Marta's Legacy Collection (52 page)

“A horse?” Charlie’s eyes brightened. “Can we get a horse?”

Daddy laughed and glanced at Mommy. “Maybe. But not right away.”

No one asked Carolyn what she thought about moving away from the only house she had ever known. Carolyn had no friends or playmates. Only one thing worried her. “Will Oma know how to find me?”

Mommy and Daddy exchanged a look. “Of course.” Daddy nodded. Mommy stared out the window.

Every Friday after work, Carolyn’s father drove the family out to “the property.” They went through Paxtown with its Old West buildings, through meadows, and over a hill with a cemetery. Happy Valley Road was the first left on the other side of the hill. Dad had set up a tent-house. Charlie would take off to climb the big walnut tree; Mom laid out sleeping bags on the platforms, set up the Coleman stove, and started dinner. Dad’s first project was to dig a deep hole and build an outhouse. Next, he built a shed for his tools and put a heavy padlock on the door.

Left on her own, Carolyn wandered with Bullet. When he scared a man’s sheep, Dad drove a steel stake deep into the ground and attached a chain to it. After that, Bullet could only walk in circles. He’d run until he wound himself tight, and Carolyn would walk him in circles the other way until he had more freedom.

Charlie knew everyone on the road within a few weeks. He took Carolyn over to meet their next-door neighbor. Lee Dockery had beehives behind his house. “Call me Dock.” He leaned down, smiling at her. “‘Hickory, dickory, dock, the mouse ran up the clock.’” His fingers walked from her stomach up her chest and tickled her under the chin. She giggled. He said she could come over anytime and gave them each a honeycomb dripping with sweetness.

Her father told her to stay out of the way. Her mother told her to try not to get so dirty. With Charlie gone most of the time, Carolyn had no one. She often went over to the barbed-wire fence and watched Dock work among his hives. Bees swarmed around him when he lifted wooden frames filled with honeycombs. “Don’t they sting you?” she called.

“Bees are my friends. I never take more than they’re willing to share.”

Dock invited her inside his house and let her spin honey from the combs. He let her dip her finger into the thick, rich, sweet-smelling mass dripping down a tube into glass jars. He called her “honeybee” and petted her head the same way she petted Bullet. Often, he lifted her onto his lap and talked about his wife who had died and how much they had wanted to have children and couldn’t. “You look sleepy.” He let her rest her head against his chest. He smelled of tobacco and sweat. He stroked her legs under her dress. “Your mother is calling for you.” Dock lifted her and set her on her feet. “You have to go home now, honeybee.” He kissed her on the mouth and looked so sad. “Come back real soon, and we’ll play some games together.”

Carolyn ducked under barbed wire stretched between fence posts and ran through the mustard flowers.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” Her mother shook her. “Where were you?”

“At Dock’s.”

“Dock?”

“Mr. Dockery, Mom.” Charlie answered for her. “The bee man. He gives us honeycombs.” He sat at the makeshift table where the family ate their meals. “He’s really nice.”

Frowning, her mother let go of her and straightened, looking toward the house next door. “Well, you leave Mr. Dockery alone. I’m sure he has work to do and doesn’t need you underfoot.”

Carolyn didn’t tell her that Dock liked her more than Daddy or Mommy. He said he wanted her to come back and play real soon.

4

All that summer, the family still lived in the rental house near the penitentiary during the week and spent weekends on their new property. Neither Daddy nor Mommy read stories or played games anymore. Her father read big books that came in the mail. He made notes and drawings on yellow legal pads. He rolled out white paper and used a ruler to make bigger drawings with numbers all over. Her mother had housework and laundry and the garden. Charlie had friends. Carolyn played alone. She always had the first bath while Charlie listened to a radio program. She was always first in bed, first with the lights out.

Curling on her side, the rag doll tucked tight against her, Carolyn remembered riding around with Oma in the gray Plymouth. She missed opening a package of Wonder bread and eating fresh slices on the way home from the grocery store. She missed having stories read to her and working puzzles on a board Oma kept under her bed. She missed helping in the kitchen and having tea parties in the afternoon. Most of all, she missed Oma’s hugs and kisses. Her mother didn’t hug or kiss anyone except Daddy.

Charlie went off with his friends every morning, and Mommy did chores inside the house. “Go on outside and play, Carolyn.” Carolyn made mud cookies alongside the house, baked them on a board, and pretended to feed her rag doll while Bullet sat beside her, head high, ears perked, panting. Anytime anyone came near the gate, he growled and barked. Sometimes he licked Carolyn’s face, but Mommy didn’t like him to kiss her. When he did, she always made Carolyn come in and wash with soap that got in her eyes and burned like fire.

