Casteel 1 - Heaven (29 page)

And because of this shopping trip that loomed up bright and promising, all the early hours of Saturday I rushed about to finish the housework. Cal had half the day off and would be home by noon, expecting to eat lunch. What did city folks eat for lunch when they ate home? So far I'd eaten lunch only in school. Poor Miss Deale had tried so many times to

share the contents of her lunch bag with an entire class of underfed children. I had never eaten a sandwich before she forced one upon me. The ham, lettuce, and tomato was my favorite, though Tom and Keith had liked peanut butter and jelly well enough and, more than any other kind, tuna fish.

Almost I could hear Tom saying: “That's why she brings six, you know. How could a petite lady like Miss Deale eat six sandwiches? So we really do help her out, don't we, when we eat up?”

I sighed, sad to think I'd left without saying thank you to Miss Deale, and sighed again when I thought of Logan, who had not yet answered my first letter.

Thoughts of yesterdays slowed me down, so I had to rush about to check over downstairs, the living and dining roomiagain, before I finished upstairs. I kept hoping to find shelves of books, or books put away in cabinets, but I didn't find even one book. There wasn't even a Bible. There were plenty of magazines, confession stories that Kitty hid in table drawers, and pretty house magazines she put on top of the coffee table in a neat stack. But not one book.

In the small room Kitty had converted into a home ceramic hobby room, the one that was going to

be mine, shelves lined the wall, and on those shelves were tiny animals and miniature people, all small enough to fit inside her little kiln. There were also cabinets lining one entire wall, all locked. I stared at those locked doors, wondering what secrets they held.

Downstairs again, I carefully stacked the dirty dishes in the washer, filled the compartments with detergent, then stood back and fearfully waited for the thing to blow up, or discharge the dishes like bullets. But the darn thing still worked after almost a week of hill-​scum handling. I felt strangely exhilarated, as if in learning to push the right buttons I had gained control over city living.

Scrubbing the floor was nothing new, except this one had to be waxed, and that required more reading of directions on the bottle. I watered the many live green plants, and found that some of Kitty's plants were silk, not real at all. Lord God above, don't let her see I watered a few before I knew they weren't real.

Noon came before I'd finished doing even one quarter of what was listed on those cards. It took so much time to figure out how to operate all the machines, and wrap the cords back like they'd been, and put the attachments on, and take them off, and put them away in neat order. Oh, gosh, at home all this

had been done with one old broom. I was tangled up in vacuum cord when the door

from the garage banged and Cal appeared in the back hall, staring at me in a strange, intense way, as if trying to see what I was really feeling. “Hey, kid,” he said after his survey, his eyes sort of unhappy, “there's no need to work like a slave. She's not here to see. Slow down.”

“But I haven't cleaned the windows yet, and I haven't washed the bric-​a-​brac, and I haven't”

“Sit down. Take a breather. Let me fix our lunch, and then we'll go shopping for the furniture you needand how about a movie for a treat? Now, tell me what you want for lunch.”

“Anything will suit me fine,” I said guiltily. “But I should finish the housework . . .”

He smiled bitterly, still eyeing me in that odd way. “She won't be home until ten or eleven tonight, and there is a special movie I think you need to see. Do you good to have some fun for a change. I presume you haven't had much. All life in mountain country isn't unpleasant, Heaven. Some mountains can deliver beauty, graceful living, peace, and even wonderful music . . .”

Why, I knew that.

It hadn't all been bad. We'd had our fun, running and laughing, swimming in the river, playing games we made up, chasing each other. Bad times came when Pa was home. Or when hunger took over.

I shook my head again to clear it of memories that could make me sad. I couldn't believe he'd want to take me to the movies, not when . . . “But you have ten TV sets, two and three in some rooms.”

Again he smiled. He was twice as handsome when he smiled, though his smiles never lasted long enough to make him seem truly happy. “They don't all work. They're just used as pedestals to hold Kitty's works of art.” He grinned ironically when he said that, as if he didn't admire his wife's artistic endeavors nearly as much as he should. “Anyway, a television is not like a movie theater, where the screen is huge, and the sound is better, and there are real people there to share your pleasure.”

My eyes locked with his a moment, then lowered. Why was he challenging me with his eyes? “Cal, I've never been to a movie, not even once.”

He reached to caress my cheek, his eyes soft and warm. "Then it's time you did go, so run on up and get ready, and I'll throw together a couple of sandwiches. Wear that pretty blue dress I bought for

youthe one that's going to fit." It did fit.

