CHAPTER NINETEEN

Chapter Nineteen

The juke box played, “Come Rain or Come Shine” by Margaret Whiting. Yvonne Cheney finished putting her coins in the juke box and moved toward the bar where her coat lay draped over one of the stools.

A fresh drink awaited her. The bar tender pointed to a man at the other end of the bar. He had redneck written on his sunburned face and calloused hands. He wore dark blue work pants, work shirt and black cowboy boots. Yvonne walked up to him and handed him the drink. “Thanks, but I’m through for the night.”

“What? You aren’t even going to listen to the songs you just paid for?” The voice was high pitched for a man; a Peter Laurie voice.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to drink while I listen.”

“Why don’t we both listen?”


 “So long as you know I’m going home alone.”

“Do you have a husband at home?”

“Maybe.” It was her turn to ask a question. “You just passing through?”

“Something like that. I have a renovation job. I’m a carpenter.”

“Tell me about it.”

“This big old spooky house. It used to be a boarding house, house of ill repute, something like that.”

“Almasy House? You have to be kidding.” She took the drink he had purchased for her. “Tell me about it.”

Before they said good night and went their separate ways, they exchanged names. “Walters. Lorretta Walters. Call me Walt.”

Vonnie realized her mistake.

“But you’re dressed like a man, and your hair is so short.”

“I’m a carpenter. They don’t hire many lady carpenters. If they think I’m Walt, I have a better chance of getting a job and keeping it.”

“Where are you staying?” Vonnie asked.

“My car. A hotel is pretty expensive.”

“Come out to my farm. I’ve got room.” “I thought you said you were going home alone.”

“I thought you might be hitting on me.”

“Who says I’m not hitting on you?”




Lisa walked through the Brandt house. It was small; she knew she wouldn’t get a mansion like the one the Rinaldis had lived in, but this house was dumpy. She wouldn’t even be able to keep a dog. It wasn’t fit for a dog house.

Dylan walked her through the house, showing her the bathroom, the utility room, the kitchen, the two bedrooms. He seemed proud of it. You would think he had built the house himself.

She thought it would be a nice house for Emil. After all it was Emil’s fault they couldn’t stay in the other house. Emil disgusted her.

“Fine,” she finally said. Then she could’t help herself. She had to add. “Anything to be away from that dirty old man.”

Dylan had his back to her. He was gazing into a closet. When she called his dad a dirty old man, he whipped around like he had been punched.

Mary rattled off the figures. She and Elsie sat at Emil’s kitchen table doing their once a month audit. The lawyer in Detroit who had set up a family trust had been told only that Emil had inherited some money and made more money by working in the mines and by investing. It was believable. After all, Emil had been one of the top mining engineers in the country.

“Are you listening, Pa?” Mary asked.

Emil was still stunned by Lisa’s accusations and his mind had wandered.

“Sure,” he pulled himself back to the present.

“What gives?” Mary asked. Elsie got up to pour a cup of coffee.

Emil sat silent. He didn’t want to talk about Lisa’s accusation.

“Dad, you have to tell us. Did something happen? Why are Dylan and Lisa moving out?”

Emil tried to change the subject. “What’s the name of that coin shop on Woodward in Detroit? You girls always do well there.”

The girls knew when he was being evasive.

“It has to do with Lisa, doesn’t it,” Mary said.

Elsie shook her head. “Dylan is such a great guy. How does he get mixed up with these losers? Elaine was bad enough.”

“Lisa is ill,” Emil cut his second oldest daughter off.

Elsie agreed. “She’s a mental case. Why did we ever let Dylan marry her?
 “Out with it, Pa.” Mary prodded. “What happened? What’s the trouble with Lisa?”

Emil wasn’t one to cry. He hadn’t cried when his wife died, but he thought about the night Lisa walked down the stairs in her slip and the accusations she made. He found his eyes wet with tears. He slowly told his daughters the story.

“You have to go back to your husband,” Vonnie told her sister. “You belong with Dylan.”

“I don’t love him. I don’t even like him.”

“You need him.”

They were sitting in Vonnie’s kitchen drinking green tea and eating snicker doodle cookies with lots of sugar and cinnamon. Vonnie had picked Lisa up early that day and driven her to the farm.

“We’ll get a divorce,” Lisa decided.

“It’s not that easy,” Vonnie insisted.

“He’s been divorced before.”

“Stop this nonsense. I’m going to drive you home. I don’t want to hear anymore about a divorce or leaving Dylan.”

“Why can’t I stay here? I stayed here before.”


 “Because, just because.” Vonnie said. She wasn’t ready to tell Lisa yet about Walt, the lady carpenter who now stayed at the farm with her.

When the phone rang, Vonnie found it a welcome interruption from Lisa’s childish whining. She reached for the phone. “Jack, great to hear from you.” Vonnie sighed. “One of us needs to talk some sense into Lisa.”

As Vonnie explained Lisa’s unhappiness, Lisa stuck out her tongue at her.

Vonnie smiled because it was such a childish gesture. Her little sister had missed some growing up.

“I’ll talk to her,” Jack promised. “First, I need to talk to you. Almasy House is being restored.”

“I know,” Vonnie said. “I met a carpenter working on the job.”

“The new owners are sparing no expense. The house should be ready in a couple of months.”

“Ready for what?”

“They’re turning it into a bed and breakfast.”

“Who would stay in that spooky old thing?” Vonnie sat down remembering the night when she and her siblings had been taken to Almasy House. She remembered the stern old lady and the room where she and Jack and Lisa had been locked. Memories of Almasy House brought her back to a sad time.

“They’re looking for someone to manage the house. I suggested you.” Jack said.

“What? Who? Who bought the house?”

“It’s s secret,” Jack said.

“I don’t like secrets. Why would they want to hire me?”

“Lucinda and I both put in a good word for you.”

“And I don’t even get to know who I’m working for?”

“The new owners prefer to remain anonymous.”


 “Well I want to know who they are. Jack, it’s not the mob? is it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No one wants to open those old tunnels, do they?”

“No. Vonnie, the house will be practically new. Talk to your carpenter friend. Restoring that old place is costing a lot of money.”

“But the mob isn’t who bought the house?”

“I give you my word.” he said.

Vonnie sat down heavily. “How much are they paying?”

Emil stared at his glass of wine; he swirled and purple liquid about. “I haven’t been inside those tunnels in twenty years,” he said after a moment.

“No one has.” said Jack Brianka.

Jack trusted the older man not to say anything about the visit. As an ex con, he was still bound by the terms of his parole. Of course, he visited his sisters, but no one knew about that. He settled into one of Emil’s oversized easy chairs. He felt comfortable in Emil’s house, and had gotten a warm welcome though Jack knew Lisa had been less than cooperative while living here. Lisa and Dylan had moved out of the house. But that had nothing to do with Jack’s business in Mountain Ridge or his visit to Emil.

He told Emil his client had bought Almasy House and was paying Jack to research any dangers within or underneath the house.

Emil said, “I personally made sure the tunnels that connected with the mines were closed.”

Jack looked confused. “Why connect bootlegging tunnels to the mining tunnels?

“Confusion. With those tunnels, the bootleggers could go to ground at any time. I’m sure they had escape routes.”

“Someone must have known their way around down there.”

Emil shrugged. “The tunnels are a maze. I don’t know if Rose kept maps or not, but I suspect she didn’t. It was easy to add new routes. She could hire different crews for each digging. Some tunnels led nowhere. They were just there to confuse anyone who came looking. Only a fool would explore those tunnels.”

“But you explored?”

“It was my job,” Emil admitted. “Mr. Rinaldi knew she must have been using some of his tunnels. He didn’t like it. Catching her was something else. If we found one of her tunnels, she’s say it was an old mining tunnel. Dozens of tunnels crisscrossed each other under the town. She didn’t have to admit any of them belonged to her.”

“What exactly, did you do?”


 “I knew Mr. Rinaldi’s tunnels and those of the other mine owners. We had maps.”

“Where are those maps now?”

“I don’t rightly know. They’re property of the mines and now that the mines are closed, I just don’t know what happened to the maps.” Emil had his own copies, but he decided not to admit this. “You might ask Lucinda Rinaldi what happened to her dad’s copies”

“So you explored in just the mine tunnels?”

“I didn’t say that. I explored some of Roses’s tunnels. I had notes back then. It’s been a lot of years.”

“Jeff Hollander, you remember him. He used to be a priest in this area. He died about ten or twelve years back when he fell down some stairs at Almasy House.”

Emil snorted. He knew the priest. “What about him?”

“He said he came across the bodies of murdered women down there.” “There might be bones. Treasure hunters go in there or used to go in there.”

“So you don’t think there are bodies of murdered women down there. Maybe the work of a serial killer.”

“Anything’s possible. I just never came across any bodies. I understand the sheriff sent a deputy down to look, and he didn’t find anything.” He paused. “I do remember what looked like manmade tunnel collapsed in one of Rose’s tunnels right after the priest came out with his crazy story. I didn’t think it was worth exploring what might be back there. Too dangerous. And it would be the law’s job, not mine.”

“What about treasure?” Jack asked.

