Unto These Hills (13 page)

“Oh my
Lord.
” Doretha sat on the bed next to me, pulling back the sheet and lifting my gown, one she’d loaned me to sleep in. “You’re bleedin’, honey. Lay still. I’m gonna get a wash rag.” Within moments she was back with a metal wash pan of warm water, sponging me off as I moaned with pain and humiliation. “Oh, honey,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

“Oh, Doretha,” I sobbed, “Daniel’s gonna die. Just
die.
We’ve been saving ourselves for each o-other —” My weeping crescendoed as Doretha wrapped her frail little arms around me, squeezing and cryin’ with me.

“I-I’m like m-my Mama now,” I wailed, “I want to d-die!”

Doretha held me until my bawling wound down to glassy-eyed snuffling. “You’re not like your mama or nobody else, now, y’hear?” she said hoarsely, swiping her hand across her wet face. “You’re Sunny. Just — Sunny.” She grew quiet for a long moment, then, “Did you get a look at ‘im?”

I shook my head violently. “No.” Then shuddered.

“ Did he say anything?”

Another shudder. “N-no.”

“Do you have any idea who he could be?”

“Not really.” Then a mental replay of tonight’s hotel diners flashed before me. “There’s — Buck Edmonds. Or Harly Kale.” I was suddenly gripped with chills. My teeth began to clatter. I couldn’t bring myself to mention Bill Melton. Not even to Doretha. It was like stabbing Emaline in the back to reveal his indiscretion. “Th-they all heard me say I was coming home w-with you.”

Doretha gazed at me, her eyes inordinately sad and bottomless. She gripped my hand. “I’m so sorry, Sunny,” she said so quietly you’d’ve thought she was entering a prayer room. “Sorry I asked you to come here, tonight. You wouldn’t’a been —”

“No.” I squeezed her birdlike fingers. “It’s not your fault. Actually —” my heart thudded even harder, “it coulda been
you.”

Her gaze lowered to our locked hands. She whispered. “I know. It shoulda been.”

“
Doretha.”
How like her to accept the responsibility. Like she was the world’s protector. “Please don’t say that. Okay?”

She raised her eyes to mine, the sadness magnified, if possible. Finally, she murmured, “Okay.” Then, “Do you want to call the police?”

“God,
no!
” Aunt Tina had had a phone installed but going there to use it was out of the question. In that instant, I knew beyond a doubt that I did not want anyone to know.

Doretha checked the window, where the screen had been ripped off and tossed to the ground outside. She lowered the window and locked it, then examined the front door, which remained latched. We kept watch there on her bed for the rest of the night, as though our vigilance would ward off further evil.

All night long, I kept asking
Where were you God?

~~~~~

By morning, the shock began to dissipate a bit. Reality set in. Walter and Berthie came in from the all-night hospital vigil, looking pale and haggard.

“Don’t leave me,” Berthie murmured in a distant voice, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Nobody’s gonna leave you, Mama,” Doretha soothed her as she steered her away. Berthie looked back over her shoulder at Walter, a stricken look on her face.

“It’s okay, Berthie,” Walter said gently, striding over to hug her before Doretha aimed her for the stairs. “Everything’s okay. Nobody’s gonna leave you.”

Doretha tucked her mama in bed upstairs and came back down to join us in the kitchen. The eggs Doretha cooked were scorched but I couldn’t have eaten them anyway.

“Daddy’s holding his own,” said Walter, rubbing a hand over his tired features. “They’ll know more when they finish the tests today.”

“How was Mama?” queried Doretha, setting cups out for coffee. Soon as she poured mine, I loaded it with cream and sugar, fighting the nausea that choked me.

Walter’s huff of a laugh answered that. “Out of it, pretty much. But she slept most of the night on the hospital cot. I took the lumpy chair.” His grin flashed, then dissolved, showing his strain. “They kept Daddy knocked out.”

“Hey,” he said gently to me, “heard from Daniel?”

Out of the blue, tears sprang to my eyes. I ducked my head to hide them. “No. Aunt Tina had a phone installed but that doesn’t help me now, does it?”

“You really miss ‘im, huh?” He took a long sip of hot liquid, studying me over the cup’s rim.

“I really do,” I managed to say without totally breaking down.

“I’m sorry, Sunny,” he said quietly as Doretha banged down the coffeepot on the stove, “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“She knows that, Walter,” Doretha said in that flat way she had of speaking to him. Any other time, I would’ve laughed. Not now. Not today.

Probably not ever again.

