| 15 | ||
|
The Secret Lydie, look! An eagle. It's got a trout!" Beth's voice echoed in Lydia's mind as she pointed to the huge bird overhead. Lydia sat up and watched in silence as the majestic bird winged northward, the trout still wiggling in its talons and disappeared behind the trees. "Magnificent!" Lydia brushed her sister's freckled cheek with her finger. Look at these, Lydie. Aren't they beautiful? Beth thrust a scrunched wad of wild flowers into Lydia's face. "They are very beautiful, Beth." Lydie . . . talk with you mind.. "I don't like mind speak. You know that." Lydie, please? Lydia studied Beth's impish face. Ironic, how everyone pitied poor deaf-mute Beth . . . too dumb to learn to sign or read lips. But then they didn't know she had flat refused. And why should she when she could read everyone's thoughts. She made Beth promise never to use it with anyone but her. "You have to promise to keep it our secret." Okay, Lydia sighed. But don't think it's an all the time thing. Beth pounced on Lydia and they both fell back on the grass, tumbling and laughing until they gasped for breath. It felt so good to laugh. Lydia hadn't laughed since it happened. Since it happened . . . the darkness rushed back and she fell silent. What's the matter, Lydie? Why did you stop? It makes me happy to see you laugh. Lydia forced a smile and stretched out her arms. "It's getting late and we best be getting back. Help me up." Beth grabbed Lydia's hands and pulled her to her feet. Can I ask a question, Lydie? "What question?" The question you don't like me to ask." "About leaving, I suppose." Lydia glanced at Beth's profile in the fading sunlight. She looked like Momma with her freckles and dark auburn hair. Too bad she'd died having Beth and never got to know her. Momma would have loved talking mind speak with her. Do we have to leave here, Lydie? I don't ever want to leave here. Everything's okay now, isn't it? Nothing would ever be okay again. If only she could undo it all. But she couldn't. She could only take Beth away and make a life for them both somewhere far away from this place. "We can't stay here Beth, you know that. Besides, we already decided about what we were going to do. We'd wait a while then go to the sheriff and tell him—" "We can't. They'll know it wasn't an accident. They'll take you away and I'll never see you again!" Beth glared at Lydia with wide, hysterical eyes. Lydia grabbed her shoulders and shook her. 'I told you never, never to say that! Not even to think it!" Tears sprang into Beth's eyes. Lydia bit her lip and pulled Beth to her breast, burying her face in Beth's auburn hair. "No one will separate us, Beth. I promise. I know going to the sheriff seems crazy but it's the only way." Lydia pushed Beth to arm's length. "You do trust me, don't you?" Beth nodded and dropped her head. Lydia hooked her arm through Beth's and led her down the hill toward the cabin. She'd practiced her story over and over so that it flowed without a flaw. The sheriff had to believe her . . . it meant their lives. Lydia gave Beth's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing will happen to us Beth. We'll go far away where no one knows us. Everything will be okay. You'll see." Back at the cabin, Beth arranged the flowers and built a fire in the fireplace while Lydia made supper. They ate in silence, like a husband and wife who had nothing left to discuss. Beth picked at her food avoiding eye contact. Finally, Lydia patted her on the arm. Beth looked up, a dark shadow flitting behind her green eyes. "You still haven't told me why you want to stay." Beth gazed into Lydia's eyes and she couldn't look away. "How many times do I have to tell you? We can't take a chance that they find him. We have to leave to protect us both. I'm going to the sheriff tomorrow." Beth's eyes narrowed and for a brief moment, Lydia felt a pulling in her mind like a tightening cord. Lydie, they will never find him. That mine is too deep. Let's go to bed now. We'll talk more tomorrow. Lydia lay awake for a long time trying to figure out why Beth would want to say in this awful place. So many horrible memories here, so much pain . . . Tree branches, tossed by the wind, scraped across the window as they performed a shadowy dance on the wall in the moonlight. Lydia's heavy eyelids closed and she slipped into the night. Darkness . . . she couldn't