“That’s the thing we want to discourage. There ain’t any treasure down there and anyone going down looking is liable to get lost and die down there.” Emil was sure he himself had taken the whole stash. There were no other stashes. He had looked. He wasn’t sure who the jewelry and old coins he had taken out would belong to, but as far as he was concerned, they were his now. He wondered if he should go back down for one last look. No, he had explored the area close to the house. That’s where Rose kept her treasure.

“Thank you for your time,“ Jack said as he gathered his brief case and prepared to leave. “Please don’t tell anyone I was here.”

“Don’t worry,” Emil said. But now he had a question. “About your sister?”

“Thank you so much for buying Lisa and Dylan that house down the way. I saw it, and it’s a great house.”

“I would have liked for them to stay here, but Lisa… Well, we didn’t get along. I’m sorry for any misunderstanding.”

Jack didn’t know the details, but he knew Lisa well enough to know that if there had been a misunderstanding, it was probably her doing. He wasn’t sure what to say and settled for, “She’s had a rough time.”

Vonnie stood on the sidewalk outside Almasy House. Painters applied fresh coats of paint; ladders rested against the side of the house. Carpenters rushed here and there. Two men carried a white washed board across the lawn. The windows were clean and unbroken. A gardener trimmed the bushes. The house was clearly getting a new look.

Perhaps the old ghosts could be chased away, and the house contain a new energy. She smiled at the thought but wasn’t sure if she believed it.

Did the new owners have an office in town? Who were these new owners?

She was unprepared for who opened the door. “Jack! What are you doing in town? Why didn’t you tell me? You could be staying at the farm.”


 “I heard you had a roommate,“ he winked at her. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“There’s plenty of space. And what do you know about my roommate?”

“To mind my own business and to be happy you’ve found someone.”

How much did she want to tell Jack or anyone else about Walt. There were many who would not understand the relationship, and Vonnie sure didn’t want Walt to lose her job. She must remember that if she spoke about Walt she would use the masculine pronoun.

Walt needed people to think she was a he.

“I’m here for a job interview,” Vonnie said. “Do I meet my employer?”

“You already have the job. No need for an interview. I’m just here to make sure you accept the offer.”

“What is the offer?”

“You manage Almasy House, a bed and breakfast, restaurant and bar. It’ll be the most elegant hotel in Upper Michigan, and the rival of anything in Michigan or Wisconsin. You make all hiring and firing decisions and have complete autonomy.”

“I know nothing about managing any of those things. Hotel. Restaurant. Bar.

“You’ll learn. The owners will send you to training at Northern Michigan University. Tuition, books, room and board all paid for. It’s a one-year program. When you graduate the house will be waiting for you.”

“That’s generous. Why me?”


 “I recommended you. So did Lucinda.”

“How is Lucinda? And the girls. I miss them all so much.”

“They just got back from an around the world cruise. Luxury liners are the thing now.”

“I wish you two hadn’t broken up. I could see her now and then.”

He shrugged. “We’re still friends. The break up was her idea. So what do you say?”

“What’s the salary?”

He handed her a sheet of paper with numbers written in.

“That’s more than I ever made in five years before.”

“You were a maid then; now you get to supervise maids.”

“It says here plus perks. What are those perks?”

“Free health care, and a room here in the mansion. There’s a company vehicle, that you get to drive, so you won’t need your own car.”

“I don’t need a room of my own here.”

“You get an office and a suite of rooms attached to it. You’ll be keeping some late hours, so why not have a bedroom and kitchenette here? Of course, you can always order room service, and as the boss, you get it free.”

“I want to know who I’m working for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Jack.”

“You’d be a fool to turn this down, Vonnie. Take the offer. You can quit anytime.”

“Who owned the house before these new owners took over?” she asked.

“The city had to take it over for back taxes. You know what happened to Jeff Hollander?”

“He supposedly fell down the stairs.” She didn’t want to get into town gossip that maybe Hollander had been pushed to his death by his girlfriend, Elaine Dabb. People said he had been willing to leave the priesthood, but not to marry Elaine.

“Do you think the house’s history will affect its success. Louis Almasy committed suicide here. Jeff Hollander died violently here.” She paused. “A lot of people think Hollander was murdered. That kind of thing can spook some people away. They may not even want to eat or drink here.”

“We’ll see.”

Walt in her man’s work clothes, shirt and tool belt walked Vonnie to the door. “So that’s your brother. He’s nice.”

“Don’t go getting a crush on him,“ Vonnie teased. “He’s not your type.”

When they got outside the house, Vonnie asked, “Who are these mysterious owners?”

“I don’t know. I get my checks every week, and that’s all I care about.”

“We don’t get to know who we’re working for? That’s kind of spooky isn’t it?”

“What are they offering you?”

She handed Walt the envelope with her salary written down.

Walt whistled. “Several times what I make,” Walt said.

“There’s a whole bunch of perks. I don’t think I can refuse.”

“I’ve already got orders to fix up any set of rooms you want, and do it to your specifications.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Walt didn’t answer.

“We’ve been so good for each other out at the farm,” Vonnie said.

“Does that mean we can’t live together anymore?”

Vonnie laughed. “Giving you up would be the deal breaker. You’re staying with me.”

“Then you aren’t taking the job?”

“It says here that I make all hiring and firing decisions. I’ll need a handyman. In this case a handy woman. I hope you want the job.”

Walt grinned. She liked the idea of staying at Almasy House with the new manager.

They heard hammers and the shuffling of workmen. They looked back at the brighter colors, and imagined the house full of new furniture. They could see inside some of the first floor rooms because the windows were bigger than they had been. It sure didn’t look as dark and forbidding as Vonnie remembered it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

Lisa screamed. Vonnie reached for the phone; the line was dead. “Someone must have cut the lines,” she lowered the dead phone.

Lisa whirled toward the window as another hooded figure carrying a flashlight rushed by. Lucinda put her arm around Lisa and tried to quiet her, but Lisa screamed and punched Lucinda.

“No,” Vonnie rushed to help Lucinda quiet the frightened girl.

Another rock sailed through a window.

A gruff voice came from outside. “You, Niggers, get out of there.”

“No,” Lisa cried. “They’’ll hang us if we go outside.”

“Honey, no. Just be quiet. They’ll go away.” Lucinda smoothed Lisa’s hair.

Lisa tried to push her away.

“Hush,” Vonnie told her.

Lisa whimpered and settled to the floor with the other two women holding her between them.

Moments passed. Quiet. “Maybe they went away,” Lucinda whispered.

They all heard a loud crash as a bottle with a lit rag sailed through the window nearest them. It landed at their feet.

Lucinda and Vonnie each grabbed a rug and began slapping at the flames. Lisa cowered, too scared to move. More bottles crashed through the windows.

The three women ran almost blindly to the door. It was the only place to go. They ran into the street. Their clothing was light and hardly thick enough to protect them from the cold night air. Their feet bare. They ran past hooded Klansmen who ignored them but tossed more bottles half filled with amber liquid and stuffed with rags that they had set afire.

Explosions shook the night air. The women huddled at the far side of the street.

“Lucinda, your beautiful house.” Vonnie didn’t know if she said it out loud or not. She thought of all the beautiful treasures still inside that house. Lucinda had pre packed only few things and sent them south.

The women hovered in the shadows behind the line of white sheeted men. They didn’t know what else to do. Where could they go? Lucinda’s and Vonnie’s cars were in the driveway close to the house. One of them was already burning.

Lisa stopped trembling. Then she turned to Lucinda and began pummeling her with her fists. “You brought this on us. You brought this on us.” she screamed.

Vonnie tried to pull her away. “No,” Lisa screamed. “She’s a Negro. We have to protect ourselves. She turned. She wanted to run away, but Leo Olson was there. He caught her by her wrists and held her despite her screams and kicks. “What have we got here?” he asked. “A wild animal.” He pushed her toward a deputy and ordered him to cuff her.

Lisa spent the night in jail. The charge was disturbing the peace. Leo insisted that her screams and disorderly conduct kept him from catching the hooded figures. Most townspeople knew he had probably been one of the hooded figures himself.

Lucinda called an attorney; the Mynters bailed Lisa out.

“What a disgrace,” Mary said when she got into the car with her husband Urban. “She’ll be Dylan’s wife later today.”

Urban had been amused by the story. “Give her a little credit,” he said. “She was attacked. If a bunch of hoodlums start throwing homemade bombs at me, I’m liable to start screaming myself.”

Mary smiled at her husband who had fought in Italy during the war. She knew he had seen some terrible fighting. But this was different. “Those men weren’t going to hurt her.” Mary insisted.

“We don’t know that. Lisa didn’t know that. And they burned the Rinaldi house to the ground. I don’t blame her for screaming.” Urban backed out of the highway.

“Leo should have been more interested in catching the Klansmen.”

Urban nodded agreement. “He says the house burned down when a candle overturned, and the three women were drunk.”

“Well I don’t know what happened there last night,” Mary said to herself as much as to her husband. “I don’t hold with prejudice. You know that. The Rinaldis have done more to help this town than anyone. Any time the historical society needs money, Lucinda writes a check. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Lisa Brianka gave the sheriff reason to arrest her.

