When the Tide Ebbs: An epic 1930's love story (A Grave Encounter) (21 page)

Mama turned and faced Dabney. “Oh, sweet, sweet Dabney. You’ve been like a daughter to me. I’m so proud of you.”

Dabney laid her head on Mama’s chest and sobbed. “Oh, Fennie, no one has ever been proud of me. Please don’t leave us.”

Mama patted her head. She looked up at me and formed a weak smile. “Kiah, shug, I’ll soon see Zann . . . won’t that be somethin’—me walking up there on them streets of gold and living in a mansion? And one day, my sweet Kiah-Cooter, you’ll join us there. I believe that with all my heart.”

Her eyes moistened as she fixed her gaze on me. “Son, I know you’re filled with bitterness toward the church, but I’ve prayed for God to soften your heart. One day, you’ll understand just how much He loves you.”

I swallowed. I wanted to turn the conversation around. I’d never been able to give Mama much, and perhaps this was my last opportunity to do something special for her. “Mama, if you could make a wish, what would it be?”

“You mean something other than seeing you give your heart to the Lord?”

I winced. We’d covered the topic enough times for her to know we weren’t going to reach an agreement. I’d been dogmatic before, and though I never admitted it to Mama, I did have questions—more tonight than ever. If she did go to heaven, and if Zann was there—then I’d be crazy not to want to go too. But I had plenty of time to settle that later. Mama’s mind was already settled on the subject. She had no doubts. How I wished I could have her assurance. But of all the things I was, there was one thing I wasn’t. I wasn’t a fake. As much as it’d please Mama for me to say, “Hallelujah, I believe,” she knew I’d never say anything I didn’t mean.

She didn’t bat an eye, before she answered. “Well, if I made a wish, I’d wish to die in Oklahoma, since that’s my home.” I gathered from her prompt reply that this was something she’d been thinking on for some time.

I determined then and there my mama would have her wish. The lump in my throat seemed to shrink. There was something Mama wanted, and I could give it to her. “Mama, you hold on, you hear? Hold on, ‘til morning, ‘cause you and I are taking a trip.”

“A trip? Not to Oklahoma. We can’t.”

“Who says we can’t? Of course, we can.”

Mama frowned. “You can’t miss school. I won’t hear of it.” She slurred her words, as her eyes closed.

“Don’t argue, Mama. We’re going, so you close your eyes and rest. I’ll ride Dolly into town tonight and look at the bus schedule. We’ll take the earliest bus available in the morning.”

I wasn’t sure how much she heard, since she fell asleep before I finished talking.

Dabney had already begun packing Mama’s things. She fastened the clasp on the brown checkered suitcase, and said, “I think I’ve packed everything. I’ve made a pot of coffee, if you’d like a cup before you leave, Kiah.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “And Dabney, I’m sorry for firing off at you tonight. You’ve been a swell friend, and I have no right to tell you how to live your life.”

She pulled two cups from the cupboard and poured the steaming black coffee. She sat down and took a sip. “Kiah, I want to go with you to Oklahoma.”

I gave a short chuckle. “That’s sweet of you, Dabney, but it’s out of the question.”

She raised her brow. “Why? Why can’t I go, Kiah?”

I shrugged. “Why should you? I know you think a lot of Mama and she loves you too, but this is my responsibility. Not yours.”

“Kiah, you asked me why? I’ll tell you why, though I think it should be obvious. I love you, Kiah. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

She caught me off guard. “Dabney, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do. I never expected you to love me. Zann was your type. She was sweet and innocent. You hated me for what I was, but I changed Kiah, and I did it for you.”

I took a swallow of coffee and choked. “Yeah? Since last night when you and Arnold got together?” I wanted to cut my tongue out. Why did I keep hounding her as if it were any of my business how she chose to live her life?

Her face lit up like a neon light. Her voice trembled. “Kiah Grave, I can’t stand Arnold Evers. How could I, after what he did to . . .” She stopped short. The color drained from her face.

My pulse raced. “Finish, Dabney. What were you about to say? After he did what to whom?”

“Forget it.” She whispered. “I don’t know what I was saying.”

My heart pounded. “Sure you do. You were saying you hate Arnold because he raped Zann. That’s it, isn’t it?” The blood boiled in my veins.