move . . . he was crushing her . . . she tried to push him off but she couldn't. No Daddy . . . please stop . . . it hurts Daddy . . . he didn't stop . . . tears ran into her hair . . . she felt confused, dirty. Everything changed. She was in a different place . . . Beth! He was hurting Beth! She had the gun . . . she pointed it and fired . . . he flew backward, spattering the walls with blood. . . Beth screamed and screamed . . . Lydia sprang awake, gasping, heart pounding in her chest. Her sweat soaked gown and hair clung to her trembling body. She hadn't meant to kill him—only to scare him. Oh God, it was an accident. She only wanted to defend Beth; keep him from doing to her what he'd done to her all those years. She lay back down and rolled herself into a tight ball. "Jesus loves me this I know . . ." she sang to herself. Usually familiar tune dissolved the fear and brought some comfort. But not tonight. She was twelve the last time he came into her room. She'd hidden a knife under her pillow and waited until she heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Trembling, she'd pulled it out as he swung the door open. The blade flashed in the dim light. "Touch me and I'll cut your belly open," she hissed as he leaned over her bed. He staggered backward. "Why, Lydia. You wouldn't hurt your own Daddy, would you? You're my favorite darlin' girl." His voice was thick and stank of alcohol. As he reached out to grab her she slashed at him, the tip of the blade scoring his palm. He jumped back with a snarl and glared at her. "Don't ever touch me again. Or Beth. Don't ever touch Beth. If you touch either me or Beth, I'll kill you. Do you hear me? I'll kill you!" Five years had passed yet the touch of his rough hands and smell of alcohol was still so horribly real. "Jesus loves me . . .," she sang softly to herself. Mama had sung that song to her and told her stories about the gentle carpenter from Galilee. Jesus loved her back then before Mamma died and Daddy started coming into her room at night. That's when everything changed. Though she knew Jesus didn't love her now, she still like the song. "Yes, Jesus loves me . . ." Lydie? Are you asleep? Lydia felt the gently probe in her mind. No Beth. Please don't be mad at me. I'm not mad at you. Lydia slipped from her cot and walked across the room to her sister's bed where she knelt and took her in her arms. The moon shone through the window, white and cold, flooding the room with a pale light. Softly she sang, "Jesus loves me this I know . . ." For a moment they were children again, Lydia singing away Beth's night dreams. If only she could undo all that had happened. She should have known her father would go after Beth. She should have tried harder to keep him away. Tears ran down Lydia's face. Lydie? It's not your fault. Beth's intrusion into her thoughts startled her and she snapped her mind shut. "Try and get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll walk up to the lake. Maybe take a picnic lunch, okay?" Beth smiled and nodded. Lydia kissed Beth on the forehead and went back to her own bed. Tomorrow . . . she had go to Sheriff Mike tomorrow. The gray morning light filtered into the corners of the room. Lydia opened her eyes and casually glanced over at Beth's cot, then sat up and stared at it. The blankets were thrown back in an empty heap with Beth's flannel gown tossed carelessly on top. "Beth? Where are you?" Lydia jumped up and flung the front door open but saw no sign of her sister. A chill breeze cut through her thin gown causing her to shiver. She reached for her flannel shirt and slipped on her shoes. Quickly she walked around the cabin to the privy. The door stood ajar and she peered inside. The only occupant was a tiny lizard clinging to the wall. She searched around the cabin, the woodshed and the barn, scouring the entire area. Beth was gone. Lydia rushed back to the cabin and dressed. This was not like her. Something was very wrong; the same something she'd felt yesterday when Beth begged her to stay. The sun spilled over the eastern horizon, splashing everything with gold but Lydia only noticed the panic that gripped her. "Jesus—" she stopped. Why would He help her? The path split, a narrow thread leading up the hill and into the trees, the other down toward the river. Lydia paused then took the upper path along the rocky ledge. Ahead above