Urban smiled. “Let’s go welcome the little jailbird to the family.”

Lucinda spent the night at Vonnie’s farmhouse. The two women sat together sipping coffee.

“I wish you’d change your mind and come to the wedding.”

“I’m leaving town today. Even if…if what happened last night hadn’t happened, I’m leaving.”

“I’m so sorry for the things Lisa said,” Vonnie was near tears.

“She was scared.”

“That doesn’t mean she can scream out anything she wants.”

“That poor child has been through so much. We can’t blame her for…well, anything.”

“She does the strangest things. I sometimes just don’t know. And how will Dylan cope with her. Jack and I can barely do it.” Vonnie took a few deep breaths and stared out the window. “And after last night, and your pretty house…”

“The house is nothing. I don’t know if I could have sold it. Leo might be doing me a favor by writing this off as an accident. Now I get insurance money.”

“Accident? Leo will never get my vote for sheriff. Lisa says she saw him leading the Klan the night our mother died.”

“You know she could have imagined that. She was only five years old.”

“She saw something awful, and I don’t think she makes it up.”

The two women watched the sunrise, and spoke only sparingly.

“At least I won’t have any luggage to cart with me.”

“I have so many of those beautiful dresses you gave me, Lucinda. And no place to wear them. Please take some of them back.”

“I want to go shopping tomorrow. I’ll get everything new. A new life and new clothes. And a new house.”

“You mean Jack’s house?”

“I have my own house in Detroit. I don’t know if I want Jack to take on the two babies. He would, but I won’t ask him.” She sipped coffee from an old cracked cup that Ezekiel had in the house before he married Vonnie. “I broke up with Jack.”

“They don’t look happy,” Mary whispered to Elsie.

“They’re nervous,” Elsie whispered back.

“And that awful green dress,” Alice said. “Where did she get that dress?”

“Shh,” Mary hushed her.

Lillian, Abe’s wife leaned over and whispered. “I offered to make her a nice white dress.”

“She likes the green one.”

“I understand she got it from Lucinda Rinaldi. I mean Mrs. Davies.”

“Mrs. Davies could carry off a dress like that. It just doesn’t work on Lisa. It looks like someone put a fancy dress on a corn cob doll.”

Lisa overheard the Mynter’s conversation, but decided to ignore it. She hated Dylan’s family. Let’s get this wedding over, she thought.

She didn’t want to marry Dylan, but she had no other options. She had no money and now no job; Vonnie was furious with her. She no job now that Lucinda was moving away. She had no money. She couldn’t go to Los Angeles to meet and marry Jon Hall. People thought Dylan was too good for her. She heard lots of whispers. Despite their kindness, the Mynters didn’t like her. They didn’t want Dylan marrying her.

Dylan’s first wife had been that awful Elaine who had worked at the Rinaldi House for awhile. Lisa knew what happened between Dylan and his first wife. Elaine had brought a man home from some tavern. Dylan had caught them in bed together. Elaine was evil.

She had spied and stolen documents from the Rinaldi house, and she had sold the Rinaldi family’s secret.

Elaine was despicable. But Elaine had style. Surely the Mynters didn’t want Elaine back in the family. They didn’t want Lisa in the family either.

Lisa clutched a fist full of wild flowers that one of the Mynters had collected from some vacant lot. She sat in the back of the hall and waited for Dylan.

Dylan smoked a last cigarette before his wedding. From time to time, his dad or one or more of his brothers would come out and chat briefly. Of course, they wondered what was taking him so long.

“Just enjoying the day,” he said.

“You nervous?”

“No.”

Emil put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You can still call this thing off.”

Dylan shook his head no. “That would embarrass Lisa.”

“It might be better than spending the rest of your life with her.”

“I gotta move on with my life,” Dylan said. “Lisa’s a good person.”

“She’s mentality ill,” Emil said. “Are you sure you want to take that on?”

Dylan nodded, tossed the rest of his cigarette aside and turned to walk inside. He had promised to marry this odd, fragile girl, and that is what he would do.

Penny 1970

Mary Mynter Smith sat across from me in the Almasy House restaurant. “We knew Dylan’s marriage was going to be a disaster. We just didn’t know how to stop it. It was like watching an accident happen in slow motion.”

“Was it really all Lisa’s fault?” I asked.

“You know how crazy she is.”

“She needed someone,” I said. “She always needed someone.”

“She’s your problem now,” Mrs. Smith said. True.

1946

It didn’t take Lisa long to move into Emil’s house with Dylan. She had few possessions.

“When are we going to have a house of our own?” she asked.

“This is it,“ Dylan smiled. He was happy he could provide his bride with one of the nicest houses in town “ It’s not a mansion like the Rinaldi’s house was,” he explained. “But it is large. My dad raised ten kids in this house.”

“I was hoping we could move into something smaller. I’m tired of cleaning big houses.”

“Pa and I are pretty neat,” Dylan said. “And Mary comes in from time to time to tidy things up. She doesn’t mind helping us out.”

“I don’t want your sister doing my housework,“ Lisa said.

“Pa and I will keep up our half. Like I said, we’re neat.”

“Does your dad have to live here?”

“Lisa, it’s his house.”

“We should have a house of our own.”

“I can’t afford a house right now. And this house is wonderful. I grew up here.”

“I thought you said you bought this house.”

“I paid my dad a dollar, and he put my name on the lease. It was with the understanding he would live here with us.”

“Maybe your pa could get an apartment.”

“Lisa, this is his house. He owns it.”

“You paid him for it.”

“That dollar was a formality. I can’t ask him to leave.”

“Why not?”

“He’s my dad.”

“I don’t like him.”

Dylan worked nights to earn more money. He knew his dad would help him out, but he thought it was generous of Emil to sign the house over to him; Emil didn’t have to to do that.

Emil had bought the other kids their homes, but it had caused gossip. Where was Emil getting all this money? Anyway Lisa was so fragile; Dylan and his family all felt it would be better if she had Emil now retired to keep an eye on her while Dylan worked.

When Emil made ham and cheese sandwiches with extra mustard and potato salad, Lisa refused to help clean up the kitchen.

“I’m not cleaning up after the old man,“ she told Dylan.

So Dylan helped his pa with the clean up. Mary came over in the evenings and she did some of the cleaning too.

“Where’s that wife of yours?” she asked.

“She’s resting.”

Mary snapped a dish towel. “She doesn’t mind eating Pa’s cooking. Mine either. She just doesn’t like cleaning up.”

“She’s actually a good housekeeper,” Emil stood up for his daughter-in-law. “She has some of these downstairs rooms spic and span.”

“Doing a dish every once in awhile wouldn’t kill her,” Mary said. “The kitchen is where the real clean up work begins.”


 Emil wore an apron. “I want to do more cooking now that I’m retired. You know I make a mean meat loaf. And my mashed potatoes are next to none.”

“That doesn’t mean she can’t help in the kitchen especially doing the clean up.”

“Leave it be,“ Emil warned his daughter.

When college let out for the summer Bill and Ken, Dylan’s younger brothers had jobs at the Ford plant waiting for them. Dylan had arranged the jobs. The problem was they needed a place to stay.

“They’ll stay here, of course.” Dylan said. “It’s their home.”

“And I’m not sending them away,” Emil agreed. “What does your wife say about them staying here?”

“She doesn’t like it.” Dylan confessed. “She thought once they went to college, they would be on their own, and that when we moved in here it would be our house.”

Emil had considered confiding in Dylan about his fortune. But he had hesitated. Mary and Elsie and their spouses knew, but his other children thought he saved and invested. They had no idea how much money Emil had.

“I’ll buy you and Lisa a home,“ he said.

“Pa, I want to stay here. You need someone to take care of you.”

“I can do pretty well on my own.”

“Who’s going to do your housework?”

“Me. Look Dylan, I paid for each of your brothers to go to college, Tuition, room and board. I paid for all the weddings. You and Lisa were the only ones who didn’t have big wedding.”

“Pa, you’ve been too generous. You need to save some money for old age. I haven’t finished paying you back for the house…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. It was the house he had given Elaine in the divorce settlement. It was the price of being rid of her, but he hadn’t really wanted to be rid of her.

“I have enough for my old age. Now the Brandt house is for sale. I’ll buy it. It’s just down the street.”

Dylan told Lisa his dad was buying the Brandt house for them.

“It’s small; it’s dinky. I want to stay here.”

“This is pa’s house.”

“You paid him that dollar. He put your name on the deed. It’s our house now.”

“He wants to live out his remaining years here.”

“He can’t have that long. Dylan he’s what seventy-something.”

“He’s my dad,“ Dylan often felt anger boil up in him when Lisa made cruel remarks. He tried to be patient with her, but now she was talking about waiting for his father to die. “You didn’t mean that. Not the way it sounded.”

Lisa turned away. She pouted.

“What about Ken and Bill?” Dylan asked.

“Do I have a choice? They’re coming.”

“Would you help Pa get a couple extra bedrooms ready?”

“I guess I’m still a maid,”

Ken and Bill didn’t stay with Dylan and Emil. They rented an apartment with some college friends.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dylan told them.