Dabney sobbed. “Kiah, I didn’t mean to tell you. Zann didn’t want you to know.”

I glanced at Mama to make sure she was still sleeping, when my voice rose. “And you—you entertained the creep last night, knowing he was the one who—?” Tears rushed to my eyes. How could she? Arnold Evers? I’d kill the jerk. First, I’d get Mama to Oklahoma, but after that, I’d hunt him down like a blood hound and rip his eyeballs out of the sockets. He’d never look at another pretty girl, the way he looked at Zann.

Dabney reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. I jerked away. “Kiah, I tried to tell you I didn’t entertain him. I didn’t. Arnold showed up at my door, but I didn’t let him in. He told me he’d been staying with relatives in Alabama, but would be hopping a train to Memphis after the holidays. Then he left. And that’s the truth.”

It no longer mattered to me why he was at Dabney’s door, or whether he went in the house or stayed all night, for that matter. All I could think of was Zann and the horrid image in my mind of her helplessly trying to fight him off, while waiting for me to show up to defend her.

Dabney lifted her head. “Kiah, do you believe me?”

I looked her squarely in the eyes and had no doubt she was telling the truth. “Sure, Dabney. I believe you,” I mumbled. “I do.” I walked toward the door. “I have a favor to ask. Would you mind staying with Mama ‘til I get back from town?”

She nodded. “You know I will.”

I rode Dolly to the Greyhound Bus Station. The bus would be leaving at 6:15 in the morning. Not much time to get back, pack my things and get to sleep before time to leave again. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep, anyway. I stopped by the yard to tell Mr. Farris I’d be leaving town. He offered to buy Dolly and the wagon and said he’d pick them up from the bus station the next day.

When I arrived back at the house, I dreaded saying goodbye to Dabney. She honestly thought she was in love with me, and I was unable to convince her otherwise.

She cried and threw her arms around my neck, when I walked her to her door. “Please, Kiah. Please take me with you. I know you don’t love me yet, but you will. I’ll make you love me. I’ll do anything you ask of me. I’ll make you a good wife. I will.”

For a moment, I almost relented. Not because I loved her. Sure, I liked her. I liked her a lot. But I didn’t love her. I’d never love anyone again, not after knowing the real thing. So why not take her up on her offer? She knew the score. She’d make a good companion. Someone to come home to at night. Would that be so bad? I put my arms around her.

“Dabney, Dabney, please don’t cry. I don’t deserve you.”

She reared her head from off my shoulder, and stared into my eyes. “
You
? Don’t deserve
me
?”

“That’s right. You’re a sweet kid and I’m a real chump. You’ve done everything to try and erase your past, but I keep bringing it back up. I don’t mean to, but I do. I’m no good for you.”

“Oh, Kiah, you’re the only good thing that’s ever crossed my path. Please, I beg of you, take me with you? You won’t be sorry, I promise.”

“But don’t you see, Dabney? You’d be the one sorry, because I’d keep throwing it up in your face. I’d hate myself afterward, but I’m the one who can’t seem to change. It wouldn’t be fair to you. One day, you’ll meet a fine fellow who’ll love you so much that he’ll not only forgive your past, but he’ll also be able to forget.”

She tightened her grip and squalled. “I’ll make
you
forget. I promise. I will, Kiah. I will.”

I hated to leave her behind. I sucked in a deep breath and wondered if we could make it work. I, of all people, had no right to judge anyone for past mistakes. I’d made plenty, myself. Dabney was a swell kid, and I couldn’t deny I enjoyed her company. The idea sounded appealing. But I had no idea how long it’d take to hunt down Arnold Evers. If I completed my mission, I’d wind up in the hoosegow. Maybe the electric chair. No. I couldn’t take on the responsibility of a wife.

I pulled Dabney’s hands from around my neck and pecked her on the cheek. “Goodbye, Dabney. I’ll write when I can.”

She wiped her eyes. “You aren’t coming back, are you?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

With trembling lips, she pleaded. “Kiah, in less than six months, you’ll have your high school diploma, and a college scholarship waiting for you. Surely, you aren’t going to throw it all away.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. She knew.