~~~~~

“Daniel called the other night,” said Francine. She was still ebullient to be recently sprung from bed rest. Today, I hibernated in the hotel’s mending room, a thing I’d recently begun, with the pretense of working on my wedding gown. It was finished but nobody knew that except me. And perhaps Daisy.

Francine didn’t seem to notice the change in me. I’d let out the folding cot and put clean sheets on it. It gave me a place to lie and think. At that precise moment, for Francine’s benefit, I hunched over the machine, piddling with seams and pinning unnecessary adjustments. Not that Francine was aware of my silence. She was too involved in her own agenda. The activity simply gave me my needed distance.

“Daniel called?” My heart beat wildly, whether from fear or excitement at his name, I wasn’t sure. I watched Francine mosey over to the little window that overlooked the street below, where men lined the rock wall like roosting crows, heads cocked for the sound of the three-thirty whistle. She eyed them hungrily.

“Yeh,” Francine tossed back her tawny mane, her gesture of liberation. “Ol’ battle axe Tina told ‘im you didn’t live there any more. He already knew that but he’d called the Acklins and Lula said you weren’t there and he thought you might’ve dropped by the house. Anyway, Aunt Tina was just plain hateful. I wanted to slap her jaws good.”

I felt like I
had
been slapped. I’d been staying at the hotel sewing room until late into the night, telling Wayne and Lula I was sewing on my wedding gown. We maids weren’t allowed personal calls at the hotel so no one bothered me. I needed desperately to be alone.

How I yearned to hear Daniel’s voice. But then — I felt like if he talked to me, he’d
know.
Daniel’s sixth sense, where I was concerned, knew no bounds. I wasn’t ready for that.

I avoided everybody these days. At school, I kept my nose poked in a textbook, keeping folks at bay. From there, I went straight to the hotel where I worked daily but spoke only when spoken to. Neither Buck Edmonds nor Harly Kale had dined at the hotel since the night of the baseball practice. Nor had old Mr. Melton. I was relieved because I didn’t think I could look either one of them in the eye.

Anger was my constant companion. I couldn’t pray because I was angry with God for allowing this evil . Hadn’t I been faithful to Him? I’d attended church regularly and tried to live a clean, exemplary life. I knew I was being unreasonable but I couldn’t, at that precise time, help it. Hopelessness gnawed at me.

Today, Francine left just before the mill whistle blew, focused, no doubt, on drawing attention as she sashayed past Testosterone Corner. As I re-hung my gown, I heard the distant wolf-whistles. I usually would have grinned. Not today. The commotion merely fed my festering fury.

It was during the supper hour that Walter sauntered in and planted himself at one of my dining room tables. “Hey, Sunny,” he greeted me warmly. I took a deep breath and made my way toward him, the effort taking every bit of energy I could muster. His gaze narrowed. “You okay?”

“Yeh,” I all but snapped at him. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You just look a little pale,” he replied gently, picking up the day’s handwritten menu and studying it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling nasty and mean. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m just tired.” I sighed, pencil poised for his order. “And I miss Daniel.”

He looked up then and shot me his quick grin. “Figured as much. Bring me a bowl of blackeyed peas, a big hunk of cornbread, and fried potatoes.” He slid the menu to me and leaned back in his straight chair, crossing sun-bronzed arms over his firm midriff and winked at me. “ An’ some of that fried streaked meat. I been cravin’it all day.”

When I brought him his food, he touched my arm as I turned to leave. “Listen, Sunny. You don’t need to grieve yourself over Daniel so much. He wouldn’t like that. Y’know?”

I looked into his blue eyes. They were sincere. “Yeh,” I smiled, “I know.”

I turned to leave, the warmth of his concern lingering with me.

It’s over. No need to worry anymore.

My smile widened as I approached the next diner.

When Daniel gets back, everything will return to normal — as though nothing ever happened.

Chapter Eight

Tom Stone died only days after being discharged from the hospital. Another heart attack. Walter took it pretty hard while Doretha showed no emotion whatsoever. I don’t know that it ever dawned on poor Berthie what had happened.

