Chapter 28
She said my name again, with less of a hiccup and clearer. My smile stretched wide as my elation at hearing her voice for the very first time overwhelmed and mesmerized me. She clung to my hand while I searched for what was different in her expression, because something was. Like I’d seen before, there was a deepening of understanding, an awareness what didn’t fade away this time. I had the impression there was yet even more, like something had broke loose inside her, bubbling up for us to see, and that it would continue to do so.
I said, “How did you get here? Did you come alone?”
Laci turned to go to the cabin, leading me instead of the other way around. She held my hand so tight, my fingers was numb by the time we reached it. Momma and Papa stood outside with Sheriff Baker, and Clayton too, looking nervous while Papa glared at him. Strangely for me, seeing Clayton held about as much excitement as watching Papa whittle on a stick for hours. The way I’d felt before had run its course, the way some fevers consume you one minute and are gone the next. I was glad. I felt released, relieved, lighter, and my heart didn’t ache at the sight of him. Laci let go a my hand and hurried to Momma, who softly placed a palm alongside her cheek, shaking her head like she couldn’t quite believe she was actually here.
“Lord, child, I never thought I’d set eyes on you again.”
Papa stood on the other side, his own hand running down her arm, like they both needed to touch her, to assure themselves of her presence.
Sheriff Baker said, “There’s a bit of a story about all this, whenever you’re ready.”
Momma waved a hand towards the cabin, “Come in, please. We don’t have much in the way of furniture yet, but we got some coffee.”
We filed in, and stood by the fireplace. It was cooler inside, and the sheriff ’s boots made a solid sound against the strong wood floor.
He looked around, and said, “Looks like you’ve made good progress getting things situated.” He paused and pointed at Clayton. “Far as your girl here, you got this young man to thank, believe it or not. Son, you want to tell them what happened?”
Clayton looked like all his blood had drained out of him, his features had gone pale, even his lips. He swallowed, and glanced at Papa, who stood with his legs firmly planted, arms folded over his chest, putting off the air of a man who would need a lot of convincing.
Clayton said, “Yes, sir.” And he turned to Papa, and spoke directly to him, glancing occasionally at Momma as if she might offer him a bit more support, or at least be less intimidating. Her expression was not unlike Papa’s. Suspicious and doubtful. He looked away, and shifted uncomfortably as he began.
“First, I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have done . . . certain things. I hope you’ll hear me out, let me explain because I know all this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been with Laci to begin with. Sure, you can blame me because she run off, but I didn’t have nothing to do with what happened after. When you come looking for me with that shotgun, I got scared, I admit it. That’s why I hid, and Laci was with me. All I could think was stay out of sight, let things cool down. We went into the Giant Snake tent, but she must have got scared because of the way I’d acted. Me running, pulling her along like I was. In her mind, I won’t acting right and she didn’t know why. I let go of her hand only a second, and she took off. I lost sight of her quick, so I went to Johnny Cooper and told him what happened and he told me to stay out of sight, and he would help with the search. Of course, later, when everyone got to looking for her, I wanted to help, only I couldn’t.”
Clayton glanced at Papa, and said, “He didn’t tell me what he intended to do. I swear it.”
Papa’s tone was sharp. “What he intended to do?”
Sheriff Baker interrupted Clayton. “I found out where the show had gone as far as other states. Turns out this particular outfit has been accused of keeping someone against their will before. A woman . . . without legs from Virginia. He knew because of your Laci being mute, she couldn’t give anything away.”
Papa said to Clayton, “You want to work for people like that?”
“I didn’t know! I don’t work for them anymore. No, sir. I quit.”
Skeptical, Papa said, “And so, how does this make you not mixed up in this somehow?”
Sheriff Baker spoke up for Clayton. “Well for one, I’ve never known someone guilty to come to the law for help. Usually they run the other way. Go on, son, finish your story.”
Clayton nodded. “The show always goes to Florida in the winter, but it was strange to leave in the middle of the night. That told me something was fishy, plus the fact I kept coming up on the notion Laci would go home if she could. And when the search went on and on, and she didn’t turn up, that seemed strange. Then, after we’d been on the road for a week or so, I noticed one of the workers taking food into a particular wagon they store the tents in. He’d come out without the plate. I went over to the wagon and listened. I heard something, a scuffling sort of noise. I kept watch until I figured out where he was putting the key. I got in one night and she was in there, hidden behind a stack of old tents, locked away. Like a dog. I was as mad as I’ve ever been because”—and now he looked at me, like he wanted me to understand what he was about to say—“I love her.”
I showed no emotion because I didn’t feel much of anything other than wanting him to get on with his account so we could understand what Laci had been through.
He turned back to Papa. “I got her out of there, only now we’d traveled hundreds of miles. I didn’t know how to explain it when it come to telling Sheriff Baker here, without sounding like I had something to do with it. That’s where Laci comes in.”
Papa leaned in towards Clayton. “What do you mean, that’s where Laci comes in?”
“I talked to Laci the entire way, told her I was bringing her home. It took us a long time. I had no idea if anyone was even looking for us, but I hitched rides for us as often as I could get one. I bought us food often as I could. When we got to South Carolina, I went straight to Sheriff Baker. I told him everything. He didn’t believe me neither. He was getting ready to throw me in jail, only Laci said, ‘No.’ ”
Momma laughed outright at that, and Papa snorted. “Huh. This is where your story gets off course. That ain’t possible. Boy, you best not be lying about such.”