the ledge, a cave lay hidden behind a bolder at the base of the cliff. It had been their favorite place as girls and now she felt drawn toward it. As Lydia neared the cave, she felt the cord in her head pull tight again and she wanted to scream. She forced herself forward, finally stopping at the mouth of the cave. Beth was inside, of that she was certain. Lydia bent down, peered into the cold musty darkness, and waited until her eyes adjusted. She sensed someone in the shadows, just out of sight. Slowly the darkness gave way to shapes and she stepped down into the cavern. Her whole body suddenly stiffened and went cold. The cavern was arranged like a child's playhouse. A table and two chairs sat in the middle of the room, a single bed stood in one corner opposite a small crib and dresser. Next to the crib sat Beth in the rocker that had disappeared from the cabin weeks ago. She rocked slowly back and forth gazing at Lydia through half closed lids. You came. I knew you would. Beth gestured to the furniture. Do you like it? Beth rose from the rocker and stood by the crib, eyes dark and piercing. A chill crept up Lydia's back. This wasn't her little sister, her Beth. "I don't understand . . . why?" Lydia took a couple of steps toward Beth and suddenly felt that pain in her head. The cord tightened around her mind, a pulling so strong it weakened her muscles. I can't let you do it, Lydia. You can't go to the sheriff. Not now, not ever. Beth walked slowly toward her, eyes fixed on hers. You see if you go to the sheriff, they will find out that I shot him with the gun and then threw his body down the mineshaft.. "But you didn't kill him, Beth. I shot him. I took the gun from the drawer—" That's what I made you believe.. I gave you the dreams so you would think you killed Father. Lydia's head spun and the cord tightened. You look tired, Lydie. You need a rest. The urge to lie down filled Lydia's mind. She moved toward the bed, unable to resist Beth's firm hold on her mind and lay back on the soft mattress. Beth stood over her and began stroking her forehead. That's a good girl. Lydia looked into Beth's somber eyes and tried to speak but she placed her hand on Lydia's mouth and shook her head. Why did you lie to me, Beth? I knew you would never jeopardize my future by going to jail. I figured if I made you believe you killed father, my secret would be safe. A frown creased her brow. But it didn't work. She walked back to the crib and peered down at it. I need you Lydie, to help me care for the baby. Lydia's mouth went dry. "Baby!" Her voice cracked with effort. She placed a hand on her abdomen. He hurt me, Lydie. I hated him for hurting me but I hated him more for hurting you. That's why I killed him. I never told you. How did you know? I always knew. I lived it with you . . . in your mind. I couldn't help you. Tears pooled in Beth's eyes. But it's all over now. Beth lifted Lydia's head and hugged her close. As Beth rocked her gently back and forth, she played the scene in Lydia's mind. Slowly everything came together. She had come home and saw her father standing there, terror stricken, the gun in Beth's hand aimed at his chest. Lydia had lunged at Beth and tried to snatch the gun from her but Beth took hold of her mind and forced her to step aside. Helplessly, she watched Beth pull the trigger and blow her father across the room in an explosion of blood and guts. Lydia screamed until Beth slapped her face. Later they dragged the body to the old mine and threw it down one of the shafts. Lydia opened her eyes and looked up at Beth. The cord, constant, ever present, wrapped around her mind and she closed her eyes again, limp in Beth's arms. Lydie, we're going to have a wonderful life here. We can hunt and fish and pick berries, just like we used to. And we'll teach the baby to use mind speech too. Just think how much fun it will be. Lydia felt the strength of Beth's mind inside her own. You'll be happy, I promise. I'll take good care of you. Quietly Lydia sang to herself, "Jesus loves me this I know . . ." Another presence flickered inside of her . . . an old familiar presence that glowed small but strong. Maybe Jesus hadn't left after all. Maybe He would help her yet.
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the author. Requests for permission should be addressed in writing to Rita L. Betti via the contact page.
|
||