“We’re okay. We can drink all the beer we want and party until dawn. Pa would never let us do that.”

Dylan left at 10:30 for the midnight shift. Lisa left a night light on in the hall and Emil let her do this. He knew she feared the dark.

He enjoyed staying up late with a book. The latest John Byrne book had arrived from his book club, and he was half way through it. Byrnes’ Detroit private detective was as hard-boiled as any tough guy character.

Emil liked the twists and turns of Byrnes novels. As he read, the main detective character stalked a killer and the killer stalked the detective. In his imagination, he followed the detective into a dark house where the stairs creaked and shadows lingered.

Creak. The noise jolted Emil from his novel. He was often nervous at night because of the fortune in old coins and jewelry he still had locked in a room downstairs. Town gossips whispered that Emil was wealthy, so he suspected he would make a great target for a robber.

Creak. The noise came again.

Emil quietly got up and reached into his desk for his revolver.

The house was dark except for his study and the hall light upstairs. Lisa kept a second light on in the bedroom. Those lights should alert any intruder that someone was awake in the house.

Creak. The noise came from the up stairs. Someone was descending. Emil slipped out of his study and aimed the gun at the top of the stairs.

Creak.

Emil tensed with the gun in his fist. Who was up there? What did they want?

A shadow fell on the stairwell, and slowly made its way down one stair at a time.

Lisa slowly descended. She wore only a short thin slip. Her bare legs revealed most of the thigh and the nudity underneath.

She walked down the steps like a Las Vegas show girl. Her head held high like it balanced a crown. Emil let the hand that held the gun fall to his side. He breathed a sigh of relief.

That small sigh awakened Lisa. She saw him standing below her where she imagined he could look up her slip.

A look of pure hatred came over Lisa’s features.

“You filthy old man,” she spit the words out and hurried back up the stairs to her bedroom. Emil heard the lock on her bedroom door slide into place.

He poured himself a scotch and sat at his desk. What should he tell Dylan? Emil had not slept nor had he read anymore that night. He made himself a pot of coffee, and then he ignored the coffee and poured himself some more scotch.

Dylan was not surprised to see his dad waiting for him. Emil often made breakfast for his son and his wife.

“The coffee’s cold,” Emil said, “But I’ll make some more.”

“Pa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Sit down, son. There is something I have to tell you.”

“Is Lisa all right?”

“I don’t think so.”

When Dylan walked upstairs, he found the bedroom door locked. “Lisa open up,” he called.

He waited and called her name again. Finally he heard her footsteps, and he heard the key turning in the lock. He waited a heartbeat and then opened the door. His wife wore a plain green checkered house dress from the Sears catalog.

“What happened? Pa says you had some kind of a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she said with anger.

“What happened?” he repeated.

“I don’t know. I think he drugged me.

“What? Who drugged you?”

“Your dad. He must have put something in my food last night.”

“Lisa, do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“I came awake on the stairs. I was wearing my slip. That’s all. Just my slip and he was staring up at me.”

“You’ve walked in your sleep before.”

“Not anymore. It’s been a long time.”

“Lisa, my dad would never do anything to hurt you.”

“That filthy old man was staring up my slip.”

“He heard you on the stairs. He thought you might be a burglar ”

“I’ll kill him if he does that again.”

Dylan wanted to slap her. Instead, he said. “We’ll move.”


 “Make him move. He’s the problem,”

“I am not kicking him out of his house. I’ll see if I can swing buying the Brandt house myself.”

“I don’t want to live there.” She folded her arms and sat down on the bed.

“We don’t have a lot of choices,” Dylan told her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chapter Sixteen

When Dylan came home, he moved into a bedroom he once shared with his brothers. The bunk beds were still there, but Emil talked about moving them out. The brothers were all back from the war, reunited with wives and sweethearts, looking for jobs or resuming their educations.

Ken and Billy, the two youngest were still at home, but they had their own rooms now. Ken had moved into the larger bedroom once shared by his sisters. Billy had what used to be the older boys’ bedroom. Dylan took the smallest bedroom.

Mary had taken the cribs. Other furniture went to Elsie and her husband. Now if they could just get rid of the bunk beds. Dylan didn’t care about the bunk beds. “It beats sleeping on the ground or in a tent,” he told his dad.

Emil was concerned about his sensitive middle son. He knew the war would have been harder on Dylan than it had been on the others. Life itself was harder for Dylan, and he had never gotten over Elaine. At least he didn’t ask about her. Emil felt the less said about Elaine, the better. He and the other family members were glad she was gone. Though they all hated to see Dylan hurt so much.

“Did Mr. Rinaldi say when I could go back to the mines, Pa?”

“Anytime, as far as Mr. Rinaldi is concerned.”

“Then I’ll start tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Give yourself some time, son.”

“I gotta work.”

“No, you don’t have to work. You need to heal. You had some bad times in the Army.”

“The others are back, and they have jobs or school and families. I don’t have anything.”

“You have us, and you’ll find the right girl.”

“It ain’t finding a girl and that’s not the problem, Pa. I just keep thinking about some of the things I saw in the war.” He inhaled and tried to keep the tears back. “I saw men die.”

“Dylan, no one should have to see the kind of horror you went through.”

“I thought if I just didn’t have to shoot at someone that I’d be all right.”

“You will be all right,“ Emil promised him.

“I’d go out on the field and there were so many boys dying out there. And sometimes, I would pick one of them up and notice his arm or his foot had been lift behind. I saw one boy who had been shot in the eye and it was hanging like a watch fob on his shirt.”

“You need to forget those things. Put them out of your mind.“ Emil said softly.

Dylan didn’t think he could. He couldn’t even forget Elaine. He found some solace in thinking about Elaine. He thought if only she would love him.

The Ford plant was hiring, and it paid slightly more than Mr. Rinaldi could afford. Dylan decided to apply for a job at the plant, and a week later he was hired as a foreman.

He wanted a family life, but compared to Elaine the other girls looked so plain. If only he hadn’t let her go. He knew she was a tramp. There were lots of stories floating around about her. He hadn’t believed those stories at first, but after that night when he had found her in bed with that other man, he had started to believe. His family had disliked her from the beginning, and he knew his sisters were probably right about her. Still he found himself wanting her.

One night at a bar just outside of town, he saw the youngest Brianka girl. He had always felt sorry for Lisa. She had lost her parents when she was so young, and then that sweet little boy had died when she was supposed to be watching him. He knew she had spent time in Newberry, the state mental hospital, and he had written her weekly letters when she was there.

It had been almost a year since he had written to her. When the band took a break and some quiet filled the room, he walked over to talk to her.

They walked outside. The moon was full. The tavern sat on a highway, but it was surrounded by dark pines on three sides. A picnic table sat on the side of the building. They sat bathed in the moonlight. From inside, they could hear the juke box; Doris Day sang “Sentimental Journey”

“How have you been, Lisa?” he asked.

“I miss your letters. I liked them. I saved them.”

“After I got to Europe, there was less time to write. With the war going on, you don’t get to write many letters. The Army was always afraid we were going to tell the enemy something. All we knew was what he had for supper. And that was never anything good.”

“They would have censored your letters,“ she said. “It must have been hard to keep in touch with your family.”

“I managed to get a few letters off to them. I thought you were living with your brother.”

“I came back here. Vonnie needed me to help out. The Rinaldis are entertaining again, and there’s lots of work.”

He didn’t know if she would talk about her time in Newberry. Some people might not like admitting they had been in a mental hospital. “You didn’t like Detroit?”

“I missed Vonnie; now I miss Jack.”

“You seem better. Brighter. You almost glow.”

She didn’t answer.

“Are you here by yourself?”

She nodded.

“How did you get here?”

“I walked. It’s not far.”

“I’ll drive you home,” he said.

Dylan had never thought about dating Lisa Brianka. She was shy and awkward with just about everyone. She was not movie star beautiful like Elaine or Lucinda Rinaldi. Perhaps she would be prettier if she wore make up or fixed herself up.

He found himself wanting to do something to help her.

Instead of a physical attraction, an emotional communication developed between them. They understood each other’s pain. Few others knew the kind of hurt or the memories that these two had faced. They were sensitive people who somehow fit together. And Lisa gradually lost her awkwardness with Dylan. He stopped thinking about Elaine and his war time memories. Lisa and Dylan seemed to be good for each other.

Both had siblings who worried about them. Vonnie worried that Lisa was emotionally too fragile for a romance that could end abruptly. Dylan’s sisters didn’t want him marrying a girl who had been in a mental institution. His dad thought he needed a stronger woman to care for him.

“What do you think of her?” Mary asked Elsie.

“I would have preferred he marry the other sister. If he was going to marry a Brianka.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about the Briankas. They’re a strange family with a strange history.” Mary frowned, and then she added. “I like the Brianka girls, don’t get me wrong,”


 Elsie decided to play the devil’s advocate. “Dylan needs a very understanding wife after all he’s been through. I just don’t think Lisa will work out and…”

“Maybe she will be understanding. She’s been through a lot herself.” Mary was not sold on her brother marrying Lisa Brianka, but would Dylan listen if someone warned him against this marriage? He hadn’t listened the last time.

