Hudson 04 The End of the Rainbow Read online

  Was it madness or was it great therapy?

  Sometimes, we have to believe in a little magic. I thought. That's what I told Mommy when she brought it up later.

  "My mother is absolutely bankers," she said. "Maybe."

  "Don't tell me she convinced you that you can bury bad times as easily as that."

  "Wouldn't it be a nice thought. Mommy?" I asked. "A little magic?"

  She stared at me and then shook her head and laughed.

  "Maybe," she admitted. "Maybe that's what I finally found myself when I found your father and later, when we had you. I guess that's magic. Just the same," she said. "please don't tell anyone about your mad grandmother. It's too embarrassing."

  I didn't say I would or I wouldn't. I did eventually tell Harley and when I told him, he didn't laugh at it. Be looked envious and said, "One of these days, I'll ask her to help me bury a few things."

  It wasn't hard to figure out what they would be. so I didn't ask. Most of our conversations were about good things these days or funny things. Harley visited with me as much as possible, doing his best to cheer me up. When he came over, he talked continuously as if he thought any small silences between us would drop me quickly back into the thick pool of sadness. In fact, he was over so often. I heard Uncle Roy outside the house one day begin to reprimand him for it.

  "You're making a pest of yourself when those people need some peace," he told him.

  For a few days after that. Harley did stay away. Then late one night I saw him silhouetted in the moonlight, walking along the bank of the lake. He stood staring at the water. He was there so long, I was sure something was wrong, so I slipped out of my room and down the stairs very quietly to join him.

  "Why are you out here so late?" I asked as I drew closer. I had my arms folded under my breasts and wore my robe and slippers. Harley was still dressed in his jeans and black T-shirt. He glanced up at me and then looked toward his house.

  "I couldn't sleep and finally gave up trying," he said. "What's wrong?"

  He didn't answer for a very long moment.

  "Is Aunt Glenda all right?"

  "No." he said sullenly. "Why?"

  I expected him to say something like the same old thing, but he didn't.

  "You don't remember what today is then?" he asked, still not looking at me.

  "Today?" I thought. "Oh," I finally said when I realized. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

  It was the day Latisha had died, Maybe I didn't want to remember. Every year on the anniversary of her daughter's death. Aunt Glenda dressed in black and draped a funereal atmosphere over herself and anyone who came within a hundred yards of her.

  "I wish I could forget. too." Harley replied sharply through clenched teeth. "Maybe I should rip out this page on the calendar and bury it someplace like you and your grandmother buried your bad memory. I doubt I could do it." he said and looked away as he continued.

  "I was almost eight years old when she died. but I still had trouble understanding what death was. Latisha was often sick. I remember her being in the hospital a lot, but death was still something that happened only to old people. I think for days and days afterward. I kept expecting Roy and my mother would be bringing her home.'"

  He laughed.

  "I guess I thought if young people died, they died for only a little while. For them, death was nothing more than just another illness that they would !et over. The doctor would make her better.

  "My mother spent a good part of every night out there at her grave. I remember her telling Roy she thought Latisha might be frightened, all alone in the dark.

  "He didn't have much patience for that and yelled at her for talking so foolish.

  "Then she turned to her religion because it made her feel better about Latisha's going. She was in heaven with angels, so she wasn't alone and wasn't afraid. According to my mother. Latisha felt sorrier for us having to mourn her passing down here on earth.

  "My mother would sit beside me at the dinner table and tell me all that, almost the way another Mother might read a fairy tale to her child.

  "She broke open her Bible and read to me from it and then told me all about Heaven. Roy couldn't stand it. He would get up and leave, sometimes without finishing his meal. My mother didn't notice or care. I guess. She had begun drifting away from both of us.

  "You know what it's like waking up in the middle of a terrible thunder-and-lightning storm when you're just little and you call for your mother, but she's not there because she's more interested in being out at the gravesite of her dead daughter? I didn't get much comfort from Roy. I can tell you that. He would stick his head in my room and Fowl. 'Stop being a baby. Nothing's going to happen to you. Go to sleep.'

