The Last Sin Eater (8 page)

It didn’t come.

When I finally dared openmy eyes again, the stranger was gone.

I ran all the way to the cemetery. The jar of preserves was gone. For one instant, I felt a rush of hope until I saw the footprints. My heart sank. I didn’t want to go home to what I knew was waiting.

The rain came, peltingme with icy drops as I stayed the day in the forest. I knew the storm would pass soon. When it did, I went and sat in the midst of the meadow below Miz Elda’s house, drying in the afternoon sunshine. It was warm enough that steam rose from my thin dress as I picked mountain daisies, shook off the raindrops, and spliced stems together to make a wreath. I laced in bluets and Queen Anne’s lace and mountain laurel.

When I finally came home, Mama was sitting in Granny’s chair outside. Her face was pale and rigid. I had never seen such a look in her eyes before and was afraid. Papa and Iwan hadn’t come in from fishing yet, and we were alone. I held out the crown of flowers for her. A year ago she would have taken them and kissed me. Now, she just looked at them, winced, and rose. Turning away, she went on into the house. I followed her and saw the jar of preserves sitting right in the middle of the table.

“If it ain’t one thing, it’s another, Cadi. Ye’ve always been contrary. Right from the first when it took me two days birthin’ ye. I almost died . . .” She drew in a sobbing breath. “Ye’ve always been a child going where ye oughtn’t go and doing what ye oughtn’t do. And now ye’re a thief besides, stealing from the mouths of your own family.”

There was no defense against her words, the first she’d spoke to me in a long time. They came in a rush, pouring out hot and heavy. She grabbed my arms, shaking me so hard I thought my neck would snap. “What’re ye doing in the graveyard?” Her fingers dug in painfully, jerking me back and forth. “Ye never think before ye do summat, do ye? Ye never think of the evil that can come. Ye just do what comes to ye without a care!”

Letting loose of me, she grabbed the flower wreath from my hand. “Ye think flowers can undo what’s been done?” She broke it. “Ye think to fix grief with
these?”
She tore at it with trembling hands until the flowers were scattered at her feet. “Ye think being sorry’s enow? It’ll never change nothing. I wish . . . I wish . . .” She stopped, her face white of a sudden when wailing filled the room.

My hands gripped my head, and the sound continued. I’m not sure when I realized I was doing the wailing, but I couldn’t stop. The sound come from down deep inside where something was broken. All I could do was stand there and look at the shredded wreath and Mama and wail.

Trembling, she took a step back from me, her face contorting. She looked down at the floor. “Ohhh . . .” Dropping to her knees, she gripped her head and rocked back and forth, and I fell silent.

“What goes on in here?” Papa said from the doorway. Seeing Mama, he came in quickly and yanked me away from her. “What’d ye do now, Cadi? Go on outside. Go on, I say! Get out of here!”

I didn’t have to be told again.

It was Iwan who found me sitting in the quiet of the barn. “Mama’s fine,” he said as he sat down beside me. “She dinna say what ye’d done to get her so upset. Ye want to tell me?” When I shook my head, he ran his hand gently over my hair. “Mama says to come in for supper.”

“I ain’t hungry.”

“Ye sick then?”

I gave a shrug and looked away, toying with the straw. Aye. I was sick. Heartsick.

He plucked a piece of straw from my hair. “Mama said hungry or not, ye’re to come in and sit with the rest of us.” He took me by the hand.

No one said much of anything. Even Papa didn’t seem to have much appetite. He said he was going to have to make a trip down to the trading post for more shot and powder, and if Mama would tell him what she needed, he’d see to it. When I got up and cleared the dishes, Mama sat looking at me for a long moment. I could feel her eyes on my back. She got up quietlike and went outside to sit in Granny’s chair. She stayed there the rest of the evening, just staring up at the darkening sky. I was in bed long before she came back in.

Head covered with Granny’s quilt, I could hear her moving about while Papa snored. She went to bed once and then got up again. I could hear her moving things about on the shelves and wondered if she was counting the jars and cans again, wondering how much else I might have stole. I burrowed down deeper.