Chapter 18

Dabney opened the door at five o’clock the next morning and stuck her head in. “I saw the light from your window. I came over to help Fennie get dressed.”

“Thanks,” I said, grateful she was there, but dreading having to say goodbye all over again.

Seeing her all fresh and bright-eyed at dawn, took my breath away. Never had she looked more beautiful as she did in the pink chenille robe with her long, blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders. My eyes traced the flawless outline of her features from her forehead to her cute little chin. Her well-scrubbed face made a radiant backdrop for eyes that sparkled like blue sapphires.

I had to be strong and remind myself that although Dabney had made a dent in my heart, I was not in love with her. I wasn’t. What I felt was sympathy for someone I cared deeply for—and if I hadn’t experienced true love in my lifetime, possibly I could’ve mistaken my feelings for Dabney for the real thing. But it wasn’t and I couldn’t fake it.

I doubted seriously that Dabney was in love with me, but she had nothing to compare her feelings with. She’d never known love, and that grieved me. As painful as it was to lose Zann, it was better to have loved her and lost than never to have loved at all. If I knew how to pray, my prayer would be for God to bring someone into Dabney’s life to love her the way she deserved to be loved.

I watched as she tenderly bathed Mama. She picked up Mama’s Sunday dress and drew the curtain, before dressing her. I heard her gasp. “Oh, Kiah, she’s covered with a horrible rash. It’s even worse than the break-out on her arms. Is it—?”

“Pellagra? Yes. I think so, but she won’t let me send for the doctor. She’s practically stopped eating. Says food makes her sick on her stomach. Mama’s been puny for a long time, so I didn’t see this coming. At the first signs of a rash, I assumed she’d gotten into poison oak while out picking poke salat.”

Dabney pulled back the curtain, and I could see the tears welling in her eyes, when she reached down and hugged Mama.

A lump formed in my throat, but I couldn’t let her moistened eyes hinder my plans.

I motioned for her to walk over toward the sink, then cleared my throat and whispered, “Mama seems a mite stronger this morning, though she appears to be a bit confused. She’s still very weak, but I have hopes that we’ll make it to Oklahoma. I was doubtful last night that she’d see another sunrise.”

Dabney handed me a bottle, which she held in her hand. “This is paregoric. I got it from the pharmacy when Alexandra had a bout of colic. I’ve kept it in my purse, but she no longer needs it. It’s for pain. The directions are on the bottle. Give Fennie a dose before you board the bus and it should ease her pain but it will also help her to sleep on the trip.”

I picked up Mama’s suitcase, and bundled up a changing of clothes for me in a red flannel shirt.

Mama hugged Dabney and pushed something in her hands.

Dabney threw her hand over her mouth and shrieked. “Your brooch? I can’t take this, Fennie.”

Mama smiled. “But you must. You’re my only daughter, and the brooch is a family heirloom. Will and I always wanted more children, but we’re so proud of you and Kiah.”

I looked at Dabney. Her eyes widened. My throat tightened when Mama followed with, “Did you know Will is coming home to Goat Hill tomorrow and he’s bringing me a chocolate set from England? I can hardly wait to see my darling. I’ve missed him so. He’s been gone a whole month.”

Dabney combed Mama’s hair and played along, but I couldn’t stand to listen to such lunacy. Though Mama had no idea what she was saying, the anger inside me reached a boiling point. I wasn’t mad at Mama, or at least I didn’t think I was. I sometimes felt my body was programmed to fly into a rage at the mere mention of my father.

I wanted to throw up when Mama said, “Oh, my sweet little Dabney. You’ve always been a daddy’s girl. You’ve missed your father, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

Dabney’s lips trembled. “More than you know, Mama. More than you know.”

Mama had a faint smile on her face. “Poor Will. Bless his heart, he loves us so, and it breaks his heart to be away, but he has obligations, which demand his time. Surely, you and your brother realize how much we mean to him. He’d be with us, if he could.” She reached up and touched Dabney’s cheek. “You do know that, don’t you, sugar?”

Dabney sniffed. “Sure, Mama. We know.” She tried to slip the brooch into my hand. I shook my head. “No, she wants you to have it.” The brooch had been very special to Mama, though I couldn’t imagine why. I thought of all the lean years when we both went to bed hungry, yet the expensive, antique brooch stayed pinned to the inside of Mama’s purse.