  "I used to wonder if anything ever frightened him. Sometimes. I wanted to be like him because of that, and sometimes I hated him because of it."

  He stopped talking and looked at me as if he had just realized I was standing there listening.

  "Sorry I went off at the mouth like that," he said. "Oh, that's okay. Harley. I wanted to listen."

  "Here I am telling you my troubles. What a selfish SOB I am. huh?"

  "No. Besides. I don't want to dote on my unfortunate experience," I said.

  "Unfortunate? It was far from something haphazard or destined. That creep. I wish I knew his name. I wish I knew where he was. I'd wipe that smug smile off his fact."

  He stood so stiffly, his arms at his sides, his hands clenched.

  "I know you would." I said, touching his shoulder. "That's why I'm not telling you anything. You would just get into trouble, and how do you think I'd feel then?"

  He was silent.

  "I'd feel absolutely horrible, Harley."

  He nodded, his body relaxing.

  "Can I tell you something very private?" he asked.

  "Of course. We've always trusted each other, haven't we?"

  "Yeah, yeah." he said, just hating any reference I made to our being like brother and sister, if not close cousins. "I don't mean that keep-a-secret kid stuff."

  "What do you mean. Harley?"

  "I mean what I felt and thought when you told me what had happened to you. I know I should have been most upset about what he had done, but what bothered me the most is hearing you went for a walk with another boy at night. You thought you might have a nice summer romance, didn't you?" he asked in a very accusatory tone of voice.

  "Harley Arnold," I said growing indignant. "I don't see how that's your business."

  "Of course it is," he said. "I was hoping you and I would have had the summer romance, a summer romance that would have gone on into the fall and long after that," he blurted. "Sorry," he quickly added before I could speak. "Sorry I bothered you. Sorry I bother everybody," he muttered and started quickly away.

  "Harley!" I called after him, but he kept walking. I felt the frustration raging inside me and stomped my foot. fuming.

  And they say girls are hard to understand. I thought.

  I went back into the house and up to my room where I stood by the window and looked for him in the darkness below. I didn't see him anywhere. and I was too tired to keep looking.

  He didn't come by the next day, but the afternoon after that. Harley joined Mommy and me on the rear patio and just sat watching us do needlepoint. He said "Hi." and Mommy said "Hi" and smiled at him. but I just gave him a look and kept working. He and Mommy started to talk about the weather and then his work. He glanced at me occasionally. but I concentrated on my needlepoint. Finally, he said, he had heard from one of the colleges to which he had made a late application.

  I looked up expectantly, but he didn't add anything.

  "Well, Harley Arnold," I finally said. 'don't just sit there keeping us guessing. What did they say?"

  "They said I could come around and learn some stuff, if I wanted."

  "What?"

  "That's wonderful, Harley," Mommy said.

  "Learn some stuff? What kind of an admission to college is that?"

  He
shrugged.

  "Let's not make a big deal of it," he said. "It's just one of those community colleges "

  "It's still an opportunity, Harley," Mommy said. "Don't waste it."

  He nodded and lowered his eyes for a moment like a subdued puppy. Then he looked up at me sharply and smiled. I couldn't help but laugh.

  A moment later Uncle Roy came around the corner of the house and stopped, very surprised to see Harley sitting there.

  "What are you doin' here now?" he demanded without saying hello to anyone.

  Harley fidgeted in his chair.

  "Nothing," he said.

  "Nothing? You ain't supposed to be off the project this early."

  "Jerry said he was finished with the Sheetrock for the day," Harley replied.

  "So? What about Bob Matthews? I told you I wanted you with him as much as possible so you could learn more about electrical work. I spent all that time talking him into letting you be his apprentice. You'd get a lot more done than just sitting here watchin' a couple of women do needlepoint. What are you goin' to be, a seamstress?'