I interrupted. “Papa, Laci said my name, down by the river a little while ago.”
Momma put her hands on the table, and leaned over, like she needed help to remain on her feet.
She raised her head. “I can’t hardly imagine it. Is it possible?”
Clayton said, “Yes, ma’am. It is.”
Papa rubbed his beard and glanced at Momma, who shook her head, still unable to believe.
Clayton said, “There’s one more thing I want to mention, if I could?”
Papa nodded.
“I’d like to marry Laci.”
Papa’s mouth dropped open and Momma shook her head, more in disbelief than saying no. I didn’t know if she was sad, or happy at Clayton’s request. I was still trying to grasp Laci having spoken.
Papa said, “Son, that’s all fine and good, but . . .”
All of the sudden he stopped and turned to Laci, gazing into her eyes. Laci returned his stare, her features calm and steady. She sure didn’t look like she’d suffered. She looked almost happy.
He asked her, “Laci, is this what you want?”
After all we’d heard, everyone was spellbound, waiting to see what she’d do.With a small smile and barely a nod she gave her answer, yet both gestures in our eyes was as big as all the mountains and valleys around us. As big a miracle as we was likely to ever see in our lifetime. Papa nodded, satisfied, but he needed more assurances and he got down to brass tacks, facing Clayton again.
“How do you intend to support her? How are you planning to make money since you’re no longer employed?”
Clayton tilted his head towards Sheriff Baker. “I’m considering becoming a deputy for Jackson County, if the sheriff here will put in a good word for me.”
Papa turned to Momma like he had no idea where to go from there.
Momma said, “Well. I think we need to see how things work out. Won’t be a wedding for some time.”
Clayton said, “That’s good enough to me. I ain’t going nowhere.”
After that, the sheriff had to go, but Clayton stayed. Momma set about fixing him a bed of sorts so he could sleep in the kitchen. Considering this new, altered relationship, I was grateful I no longer thought of him the same way. It had been a day filled with wonderment at what took place, and later on, as we lay in our cots, Laci beside me like in the old days, it occurred to me she’d changed more than the rest of us from all that happened. I seen how she’d picked up her fiddle, set in the corner of the room, and played a bit of a song here and there, but it didn’t appear to have quite the same allure as before. It was as if her attention had expanded and now included a bigger view of her world, an opening of her mind, a clarity what enabled her to reach beyond the confines of the instrument. Like the windows Joe talked about when he’d tried to encourage me to see things in a different way, this had happened for her.
* * *
The next day, the startled look on Joe’s face seeing Laci sitting in the kitchen captured my own feelings all over again. Each time I went out and come in and seen her by the fire with Momma struck me anew. Joe stayed aloof around Clayton, sizing him up at a distance, while Lyle was intrigued by what Clayton used to do. Lyle followed him around peppering him with questions about jumping from waterfalls, and the high dive platform. Joe and Papa was set to begin work on a new corn crib, and Clayton was put to work fashioning a new clothesline for Momma to hang the wash. Laci sat in the sun watching Josie, while I went to help the men. When I stopped to look around for a second, I was almost dizzy with gratitude at all we’d been given.
After I’d worked for an hour or so stripping bark with the draw blade, Joe come to where I sat on the ground.
He watched me for a minute, then said, “I was thinking maybe later on, when we get done, you might want to go down to the creek and do some fishing? I brought a couple bamboo poles. Lyle’s about to have a fit to fish there.”
I glanced at Joe a little longer than usual, and didn’t give him an immediate answer. His face flushed red.
He said, “If you want. I mean, maybe you’ll be too tired by then. I just thought . . .”
I stopped him when I said, “No. I’d like to. I’d like to very much.”
One thing was becoming very clear to me and that was how alike we was, and I wondered how, after all this time, it took me so long to notice. When the day was over, all of us gathered inside the cabin, around the table Joe had somehow managed to build on the sly. I looked around at the faces, happy, and a little melancholy remembering the little one missing.
Papa said, “Let’s bless this food,” and I gratefully bowed my head, believing with all my heart we’d been put through hardships for a reason, and come away from them stronger than ever.
After we ate, as promised, Joe grabbed the poles, and with Lyle and Josie following close behind, we made our way to Stampers Creek. We sat on the embankment and I laughed at Lyle, who was coming out of his shell around me while little Josie pressed against my side. Every now and then her tiny hand would sneak into mine, a miniature version of Laci’s. It was when Joe took hold of my other hand on the way back up to the cabin in the twilight of the evening, I experienced another moment of lucidity, and I thought of that time in the truck, in the middle of the flood when Papa had held Momma’s face, and stared at her with such love.
Joe’s hand in mine felt perfect, and the vision I held in my mind was as transparent as a pane of glass wiped clean as I pictured all I could have. I understood what was set before me, this bright future, mine and Joe’s, if I wanted it. I gazed about in wonder as if seeing everything anew, and when my eyes eventually rested on him again, all the hard times fell away, like the sun clearing a morning mist. We walked along, hands held tight, taking our time as the familiar and peaceful trickle of water slid over the nearby rocks of Stampers Creek and the call of a distant nightingale serenaded us home.