, Virginia’s brown eyes met the green eyes of Jenny. They cast a clear message across the distance that separated them. Jenny looked furious. She reached up and tore the pins from her long red hair, shaking it out with deliberate rebellion. It was her little message to Virginia that she no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Neither have friendship nor her assistance.

Virginia felt her stomach tighten. If Jenny was throwing aside their friendship—just like she threw the unwanted hair pins in the thick grass of the Simpson backyard—would she also discard the church? The Youth Group? Virginia felt deep apprehension sweep all through her body.

CHAPTER 19

Y
ou are
some friend
.”

Jenny’s words were hot and accusatory. The others had all left for home. Only Jenny stood, facing Virginia, eyes flaming, hair in disarray around her shoulders. Virginia bit her lip.

“You know how I feel about Jamison.”

That was true. Jenny had not kept her feelings a well-guarded secret.

“But I—”

“You openly chased him all evening.”

This did send words tumbling out. “I did no such thing. You’ve no call to make such a totally untruthful statement. You were the one doing all of the flirting. You practically threw yourself at—”

But Virginia’s words were halted as Jenny’s hand slapped sharply across her cheek. Jenny looked as surprised at the action as Virginia, who raised a trembling hand to her stinging face.

Jenny quickly recovered. “I’ll never speak to you again, Virginia. You pretend to be a friend … a … a perfect little saint, and then you go and double-cross like that.”

Virginia was still rubbing the smarting cheek. Her eyes were tear-filled and her throat tight. She had never been struck across the cheek before. She felt confused. Along with the pain was anger and humiliation and an underlying desire for retaliation. Virginia took a deep breath and prayed for control.

“I did nothing,” she managed to say firmly, blinking back tears. “Nothing but be a friend to a boy whom I have known for many years. If that offends you, Jenny, I’m sorry. I have tried—” She stopped to draw a breath so she could go on. “I have tried to … to be
your
friend, too, Jenny. Honestly I have. If it hasn’t been enough for you—again, I’m sorry.”

Virginia stopped and took a deep breath. What could she say to Jenny? What would wipe away the intense anger? “I … I will be happy to continue our friendship—if you wish. That’s entirely up to you. But I … I cannot let you dictate my life. I have to be free to make my own choices. I will still pray for you. Will hope that you will want to find peace with God. But I … I cannot throw away all other friendships just—just to please you.”

Jenny stood listening, one emotion after another sweeping across her face. When Virginia ended the speech, Jenny’s anger pressed forward once again.

“You’ll see him again?”

“I see him every Sunday.”

“You know I’m not talking about church.”

“As a friend—yes. If he wishes.”

Jenny’s eyes blazed.

“As a friend? Hah.”

“As a friend.”

Jenny looked as if she wished she could reach out and slap the other cheek. Her eyes were smoldering. “You stupid—” She added a couple words that Virginia did not understand. Did not wish to understand. They were spit out like venom. “That’s not how
he
sees it. He likes you.”

Virginia could only stare.

Jenny wheeled to go. But as she was leaving she turned for one last shot. “And I hope they string up your dear ole Loony Marshall. They’ve taken him in, you know. They found the stolen goods in his room.”

“Is it true, Papa?”

Virginia, trembling, stood in front of her father. The deep agitation in her voice caused him to lower
The Weekly Chronicle
, and he raised his eyes to hers.

“Is it true? Has the sheriff really arrested Rett?”

He nodded slowly, laid aside the paper, and reached for her hand.

“Did they really find the things in his room?”

He was slow in replying. When he did speak it was not to answer her question. “Virginia, I’m sorry that you’ve heard about this tonight. Your mother and I had hoped you could enjoy your birthday party without—well, without being troubled by all the—”

“Then it’s true.”

He nodded.

“Where is he?”

“In the local jail.”

“That will kill him—being locked up like that.”

“He’s having a hard time, yes.”

“Where’s his crow?”

“Danny has him.”

“That’s Rett’s crow out there?”

Her father nodded.

All the guests had shown interest in Danny’s little collection of pens and recuperating animals and birds. Many of the pens were now empty, but Danny was happy to tell them of the former occupants that had now gone back to the wilds. Someone had questioned Danny about the crow, which looked perfectly healthy.

“When you gonna let him go?” they had questioned, but Danny had seemed evasive.

“Don’t know,” he had answered and passed on to another pen. Now Virginia understood the conversation. It was Rett’s crow in the backyard pen. Danny would not be returning him to freedom. Not until things were settled with Rett.

“You don’t think he did it, do you?”

Her father looked away for a moment.

“Do you?”

“What I think does not stand up in a court of law, Virginia. They deal with evidence. And the evidence is pretty strong against Rett. I … it’s going to be a hard task to defend him. Especially when he cannot defend himself.”

“You mean they did find the stuff in his room?”

Her father nodded.

“But that doesn’t mean he put it there.”

“It seems strange that it would get there another way.”

“But it could have happened.”

“Anything is possible.”

“Maybe his crow?”

“I’ve thought of that. The landlady has refused to let the crow in the room.”