Mama patted Dabney’s hand that clutched the small, bejeweled pin. “Dabney, the stones are rubies, you know. Real rubies. It belonged to my granny, who passed it down to her first born daughter. Ma gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday, the day I left home. And now you can pass it down to your daughter.”

Dabney glanced at me and smiled, sort of pitiful like, as if Mama was still talking out of her head.

My anger faded. Dabney’s patience with Mama touched my heart. If only I could be so kind. I whispered in her ear. “It’s true. The stones
are
real, and it is an heirloom.”

Dabney’s eyes widened. “Oh, Kiah, I can’t . . .”

“Sure you can.”

“Why do you suppose Fennie was carrying on so about a chocolate set?”

I lifted my shoulders. “Something she dreamed, I suppose.”

Dabney said, “I wonder if all these years she’s yearned for one. You think?”

I shrugged. “Could be, but it’s the first time I’ve ever heard her mention it.” With Mama’s state of mind, it was impossible to separate sense from the senseless. She rambled incessantly during her waking hours. About the time I’d think her mind was clear, she’d start talking out of her gourd again.

I smiled, thinking of Dabney’s reply when Mama asked if she missed her father. I whispered, “So, sis, you really miss Pop, huh?” I smirked. “Me too. Good ol’ Pop.”

Dabney didn’t seem amused. She answered, “Kiah, my response wasn’t as far-fetched as you might think. I understood Fennie’s dream and I must confess for a moment I wanted to share in her wonderful fantasy—that we’re one big, happy family from Goat Hill, Alabama.”

After Dabney finished dressing Mama, I helped her on the wagon, while Dabney watched from the front stoop. Our eyes met. I hesitated, then walked over to where she stood and kissed her lightly on the cheek. I felt like a heel, leaving Dabney behind. But wouldn’t it be worse to marry her, knowing I’d never love her the way a man should love a wife?

“Dabney, I really wish—”

She didn’t allow me to finish. “I know,” she said in a flattened voice. No doubt she did, but it didn’t make leaving her any easier.

“Promise you’ll write?” She asked.

“I promise.”

The trip was long and hard. Mama’s mind came and went. At times, she was perfectly coherent. At other times, she thought I was my father, and she was Mrs. Will Lancaster, and we were on a cruise ship on our way to England. Had this been her fantasy for eighteen years? I’d loathed the man all my life, but now I hated him more than ever.

Even with the paregoric, Mama’s pain became unbearable. The writhing pain on her face tore my heart in two.

In her lucid moments, she continuously murmured two words, “Promise, me. Promise me.”

I pretended not to understand. She wanted me to promise I’d look up the scumbag who deserted her before I was born. I didn’t want to make such a promise, but to calm her, I finally nodded. “Okay, Mama. I promise. Now, stop worrying. All this fretting is zapping your strength.”

Whenever she dozed I panicked and checked her pulse, hoping she’d hold on long enough to put her feet on Oklahoma soil. We were about twenty miles from her hometown in Dry Plains, Oklahoma when I reached for her arm and there was no pulse. I ran my fingers up and down her wrist, hoping I was wrong. She had to be alive. Had to be. But in my heart, I knew she was gone. I couldn’t let anyone see my panic, for fear I’d be put off the bus before we reached our destination. As we drove into town, a large sign in front of a two-story house caught my eye—“Dry Plains Funeral Home.”

We pulled up to the bus stop and I tied the red bundle onto my belt loop, then picked Mama up in my arms. I saw no need to retrieve her suitcase. She wouldn’t need it. As I stepped off the bus, the driver questioned me. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s resting.” I mumbled. “Mama’s been very ill, but she’ll be okay.” It was the truth. Mama
would
be okay. All her troubles were over. But mine had only begun. What do you do with a dead body in a strange town? With her in my arms, I walked two blocks to the funeral home and rung the doorbell. It was late.

A tall, slender fellow in a double-breasted suit opened the door. He looked as if he’d never seen a corpse before.

“Young man,” he gasped. “What have we here?”

I was tired, worried and not in the mood for needless chatter. “
We
have a dead body. She’s my Mama and
we
need to bury her.”