I stared in a mirror that had known only Kitty's kind of beauty, and felt so pretty now that my face had healed and there were no scars. And my hair shone as it never had before. Cal was kind and good to me. Cal liked me, and that proved there were men who could like me, even if Pa didn't. Cal was going to help me find Tom, Keith, Our Jane. Hope . . . I had hope . . a soaring kind of hope.

In the long run, it would all work out for the best. I was going to have my own bedroom with brand-​new furniture, new blankets, real pillowsoh, glory day, who'd ever have dreamed Cal could be like a real father! Why, I could even see Tom smiling as I ran down the stairs, to see the first movie of my life.

My own father had refused to love me, but that didn't hurt so much now that I had a new and better father.

WHEN THERE'S MUSIC

.

CAL'S HAM, LETTUCE, AND TOMATO SANDWICHES WERE delicious. And when he held the new blue coat for my arms to slip into, I said, “I can keep my head low so people won't notice I'm not really your daughter.”

He shook his head sadly and didn't laugh. “No. You hold your head high, feel proud. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and I'm proud to escort you to your first movie.” His hands rested lightly on my shoulders. “I hope to God Kitty will never do anything to spoil your face.”

There was so much he left unsaid as we both just stood there, caught in the mire of what Kitty was, and what Kitty could do. He sighed heavily, caught hold of my arm, and guided me toward the garage. “Heaven, if ever Kitty is unnecessarily hard on you, I want you to tell me. I love her very much, but I don't want her to harm you, physically or emotionally. I have to admit she can do both. Never be afraid to come to me for help when you need it.”

He made me feel good, made me feel that at last I had the right kind of father. I turned around and

smiled; he flushed and quickly looked away. Why would my smile make him embarrassed?

All the way to the furniture store I sat proudly beside him, filled with happy anticipation to have so much pleasure in one day, new furniture and a movie. All of a sudden Cal changed from sad to lighthearted, guiding me by my elbow when we entered the store full of so many different types of bedroom sets I couldn't decide. The salesman looked from me to Cal, pondering, so it seemed, our relationship. “My daughter,” Cal said proudly. “She'll choose what she likes.” The trouble was, I liked it all, and in the end it was Cal who chose what he considered appropriate for me. “This bed, that dresser, and that desk,” he ordered, “the ones that aren't too girlish and will see you through to your twenties and beyond.”

A small flutter of panic stirred in my chestI wouldn't be with him and Kitty when I was in my twenties, I'd be with my brothers and my sisters, in Boston. I tried to whisper this when the salesman stepped away. “No,” Cal denied, “we have to plan for the future as if we know what it is; to do otherwise cancels out the present and makes it meaningless.”

I didn't understand what he meant by that, except I liked the feeling that he wanted me

permanently in his life. Just thinking of how pretty my room was going

to look must have put stars in my eyes. “You look so prettylike someone just plu: led in your cord of happiness.”

“I'm thinking of Fanny in Reverend Wise's house. Now have a room as nice as hers must be.”

Just for saying that he bought a bedside table and a lamp with a fat blue base. “And two drawers in the table that lock, in case you have secrets. . .”

Strange how close this shopping expedition made us, as if creating a pretty room together gave us a special bond. “What movie are we going to see?” I asked when we were back in the car.

Again he was staring at me with that quizzical, self-​mocking look fleeting through his golden-​brown eyes. “If I were you, I shouldn't think it would matter.”

“Not to me, but it must to you.” “You'll see.” He'd say nothing more. It was exciting driving to the movie theater,

seeing all the crowds on the street. So much better than it had been with Kitty to spoil the fun with the tensions she caused. I'd never been inside a theater before. I was trembling with excitement, seeing so

many people all in one place, all spending money as if they had barrels of it. Cal bought popcorn, cola drinks, two candy bars, and only then did we settle down side by side in the near dark. I'd never thought it would be this dark in a movie theater.

My eyes widened when the colorful picture began with the woman on the mountaintop singing. The Sound of Music! Why, this was a movie that Logan had wanted to see withme. I couldn't feel unhappy about that, not when Cal was sharing the single big box of buttery, salty popcorn. It was hot, and I couldn't eat enough. Occasionally we'd both reach into the box at the same time. To sit there, to eat and drink and feast my eyes on the beauty of the movie, filled me with so much delight I felt as if I were living in a picture book with sound, movement, dancing, and singing. Oh, truly this had to be the most exhilarating day of my entire life.