No one knew how to get in touch with Daniel with the news. Seems he was traveling from town to town, staying with kinfolk along the way, his mama always two steps ahead of him. I didn’t think Daniel would mind too much missing Tom’s funeral. The man had never given him anything but grief. Daniel had lived with it. Bore it with grace.

I thought what a shame Tom Stone had let an opportunity to bless such a wonderful boy as Daniel slip through his fingers. Not only would kindness have nurtured and made a viable difference in Daniel’s life but Tom himself would have reaped undying love and loyalty in return.

That was Daniel, as passionate in loving those faithful ones as he was in hating those who betrayed him. Like Mona, his mama.

Weeks passed and still Daniel did not return. I shoved back moments of panic and poured myself into wedding arrangements. When my nervous stomach began agitating in earnest, I had more trouble hiding it. Bouts of vomiting seized me, at first at all hours of the day, but especially after eating meals.

“Chile, what wrong with you?” Daisy planted herself between me and the rest room door, hands astride hips. Her chocolate-velvety gaze traveled the length of my crumpled body, near prostrate as I clung to the toilet seat, vomiting my guts up.

She waited until the heaving subsided before her strong hands pulled me to my wobbly feet. “How long you been doin’ this?”

“A couple of weeks,” I groaned, plopping limply onto the closed toilet lid. “Probably an ulcer. You know what a nervous stomach I’ve got.” I jerked toilet tissue from a roll to wipe my mouth clean.

“Hmm.” Daisy’s astute gaze assessed my pale features for long moments. “Maybe.” Another long silence. “You okay now?”

“Yeh.” I forced myself to stand and splash cold water on my face. “I’ll be okay in a minute. It always goes away.”

As we made our way back to the dining area, I saw Walter come in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Daisy helping me to a chair. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be okay,” I whispered. She nodded, though obviously not at all convinced. Supper diners now spilled into the room so she had to get busy.

So did I. I rose unsteadily to my feet, tugged an order pad from my pocket, and approached Walter, who looked more astounded each step I took.

“What in God’s name happened to you, Sunny?” His mouth hung open.

“Just an ulcer thing,” I said, pen poised in dismissal of the subject. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

His brows drew together. “Nothing? I don’t call an ulcer
nothing.
Have you seen the doc yet?”

“No. I don’t need —”

“Make ‘er go, Walter,” Daisy said over my shoulder, “She need to be see’d to.” She moved on to take other orders before I could speak.

“You heard ‘er, Sunny,” Walter rose to his feet. “Get your things. I’m gonna call Doc Worley to meet us at his office.”

I huffed and puffed like a daggum bullfrog but, with Daisy and Walter nipping at my heels, I soon found myself on Dr. Worley’s examination table with my feet and legs in an iron stirrup contraption that pointed my knees at the ceiling in an exceedingly graceless way. I wondered, not for the first time, how he felt about my Mama’s part in his interrupted retirement. He’d already probed and mashed on my abdomen until it ached and had churned up the terrible nausea again. Moments after my retching over the pail he stoically held for me, I found myself in this unsavory , undignified position.

A few minutes later, dressed and perched nervously on the edge of a straight chair, I awaited the old physician’s reappearance. Walter thumbed through magazines in the outer waiting room. I thought again of the polar-differences between Walter and his late daddy. Walter’s kind nature left ol’ Tom looking like a demon.

I caught myself: it wasn’t good to think ill o’ the dead.

Dr. Worley entered the room. “Here’s some medicine for your stomach, and a prescription for more if they help,” he said, handing me some pills.

“Are ulcers hard to cure?” I asked, feeling my alarm grow.

“You don’t have ulcers.”

“I — don’t?” The words sounded whispery, faraway.

“No, Sunny. You’re pregnant.”

I swooned. Yep. That’s exactly what I did. Nearly went all the way out.

I barely heard the Doc say, “Does Daniel know?”

Daniel. Daniel. Oh my Go-o-od.