“Cadi?”

I sjpgened, but it was no use pretending I was sleeping. I drew the quilt down slightly, afeared of what more she would have to say to me.

“Take ’em.” She put the jar of preserves next to me. “I
want
ye to have ’em.” Her voice broke softly. She stood a moment longer. Reaching out, she made to touch me and then withdrew again, padding back to bed.

Come morning, I put the jar of preserves back in the cemetery.

S E V E N

Brogan Kai and two of his older sons came to talk with Papa. I shucked corn on the porch while Mama sat inside, spinning. She had heard the hound barking and asked me what was wrong. Once told, she went back to her own thoughts, not plagued by curiosity. Like it was most days, her mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in the past, I reckoned, where Elen still lived.

Fagan’s father was the fiercest looking man I ever seen. He had dark hair and eyes, and he was taller than Papa by a head and built thick and hard. Just seeing him put fear in most people, and Cleet and Douglas took after him. I wondered how Fagan dared defy his father, being small by comparison to the rest of his clan. Fagan had blue eyes like his mother. Iwan said once that Fagan was like a falcon born into a nest of eagles.

All three Kais shouldered guns that morning. I figured they were out hunting again. They were always hunting. Once a year, they took pelts outside our highland valley, though they never seemed to come back the richer for it.

I found it disturbing they talked so long to Papa. Kai men were not much for visiting. The only time you ever saw them all together was when someone had died and they came to pay their respects.

Or when there was trouble.

I reckoned the latter by Papa’s stance. Soon as the Kais left, Papa came up to the house. “There’s a stranger in our highlands, Cadi. If ye see him, get away. Hear me?”

“Yes, Papa, but why?” I hoped he could put my fears in words, but he glowered at me.

“Don’t be asking why. Just do like you’re told. Ye’ve shucked enow. Go on and play. But stay close, ye hear? Your mama will call ye back when she’s ready.”

He could have just said straight out he wanted to talk to Mama without me around to eavesdrop. Setting the bowl aside, I went down the steps, making to leave. Soon as he went inside, I darted around and squatted beneath the window Mama always left open while she spun. I had to know what the Kais had said about the man of God. I was willing to take whatever came, even a lashing and dark hours in the woodshed if need be.

“An outsider’s come,” I heard Papa saying. “The Kai says the mon’s camping in the center of the valley by the river and claims he’s come in the name of the Lord.”

The click of her spinning wheel didn’t stop. “What would God want with us?” I could hear the bitterness in her voice, as clear as her laughter had once been.

Papa didn’t say nothing for a minute, then went on.“The Kai says he’s crazy. Talks about all of us being rotten and needing redemption. The Kai says to stay away from him.”

It seemed an odd warning since Mama never ventured down the hill anymore. She couldn’t bear to go near the river or even look at it. It didn’t seem likely she’d be crossing it to listen to some stranger from the outside world.

“If he’s dangerous, why don’t they run him out now?”

“Brogan’s given the mon the word and time to think on it. Figures he’ll go on his own if no one pays him any mind.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“The Kai’ll deal with him. Outsiders have come before. They dinna stay long.”

I could not remember a single outsider entering our valley and reckoned Papa must be talking of times before I came to be. I wondered if Iwan would remember.

“If he ain’t dangerous,” Mama asked, “where’s the harm in letting him stay?”

“The land’s all taken up. We ain’t got room for more.”

“That’s not the reason, and you know it.”

“Reason enow. Ye want people coming and bringing their own ideas about how things oughta go? The Kais and Forbeses and Humes and all the rest came up here to these highlands to get away from all that. We have our ways, Fia. Ye ken that. And they be tried and true.”

“Our
ways? Seems to me Brogan lays down the law harder than—”

“Dunna be speaking again’ him, Fia.”

“They did what he wanted, dinna they? And now we’re cursed for it!”

“We’re not cursed. Dunna talk such foolishness.”