His sisters had to think this through and be very careful. They did not want another catastrophe like Elaine Dabb.

“My god, that girl was in Newberry. Do you realize we’re welcoming a crazy into our family?” Elsie said after a short silence.

“Who said anything about welcoming?”

“What do you know about Dylan Mynter,” Lucinda asked her dad. They were sitting in the parlor of their home. Lucinda knitted pink scarves for her little girls. Enrico had set aside his newspaper to listen to his daughter’s concerns.

“Dylan Mynter,” Enrico said as he thought out his answer. “He was always a good worker just like his dad. He had some bad war experiences.”

“He was an ambulance driver in the war, right?”

“Yes. And what he saw on the battlefields broke him. I don’t know if there’s a name for it, but lots of ex soldiers suffer incredible stress. It happened after the Great War, and it’s happening again.”

“I know I shouldn’t intrude.” Lucinda began.

“But you are going to intrude, aren’t you?”

“You know how broken Lisa is.”

“I thought Newberry fixed her. She doesn’t seem to have nightmares or walk in her sleep anymore.”

“The doctor gives her sleeping pills to prevent it. He was afraid, she’d hurt herself.”

Enrico put his newspaper down. “I know how much you like the Briankas. Vonnie couldn’t be a better servant, but that is what she is. A servant. And her sister helps out around here. Lisa does a good enough job. You have to stop getting so involved with the help. You’ve got two little girls to care for. Isn’t it enough you adopted Brad’s daughter and you’re raising her like she was your own.”

“Father, what else could I do? I love little Carol Ann.” She paused. How could she make her dad understand? “I love Lisa too.”

“Will she continue working here after she marries Dylan?”

“Dylan says he doesn’t want his wife to work.”

“That settles that. Lisa Brianka is no longer your problem. Not that she ever was. You have to stop thinking you can save everyone, Lucinda.” With that he gave his newspaper a small shake and went back to his reading.

Mountain Ridge News, May 14, 1946 Senator Bradley Davies was killed when the private plane he piloted crashed into a Colorado mountain. The senator had just returned from a ski trip.

The article was short. The reporter in charge of listing surviving family members was unsure if Bradley Davies had one daughter or two. Earlier newspaper accounts varied. Was the daughter’s name Carol Ann or Starr? A friend of Lucinda’s said Mrs. Davies had twins. Another friend said Lucinda adopted a second child after the divorce.

The reporter got no help from the senator’s office or from Enrico Rinaldi’s secretary, who said Lucinda had two daughters, and that he was not at liberty to say anymore. The original birth announcement had mentioned just one daughter, Carol Ann.

Whitney Cummings was tall, blond and handsome. He looked like the western star, Rex Allen, but Cummings was better looking and a multi millionaire. He liked Lucinda the minute he laid eyes on her. But he was in Mountain Ridge to see her dad. Lucinda took his coat.

“I hope you don’t mind if I say you look lovely as usual,” he told her as she escorted him to her dad’s office.

She thanked him as she walked beside him. She admired the clean cut of his clothes, and well-barbered hair. He would make a great matinee idol. Still she did not return his compliment.

Her dad rose to greet him when they entered his study. Soon Cummings was seated opposite her father. “I’ll bring us some tea,” Lucinda said.

“No, I want you to stay. Lucinda,” her father said. “What we have to talk about concerns you too.”

“I’ll just be a minute getting the tea. Vonnie made some lovely cakes.”

“Vonnie can bring them in. Please sit Lucinda.”

Lucinda made herself comfortable on the couch behind Cummings. The visitor swiveled in his chair. “Mrs. Davies, please sit here at the desk with us. I love nothing better than the view of a beautiful woman.”

“Please call me Lucinda” she said. She didn’t want to explain that she had changed her last name back to that of her father’s name. She wanted nothing from Brad. And now that he was dead, her lawyers were dealing with the estate, and confused about the presence of two daughters, when the senator’s office had announced the birth of just one. The will said nothing about either daughter.

“I knew your late husband,” Whitney said. “In fact, I visited your home in Washington once or twice. I don’t think you remember me, but I remember that you were without a doubt the loveliest hostess in Washington.”

“I remember,” Lucinda said simply. She didn’t want to be reminded of Brad. She didn’t want condolences for the death of a man she despised. She simply nodded and waited for her father to begin his business.

“I have your offer for the mine,” Enrico said simply. “It is very generous. You know of course, most of the ore has run out. We’ve reached a level where it is no longer profitable to keep digging.”

“So, I understand,” Whitney agreed.

“May I then ask why your generous offer to purchase the mine?”


 “Tourism. We can offer mine tours. Just the top levels, of course.”

“People would go on tours of an iron ore mine?”

“Absolutely. We can sell souvenirs. I even thought about turning Almasy House into a bed and breakfast.”

Lucinda glanced at her father. Clearly he did not think the mines would bring tourism. People came north for the forests, the hunting, the fishing and the boating.

Cummings recognized their skepticism and was undeterred. “I assure you the tourists come up north each summer anyway. They spend money. Mine tours would also be popular with engineering students. In fact, we could train engineers right here. You have a unique community including some of the deepest mines in the world.”

Lucinda and her father were silent. A knock came on the door; a moment later Vonnie served tea and small carrot cakes. She had perfected the recipe.

After Vonnie left, Whitney continued. “A submarine would be crushed at the depths of some of those mines. Some are flooded. Chapin Pit, for instance looks more like a lake than a mine pit.”

“Chapin Pit? No one knows how deep it is,” Enrico explained. “Emil Mynter, my engineer, had two of his sons dive down there. They did not reach the bottom, and they were down there as long as their tanks and their comfort level allowed.”

Cummings wasn’t interested in detail. “We could make this the biggest tourist town in Michigan, if not in the entire country. Imagine if we rigged a water gusher to Chapin pit. We could shine colored lights around it. Have midnight tours around the pit. Only we will call it a lake, of course.”

Lucinda and her dad stayed politely unimpressed. Others had tried to turn Mountain Ridge into a tourist attraction. While the area had summer and even fall and winter visitors, Northern Michigan tourism had not caught on yet.

“I can’t guarantee any of those ideas will work,” Enrico said after a minute.

“But my offer still stands. You take the money. If my scheme fails, then I have a used up mine.”

“What about the workers?” Lucinda asked. “What will happen to them?”

“Tourism offers jobs. I would hire your workers first. At most they would be unemployed for a few months. But most likely I can put them right to work. I’m going to need builders almost right away.”

“We’re accepting your offer.” Enrico decided.

“Father, shouldn’t we think about this?”

The two men rose to shake hands. Whitney promised he could have the check ready within the hour.

“Let’s meet with the lawyers tomorrow,“ Enrico said. “We can close then.” He rose to escort his guest to the door.

Whitney turned to Lucinda. “How about a celebratory dinner? Just you and me tonight at my hotel dining room.”

Lucinda looked surprised. She didn’t know what to say.

“I realize you’re in mourning for your husband,” he said gently.

“It’s not that,” Lucinda said. “Brad and I were separated for years before he died. It’s just that we have to think about the miners and their families.”

“We can talk about that tonight.”

“All right,” she said finally.

“I’ll send a car for you,” Whitney promised.

Whitney donated over $100,000 for a relief fund that would provide free clothing and food for the families whose breadwinners would be out of work for a short duration. Whatever was left over would go for medical care and retirement funds.

His lawyers did a good job of setting up the fund and in closing the sale of Enrico’s mines.

Lucinda discovered Whitney was interested in more than the welfare of those miners. He was still curious about her. “If I might ask if you ever plan to move back to Washington?”

“This is my home,” she replied.

“May I be frank with you?” He sipped his coffee and watched her carefully.

“Of course,” she answered suddenly nervous.

“We all have secrets,” he said.

Where was this leading? Did he know about her relationship with Jack Brianka? Did he know she was Black?

She sat thoughtfully. When several moments had passed, and he had said no more, she simply said, “Yes, I suppose we do all have secrets.”

“No one need know about the girls,” he said.

“What?”

He laughed. “My darling, I don’t know what other secrets you hold. But I was talking about your daughters. They clearly are not twins. They don’t even look like sisters.”

She was slightly relieved. But what did he know about the girls, or about her marriage?

“It is a private matter,” she said. How dare he think he was privy to her personal information. But then again all her secrets were personal. She was a Negro woman with an ex convict lover. And then there was her disastrous marriage and the two girls who were three months apart in age. She could not possibly be the biological mother of both. She could not even give them both birthday parties.

“Secret affairs are not unusual in Washington,” Whitney went on.

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“Carol is clearly Brad’s child. I can see it in her features. Starr is yours. It’s decent of you to raise your husband’s love child.”

She stared at her plate.

“There were rumors,” he said. Washington is a small town where some secrets are hard to keep.” After a minute, he added, “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’d like to keep seeing you.” She blinked away a tear, and she said, “I don’t know about that.”

He raised his glass, “Here’s to the future,” he said.

Dylan told Lisa he wanted a wife and a family.

“Everyone should have a family.” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without Vonnie and Jack.”