  Harley turned two shades of red, one darker than the other. "He's not bothering us," Mommy said.

  "That's a relief, but he's not on the job he's supposed to be on either."

  Uncle Roy looked at me and then at Harley. "You'll get docked a day for this." he told him.

  "Big deal," Harley snapped. "It's coolie wages anyway." he spat out, and got up to walk away.

  "Those coolie wages pay your expenses. boy," Uncle Roy shouted after him.

  Harley didn't look back. but I saw how his neck lifted as if he had been slapped on the back of his head.

  "Mama always used to tell us you can get more with honey than with vinegar. Roy," Mommy said.

  Uncle Roy grunted,

  "She also said you give him an inch, he'll take a foot.' "She was talking about your father."

  "Hmm," Uncle Roy said. He watched Harley a moment longer and then he turned back to us. "Anything you need. Rain?"

  'No. we're fine. Roy. Thanks. How's Glenda? I haven't seen her out for a few days."

  "It's that time of year," he replied.

  Mommy put her needlework down and thought a moment. "Oh. I forgot." she said.

  "Yeah. Latisha died ten years ago day before yesterday,"

  "I should have remembered," Mommy said.

  "Not with all you've had on your mind, Rain."

  "Still, we should have remembered,," Mommy insisted, "I'll be over to see her later."

  "She'll just be sitting in the house, rocking and humming her hymns. She won't even know you're there most of the time," Uncle Roy said.

  We heard Harley start up his motorcycle and then head down the driveway.

  "Where's he going?" Roy asked rhetorically. "Just like him to pick this time to be his usual troublemaker self"

  "Maybe he's thinking about Latisha too. Roy."

  "I doubt it."

  "He is," I blurted. They both looked at me. "He was talking about her the night before last."

  "Night before last? I don't remember that," Mommy said.

  "You and Daddy were already asleep. I saw him wandering outside and went out to speak with him. He said he couldn't sleep because of the memories. Uncle Roy."

  "Hmm," Uncle Roy said, his eyes dark with thought. "Just the same, he should be thinking more about his mother and not get himself into any trouble. I'll see you all later," he added. He waited for Mommy to smile and nod and then he walked away.

  "Do you think things will ever be good between Harley and Uncle Roy, Mommy?" I asked.

  "I don't know, dear. Uncle Roy has had a hard life, full of disappointments. He grew up in a very dangerous world and had two young girls to protect. In his mind he lost them both, and then he lost his daughter."

  "Maybe if he and Harley had some mature conversations and Uncle Roy trusted him more with all that, they would get along better."

  "Maybe. Summer, but that's between them. For now, we've got a full plate in this house," she said smiling. "I saw you received a letter from Grandpa Larry."

  "Yes, he wants me to come visit again. He offered to buy the ticket."

  "You haven't written to him and told him anything about..."

  "No. Should I?"

  "I don't want you to have to think about it. but I suppose he'll be disappointed that you didn't tell him. Being family means being part of the bad as well as the good."

  "Okay," I said. "Ill write him tonight."

  "Maybe you should go to England for the rest of the summer," Mommy thought aloud.

  "I don't know, Mommy."

  "Well, you don't do anything that makes you nervous, honey. When you're ready, you'll go," she said.

  She returned to her needlepoint. I thought a moment and then I returned to mine.

  We didn't speak for a long time, but we didn't need to say anything aloud. There was something between us, something we said with every movement, every breath, every glance and smile. How lucky I was to have her. I thought.

  And then I thought about Harley, who was so alone. All his silences were deep and dark even when he sat in the same room with his mother and Uncle Roy.

  In fact, all three of them were alone.

  Two days later we had one of the worst heat spells ever. The humidity reached close to ninetyeight percent and the temperatures went over a hundred. Nights did little to cool it down. There was such a drain on the electricity in the area that some places were experiencing brownouts. Even the animals were depressed. All the birds lingered on branches in the shade. I felt sorry for Harley and Uncle Roy out on their job. There were stories about roadworkers and other outdoor employees actually fainting from dehydration. Except for sitting in the house under a fan or in front of the cool air vents, the only relief was in the lake, which Daddy said was the warmest he had ever felt it.