Then, everything
did
turn black.

~~~~~

“And after Dr. Worley asked me if Daniel knew, I passed out deader’n a quartered coon,” I exhaled on a shaky breath, “When I came to, he didn’t ask any more questions, thank God. Just told Walter to take me home.”

“It’s all my fault.” Doretha, pale as a ghost herself, sat beside my limp bulk, now prostrate on her bed, as though posed for a wake viewing. I rolled my head to peer blearily at her. I’d just upchucked the hot dog Walter had insisted on buying me at the Super Grill — saying I’d not eaten a bite of supper. It was true. But the result was disgusting.

“Don’t say that, Doretha.” I patted her skinny little hand, unable to voice more at that precise moment.

“It’s true, Sunny. If I’d not asked you to come here that night —”

“Please — Doretha, don’t say that again.” I shuffled my back against the pillows, raising myself a bit. “Ever. When you do, it’s like you’re saying it shoulda been you.”

Her dark head slowly nodded, eyes downcast. “It shoulda.”

“
Why?”
I asked, incredulous at her insistence.

“ ‘Cause,” her gaze, soulfully sad, lifted to connect with mine, “you mean to make somethin’ o’ your life. Not like me — I don’t matter that much.”

“Doretha!” I sat up, took her by the shoulders and gazed into her bottomless gray eyes. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my whole life. Your life does so matter! I don’t know what I’d do without you being my friend. See who I came to tonight, don’t you? Not my family, that’s for sure. Nor Emaline. She’s so — innocent. And I don’t know how she’d take to my being pregnant and all…especially with her being engaged to a ministerial student.”

Shame.
I moaned as disbelief and shock blasted through me. “I don’t know what Walter thought o’ me groaning and takin’ on like a fool all the way over here.” I’d not told Walter anything except my ulcers were acting up. He watched me kinda funny but didn’t say anything. Not even when I told him to bring me to Doretha.

The phone, newly installed, jangled from the living room. Doretha slipped quietly through the door, leaving it cracked as she left. “Hello,” her small voice drifted back to me. “Daniel? My Lord. Where are you?”

Daniel?
My pulse tripped into syncopation. I felt moisture gather on my brow. Cold sweat.

“Sunny? Come talk to Daniel,” called Doretha. I arose on legs that felt jointless and stumbled my way to the living room. Everything looked dreamlike and hazy as I sank onto the brown couch.

“Daniel?” My voice quavered.

“Hey, Sunny,” he murmured so sweetly I thought I’d die. I burst into tears, swamped with so many emotions they squiggled like a bucket of night crawlers.

“What’s wrong, honey?” His concern hummed along the wires and into my skin.

“It’s — it’s just —” I struggled to gain control, swallowing back sobs for long moments.

“Sunny?”

“It’s just that I’m so glad to hear your voice.” I hiccuped then and we both laughed.

“Me, too,” he said.

“Where are you? Did you find your mama?”

“In Memphis.” A short, dry laugh. “Almost. Least I talked to a recent boyfriend. I found out all I needed to know. She’d already moved on.”

“And?”

“And nothing’s changed.” A long silence, then. “ I suppose once a whore, always a whore. I give up on ‘er.” The bitterness of his judgment smote me, turning me to ice. I heard no
forgiveness
. And I was in no position to counsel him. My numb fingers dropped the black receiver. Doretha grappled it from the linoleum floor and shoved it back into my hand, watching me closely, sliding her arm around me.

“I love you, Daniel,” I whispered, grief squeezing tears and life from me.
No forgiveness. No forgiveness….

All things change…all things change.

Everything had changed since I’d last heard his voice. Everything. Now,
I
was Mona, needing mercy and understanding.

“I’m coming home, Sunny,” he said softly, “to my wonderful, sweet girl. You’re like a breath of fresh air after being around Mona. I want to be there when you graduate. It’s the beginning of our dream.” The reverence in his voice shoved me over the edge. I burst into fresh tears.

Oh God! Oh God…

Fear has a coppery flavor. I can, after all these years, still recall its acrid taste on my cottony tongue. I tried to be brave. I truly did. But another fear latched onto me, digging in with wildcat claws — if anyone at school found out, I’d not be allowed to graduate. It was a written-in- blood law in District Five. No person married or pregnant was eligible for a diploma.

“B-bye, Daniel.” I dropped the phone into Doretha’s outstretched fingers like it was a hot poker, then buried my face in my hands. “I want to die, Doretha. I just want to die. Daniel will never be able to let it go.” She slid her arms around me and rested my head on her frail shoulder.

“Don’t tell ‘im.” Doretha’s quiet words connected , then jelled.

“What?” I raised my wet face and stared at her.

“You’re right. He won’t be able to let go of it. So, don’t tell ‘im. He don’t have to know.”

“We’re getting married in a week.”

She just looked at me, eyes faraway, yet — conveying a message I wanted to hear. One of hope.

My heart leaped. Could it be possible?

“Do you think —” I gazed at Doretha. Oh, dear
Lord,
how I wanted it.

Her little nod was all I needed. Daniel and I would still have our dream life.

Together. But first, I had to figure out
how.