On and on I sat spellbound, my heart bursting with happiness, a kind of magic enveloping me so I felt I was in that movie. The children were Tom, Fanny, Keith, and Our Jane . . . and me. That's the way we should have been, and I wouldn't have cared at all if Pa had blown a whistle, and hired a nun to tutor us. Oh, if only my brothers and sisters could be

here with us! After the movie Cal drove me to an elegant

restaurant called the Midnight Sun. A waiter pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit, and all the time Cal was smiling at me. I didn't know what to do when the waiter handed me a menu, except to stare at him in a helpless way. All of a sudden I was inundated with need for Tom, for Our Jane, for Keith and Grandpa, so much so I was near tears. . . but he wasn't seeing that. Cal was seeing something beautiful written on my face, as if my very youth and inexperience made him feel ten times more a man than Kitty did. “If you'll trust me, I'll order for both of us. But first tell me which you like most. Veal, beef, seafood, lamb, chicken, duck, what?”

Images of Miss Deale came again, she in her pretty magenta suit, smiling, appearing so proud to have us . . when nobody else wanted to know we existed. I thought of her giftshad they ever arrived? Were they back there on the porch of the cabin, with no one there to wear the clothes? Eat the food?

“Heaven, what meat do you want?”

Oh, my God . . . how did I know? I frowned, concentrating on the complicated menu. I'd had roast beef when Miss Deale took us to a restaurant not

nearly as fine as this one. "Try something you've always wanted to eat

and never have,“ Cal softly prompted. ”Well,“ I mused aloud, ”I've had fish caught in

the river near the cabinhad porkeaten many a chicken and had roast beef once, and it was really good, but I guess I'll have something brand-​new--you choose it."

He laughed and ordered salad and veal cordon bleu, for two. “Children in France grow up on wine, but I guess we'll wait a few years before you try that.” He'd encouraged me to order escargot, and only after I had finished my six did he explain that they were snails in hot garlic butter, and the bit of French bread I was using to sop up the delicious sauce hesitated in my hand that was suddenly trembling.

“Snails?” I asked, feeling queasy, sure he was teasing me. “Nobody, even the dumbest hill folks, eats things as nasty as snails.”

“Heaven,” he said with a warm smile in his eyes, "it's going to be fun teaching you about the world. Just don't say anything about this to my wife. She's stingy about restaurants, thinks they charge too much. Do you realize that since the day I married her we have not once eaten out except in fast-​food joints?

Kitty just doesn't appreciate gourmet cooking, and doesn't really understand what it is. She thinks she does. If she spends half an hour preparing a meal, she thinks that's gourmet food. Haven't you noticed how fast she puts a meal together? That's because she refuses to tackle anything complicated. Warm-​up food, I call what she cooks."

“But you said Kitty was a wonderful cook before!”

“I know, and she is, if you like her breakfast menu. . . that's what she cooks best, and country food that I don't like:”

That very day I began to fall in love with city life and city ways that were far, far different from mountain ways, or even valley life.

We were barely in the door when Kitty came home from her nighttime ceramic class, irritable as she stared at us. “What ya two do all day?”

“We went shopping for the new furniture,” Cal said casually.

She narrowed her eyes. “What store?” He told her, and her scowl came. “How much?” When he named a figure, she clasped her long-

nailed hand to her forehead, seeming appalled. "Cal, ya damn foolya should buy her only cheap stuff!

She don't know good from bad! Now, ya send that all back if it comes when I'm gone. If I'm here, I'll send it back!"

My heart sank.

“You will not send it back, Kitty,” he said, turning to head for the stairs, “even if you are here. And you might as well know I ordered the best mattress, the best pillows and bed linens, and even a pretty coverlet with a dust ruffle to match the curtains.”

Kitty screamed: “YER TEN TIMES A DAMNED FOOL!”

“All right, I'm a damned fool who will pay for everything with my own money, not yours. Good night, Heaven. Come, Kitty, you sound tiredafter all, it was your idea that we drive to Winnerrow and find ourselves a daughter. Did you think she'd sleep on the floor?”

I could hardly contain myself when the furniture arrived two days later. Cal was there to direct where things should go. He expressed a desire to have the room wallpapered. “I hate so much white, but she never asks me what color I'd like.”

“It's fine, Cal. I love the furniture.” Together, when the deliverymen had gone, he and I made the

bed with the pretty new flowered sheets, and then we spread on the blankets, and topped everything off with the pretty quilted coverlet.

“You do like blue?” he asked. “I get so damned tired of hot pink.”

“I love blue.”