“Don’t you want a husband and kids?”

“Sure.”

They were seated in his car at the edge of town waiting for the Fourth of July fireworks to begin. They had gotten there early and watched as other cars pulled up and took their places. Some drivers and their passengers listened to the music on the car radios. Somewhere close by Frankie Laine sang, “A Little on the Lonely Side.”

“Lisa, we’ve both been through some hard times. I think we’re different than most others. I think we feel things on a different level.”

She nodded. How could she tell him how she felt, that there are things she couldn’t forget, that she kept feeling the hurt over and over. She tried to explain.

“I know what that’s like,” he admitted. “There are things I saw on the battlefields that keep popping up in my mind. I can’t forget them.”

“But the drugs don’t help. Sure they make me forget, but I think I am supposed to remember.”

“Lisa, maybe we could get married. We could maybe help each other cope better with the things that have happened to us.”

She moved her head up and down.

“You have to say ‘yes’ you can’t just bob your head,” he laughed. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

The Mynters sat in the kitchen at Emil’s house. Mary had been tabulating rows of figures. She gave her dad the results. “We still have some coins and jewelry to cash in. Certainly money was not an issue in the family.

“We can give Dylan a big wedding.”

“Mary looked at her dad over her glasses. “He’s marrying a Brianka.”

“So what?”

“No one will come to the wedding. You know what people think of the Briankas.”

“No, I don’t. What do people think?”

“The brother’s a jailbird. No way he can come to the wedding if we hold it here. He’s not allowed in the Upper Peninsula. Vonnie Cheney had a kid out of wedlock. And Lisa spent some time in Newberry. Dad, what will people think?”

“I don’t care what people think. This Lisa seems like a nice enough girl.”

“You don’t go to Newberry unless you’re crazy. And they didn’t release her. Her brother, the jailbird, got her out because he disagreed with some treatment.”

“Let’s be charitable. And stop referring to her brother as the jailbird. Lot’s of people think he was innocent and railroaded.”

“Dad,” Mary said, “Jack Brianka is mobbed up. He’s a member of the Detroit mob. Everyone knows that. And we can’t let Dylan get involved with anything like that.”

“I don’t believe it,” Emil said.

“Believe it. He’s got a mansion in Detroit and a new car every year.”

“You can’t believe everything people tell you. And people gossip about us too. They think I robbed Fort Knox or something. They know I got more money than I let on.”

“It’s nobody’s business,” Elsie said.

Mary didn’t feel like arguing. “It will be a small wedding. This is Dylan’s second marriage after all. And this Lisa is very shy. She won’t feel comfortable around too many people. We might be pushing her comfort level with just our family. You’ve got ten kids, you know, Pa.”

Emil agreed. He didn’t think the Briankas would want a large wedding. From what he had heard of Lisa, she could not handle the stress well. But that didn’t mean she would not make a good wife. Did it?

CHAPTER 15

Chapter Fifteen

Mountain Ridge, Michigan

June 1942

Dear Lisa;

I am not sure if you remember me. We met at Ezekiel’s funeral. I sometimes bought corn, cucumbers, tomatoes and eggs from you. My older sisters, Elsie and Mary, are the busiest busy bodies in town. My younger sister, Alice, does her share of getting into everyone’s business too. She will be married in the spring if her fiancé can get a furlough. They were planning the wedding, and then the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor.

I don’t know if you want me to write to you or not. If not, just say so, or throw away the letters. But if you would like, I can keep you up to date on Mountain Ridge news.

That Indian girl, Danni is going to become a doctor. She is studying at Michigan State. Imagine a lady doctor. Imagine an Indian doctor? But she is smart. She will make a great doctor. My pa and I already said we wouldn’t mind going to her. Dr. Tracie is getting up in age. Someone has to take over. Doc’s son is at Michigan State too. Maybe we will have two doctors here in town. Young Dr. Tracie and Dancing Bear. Wouldn’t that be something?

Do you need anything? Cigarettes? Candy? Newspapers? They’re starting to ration, but dad and I don’t need much. Dennis is doing such a great job on the Cheney farm that he could feed the entire county.

Please write if you have a mind to. Otherwise it’s okay. Dad and I are working extra shifts at the mine, so if I don’t answer right away, it is not because I do not want to.

Dylan Mynter

Dear Dylan:

Of course, I remember you. You and your dad and your sisters and your entire family were always so nice.

Please do not go out your way for me. My brother brings me books and candy. There is this great mystery writer, John Byrnes. Have you heard of him? Jack gets a copy of his books as soon as they come out, and he brings me copies. I love his writing. Jack brings me other books too. I have enough reading material. If you haven’t read Byrnes yet, I can send you copies of his books when I finish reading them.

I work for a few hours each day in the laundry, but I tend to be very tired. The pills they give me help me sleep. I no longer have nightmares, but I get so tired.

Lisa

Dear Lisa:

I know you said I should not go out of my way, but Vonnie said she thought it would be okay if I visited. I’ll be driving to Marquette, to check out a problem Mr. Rinaldi is having shipping the ore. It would be no problem to stop by and see how you are doing.

Dylan

Dear Dylan;

Please do not come. It’s not that I would not like to see you. I would. But like I said, I am always so tired, and I am not a good conversationalist. I don’t know what to say to anyone. I would be very nervous to have a visitor other than Jack and Vonnie.

Lisa

Jack asked Dancing Bear if she could meet him at the Red Swan for supper in Detroit. “This place is beautiful,” she said after they were seated.

He agreed. This was his favorite restaurant. “Almasy House in its day was elegant, but it couldn’t match a place like this.”

She laughed, “I didn't get to see Almasy House in its prime. Anyway I don’t think Indians would have been allowed inside. Did you know they had Klan meetings there?”

“Yes, I heard that jack said. It’s probably true. Almasy House was before my time too, but my sisters and I got to stay there once. It was the night my mother died. We stayed a few days after that.”

“That must have been so awful for you.”

“It wasn’t a good time.” He sipped his wine. “How are the studies going?”

“Good. I can be a doctor eventually. Or a nurse.”

“A nurse?”

“In case you didn’t notice I am a woman and an Indian. Nobody is going to go to a woman doctor, much less an Indian one.”

“Well, I would. And if I had you, I’d have the best.”

A waiter came and freshened their wine glasses. Jack said, “Rumor has it you visit home every break you get, and that you and Dennis Cheney are more than just good friends.”

“My home is in Mountain Ridge. My family lives there. I like Dennis a lot. I can’t see being a farmer’s wife and a doctor though. Maybe I should change my major to veterinary medicine.”

“Do what you think will make you happy,” he said.

“How’s Lisa?” Dancing Bear asked.

“That is what I want to talk to you about. She had a bad nightmare the first night she was there.”

“She’s still in Newberry then.”

“They’ve been drugging her. “ Jack unfolded a sheet of paper from his pocket and slid it across the table to her. As she read the list of drugs Lisa was taking, Dancing sighed.

Their food arrived. Lobster bathed in a buttery sauce; green beans cooked with slivered almonds sprinkled with lemon; and garlic mashed potatoes. “Does this restaurant know there’s a war on?” Danni asked.

Jack nodded at the list of drugs. “What do you think?”

“I am not a doctor yet; I am not her doctor; I have not examined her.” “I know. But I also know Lisa used to be such an intelligent girl. She knew about politics; she could discuss Roosevelt’s policies; poetry, history. She read lots and she is very smart. Now she just yawns when I visit her. She can barely make it through a John Byrnes novel.”

“What about her traumas? The nightmares? Lisa’s been through so much.”

“It’s no reason for those doctors to turn her into a zombie.”

“I can’t go to war with her doctors. You know that.”

“Tell me what you think,” Jack asked. “It’s just between us.”

“Those drugs are a powerful cocktail. If I were treating her, I would give her something a lot less powerful. But remember I’m not a doctor yet, and I am a long way from becoming one.”

Again Jack nodded. “I talked to her doctors. I suggested taking her here to Detroit to live with me. That would be one alternative. Vonnie still has that house near Dennis’ farm and she says Lisa could live there again. But after what happened there…” Jack didn’t finish the sentence.

“She probably should have someone with her. I’m not sure if the farmhouse is a good choice for her, especially if she’ll be alone.”

“The doctors suggested an operation. They call it a lobotomy.”

Danny stopped eating. She knew of this operation. “Did they explain this operation to you?”

“Yes; they said it was safe.”

“Some of the medical literature does suggest that it’s safe.”

“What about the rest of the medical literature?”

“A lot of these surgeries are being done.” She paused staring at a clamp of mashed potatoes on her fork. She had observed such an operation just weeks ago, and it had not gone well. Danni didn’t hesitate. “If it were my sister, Jack, I wouldn’t let her have the operation, and I would get her out of there right away. Sometimes they get a confused patient to consent. And if Lisa is a ward of the state…”

“She isn’t. I’m paying for her hospitalization.”

“If you think you and Vonnie can care for her yourselves, you should do it. But it may not be easy.”

