"Sir John," she said.
And someone hammered on the door.
3.
Moonbow watched her mother pace in front of them, hands gesturing helplessly, mumbling, looking up now and again to the sky.
"Star," she whispered.
Starshine shook her head sharply, an order to be quiet.
Not fair, Moonbow thought; Momma believes and we don"t. It"s not fair.
Pinp.r.i.c.ks of damp cold as the fog drifted over her face; the cry of a mournful bird deep in the woods across the river. In one of the rooms behind her someone turned on a TV, music and voices blending harshly and loudly. A car"s engine. A truck"s rumbling. When she checked over her shoulder, the window lights were smeared and fading.
"Momma? Momma, maybe we"d better go inside now."
"I need to think," her mother said. "I need a minute to think."
"There"s nothing to think about," Starshine told her. "We"re tired, Momma. We"re sick of it."
"No," Jude answered sharply, harshly. She spun around, faced them, and the girls recoiled. "You think I"m not tired, Star? Do you really think this is the way I dreamed of bringing up my girls?" She took a step closer, lowered her voice. "Do you honestly believe that this," and she spread her arms, "is the way I want us to live?"
Moonbow felt her sister trembling, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it hard to stop her from answering.
"Trey Falkirk died so we could get away, and don"t you ever forget it," Jude said, each word the crack of a fierce barbed whip. "He loved us all, you know that more than anyone, and he did what he had to do so we could do what we have to do." A hand lifted quickly. "Don"t ask, Star, don"t ask, because I don"t really know. All I know is, Lady Beatrice agrees that we have to keep on, we have to find that man I saw. We have to find him soon." The hand dropped as if it were too heavy to hold up. "After that... I don"t know. I do not know. But I do know that if we stop now ..."
She looked up, looked back and touched the weighted bottom of her veil with one finger. "If I can live with this for the rest of my life, you can live with me just a little while longer."
"Not fair," Star said quietly. "That"s not fair, Momma."
"No," she said flatly. "It isn"t."
Moonbow was surprised. This wasn"t like Momma, not like her at all, using what had happened to her face to make them do what she wanted. She"d never, ever done it before, and it was more than a little frightening now.
"All right, Momma," she said, giving Star"s hand another squeeze, more gently this time.
Starshine slumped in defeat and said again, quietly, "It"s still not fair."
"I"ll make it up to you," Jude said, dropping to her knees in front of them, a hand on their knees. "I swear to G.o.d, I"ll make it up-"
The first scream stopped her.
The second one brought the girls to their feet.
"Lady Bea," Starshine shouted, and jumped over the log, sprinted for the motel.
Moonbow and Jude were right behind her when they raced around the corner, right behind her when she reached the concrete walk that stretched the length of the building. They reached the door to their room together, and Moonbow froze.
Lady Beatrice was on the far bed, skirt bunched up around her waist, a nearly bald, pot-bellied man standing beside her, leaning over her, pinning her arms down by leaning on her wrists. A long-haired man with a backward-turned ball cap on knelt on the mattress, his jeans bunched around his ankles, ignoring her thrashing as he tried to rip her panties off her hips.
Starshine shrieked and charged into the room, leaped on the kneeling man"s back, and began to pummel his head with one hand while reaching around to claw at his eyes with the other. The man roared in surprise, then laughed, and with one arm flung her off and against the wall. She hit hard and didn"t move and all Moonbow could think of was that she looked like a broken doll.
Momma didn"t run, didn"t yell.
Moonbow watched, unable to move, as she walked over to the suitcase by the TV, opened it, and reached in.
"Hey, b.i.t.c.h," the second man said with a near toothless grin, "you don"t have to-"
He shut up when he saw the gun.
"d.a.m.nit, b.i.t.c.h," the kneeling man said, then punched Beatrice twice in the face. "Hold still, d.a.m.nit."
"Get off her," Jude ordered calmly, and pulled the hammer back.
The second man blinked stupidly; the kneeling man punched Beatrice again and looked over his shoulder. "Aw, Jesus," he said in disgust, "go to h.e.l.l and wait your turn, huh? I"ll be done in a minute."
Moonbow clamped her hands over her ears when Momma pulled the trigger; she turned away when the kneeling man snapped upright with a strangled gasp and a large red stain spread across his upper back; she leaned against the wall and didn"t move, didn"t make a sound, couldn"t hear anything but shouting and firing and sirens and voices, and one kind voice that kept asking if she were all right, it"s over, don"t worry, hey, kid, hey, are you all right, did he hurt you?