She looked forward to Friday night, when Daddy drove them all to the property. Saturday, while her parents poured and smoothed concrete foundations and framed walls, Carolyn went over to Dock’s house. When she got sticky, he gave her a bath. He didn’t just throw a washcloth to her and tell her to wash herself. He used his hands.

He said he loved her. He said he’d never hurt her.

And she believed him.

At the end of the summer, her father finished the big room and the family moved to the property. While Mommy plastered the walls and painted, Daddy started work on the kitchen and bathroom and two bedrooms. Carolyn was glad she would get to share a room with Charlie again. She didn’t like sleeping in a room all by herself.

Dock waved Carolyn over when Mommy wasn’t looking and invited Carolyn to play when her mother went to work in her garden. He had Chinese checkers and pick-up sticks. He gave her honey and crackers and milk. “Don’t tell your mother or father. They’ll think you’re bothering me and tell you never to visit me again. You want to come back, don’t you? You like spending time with old Dock, don’t you?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Carolyn said she loved him. And she meant it. He always made her go back when Mommy called. And she knew better than to talk about Dock to anyone.

As soon as Daddy got home, he went to work on the house. The power saw screamed, filling the air with the scent of sawdust, until Mom said dinner was ready.

“You’ll be starting school in September, Carolyn,” her mother told her. “We’re going to orientation day. You’ll meet your teacher, Miss Talbot, and learn where to go to catch the school bus home.”

Carolyn told Dock she was afraid to go to school. What if nobody liked her? What if the bus left without her? What if . . . ? He lifted her onto his lap and told her everything would be fine. He said he wished she were his little girl. He’d take her away, and she’d never have to go to school. They’d go to Knott’s Berry Farm or the San Diego Zoo. He’d take her to the beach and let her play in the sand as long as she wanted. “Would you like to live with me, honeybee?”

“I’d miss Charlie and Oma.”

“Charlie has his own friends, and your
oma
hardly ever comes and sees you.”

Dock got tired of playing board games. He showed her other games—secret games, he called them, because she was very special. He tied a red silk ribbon around her neck and made a big bow. The first few times, she felt uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach, but he was so nice to her. Gradually, she got over those feelings and did whatever he told her. She didn’t want him to stop liking her. Who would be her friend then?

Then one day while they played their secret games, he hurt her. She cried out and Dock clamped his strong, rough hand over her mouth. She tasted blood. Frightened, she struggled, but he held her more firmly. He told her to calm down, to be quiet; everything would be all right; hush now,
hush
!

Then Dock started to cry. “I’m sorry, honeybee. I’m so sorry!” He cried so hard, Carolyn was scared. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He washed the blood off her bare legs and put her underwear back on.

He held her between his knees, his face wet and scared. “I can’t be your friend anymore, honeybee. And you can’t say anything about coming over here. Not to anyone. Not ever. Your mother told you not to come. She’d spank you for disobeying. Your father would shoot me or take me to jail. You don’t want that to happen, do you? It’d be your fault.” His eyes darted around. “Promise you won’t say anything! We’ll both get into a lot of trouble if you tell anyone we’re friends.”

She lay in bed that night, curling on her side, sucking her thumb, still hurting deep inside. Charlie slept like a rock in the other bed. Dock came to her window and tapped softly. Heart pounding, she pretended to be asleep.

The next day, when Dock waved at her, she ducked her head and pretended she didn’t see.

He came back again that night and talked softly through the window while Charlie slept. She didn’t want to go to Knott’s Berry Farm or the San Diego Zoo. She didn’t want to go to Mexico. “I’ll come back, honeybee. I love you, baby.” Shivering, she kept her eyes shut until he went away. She didn’t want to play games with him anymore. When all was quiet, she pulled her blanket off the bed, grabbed her pillow, and hid in the closet.

When Charlie slid the door open in the morning, she screamed. He jumped back and screamed, too. Her mother came running in. “What’s the matter with you two?”

“Carolyn’s in the closet!”

“What are you doing in the closet?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

She shook her head. She didn’t dare tell.

She had nightmares every night. Mommy and Daddy started talking about her in low voices.

“Something’s happened to her, Trip. I don’t know what, but something’s wrong. I feel it. Miss Talbot called this afternoon. She said Carolyn has been falling asleep in the playhouse. Apparently she’s sucking her thumb again.”

“She hasn’t done that in two years.”

“Some of the children tease her about it. Miss Talbot tried to talk to her, but she said Carolyn is like a little clam. She hardly talks at all.”

Her parents kept looking at her all through dinner. Her father asked if someone was bullying her at school. Her mother said she didn’t have to be afraid to tell them anything, but Dock had told her what would happen to her if she did. When she didn’t say anything, they asked Charlie. “Have you seen anything going on at school?”