Dear Lisa;

I have been drafted. My dad and Mr. Rinaldi tried very hard to keep me from the army. It is not that I am a coward. I keep thinking about how many Americans died at Pearl Harbor. I keep thinking about how many are dying in Europe and in the Pacific. But I just don’t think I can take a gun and shoot someone. I can’t imagine myself doing that.

I report for basic duty next week.

Maybe I will go to Europe. I wonder what Paris is really like. Perhaps my letters will get better. I’ll have more interesting things to say.

If you want to keep writing to me, send the letters to my my dad. He will make sure they get through.

Dylan

Dear Dylan;

I am so sorry to hear you will be leaving for the war; I know you didn’t want to be drafted. I am not sure our paths will cross again.

Jack signed me out of Newberry, and he took me to live with him in Detroit. I visited Jack’s office. It’s in the Penobscot Building, which is one of the highest buildings in Detroit. He’s a consultant, but I didn’t meet any of his clients.

“What do you consult about?” I asked.

“Crime,” he told me. “The police ask for my help sometimes.” “And they pay you? Jack, that almost makes you a cop.”

“It makes me an ex-con who has some useful connections,” he answered.

That made me sad because Jack should never have gone to prison. He shouldn’t be an ex-con.

Jack gave me a copy of John Byrnes latest book. It’s not even in the bookstores yet, but Jack says Byrnes is one of his clients. I would love to meet John Byrnes, and I told Jack that. But Jack said that Byrnes is a recluse and doesn’t like to meet strangers. There aren’t even any pictures of him on the book jackets.

I don’t have enough to do. I clean Jack’s house - Boy was it messy, and I cleaned his office which was neater because he has a cleaning lady who comes in once a week.

Jack has all of the Agatha Christie, Earle Stanley Garner and John Byrnes books. He has quite a few other titles too. Of course, I had already read many of the books. Jack and I like the same authors.

I am feeling so much better now that I’m not taking all those drugs. Jack keeps a night light on and he keeps his bedroom door open, so I don’t get scared at night. But I miss Vonnie. She drives downstate sometimes. Lucinda Rinaldi even came to visit.

Carol Ann Davies, the senator’s other daughter, was two years old when she came to live with the Rinaldis.

It was Vonnie who met the child and her companion at the railroad station. The woman hung onto the child. She didn’t want to let go. And Vonnie knew this was the mother. She and Lucinda had expected a maid to deliver the child.

“Her name is Carol Ann,” the woman said.

“I know; we read about her birth in the newspapers.”

“Are you Mrs. Davies?” the woman asked. “Because if you are, I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have…”

Vonnie motioned for her to stop, “ I’m just a maid; I’m Yvonne Cheney, and Lucinda prefers her maiden name. Rinaldi.”

“Of course.”

The child clung to her mother. “You must go with this lady now.”

Vonnie saw the love between the child and her mother. And she knew how awful it was to lose a child. She had lost Little Louis, and the memory hurt her terribly. “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you giving up Carol Ann?”

“I can’t keep her. I have this cancer and I don’t know if I can beat it. I’m going to the hospital.”

“But Brad…”

“He doesn’t want her. After Lucinda left him, he started thinking about another wife. And that wife wasn’t me.”

Vonnie didn’t know what to say. She knew how miserable Lucinda had been during her marriage. “When you get out of the hospital…”

“I can’t keep her,” the woman said. And she hurried away without a backward glance.

Carol Ann, screamed ,“Mama.”

Vonnie held her close.

Dear Mary:

Please share this letter with dad and the family. I only have time to write one letter.

They wake us up at five a.m. and march us five miles before breakfast. That’s the easy part of my day. They say no one flunks basic training. I think I might be the first.

Rifle practice. I like the part about standing up straight and moving the gun from shoulder to shoulder and center. It seems like a big waste of energy, but I do it. I like the salutes and neatly-made bunkbeds and polished shoes. But I am awful at gunnery practice. I can’t hit the target. In fact, I scare the instructors who are afraid I will shoot myself in the foot or worse, shoot someone else. But I can’t hit anything. I should be embarrassed by my target shooting scores.

Still they are not letting me out of this army. The sergeant called me in and said I was clearly not cut out to be a fighting man.

Instead I am going to start training with the Red Cross. I’ll be an ambulance driver. That’s not a profession that I would have picked for myself. The iron ore mines are deep and scary, but so is picking up soldiers who are half dead on a battle field. I don’t mind helping the wounded. I just wonder how much help I’ll be.

I hope the war ends, and not just for my sake. I think about the hundreds of thousands who are dying, and I just want this madness to be over.

I won’t be able to write you much after we ship out. My letters will be censored then. Maybe I can tell you generally where I will be. Europe or Africa or the Pacific, but most likely I won’t be more specific than that. I am told my letters might have holes cut in them by the censors.

Tell Dad I think about him often. Please send news about home. How is Elaine doing? What about that nice Brianka girl? The last I heard she was living in Detroit. I wasn’t sure of her brother’s address, so I sent a letter care of Jack Brianka at the Penobscot Building. He has an office there.

Do you believe all that gossip about him being part of the Mafia? I know he was in prison, but I don’t think he is a bad sort. Do you?

Give my love to all.

Dylan

The little girls, Carol Ann and Starr, slept with Lucinda, so there was little for Vonnie to do in the mornings. There would be more to do in the afternoon. She got up and started breakfast. She could clean the kitchen today. The rooms were easy to keep clean, but there were so many rooms.

Lucinda walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Something smells heavenly,” she said.

“Blueberry pancakes. The syrup is off the farm. Dennis brought me a new keg yesterday afternoon.”

“Bless him.” Lucinda poured cream and sugar into her coffee.

“How are the babies?” Vonnie asked.

“Sleeping. They usually sleep in the mornings. It’s around midnight when they want to be up and out of their cribs.”

“They seem to get along. Just like sisters.”

“That’s how I intend to raise them,” Lucinda said. “Where is your helper?”

“She’s not here.” Vonnie didn’t want the new girl, Elaine Mynter, to lose her job, but she was not a good worker. In fact, Elaine was never around when there was any work to be done. She would pose in front of a bathroom mirror, trying on different make-up and admiring her pretty face and body.

“We’re going to have to let her go,” Lucinda said.

Vonnie didn’t say anything. If Elaine Dabb Mynter lost her job, it would not be because of anything Vonnie said.

“You don’t know anyone who could come here and work with you, do you?”

Vonnie didn’t get a chance to answer. At that moment, Elaine hurried through the door. She made no apologies for being late. “Is Mr. Rinaldi up yet?” she asked.

Vonnie and Lucinda shared a glance. The girl had been openly flirting with Enrico and he had let Lucinda know he didn’t like it.

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago to help get breakfast ready.’ Lucinda said.

“I’ll serve,” Elaine decided. “Just as soon as Mr. Rinaldi is ready.” With that she hurried into the bathroom to fix her hair.

“She seems to have a romantic interest in my father,” Lucinda said.

Vonnie folded a dish towel and looked away.

“He told me to fire her.” Lucinda said.

Vonnie was vacuuming when news came that the president was dead. Lucinda rushed into the room. “It can’t be,” she said. “It just can’t be.” The two women hugged, and cried. The babies started crying too.

“The war must have taken a lot out of him.” Lucinda said.

“It’s been what? Four years? This war just can’t go on much longer.”

Jack drove Lisa north to help Vonnie.

Lisa was glad things had not changed much at the Rinaldi mansion. She would work with Vonnie, and she decided she would not be nervous like she used to be. She was even surprised Mr. Rinaldi allowed her to come back.

The sisters kept up with the war news by listening to the radio and reading the newspaper everyday.

They read the lists of local boys killed. Thank heavens none of the Mynter boys were on those lists. Lisa didn’t know many people, but she had met most of the the Mynters, and they were always nice to her. Dylan Mynter had even written to her until he got sent to Europe or Africa or wherever the army sent him. He said to get news from his dad, and that he would write again when he could.

One August day Vonnie picked up the newspaper after Mr. Rinaldi was finished with it.

A terrible bomb had dropped on Hiroshima, and the city had been destroyed. Vonnie remembered Pearl Harbor. The Japanese had picked this fight, but imagine a bomb so terrible, it would destroy an entire city. She thought about the people living there.

What had they thought when they heard the news of Pearl Harbor? Did they know this war would destroy them and everything around them? The innocent died with the guilty. Vonnie thought about the babies and, dogs and cats. She thought about the trees, and the flowers. Everything had been destroyed. Those poor people, she thought.

President Truman had made the decision to drop this bomb.

Vonnie was so haunted by the news of the terrible new bomb that she carried her sadness with her to the grocery store.

She saw Mary Mynter Smith, Dylan’s sister, shopping across the aisle. The two women both had their ration books out. “Maybe we’ll be able to buy silk stockings again,” Mary said.

“You think the war is really over?” Vonnie could hardly believe it.

“I hear the Japanese are surrendering right now.”

“Your brothers. How are they doing?”

“They should all be coming home. We were lucky. We didn’t lose anyone.”

“I’m so happy for you and your family. Dylan wrote such nice letters to Lisa when she was in Newberry.”

“How is Lisa?”