“Three children dead, Angor. What do you call that?
Three.”
I could hear her weeping.

“Others have lost children to fevers and such, Fia. Ye oughta be counting your blessings instead of wallowing in your grief. We’ve had enow!We’ve got Iwan and Cadi.” His voice softened some. “Think on them for a change.”

“Iwan’s good as gone. Soon as he’s old enow he’ll be taking his leave. And Cadi? What comfort is she, mad as she is?”

“She isna mad!”

“What do ye call it when she talks to air all the time?”

“Maybe the healer’s right and she’s keeping company with a taint.”

“Don’t say that!”

“It oughta bring ye comfort, Fia,” he said in a cold, cruel voice. “It could mean Elen’s not gone from us after all.”

Mama wept harder, and my guilt grew intolerable. It was what I’d done that had them at each other’s throats. I sat down, back against the wall and my hands covering my head, hearing them go on at one another.

“Just stay away from the mon like I’m telling ye,” Papa said. “Ye believe in God, same as I do. Wedon’t need anybody saving us, and we sure don’t need no one laying more burdens on our backs. We got more than enow already.”

“How do ye know that’s what he’s about?”

“The Kai heard him out and says so. That’s good enow for me.”

“Brogan has his own ax to grind.”

Papa was silent for a moment. “If the stranger comes, I’ll warn him off.”

“And if you and Iwan are off hunting?”

“Bolt the door and dunna give him so much as a by-your-leave. Iwan will do the same if I’m gone.”

“Ye told Iwan? When? I thought he was off hunting.”

“He was at Byrneses’ when Brogan stopped by.”

“What was he doing there?”

“Cluny’s growing up. Or haven’t ye noticed?”

“Cluny?” Mama sounded sad.

“Take comfort in it, Fia. She may be the chain that binds him to this valley. He mightn’t leave at all.”

I heard Papa’s footsteps cross the room and go down the steps. Mama was weeping. Pushing myself up, I ran into the forest. I kept running, branches lashing my face, until I was too tired to go on. Sinking down, I leaned against the trunk of a great pine, my chest heaving for air, wishing I could die right there and never hear them tearing at one another again.

After a while, the birdsong and the wind in the trees com forted me. I wandered down the mountainside and sat in the sunshine among the yellow-faced daisies stretching their faces heavenward. Lying back, I stared up at the clouds moving slowly across the sky. Shapes changed, shifting billows of white. One looked like a hound sleeping. Another was like someone sitting on grass, one arm stretched out toward the horizon.

I started thinking on the man of God, wondering what he had come to say, wondering, too, why the Kai was so determined he not be heard. I reckoned it must be my contrary nature rising in me again, for what else could it be that made me rise and head down toward the valley floor despite the fear I had of both men?

The questing spirit in me, I reckoned, ever seeking what it would never find: a way back to the time before—

I cut off the thought, turning my mind away. The Kai had given his command, and Papa said heed it. So why did something deep down inside me gnaw at me to hear the man out? God had sent him. Who can stand against God and not come out the worst for it? Didn’t God see and hear everything and bring judgment? Was I not already condemned?

I went down until I stood at the edge of the trees looking out across the valley floor. A curl of smoke rose into the morning air and a man sat close by, roasting a fish. My heart beat faster, and taking a deep breath, I sneaked closer, finally going down on my hands and knees. Swallowing my fear, I crawled through the tall grass until I reached the shrubs that lined the river. Inching closer, I peered down the bank and across the ripples to where he sat, head bowed. He ate, rose and washed his hands, then sat again, head bowed.

“A day in the presence of the Lord is better than a thousand lived without him,” came a soft whisper.

Glancing behind me, I saw Lilybet standing close by. Afraid she’d be seen, I motioned her to sit down and be silent. She came closer, stretching out on her stomach beside me.

“He knows we’re here, Katrina Anice.”

“I was very careful.”

“And intent.”

“Is that so wrong?”

She smiled. “You’re not far from the truth.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since the day you saw me at the river.”

