Clothed in Thunder Read online

“Like something the cat dragged in that the kittens wouldn’t have?”

  I remembered her saying that before. At a terrible time in my life. I shrugged. “Reckon I do.”

  “I reckon you have a right to. But you really don’t look bad. Your eyes are a little red is all.”

  Zeke looked at me. “What’s wrong, Jay?”

  “Nothing to worry about.” I held my hand out to Zeke. “I need to talk to you, though.”

  He placed his hand in mine, and we walked out of the warmth of the barn.

  I led him to the front porch. We both sat down on the edge with our legs dangling over the side.

  It was a moment before I spoke, remembering the night he had caught the lightning bugs ... that night ... Poppa had ...

  I pushed the thought firmly out of my mind. Poppa was gone, and there was no need dwelling on it. We had to get on with our lives.

  I draped my arm over his shoulders. “Zeke, I need to tell you something.”

  He beat his heels against the side of the porch. “What?”

  “Momma’s not my momma.”

  He frowned. “Momma’s not your momma?”

  “No, we have different mothers.”

  “You’re not my sister?” Worry clouded his eyes.

  “Yes, I’m your sister! We have the same father just different mothers.” I squeezed him to me, and he laid his head against me for a few seconds before pulling away.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re my sister. Can I go back to the barn now?”

  I smiled to myself. “It’s about time for breakfast. Go see if you can round everyone up.”

  He jumped down and scurried off.

  Well, that was easier than I thought. I climbed to my feet and went back in. At least I still had Zeke, my little brother.

  A stab of fear pierced my heart. I pushed away the thought that I might lose him, too. No need borrowing trouble from tomorrow, Poppa had always said.

  After breakfast, we got ready to go see Momma. Aunt Liza and Uncle Howard with William and Laurie thought it best that they stay home. We still didn’t want Momma to know where Zeke and I had been living.

  Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt had visited Momma several times in the couple of months we had been gone, and on the way, Aunt Jenny cautioned us that Momma still struggled with depression. Zeke didn’t know what that meant, and I explained that she was very sad. I knew the feeling.

  I pretended, for Zeke’s sake, to be happy. He clung to me when we arrived at the sanatorium. His grip tightened when we entered the common room. Several patients visited with their families. Momma sat at a small table next to the window, staring out.

  She remained stiff and still as we approached. She didn’t turn her vacant eyes on us until Aunt Jenny touched her shoulder.

  “How are you, Molly?” Aunt Jenny asked.

  Momma tried to smile. “I’m doing better.”

  “Hi, Momma,” I said, kissing her forehead. Zeke hung back, but I pulled him forward. “Here’s Zeke.”

  She held out her arms to him, and a lump came to my throat. Zeke climbed into her lap, and the rest of us gathered around the table. Momma took a long look at me.

  “What’s wrong with you, Sarah Jane? You been sick?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m doing fine.”

  “We’re so proud of her,” Uncle Colt said. “She made five A’s and a B+ on her report card.”

  Momma ignored Uncle Colt. Aunt Jenny shared a look with him before she turned back to Momma.

  “Is there anything we can get you, Molly?”

  “You can get me out of this place. Ain’t nothing wrong with me.” She stared in Aunt Jenny’s eyes defiantly.

  “Now, Molly, you know the doctor will release you as soon as you’re better.”

  Momma laughed. “He just wants to keep me here for the money you’re a paying him.” Then she looked contrite. “Sorry. Just ready to get home.”

  Uncle Colt rubbed his chin. “That’s why you need to cooperate. You can get out a lot faster if you’ll do what the doctor tells you.”

  Momma caught my eyes again. “I need to tell you what happened.” Her eyes glazed over, and she began to speak. “One night, after we’d gone to sleep, the house caught on fire.”

  I started to interrupt, wondering why she was telling the story again, but Aunt Jenny put her finger to her lips.

