Unto These Hills (28 page)

“Honey,” I said soothingly, taking a step nearer, “you can’t drive until you’re feeling better. The doctor said —”

“
I don’t care what the doctor said!. I want my car!”
she shrieked, springing to her feet so fast I nearly fell over from shock. “
Now! Do you hear?”
She advanced on me and I instinctively recoiled, fear gripping me — oh, yes, I feared Muffin. Violence seethed and bubbled in her, like the mysterious black liquid in a witch’s brew. I gazed into her face, into her blue, blue eyes and saw only black. New shock coursed through me, causing my nape to rise —
someone else lurked behind them.

A demon
said a voice from somewhere.

Ice crept into my veins, chilling its way around my heart and through my brain and extremities. The hair on my nape rose up.

My fingers rolled into fists. “Come out of here!
Now
!” I hissed at the evil creature, knowing from my childhood sermons that there are forces of darkness that invade individuals at low points in their lives. I also knew demons were real. I’d felt them enough around Mama...and Francine…and at times, even around Sheila. All this came to me in that short moment, stunning me with revelation.

Muffin’s eyes slitted and she retreated a step, knocked off-center by my unusual aggression.

“Leave her
alo-o-one!”
I shrieked again at the
thing
behind those blue eyes. Muffin tensed but the eyes did not change. I shuddered, revolted.

“Sunny,” Daniel gripped my arm, yet gently. I gazed up at him, blinking, still reeling. “Come on. Let’s let Muffin sleep.”

“But it’s inside her, Daniel,” I insisted, my voice hoarse.

“She’s
nuts
,” Muffin snarled and stalked to her bed. “Nuttier’n a
fruitcake.”
She flopped down, pulled the covers up and tossed herself over to face the wall. “Get out of my room!”

I don’t know who was the happier to comply, Daniel or me.

~~~~~

Daniel and I drank coffee and ate slabs of carrot cake there in my little den, both tired beyond words. We didn’t need to talk. Never had. It was as though we’d never been apart.

“But it’s different,” Daniel said quietly, startling me anew with his ability to read my thoughts and finish my sentences.

I would have laughed but the moment was too sacrosanct. Instead I sighed. “Yes. Things
are
different.” We gazed at each other across the coffee table, over our propped sock and stocking feet. Our faces mirrored the other’s lost dreams and regrets. “There’s Walter,” I whispered.

Daniel schooled his features and asked, “How is Walter these days?”

I smiled. “Walter’s fine. Just fine, Daniel.”

I saw pain flicker in his eyes. “I did both of you wrong, Sunny. I’ve regretted it every day of my life. Yet — I hated Walter for years. Envied him. Wished him dead.”

“Daniel. You don’t have to —”

“Yes, I do, Sunny. I wish I had your ability to forgive. I don’t. But I want to.”

I set my cake aside, appetite vanished. “You can, Daniel. Just…let it go. Y’know? We all, the three of us, did hurtful things but what is, is. Actually, Walter’s the most untouched one of us.” I chuckled. “Heck, he doesn’t even remember his daddy. Or mama. After the accident, I was a total stranger to him. He would have gladly given me back to you had you asked.”

I meant it as a joke but Daniel didn’t laugh. Just gazed at me steadily until I grew uncomfortable. “What?” I asked.

“You,” he said quietly. “Wish life could be so simple for me. You’ve always had a good heart, Sunny. You didn’t deserve what life handed you. Not from your mama. Your daddy. Or me. But here you sit, able to laugh.”

“Better to laugh than cry,” I quipped, bit my lip to stem tears, then said. “You know Daddy died two years back, don’t you?”

He looked shocked. “No. How — what killed him?”

“Cancer. We were all with him, except Sheila.” I sighed heavily. “Felt she didn’t belong there, in the family circle. Daddy hated things turned out like they did. He didn’t plan to abandon us. We just had our lives here, with Nana. He acquired a new family and all…so that’s the way it was.” I shrugged.

“That’s what I mean, Sunny. You don’t let things get you down. You don’t brood like I do.” His wasn’t whining. It was just fact, his dark side. We both knew it. We also knew that his dark side had separated us all those years ago.

“Remember that bank account?” I asked.

“Ours?” He asked, knowing good and well I’d avoided using ‘ours’ because it hurt too much. “Yeh. I hope you used it.”

“Nope. It’s still there. I’ve kept it all through the years. Most of it was yours, anyway.”

“Use it when you need it.” He didn’t say anything more for long moments. Then he arose and pulled on his black leather bomber jacket, looking as trim and firm as eighteen-year-old Daniel. Yet — broader and more manly. I walked him to the door determined not to pay heed to the electric current connecting us, drawing me to him like steel to a magnet.

“Sunny, I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll be visiting all along but I’ve got business matters to take care of in Colorado in the next few months, before I retire from service. If there’s ever anything I can do to help you and Walter, promise me you’ll let me know. Anything.”

I was in shock from hearing he was leaving so soon. My eyes misted. “I-I guess I figured you’d be here from now on.” I huffed a little laugh, gazing at him through the blur. “Just wishin’, is all. Take care now, y’hear?” I reached up to hug him and then his arms were around me for long moments, a time when he embraced me like he never wanted to let go, when my arms looped tighter around his neck. And I felt his lips press to my neck and his Aqua Velva mingle with my Avon
Wild Rose,
creating our own unique fragrance.

Suddenly, I was released and he stepped back, his eyes unusually bright, his rugged features solemn. “Remember what I said, Sunny. Anything. Just let me know.”

I still reeled from the abrupt disconnection. “I’ll be okay, Daniel. I —”

“I let you down once, Sunny,” he whispered, his finger grazing my cheek, his lips a breath away. “I won’t ever again.”

In the next heartbeat, he was gone.