“We’re not in the same playground as the little kids.”

“What about the school bus?” Dad wanted to know. “Anyone bothering her?”

“I don’t know, Dad.”

“Well, make it your business to find out.” Dad raised his voice. “She’s your sister! Watch out for her!”

Tucked in bed for the night and bedroom door closed, Charlie talked to her in the dark. “Tell me who’s picking on you, Carolyn. I’ll beat ’em up. I’ll make them leave you alone.” Carolyn thought about how big Dock was, how easily he could hurt her brother. She pulled the blanket over her head and hid under the covers.

When she went to school, Miss Talbot talked with her. “Your mommy says you’re having nightmares. Can you tell me about your dreams, sweetheart?” Carolyn shrugged her shoulders and pretended not to remember. Everyone would be mad at her if she said anything about Dock—Mommy, Daddy, Charlie. She had made Dock cry, hadn’t she? She had done something terribly wrong.

When Mommy and Daddy started talking about their next-door neighbor, Mr. Dockery, Carolyn felt the terror rise up inside her, catching her by the throat. Her stomach clenched as though Dock were touching her again. She remembered the pain. She remembered the blood. She remembered every word he said. Little yellow and black bees swarmed around her face. She felt cold sensations like insects landing on her and walking around on her skin with little prickly feet.

“I went over this morning, and there are newspapers all over his driveway. He hasn’t picked them up in days.”

Daddy said something must be wrong, and he’d go over and check on him. Carolyn broke out in a cold sweat while he was gone. He came back and said the mail had piled up by his door, too. He couldn’t see anything through the windows. The drapes had been pulled. He made a phone call. Mommy told her to go outside and play when the police came.

Carolyn wanted to run away, but didn’t know where to go. She climbed the walnut tree and watched when her father and the other police officer opened the front door of Lee Dockery’s house. They came out without him.

Mommy and Daddy talked about Lee Dockery in the living room that evening, after Charlie and Carolyn had been sent to bed. Carolyn got up and sat by the open door, listening.

“We talked with neighbors. No one’s seen him in weeks. His truck’s gone. So are the beehives. It’s like he packed up and took off in a hurry. No one has any idea where he’d go or if he’s coming back. They all said he’s a strange old bird.”

“No one would just walk away from a house and property. Maybe he went to visit relatives.”

“No relatives that anyone knows about. I never saw anyone visit. Did you?”

“Charlie and Carolyn went over a few times, but I told them to stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“Something about him. I don’t know. He gave me the creeps. Trip, you don’t suppose . . .” Mommy sounded worried.

“What?”

“Oh, I’m probably overreacting. I just wondered if Carolyn’s behavior could have anything to do with him. I did tell her to stay away from him, but what if she didn’t?”

Carolyn held her breath. Had they figured out her secret? Would Daddy go after Dock and shoot him, like Dock had said he would?

“Carolyn?” Daddy laughed. “She’s much too timid to go visit a strange neighbor without one of us dragging her over there.”

Mommy was quiet for a minute. Then she said, “I guess you’re right. I just wish I knew what was wrong with her. Trip, she hardly says two words to me. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Then Mommy was crying. Carolyn crept back to bed before she could get into any more trouble than she was already in.

1953

Carolyn’s nightmares continued through the winter months but began to lessen as daylight lasted longer. She didn’t see as many shadows at night, didn’t hear footsteps outside the bedroom window, and didn’t have to hide in the closet anymore. She could slip into Charlie’s bed. He slept so deeply, he didn’t notice until morning.

Dad took time off from building the house to put up a swing. “Might give her something to do. . . .” Carolyn spent hours sitting in the tire seat, turning the ropes until they grew taut, and then lifting her feet off the ground so she’d spin until she felt light-headed and dizzy. Her mother pushed her sometimes. Once, she even sat on the swing herself and showed Carolyn how to pump her legs so she could go higher.

Every few months, Carolyn and Charlie had to go to a hospital for “skin tests.” Mom checked their arms every day for a week before taking them back for the doctor to see. When the doctor said, “Negative,” Mom smiled and relaxed.

Carolyn made a friend in first grade. New to Paxtown and new to school, Suzie clung to her mother like a limpet and had to be pried off by their teacher, Miss Davenport. Miss Davenport called Carolyn over and asked her to sit with Suzie and “make her feel at home” while she went to greet other children. Carolyn understood Suzie. They became inseparable at school. Every recess, they played hopscotch or climbed the monkey bars or took turns pushing each other on the swings. They ate together in the cafeteria. Suzie told Carolyn she lived in Kottinger Village and her daddy was a soldier in the Army. She had two younger brothers and her mother was “expecting.” Carolyn asked what she was expecting, and Suzie said a baby brother or sister.