  “I heard someone yelling.” Momma’s voice cracked, and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I got up but didn’t know where I was. The smoke had confused me. Someone grabbed me and pulled me through the window.” She looked at me. “It was your father. He went in for my husband but came back without him.” Her face contorted. “It was two o’clock in the morning. Your father was drunk. He always blamed his drunkenness for not being able to save my husband.” She rubbed her temples.

  “Poppa was drunk?” Zeke said.

  “Drunk as a skunk,” Momma said.

  Aunt Jenny cleared her throat. “Remember, Molly, he had just lost his wife. He was grieving and wasn’t himself.”

  Did all men drink? Because they just couldn’t face reality? But Poppa had quit, hadn’t he? He never drank. But what if he had and I just didn’t know? Could he have hidden it from me, just as Michael had? I shook my head, trying to understand, to remember Poppa. No, I was sure he didn’t drink.

  Momma continued with her story. “I was in the hospital for a while. He came to visit me every single day. Brought me flowers.”

  Momma’s eyes were on me as if waiting for me to speak.

  I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me that you weren’t my real mother,” I finally said.

  “I didn’t see any reason. I decided to treat you like my own daughter. I did what I could. Not that you ever cared.”

  My fault for failing her? Her time here had not changed her at all. Instead of anger, though, her words only increased my sadness.

  Uncle Colt tried to change the subject. “Did you ever want to move back to Birmingham?”

  “Wanting to get rid of me?” She cocked one eyebrow at him.

  “Of course not,” Uncle Colt said, shaking his head slowly. “Molly, you know we’ll do all we can to help you.”

  Momma clamped her lips together as if she didn’t believe him.

  “We need to get going.” Aunt Jenny stood and gave Momma a hug. Momma continued sitting, her back stiff.

  Uncle Colt simply patted her shoulder.

  Momma kissed both Zeke’s cheeks before letting him down. I started to lean over to kiss her, but she put a hand up to stop me.

  Chapter 17—Clothed In Thunder

  Momma’s eyes clouded with pain. “No need pretending you care about me. Now that you know I’m not your real mother.” She narrowed her eyes as if daring me to deny it.

  “Momma,” I said, keeping my voice as soft as I could. “You took care of me when I was little. I appreciate everything you did for me.” I gave her a peck on the forehead and held out my hand to Zeke.

  She nodded. “Zeke looks well. Thank you for taking care of him while I can’t.” She turned her head away.

  Had she hidden her face so we wouldn’t see her tears? What I said had been true. Maybe she did care for me in a way I couldn’t understand. Maybe she had done her best.

  Zeke and I followed our aunt and uncle outside. As we emerged into the sunlight, Zeke tilted his head up at me, his eyes hopeful. “She was better, wasn’t she, Jay?”

  “I hope so Zeke.” I tousled his hair as we walked away from the mental hospital. He missed her. But that was only natural. She had always been nicer to him than she had been to me. At least up until Poppa died.

  “Can we come back again, Jay?”

  “Next time we visit. Maybe she’ll be back home by then.”

  His face lit up. “I hope so.”

  My heart constricted. What if she did get out? Would Zeke choose her over me? My shoulders drooped. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost him, too.

  B
ut maybe that day would never come.

  We stayed one more night before heading back to Plainsville. We stopped at the same gas station Michael had stopped at when we had first traveled to my aunt and uncle’s. I refused the offer of a Coke, not wanting anything to remind me of Michael.

  I was glad to be home, and I snuggled into the feather bed with three quilts on top of me. But I didn’t sleep. I thought of Michael and how things had gone wrong so quickly. It seemed everything in life I loved, I lost.

  Anger coursed through me. Why was God doing this to me?

  Didn’t I deserve some happiness?

  I tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning.

  After my fitful night’s sleep, I slipped out of the house before anyone else was up. Bundled against the chilly morning air, I slapped a saddle on Red to go for a quick ride.

  Red was frisky from not being ridden for a couple of days. He broke into a gallop, and I lowered my head beside his neck and urged him on with my knees. He responded with a burst of fresh energy, his mane streaming past my face.

  Hast thou clothed his neck in thunder? God had asked Job.