Sometimes there was no talking to her and making sense of it.

The sound of rustling made my heart leap in fear. Copperheads sometimes slithered among the brush and rock of the riverbank. I looked about me, muscles tense. Fagan appeared, briefly startled at the sight of me. He had crawled on his belly through the grass, same way I had.

“What’re ye doing here?” he growled low, a look of pure disgust on his face.

“I could ask the same of you!” I whispered back, resentful of his presence.

“Dinna my father tell ye to stay away?”

“Same as he told you, I reckon.”

His mouth tightened. He got that look on his face that he was going to do what he wanted no matter what and started crawling forward again, using his elbows and snaking his body along until he came up alongside me where Lilybet had been. Bold with me, she was shy of others. And strange beyond my ken.

In truth, I was glad of Fagan’s company and didn’t mind him knowing so. “I seen him when he first came up the trail through the Narrows.”

“And?”

“He was talking to God. And God answered.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I am not!”

“Shhhh!”

Tears pricked my eyes as I glared at him.

“Has he said anything?” Fagan said.

“No.”

“Done anything?”

“Ate a fish he roasted.”

“Maybe he’s sleeping now,” he whispered. “Can’t tell nothing from this distance.” He edged closer and one of the branches snapped back, smacking me in the face and drawing a startled cry of pain. The branch waved and shuddered over my head as I ducked and covered my stinging cheek.

“Well, now ye’ve done it.” Fagan’s voice trembled.

I looked up again, and my heart bounded around in my chest like a rabbit before a hound, for the man had raised his head. His bearded face was cocked to one side, like an animal alerted that an enemy was near. When he rose to his feet, my heart stopped and then began beating again so fast I thought it was coming up into my throat. I could scarcely draw breath.

“He’s looking this way,” Fagan whispered.

“I con see. I con see.”

“Don’t move. I don’t think he’s seen us.”

The man came a few feet closer to the edge of the river. “Blessed is the one that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly,” he called out, “nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful!”

He was looking straight across the river toward us, and I moaned. Fagan shimmied back quickly and clamped a hand over my mouth, his fingers digging in. “Shhhh!”

“And the one who delights in the word of the Lord and meditates on it day and night shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season. His leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.”

Fagan’s grip eased as he watched the man.

“The ungodly are not so!” the man shouted. “They are like chaff which the wind driveth away!” He waved his arms and stepped closer. “Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish!”

Fagan let go of me, fascination on his face, and I took the opportunity to edge back further into the thick brush and out of sight of the man of God.

“Where ye going?” Fagan said.

“He wants to kill us,” I whispered, keeping my head down.

“How so?”

“Can ye not see? Can ye not hear? He comes in the name of the Lord.”

“That’s the reason I want to hear.”

“Ye’ve heard.”

“But not understood.”

“So ye’ll stay until he calls lightning down on you?”

“He dinna strike ye dead the first day, did he?”

“I dinna give him the chance!”

The man came to the very edge of the river. “Hear the word of the Lord!” he called out so loudly that his deep voice carried across the waters. “Take heed what ye hear! With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured unto you; and unto you that hear shall more be given. For ye that hath, to ye shall be given: and ye that hath not, from ye shall be taken even that which ye hath!”

“What does he mean, do ye think?” Fagan said.

“He’s saying what I done will be done to me and more.” Unless I found the sin eater first. If I could talk him into taking my sins away now, maybe then I could come back and get close enough to hear what the man of God had come to say and not fear being struck dead in the doing.

Fagan was pale but determined. “I’m staying.”

I left him to his own conscience, figuring he didn’t have the sins on his head that I had on mine. I made my way cautiously back through the tall grass and then darted into the cover of forest as fast as I could. Ducking behind a tree, I looked back around the trunk to see if my departure had been noted. No dark clouds or rumbling in the heavens. The man was still standing near the water, looking toward the place where Fagan was hiding. And he was talking, though not as loud as before. Leastwise, not loud enough so I could hear him.