~~~~~

I turned from the door, wiping tears from my cheek. Then I saw her.

Muffin. Paused, halfway down the stairs. Eyes slitted, face cold. Of course, I was accustomed to her coldness but it was the stillness of her, an ungodly
awareness
that felt like she stripped me naked and skinned me alive. And I knew.

“You’re jus’ full of surprises, Mama,” she said flippantly. Yet — her eyes, flat, glassy, spewing venom, said otherwise. “Now I know why you never loved Daddy. It was him. Daniel, wadn’t it?”

I licked my lips, knowing she’d seen us embrace, heard Daniel’s confession — all of it.
Dear God!

“Muffin, it’s not what you th —”

“
Stuff it,
Mama,” she said flatly, descending, holding tightly to the banister rail. “I’m sure Daddy’ll be interested to know about that touching little good-bye.” She stumbled down the steps, and staggered toward Walter’s room, knocking over a kitchen chair.

I stiffened. “Muffin! Don’t you dare upset your Daddy over —” Seeing she ignored me, I rushed to block her. But considering her ER ordeal she was still remarkably strong, plowing past me as if I were no more than a floating feather.

Rammed by her, the door to Walter’s darkened room burst open and she plodded through, bumping into furniture in her path. “
Daddy!”
she called as a glass on his little TV tray table went crashing to the floor, bringing Walter upright in his bed and, despite the earlier tranquilizer, quaking, his eyes wide with terror.

I could have killed her in that moment. Instead, I stood frozen in the doorway, hands pressed to mouth, dreading….

“Daddy,” Muffin plopped down onto his bedside, right in his face, “there’s somethin’ you gotta know —”

“Muffin.
Don’t.”
I rushed to Walter, on the opposite side of the bed. He turned frightened eyes to me and I took his hands in mine. “Don’t listen to her, Walter.”

Muffin snorted, slurring words, “I’ll jus’
bet
you don’ want ‘im to hear this. I’m sick o’ your lyin’ and pretendin’ to be so
good
when — hell, you’re no better’n your
sisters.”

All this time, Walter’s head moved frantically to and fro, watching us each in turn, trying to decipher what horror poised to pounce. “What’s she talkin’ ‘bout, Sunny?” His voice trembled. His eyes beseeched me, puddling.

Muffin roughly caught his chin and tugged, forcing him to look into her wild eyes, only a breath from his. “She’s a
whore,
Daddy. I saw her carryin’ on with Daniel, your
own brother.”

I felt her words impact Walter, in the way his fingers squeezed mine till I felt pain in the way his gaze swung to lock with mine, stricken. “Wha — what’s she sayin’, Sunny?”

“Don’t listen, Walter. She’s only trying to hurt me. It’s not true. I was only telling Daniel goodbye. He’s leaving and won’t be back for a long time.”

“D-Daniel was
here?”
Walter sat up straighter, his senses visibly keening.