  Wasn’t God in control even when it didn’t seem like it? Who was I to question God? I slowed Red down to a walk, enjoying the crisp morning air. A stream ran along the edge of Uncle Howard’s land, and I dismounted at its edge.

  The cold wind stung my cheeks, but I ignored the cold and walked closer to the stream.

  Momma had said Poppa was drunk when he had entered the burning house. It was hard to believe that Daniel, Michael, and Poppa all drank. Well, I could picture Daniel drinking. But Michael and Poppa? I shook my head.

  And, Michael had said, or implied, someone else in my family drank. Who had he meant?

  My head ached, and I rubbed my temples. If Michael had been talking about Poppa ... Anger surged through me. How dare he talk about my Poppa! People weren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, were they?

  My head throbbed. Michael had said I was naïve. Maybe I was naïve about him! He was nothing but trouble.

  I caught the reins and climbed back on Red. I turned him back toward the stables, and we returned at a walk.

  The wind cooled my cheeks, and I felt calmer by the time we reached the barn.

  I got the curry comb and gave Red a good brushing before turning my attention to Whitey. He nudged my shoulder with his nose. I rubbed his muzzle, letting the simple act calm me.

  Maybe Daniel had not been thinking of me when he bought them. But if he had, it had been a kind gesture.

  I whistled for Chance, and we tussled, and the other dogs joined in. When I tired, I sat cross legged on the ground, and Chance flopped across my lap. I spoke aloud to him.

  “Why didn’t Michael bring you to me?” He perked his ears toward me.

  Why wasn’t Michael the one sober instead of Daniel?

  But Chance didn’t have the answers. He simply raised his head, striving to understand what I needed. Did I know what I needed myself? Chance gave me what he had, his unconditional love and faithfulness. We sat there as long as the cold would let me before I went in to warm up and eat breakfast.

  And so life went on. I had schoolwork, the horses to care for, Chance, and my friends and family. I tried to put Michael out of my mind, but some nights I still cried myself to sleep.

  I heard from Daniel — every week. I rarely answered, but the letters kept coming. The letters were friendly, news of his everyday life in the army.

  Marla told me she had heard through the grapevine that Michael had moved to Auburn to attend college, just as Laurie had already told me at Christmas. The town of Auburn was just a few miles away, and I couldn’t help but think about Michael being so much closer.

  I threw myself into my studies, determined to forget him. The days, weeks, and months passed.

  By the time school let out for the summer, I was at the top of my class.

  I won several of the class awards, but it was a hollow victory, even when Mr. Albertson presented me with the math award.

  Still, it was a victory and held at least a measure of pleasure.

  Chapter 18—The Bus Trip

  Summer arrived with the days, at first, seeming to stretch endlessly before me. Yet, it came with a change that was to disrupt our lives once again.

  Its first indication was Aunt Jenny’s letter.

  Aunt Jenny wrote to let us know Momma was finally being released. Uncle Colt had gotten her an apartment in town, and she wanted to see Zeke and me.

  Uncle Howard and Aunt Liza couldn’t get away. Uncle Howard’s business had started to pick up, and he needed Aunt Liza’s help. They decided we would travel by bus.

  It was only June tenth when Zeke and I began our journey to our old home. Even this early in the summer, the temperature climbed to the nineties. At eight o’clock in the morning, it was already sweltering in the packed bus.

  I held Zeke on my lap next to the window. A husband and wife, each looking to weigh over two hundred pounds, took up most of the seat, leaving us little room.

  Zeke relaxed against me and soon slept, lulled by the swaying of the bus. I watched the landscape zip by. What if Momma asked Zeke and me to move in with her? Or if she just asked Zeke? What would I do?

  I had settled in my new school now and had made friends — Marla and Anne and Andrew. And Uncle Howard and Aunt Liza were so kind to us. My world would have been perfect if not for losing Michael.

  Would I be happy leaving Plainsville?

  I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. I grew sticky, wedged against the window with the direct rays of the sun shining through. The hot sun amplified the smell of sweaty bodies. The wind streamed through the opened window, blowing my hair around my face but doing little to cool me off.