~~~~~

The solution came to me the next night. I would just let Mother Nature take her course with Daniel and me. I didn’t exactly pray about it. Years later, as I look back, I realize I merely
told
God what I thought was the right way out.

“Me ‘n Tack’s getting’ married next month,” Francine announced at Nana’s supper table. “I’m sure glad you’n Aunt Tina made up,” she addressed me with a big ol’ grin, so rare on her she looked like another person entirely. “Makes it a lot easier to plan things with you stayin’ here.”

I was glad, too. Aunt Tina had come by the hotel the night before and apologized for ordering me from the house. Not for saying mean things about Ruth Bond, mind you. Her benevolence didn’t extend quite that far. But I was so tied in knots over what I was going to do about the mess I was in, I jumped at the peace offering like a starving dog to a pork chop. By bedtime, I’d packed up and moved back in.

So tonight was a celebration of sorts. Only the niggling apprehension riding shotgun in my bosom smothered the child’s excitement inside me. Francine’s display of joy was a milestone-thing. Seldom did she venture to include us in her exuberant moments.

Except for a tearful, thumb-sucking Rachel, the Acklins were glad to see me reconciled with my family

“You gonna have bridesmaids?” Sheila addressed Francine, her hope pathetically obvious. She was definitely going to be my attendant, along with Francine, and Emaline as my maid-of-honor. Daniel’s best man would be Walter.

“Nah.” Francine flipped her hair back and bit into her biscuit. “Except Sunny,” she muffled around a mouthful.

Sheila’s lids quickly lowered but not before I saw expectancy plunge and hurt flash in her eyes. “I didn’t want to be one, anyway.” She managed to sound flippant. “’Cept for bein’ in Sunny’s wedding.” Her head lifted and her chin jutted out as she glared at Francine.

“Nothin’ personal,” Francine shot her a flat look. “Just don’ want a big to-do.”

My stomach knotted.
Why
couldn’t they draw in the claws and simply be sisters? Why couldn’t Francine
stretch
just a tad and include her baby sis in the thing?
Oh no
. That would flow too, too easily. Bile rose in my throat, burning. Nausea. I swallowed while pushing food around in my plate, trying to look like I was eating. I hated the way my sisters fought over everything and nothing.

Dang it
! The food was a bit greasy for my weak stomach. Tasty, actually, by all mill hill standards. Nana’s thickening milk gravy was the best in the world. But right now, I contended with the reality of its taste coming
up.
Not good. Bad, in fact. Very, very bad. Just that thought set my gag reflex into overdrive.

I arose and left the table as quietly as possible. “Be right back,” I murmured over my shoulder so no one would follow. Being tonight’s celebrity, I knew that would happen if I didn’t put their minds at rest. “Gotta potty,” I tacked on for good measure, just barely suppressing a gag.

Once inside the bathroom, the floodgates burst. I’d learned how to regurgitate quietly, flushing the commode all along to cover any splashing sounds. When the surge subsided, I brushed my teeth and washed my face before returning to the table, relieved to have my stomach emptied of the sickening mass called food. At that precise moment, I didn’t see how I’d ever again consider edibles as anything but
nasty.

I’d just taken my seat when I heard the front door slam shut. I sat with my back to the kitchen door but I saw the looks on Francine and Sheila’s faces and I knew.

“Hey, Daniel!” Timmy called out, stumbling to his big adolescent feet. Now fifteen, he’d shot up in recent months, so help me Jehosophat, two inches. “Come on in, man.” He scuttled about, grabbing an extra chair and popping it in beside me.

“Have some supper,” Nana added, along with a chorus of assents. Even Aunt Tina loved Daniel. For some reason, this frissoned tremors through me like a loom’s steel shuttle. Ominous emotions slithered through me. Unsteadily, I rose to my feet. Overriding fear was my desire to see, to
feel
Daniel, my Lion-Man.