She saw whirling lights that stained the fog red and blue, an ambulance that had backed up to the walk, men in uniform strutting around, people standing like dark ghosts in the fog watching and pointing, a man standing over her putting a blanket around her shoulders, someone on a stretcher covered head to toe with a sheet, Lady Beatrice huddled in the backseat of a police car talking to a lady cop, Starshine on a stretcher, oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.
Momma in handcuffs, taller than the two policemen who led her away.
That"s when she decided she couldn"t take anymore; that"s when she decided it would be better if she went away for a while. Somewhere in the dark where it wasn"t so cold; somewhere in the dark, without any fog.
4.
S.
carlet fire and emerald sparks.
No one is left in the houses around the deep Ozark lake, all the boats pulled up and taken away, or placed high on saw-horses and covered with tarp. Windows are either boarded or shuttered, doors bolted, all tools and playthings locked away for the season. The water is smooth, not a ripple on the surface. The sky high and pale as the moon rises above the mountains. The air sharp and cold, a razor waiting to be used.
Scarlet fire.
Emerald sparks that blur through the sky like comets.
Susan stands at the top of a gra.s.sy slope that leads down to the water, arms folded, chin tucked. Below, Joey stands with Eula on a short dock, the boy excitedly pointing at shooting stars and the old woman nodding, though she"s seen it all before.
There is no wind.
There is no sound.
Until Joey giggles at something Eula has said and runs off the dock, up the slope, and circles Susan three times before stopping, hands on his hips, panting and grinning. Eula follows much more slowly, her head down, white-gloved hands clasped at her stomach, purse dangling from a strap over one wrist.
"I saw a movie today," Joey says, squinting at the stars.
"Did you," Susan says, her tone impatient.
"There were these guys on these really really big horses. They had cloaks and hoods and spears and everything. There was smoke and clouds and they were riding really really slow, and there was all this awful loud music." He scratched his forehead vigorously and frowned. "I think that was supposed to be us, right?"
Eula slipped but didn"t fall.
Susan said, "Yes, they were supposed to be us."
"So how come we don"t look like them, huh?" He looked up at her. "How come, huh? They were neat."
"Don"t matter, child," Eula said, joining them, taking deep breaths, patting the back of a hand across her cheeks and brow. "We are what we are."
"Yeah, but they were neat."
A mountain on the other side of the lake cuts a black hole in the sky, and above the hole, just for a moment, there is scarlet fire and green sparks and the sound of explosions that make the trees tremble.
"It ain"t fair," Joey pouts, standing downslope from the women, hands still on his hips. He uses his chin to point at the mountain. "He"s having all the fun."
"Isn"t," Eula corrects absently. "It isn"t fair."
"That"s what I said."
Susan can"t help it-she shakes her head and laughs, and Eula laughs with her.
"What?" Joey says, demanding. "What did I say that"s so funny, huh? You"re making fun of me again."
"No, child," Eula tells him, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. "No, child, we"re not."
*Then what are we waiting for?" he wants to know. His voice deepens as only a child"s can. "He hurt me. That man hurt me and I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him now."
"Patience," says Susan.
Joey turns and stamps a booted foot. "I"m out of d.a.m.n patience."
Eula straightens.
Joey glares at her for a second before bowing his head. "Sorry."
"Better be."
"I am."
Susan grins. "No, you"re not."
Joey looks up and grins back. "Nope. I"m not."
"But you will be," she says, "if he finds out." And she points to the lake, and Joey turns and moans and backs up slowly.
The great black horse rides easily across the water.
Not a ripple, not a splash.
Scarlet fire drips from its hooves, emerald sparks dance from its nostrils and hit the water and turn to steam that turns to fog that rises and spreads in a slow-rising wind.
Red sits easily in the saddle, hat pulled low, one hand on his thigh, the other holding the reins. His head bobs side to side as if he was singing to himself, and when he reaches the sh.o.r.e, he looks up, and he"s smiling.
Slowly Susan lowers her arms. "Yes?"
Joey runs down the slope and stands to one side so he can pat the horse"s flank while he walks. Red leans over, pulls playfully on the boy"s hat.
"Yes?" Susan asks again.
"I saw us on television," Joey says excitedly. "We had hoods and stuff, and there was lots of neat smoke and stuff, and there was like these big wood things with pointy things on top." The horse stops when Red"s eyes are level with the women"s. "So how come we don"t have those things, Red? How come, huh? Are we gonna get them?"
"Hush, child," Eula scolds.
Joey looks at her as if he"s going to disobey, then mutters, "Yes, ma"am," and spends a few seconds taking care of his hat.
"You feeling better, Miz Korrey?" Red asks the black woman.
"Yes, sir, I am. All healed, all better."
"Good. That"s good. And you, Susan?"