  Smells of stale tobacco, a baby’s dirty diaper, and sweaty bodies swirled around me, making me feel nauseated. The baby screamed, only two seats ahead.

  I thought of Cedar Spring. It was always cool there next to the spring flowing over the rocks, underneath the trees that offered abundant shade.

  The time Michael and I had sat on the rock, and we had seen the twin fawns was one of my happiest memories. He had kissed me that day. Tears seeped from the corners of my eyes.

  I shook my head at myself, willing myself not to think of Michael. Why couldn’t I forget him?

  Like one of the annoying flies that shared our bus trip, memories of Michael kept returning to me, no matter how much I swatted. I opened my eyes and shifted Zeke to a more comfortable position.

  Almost six, he was really too big to be sitting in my lap. He’d start school in the fall. At the thought, my tears flowed faster.

  Life changed.

  I brushed away my tears. But it wasn’t as easy to brush away the uneasiness I felt.

  By the time we pulled to the bus stop, my legs had become numb. We were in the middle of the bus and had to wait for everyone to gather their things and shuffle slowly down the aisle.

  Uncle Colt waited for us and gave us both a hug. He retrieved our one suitcase before going with Zeke in search of a restroom. As I waited for them near Uncle Colt’s wagon, a hand touched me on the shoulder. When I turned, warm brown eyes came into view.

  Michael.

  He jerked his thumb toward the bus. “I came down on the bus. I’m out of school for the summer.”

  He’d been on the same bus with me, and I hadn’t seen him.

  I nodded my head and tried to smile. “Where’s your truck?”

  “It quit on me. I’ve been working on it but haven’t been able to fix it. I left it in Auburn.”

  Probably for the best if he was still drinking, and no doubt he was by the way he looked. “How’s school going?” I tried to keep my voice light and friendly, but my heart pounded in my ears, and my hands shook.

  “Good. I really like it.” His cheeks reddened. “You know Sylvia ...”

  My heart leaped in my throat, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. “Yes?�
� I managed to croak out.

  “We’ve been dating for a couple of months now.”

  “Great,” I forced myself to say. Why was he torturing me?

  “Are you still planning on being a veterinarian?”

  I returned his gaze. Did he think I would just give up on my dreams? That I’d crawl into a hole and die? I threw back my shoulders. “Yes, I am.”

  He looked relieved. “Well. . .I guess I’ll be seeing you around?” His eyes searched mine.

  Not if I saw him first. I managed a smile. “Swell.”

  His eyes saddened. “Listen, Jay, I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know. About Sylvia.”

  I didn’t say anything, only nodded.

  “I’ve got to get going.” And with that he left.

  Uncle Colt and Zeke returned before I moved from the spot. Uncle Colt placed a hand on the side of the wagon. “That looked like Michael Hutchison.”

  “It was.” I climbed onto the wagon seat, my motions mechanical.

  Zeke clambered into the back. He chattered to Uncle Colt as we rode toward the farm. Uncle Colt looked over Zeke’s head to study me occasionally, but he didn’t speak directly to me until we pulled into the yard.

  “Molly’s here, waiting for y’all. She’s going to spend the night, and I’ll take her home in the morning.”

  That was all he said, but I had a feeling there was more by the way he avoided my eyes. I swiped at Zeke’s face and hands with my handkerchief before we climbed off the wagon.

  Aunt Jenny, Momma, Laurie, and William all came out to meet us. Zeke ran to Momma, and she knelt to wrap him in an embrace. I hugged everyone and placed a kiss on Momma’s cheek. Momma and Zeke led the way into the house.

  Aunt Jenny, her arm around my waist, stopped me.

  “Anything wrong, Jay?” Her eyes searched me anxiously.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing.”

  “I know something’s wrong. You’re not yourself.”

  Aunt Jenny knew me too well. “Michael has a girlfriend.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  I shook my head and tried to smile. “It’s okay. I should be over him. And, maybe now I finally am.”