  As soon as he returned home from work. Harley was in the water. One afternoon, he didn't wait to change. He drove his motorcycle down to the dock and dove in, clothes and all. Mommy and I thought it was very funny, especially when he stepped out and emptied his shoes. but Uncle Roy thought he was just being stupid.

  We did more night swimming than ever. I would come out about eight and usually find Harley was already at the raft or just floating near the dock. Except for the small light at the dock, we would have only the moonlight or starlight. On overcast, heavy nights. Mommy didn't want me to go too far out.

  "Just wade and get yourself cooled down. honey."

  It was too warm for her to stay outside and watch us. so Daddy would come out occasionally and check or take a dip himself. Uncle Roy rarely ever went swimming. If he did, he just dove in on the other end of the lake, closer to his house. When Harley was younger, Uncle Roy kept him on that side as much as he could, claiming he didn't want Harley to bother us. but Mommy made it crystal clear that he was never to make Harley feel like he didn't belong. Now, of course. Harley could swim the entire width of the lake, so it didn't matter much where he dove in.

  That weekend my aunt Alison paid us a surprise visit. Often Grandmother Megan didn't know where she was or where she was going, so she never called Mommy to tell her. I had a piano lesson that Friday afternoon. The music made me melancholy because it and my lesson reminded me that I was missing so much by not being in the music school. It all seemed so unfair. I was positive Duncan wasn't experiencing any melancholy. He never wanted to be at the school in the first place. I had simply been a means to an end. He was probably laughing about it somewhere, telling new friends about this dumb girl who tried to get him into trouble.

  Thinking about it actually made me angry enough to want to tell Harley everything. especially Duncan's name and address, and thus send Harley after him like a hounddog to hunt him down and punish him or, at least, to wipe that smug, confident smile off his face.

  The heat from my thoughts only exacerbated the discomfort I felt because of the hot spell. After my lessons. I ate a light dinner and then put on my bathi
ng suit and marched down to the lake. At first, I thought Harley wasn't there. It was darker than usual, being there was no moon in the sky, but as my eyes grew accustomed to the night. I saw him lying on his back on the raft, slightly illuminated by the stars.

  Coming across the lake from his house was some soft, religious music, hymn music without the words. Tonight it seemed appropriate. I knew Mommy would rather I not swim out to the raft on a night like this. so I called to Harley, but he was either asleep or simply didn't hear me. I couldn't imagine he would ignore me. I was frustrated enough to decide I would swim out to him. However, just as I started to go into the water, a pair of headlights washed away the darkness and threw a beam of light over the water as far as the raft.

  Harley sat up, shading his eyes with his hand and looking toward the dock.

  I waved and he waved back. Then I turned to see who it was and heard Aunt Alison's laugh. There was the slam of car doors, more laughter, followed by her calling my name.

  I answered and waited as she came down to the dock, followed by a tall, lean man with hair so light blond that it looked nearly white. Aunt Alison dangled a cigarette from the corner of her mouth. She wore very short dark blue shorts and a blue halter.

  "How's my favorite niece?" she cried.

  "I'm okay. Aunt Alison. I didn't know you were coming."

  "Neither did I. but we were only fifty miles away and I told Harper all about my family and this wonderful estate. didn't I. Harper?"

  He laughed and drew a cigarette out of the pack in the top pocket of his short-sleeve shirt. His jeans were tight-legged, and he had a very narrow waist.

  "Harper is a swimmer," she said. He swam for the University of Virginia, didn't you. Harper?"

  "Tried out." he said.

  "It's the same thing." she quickly decided. She looked around. "So where is everyone? On a night like this. I half-expected my brother-in-law would be dipping my sister in the lake."