He ushered me to a back room and told me to lay Mama on a long table. After he determined I was poor and there was no need to go through his normal sales pitch he agreed to let me have a plain pine box. He said he’d lay her out and deliver her body to Potter’s Field for ten bucks.

I waited on the steps of the funeral home for three hours, before the hearse pulled up and the mortician motioned for me to get in. We drove to the edge of town, and rode down a long dirt road to a large field, where graves were marked only with wooden crosses. Many had no markers at all. The moon was full and I had an eerie feeling as I listened to the sound of a hoot owl in the distance. We lifted the pine box from the back of the hearse. “Pick your spot,” he said, showing little compassion.

What difference did it make? We sat the box on the ground. The mortician went back to the hearse and picked up a shovel and handed to me. “You can leave it here, when you finish,” he said. “I’ll pick it up later.” I had naively expected him to help dig her grave, but he turned and drove away.

After digging in the hard soil for hours, I laid down on the cold ground beside Mama’s grave, exhausted. I awoke at dawn, tied two sticks together with my leather boot strap to form a cross, and hammered it into the ground with the back of the shovel. The pain in my chest was almost unbearable. Mama deserved much better than what I could give her. I wondered if I’d done the right thing by leaving Dabney behind. Surely, Mama would’ve wanted her here for the burying.

I truly wished that I could’ve fallen in love with Dabney. I hated this lonely feeling, but it seemed to be my lot in life. I wanted to throw wild flowers on the grave and sing something appropriate, but all I could think of was “Yes, We Have No Bananas.” The stupid lyrics to the song kept popping up in my head and I couldn’t seem to erase them. Mama lay dead, and all I could think of was some silly song. “Oh, Mama, I wish I could go with you, where you’re going. I really do—but I’m a mess. I’ll never be good like you.” I knelt down on the cold ground and began to hum a familiar tune. But what was it? I kept humming until the words came to me. “Just as I am, without one plea . . .” A sharp pain shot through my chest.

I stopped singing, lifted my head toward heaven and screamed, “Lord, you think I don’t want to come? You think I wouldn’t want to be up there walking on those golden streets with Mama and Zann? Of course, I do. But I can’t. Not just as I am. I’m not good like Mama and Zann. I’m rotten to the core.”

I tried to compose myself. Mama wouldn’t have wanted me to yell at God. I recalled another song, although I wasn’t sure it was a religious song. I started belting out the words to “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.” That one made me smile, for I could almost hear Mama singing it with me. I supposed it was one of her favorites, since she sang it often as she worked around the house.

I longed for a Parson to say kind words over her grave. It only seemed proper, though I didn’t know why. Surely, Mama would’ve wanted Bible words spouted at a time like this, and though she’d read to me from the Good Book plenty of times, regretfully, I hadn’t absorbed much. There was this one prayer that I’d heard her pray countless times. I tried to say it the way I remembered Mama saying it, even though I couldn’t make sense out of it.

“Our Father, how be your name? Your kingdom come, your will be done—” There was much more, and it had something to do with daily bread, and forgiveness but I couldn’t put it all together. I stood there for a good five minutes with my eyes closed, hoping the words would come. I drew a blank. Why didn’t I pay more attention to my sweet Mama? I suppose I turned her off when she got to the forgiveness part. Will Lancaster didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

After giving up on the prayer, I struggled to recall the words to one of her favorite Bible passages. I’d heard her repeat it so many times, I was sure I could say it if I put my mind to it. “The Lord is my—” A frog caught in my throat and I realized I had to improvise. “Lord, you were Mama’s Shepherd and she was not one to want for more. She laid down in green pastures and—something, something, and—” I sucked in a breath and tried to think. Then it came to me. “Though she walked through the valley of the shadow of death, she feared no evil, for you walked with her.” My pulse raced. All these years, I resented God and now all of a sudden I was grateful that He was always there to comfort Mama and give her peace, even in the worst of circumstances. With sobs billowing up from my diaphragm, I lifted my eyes toward the sky, because if Mama was right and there really was a Heaven, I reckoned that’s where she’d be. I finished with the words, “And her cup ran over. Slap over the top. It ran over with love and poured out on me.”