“Cornflower blue, like your eyes.” He stood in the middle of my small room, now prettier than I could have imagined, and seemed too big and too masculine for all the dainty things he'd chosen. I turned in circles and stared at accessories I hadn't known he'd ordered. A set of heavy brass duck bookends for the books I'd stuffed in the broom closet with my clothes. A desk blotter, pencil cup, and pen and pencil set, and a small desk lamp, and framed pictures for the wall. Tears came to my eyes, he'd bought so much.

I sobbed, “Thank you,” and that's all I could manage before I lost my voice and cried all the tears I'd saved up through the years, flat on my face on that narrow twin bed that was so pretty, and Cal sat awkwardly on the side of the bed and waited for me to finish. He cleared his throat. "I've got to get back to work, Heaven, but before I go, I have another surprise. I'll lay it here on your desk, and you can

enjoy it after I'm gone." The sound of his feet departing made me turn

over and sit up, and once more I called out, “Thank you for everything.” I heard his car drive off, and I was still sitting on the bed . . . and only then did I look at the desk.

A letter lay on the dark blue of the desk blotter . . . a single letter.

I don't even remember how I got there and when I sat, except I did sit, and I stared for the longest time at my name written on that envelope. Miss Heaven Leigh Casteel. In the upper left-​hand corner was Logan's name and address. Logan!

He hadn't - forgotten me! He did care enough to write! For the first time I used a letter opener. What nice handwriting Logan had, not as scrawly as the way Tom wrote, or as precisely perfect as Pa's small script.

. Dear Heaven, You just can't know how much I've worried

about you. Thank God you wrote, so now I can go to sleep knowing you're all right.

I miss you so much it hurts. When the sky is bright and blue, I can almost see your eyes, but that

only makes me miss you more. To be honest, my mom tried to keep your letter

hidden so I'd never read it, but one day I found it stashed in her desk when I was hunting for stamps, and for the first time in my life, I was really disappointed in my own mother. We fought, and I made her admit she'd hidden your letter from me. Now she admits she was wrong, and has asked me, and you, to forgive her.

I see Fanny often, and she's fine, looking great. She's a terrible showoff, and to be honest again, I think that Reverend Wise may have his hands fuller than he thought.

Fanny says she wasn't sold! She says your father gave all his children away to save them from starving. I hate to believe either one of you, yet you've never lied to me before, and it's you I do believe. I haven't seen your fatherbut I have seen Tom. He came into the store and asked if I had your address so he can write. Your grandfather is living in a rest home in Winnerrow.

I have no idea how to help you find Keith and Our Jane. Keep on writing, please. I still haven't met anyone I like nearly as much as I do Heaven Leigh Casteel.

look.

And until I see you again, I'm not even going to

My love as always, Logan . I cried again I was so happy. Shortly after Logan's letter came I turned

fifteen. I knew better now than to call attention to myself and didn't say a word to Kitty or Cal, but somehow Cal knew and gave me an incredible gifta brand-​new typewriter!

“It will help with your homework.” His smile was wide, so pleased with my overwhelmed response. “Take typing in school. It never hurts to know how to type.”

That typewriter, as much as I loved it, wasn't the biggest thrill of my fifteenth birthday. Oh, no. It was the huge card that came in the mail, bright with pretty flowers, sweet with a verse, and thick with a silk scarf and a letter from Logan.

Still, I longed to hear from Tom. He had my address now; why wasn't he writing?

In a whole school of girls I managed to make two good friends who repeatedly invited me to visit their homes. Neither one understood why I always had to refuse. Then, to my dismay, discouraged or put off,

they began, bit by bit, to drift away. How could I tell anyone that Kitty flatly denied me friends who might take time away from the housework I had to do every day? The boys who asked me for dates I had to reject too, though not altogether for the same reasons. It was Logan I wanted to date, not them. I was saving myself for Logan and not once did I question that he was doing the same thing.

The house I slaved to keep clean and tidy never stayed that way - when Kitty could come in to devastate ten hours of work with her careless habits. The plants I watered and dusted and fertilized withered from too much care, and then Kitty yelled at me for being stupid. “Any damn fool kin keep a plant living . . . any damn fool!”

She found her water-​spotted silk plants and slapped me for being an idiot hill-​scum girl who didn't have brains. “Yer thinkin bout boys, kin see it in yer eyes!” she yelled when she caught me idling one afternoon when she came home unexpectedly. “Don't ya sit in t'livin room when we ain't home! TV is off limits fer ya when yer alone! Ya stay busy, ya hear?”