“Maybe Rett sneaked it in—through the open window.” “There’s a solid screen on that window.”

“Who cleans his room?”

Her father drew a deep breath. “Look, my dear, I know you find all this very upsetting, but it is late, and we are not going to solve this problem tonight. I’m working on it. I’ll do all I can.”

“Jenny says she hopes they string him up.”

“Well, there won’t be any lynching. I can promise you that.”

“What will they do with him?”

Her father passed his hand through his hair. “They—if he’s found guilty—we’ll try for the insanity plea.”

“Insanity?” Virginia felt outrage. “He’s not insane, Papa. Just because he’s … different. He’s not—”

“I know. I know. He’s not a danger to society. At least he never has been. But … but insanity means—well, it means many things. And if used—successfully—he will be sheltered. Protected. Given help.”

“But he will not be given freedom, will he? That’s what he needs. What he wants. Freedom.”

Her father looked tired, but he managed a smile. “Have you ever thought of being a lawyer, Virginia?” he asked teasingly.

For a moment Virginia stood, staring at the strange question. Then she understood his attempt to lighten the situation and compliment her in his own way. She was able to give him the hint of a smile in return.

“Well, I don’t think he did it,” she still pronounced.

“You think he was framed?”

“Framed?”

“Set up. Someone else placed the evidence in his room.”

Virginia thought about that. “Yes!” she exclaimed, excite? ment taking hold of her. “Yes. That’s it. He was framed.”

“Now—who would do that?”

Virginia sobered. She had no idea.

“And why? What would anyone gain by attacking such a harmless man?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

It was all such a puzzle. What if Rett really had done it? What if after all of the years of not even being interested in anything material he had suddenly taken some strange urge to accumulate? What if he was a
little
dangerous to society?

But she couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t accept it. It was all so totally contradictory.

“I don’t know,” she said again, sobered by the fact that it sounded as though Rett did indeed have a strong case against him.

“So what can we do?” she asked her father.

He reached out and took her hand. “Well … not much, I fear. On the legal front. But maybe a great deal—on the spiritual front. If Rett is not guilty—and I hope with all my heart that he is not—then we need to pray that God will somehow, in His wonderful and miraculous way, bring the truth to light.”

Virginia nodded solemnly.

“You pray. I’ll work on the case,” said her father.

It sounded simple.

“Trust God, Virginia,” her father went on. “He’s taken on tougher tasks—and been victorious.”

Her father was smiling again. But there was an underlying assurance in his voice, as well. She gave him a forced smile in return and withdrew her hand.

She turned to go. Suddenly she felt very tired. Drained of the excitement that had carried her through the wonderful day.

“What happened to your cheek?” her father’s voice stopped her.

Virginia turned. What could she say? What should she say? She could not lie.

“Jenny,” she said at last.

A frown. Then fatherly concern. “She was
that
angry?”

Virginia nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

He leaned forward slightly. Virginia had never seen that look in his eyes before.

“Perhaps you need to reconsider that friendship,” he said firmly. “Anyone who strikes out in—”

“I’m not sure there is any friendship left to reconsider,” Virginia choked out through her tears. “Perhaps becoming friends again—with Jenny—would take an even bigger miracle than getting Rett pardoned.”

Virginia found it difficult to start back to school. Her mind was still churning over Rett, trying to come up with some kind of plan, some way to find an explanation for the stolen goods appearing in Rett’s room. And then there was the other matter of facing Jenny again. Jenny had not appeared at church on Sunday, and though Virginia had been disappointed, she had not been surprised.

But Jenny would be at school. Virginia was sure of that. They would share a classroom and meet in the halls. There would be no way for them to totally avoid each other.

Jamison would be at school, too. His final year. And even if he followed his past pattern of heading for the ball diamond at every school break, Virginia—and Jenny—would be sure to run in to
him
, as well. Virginia wondered if he had any idea of the trouble he had made between Jenny and her.

Virginia’s feet dragged as she neared the school steps. Francine urged her forward, a switch from the usual when Virginia had to prod the dreamy Francine.

“We’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” the young girl reminded, but Virginia did not hasten her steps. She did not want to arrive at school before the large bell began calling students to the classroom. She did not want to find herself face-to-face with Jenny—with no words to say.

“Go ahead,” she said to Francine and received a perplexed look in reply. But Francine did go ahead, breaking into a run after a few steps.

Virginia neared the school just as the bell began to announce its first ringing invitation. She had timed it just right.

Breathlessly she slid into a seat and laid her books on the desktop before her just as the teacher began to address the class. Virginia felt relieved. The first hurdle had been overcome.

But just as she began to relax, the thought came crashing in that there were many even more difficult hurdles that lay ahead.

Jamison did dash out to play ball with the other boys. Jenny seemed as intent on staying away from Virginia as Virginia was in avoiding her. The day passed with no major incident. Virginia, relieved, gathered her books and headed toward the door at the end of the first day. But she was just about to step onto the sidewalk at the front of the school when a movement to her left caught her attention.

BOOK: The Tender Years
10.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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