“Yeh,” snorted Muffin, bobbing her head, “But you notice, he wadn’ interested in
you,
Daddy. Only
Mama.
Don’t that tell you somethin’?” Another snort. “That was
some
goodbye, all that huggin’ and them saying how they’re in love and —”

“That’s enough, Muffin.” I glared at her, horrified, wishing in that moment that she weren’t my daughter. “This time, you’ve surpassed yourself. Even if you don’t love
me,
why this cruelty to your father? He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Yeh, like you
love him
.” The bed shifted as she struggled to her feet and groped her way across the floor. She cursed when her bare foot connected with a shard of broken glass. I didn’t care. Wished, in fact, that she’d feel just a little of the pain she so glibly inflicted on others. A zigzag trail of blood stains marked her wobbly departure.

Walter dropped my hands and peered at me as though he’d been shot between the eyes and just hadn’t fallen yet. “You don’t love me, Sunny?” he croaked, as innocently as Jason or Gracie.

My heart lurched. “Of course, I do, Walter.” I gathered him into my arms and cuddled him, rocked him gently. “You can’t believe Muffin. She’s — her mind’s sick and she says bad things to hurt people.”

“Like mine?” he asked quietly, so naïve my heart splintered.

“What?” I asked, rearing back to gauge him. How pitiful he looked, the blue eyes tortured. Oh, how I wanted to t
hrottle
Muffin.

“Like my mind.
Sick
.” He seemed to cave in as his eyes drifted to stare into space.

“No! Your mind might be a little slow, Walter, but it’s not sick. You’re a good person who loves people. Muffin just — for some reason, can’t stand to see others happy.”

Walter stunned me by saying, “It’s all that stuff she takes. Them pills an’ all.”

He sees, hears, and perceives more than I’ve accredited to him.
“You’re right, it is. Somewhere deep down inside her, there’s that sweet little girl of ours, Walter, the one who loved like no tomorrow.”

He looked at me then, puzzled. I smiled and brushed back that crazy curl that still, after all these years, sprang free to lay on his forehead. Only the yellow had evolved to white. “I keep forgetting. You don’t remember, do you, honey? She was a real sweetie-pie. A real Daddy’s-Girl….” I went on to talk about the baby, toddler, child
Muffin.
It was, to him, like a fairy-tale, his favorite one. As always, he began to grin and grin and watch me expectantly for the next funny or touching anecdote from those early years. I talked until his eyelids drooped. Then closed. Only then did I start to move away —

“Sunny?” He caught my hand as I shifted to stand. I lowered myself again, seeing the troubled look on his face.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re not gon’ leave me, are you? Muffin said you don’t love me and — Daniel don’t like me. Why don’t Daniel like me, like Lee Roy does, Sunny? You’re not gon’ leave, are you?” His breathing grew labored as tears rushed to his eyes.

I leaned to quickly hug him. “Dear God,
no.
And I
do love you.
And Daniel likes you
.
How could he not? You’re his
brother
.” I gently touched his cheek. “I love you very much.” And I did, in a motherly, nurturing way. “You must believe that, Walter.” I looked at him imploringly, hating that Muffin had done this to him, hating myself that I’d given her fodder by allowing myself to
feel
when Daniel —

“You do, don’t you? Believe me?”
Please, Lord, don’t let this wound be
forever
. I held my breath for long moments, dying a thousand deaths.

Then suddenly, he smiled. “Yeh. I believe you, Sunny.” Relief flooded me till I felt dizzy with it and I hugged him again. I had my best friend back and we grinned hugely at each other.

Then his smile faded. “Muffin’s just — sick.” He gazed into my eyes solemnly and I felt our souls connect in mutual sorrow. “But she’ll get better, won’t she?” His eyes beseeched me for reassurance.

I forced a smile. “Sure.” He relaxed and his lids slid shut.

My smile faded.
Will we ever have her back — our Muffin?

In that moment, I had serious doubts.

~~~~~

I called Doretha and asked to speak to Daniel. When I told him of Muffin’s cruel revelation to Walter, he said, “Muffin’s worse off than I thought.” Not unkindly. Just acceptance.

“Daniel —” I hesitated, not knowing how to say it. Though I
knew
Muffin’s emotional frailties, her calling me
whore
still stung. Badly. Shame oozed through me like slime. “We can’t —” I couldn’t go on.

“I know,” Daniel said softly. “I know, Sunny. We can only be friends. If that’s possible.”

Silence crackled over the wires and my heart and soul felt like they slowly drained out my feet. I tried to take a deep breath and couldn’t. I was drowning in space. “No — I meant…we can’t see each other again, Daniel.”