“Jack signed her out of the hospital. They really weren’t doing much other than sedating her. She lived with Jack in Detroit for awhile. But she wanted to come back here. We’ve been staying with the Rinaldis. It made sense with gas rationing and everything. She’s working with me”

Mary smiled. “If you don’t mind my asking, what ever happened with Elaine?”

Vonnie hesitated. She didn’t like to speak ill of anyone.

“It’s okay;” Mary prompted. “Elaine is not my favorite person. You know she was married to my brother, Dylan.”

“I heard they got a divorce.”

“Thank heavens we got that witch out of the family.”

“She didn’t work out at the house either. Lucinda had to fire her.”

“Did she think Enrico Rinaldi was going to be her next husband?”

“She flirted with him, which he didn’t like. She’s even younger that Lucinda. But she just wasn’t doing the work, and I needed some help. We have two babies there now.”

That puzzled Mary. “Did Lucinda have twins?”

Again Vonnie hesitated. She knew Mary wasn’t trying to pry or gossip. “Yes, Lucinda has twins.” It was true. The girls would be raised as if they were indeed twin sisters. But one girl was blue eyed and had hair the color of summer wheat; the other had black hair and eyes like Lucinda. They didn’t look like sisters.

CHAPTER FOUTEEN

Chapter Fourteen

1970 Almasy House

Audrey and I usually ate our lunch at eleven. She had a ham sandwich and an apple. I traded her my banana for her Twinkie and a bag of pretzels. I had a lettuce salad dressed up with red onion, tomatoes, cucumber and a vinaigrette dressing.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “If Vonnie’s son’s death was ruled an accident thirty some years ago, why change it to homicide now.”

“Because Miles wants to cause trouble. The Brianka’s aren’t well-liked in this town.”

“Vonnie’s a successful business woman. She’s the best.”

“But she was expecting a baby before she had a husband. No one believes little Louis was old Ezekiel’s son.”

“It’s nobody’s business.”

“Jack was in prison, and Lisa’s crazy. People still see the Briankas as different.”

“Aren’t we all?” she said. “I mean how do they define different?”

I bit into a pretzel. This town has a twisted history, I thought.

Lisa: The Jail

Lisa’s second night in jail. Again the lights went off just when she needed them most. She was sure the hanged man from last night - most likely a stuffed scarecrow - had been planted. And the seaweed. Where had that come from? Her jailers were practical jokers. The were bullies. But that didn’t lesson her fear.

She took deep breaths, closed her eyes. tried not to imagine herself in a dark place.

She fell asleep. She awoke to water sounds. It sounded like someone was running water. Running water wasn’t scary. But she thought of the creek and little Louis’ last moments. How terrified he must have been.

A falsetto voice cried out, “Auntie. Auntie. Help me. Where are you, Auntie?”

Lisa put her hands over her ears. Someone was trying to scare her. Then came the sound of wet footsteps.

She screamed.

In the hall way Miles wanted to giggle. He sloshed back to his office, took off the wet boots and hid them in the closet.

1941

When Miles got back from patrol he went to his dad’s office and poured himself a cup of coffee. “We gotta check on the brother. See if he had anything to do with this. Mean thing to lock your sister in a John and then take off.”

“Mean thing for anyone to do,” his dad told him. “But Jack Brianka doesn’t come to the Upper Peninsula. Part of his sentencing and his pardon.”

“Don’t mean he don’t come. If I catch him…”

“You will do nothing but report back to me. Leave Jack Brianka alone. That family’s had enough heartbreak.”

“I tell you, he’s the one that done it.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I checked and Jack’s got a good alibi.”

“Sleeping with Rinaldi’s daughter.” Miles was so upset he spilled some of his coffee. “What that pretty one, rich and a senator’s wife, sees in that tramp, I’ ll never know. Want me to double check that so-called alibi.”

“I want you to mind your own business. I told you Jack wasn’t here, and he didn’t do this one.”

“Maybe that crazy gal is lying. She goes in there and claws at the boards like a wild animal and…”

“Go over to the Watson residence. They claim someone’s been stealing their chickens.”

“Soon as you tell me about this great alibi Johnny Brianka has.”

Leo put his pen down and thought had for a minute. “You know Ben Fuller?”

“Captain. State Police. Ole Jack got himself in more trouble. I shoulda known it.”

“Actually Jack is helping the state guys. You know there’s a killer operating in the state. We got missing girls. Some bodies have shown up. Showin’ up all the time. But we think there are more”

“Jack always was top of my list of suspects.”

“Well he is not on Fuller’s list of suspects. Fuller thinks it’s one of his guys.”

Miles spilled more of his coffee. “No way,” he said. They couldn’t be on Sonny’s trail, and if they were, Sonny was bound to implicate him.

Leo said, “Jack knows lots of people, cops and mobsters and ex cons. Fuller thought he could help. He’s been talking to Jack. That’s where Jack was when…”

“Big help that jailbird will be.” Miles set his cup down and hurried out. He had to warn Sonny. If the cops had a theory about a cop being the killer, then he and Sonny could be in trouble.

What a joke. Jack Brianka helping the state cops.

That night Jack stayed at the Cheney farm.

He brought whiskey with him and while Vonnie rested, he poured himself a drink and took out extra glasses for Dancing Bear and Dennis. “Someone killed that little boy,” he said.

Mary and Elsie were busy in Emil’s kitchen making pies. They had just come home from Milwaukee where they sold more of the jewelry and coins Emil had found. The first thing they had done when they got home was go shopping for flour and sugar and baking supplies. Each sister kept a large garden in her backyard and soon they would be canning for the winter. They also had pies to make.

They had heard about the latest tragedy at the store.

Back home in their pa’s kitchen, the sisters blinked tears from their eyes. “That poor little boy,” Mary said as she wiped her face with her apron.

“We have to do something for that Cheney girl. Making pies just won’t be enough.”

“There has to be something. She’s a Brianka. you know.”

Elsie nodded. “The brother can’t come north. He’s had some trouble with the law, and they don’t want him in the Upper Peninsula.”

“And the sister is odd. Dylan said talking to her was like talking to a child.”

“But Yvonne - I think that is her name…”

“Yes, that’s the older sister. The one who just lost that baby. Yvonne. They call her Vonnie.”

“She’s a maid for the Rinaldis. In fact, she seems to be Lucinda Rinaldi Davies’ best friend. Lucinda will help her. The Rinaldi’s are good people. If I needed a job, I’d want to work for them.”

“Pa worked for them. He got a nice retirement bonus.”

“Half the town works in Rinaldi’s mines.”

“I wonder…” Elsie said.

“What are you scheming?” Mary asked.

“Dylan needs a wife, and Vonnie’s such a sweet girl.”

“But she had a kid out of wedlock. People don’t forget things like that.” Mary wasn’t going to let her brother get sucked into another bad marriage.

“Who cares what people think?”

“Dylan needs a special wife; he’s a special guy. If he wasn’t my brother, and I wasn’t already married, I’d marry Dylan.” There was silence for awhile, and then Mary added, “Vonnie has an ex-con brother and a crazy sister. We can’t let Dylan get involved with that.”

“But we have to help her. That poor dear just lost her husband who was more like a father to her and now. And now she’s lost her baby. It’s more than anyone can bear.…”

The sisters sat in silence for awhile. Each wondering what she could do to help. Wondering what the Mynter family could do to help.

The problem of finding Dylan a good wife was set aside for now.

Lisa sat with Dr. Tracie and Vonnie. He talked about Newberry, the State Mental Hospital. “It has a great staff. She’ll get the best possible care.”

“We grew up in an orphanage.” Vonnie began. She knew how much Lisa had hated the orphanage, and to institutionalize her again seemed cruel. “I can’t send her back to a place like that.”

“This will be different,” Tracie assured her.

“How?”

“Her problems can be addressed by professionals who know how to deal with the types of problems that Lisa has.”

“But she was doing so well on the farm.” Even as she said it, Vonnie realized Lisa really had not been doing that well on the farm. And now after the ordeal of losing Little Louis, Vonnie just didn’t know what to do.

She hurt so much herself after losing her baby and her husband, she doubted her ability to cope with Lisa anymore, and Jack was living downstate now.

Vonnie wanted to throw her hands in the air and scream. Instead she turned to Lisa. “What do you want to do?”

Lisa didn’t answer.

After awhile Dr. Tracie said, “Lisa, no one will hurt you at Newberry. Some of the people there will have problems similar to yours. You can make friends.” After a minute, Lisa nodded. She turned to Vonnie. “I’ll go.”

Danni drove the sisters to the gates of Newberry, toured the mental hospital with them and then waited at the gate while the sisters said good bye.

When Vonnie came back to the car, Danni drove her home.

“I understand you’re leaving us too,” Vonnie said.

“I’m going to Michigan State. I think I’ll become a nurse.”

“You know as much as any doctor.”

“No one wants an Indian doctor.”

“I’m surprised you don’t stay and marry Dennis,” Vonnie said. “He has quite a crush on you.”

Danni laughed. She liked Dennis as much as Dennis liked her.

Lisa knew Vonnie had to leave her. The nurse showed her the kitchen, dining area and recreational areas that visitors like Vonnie and Danni were not shown. “This is the women’s wing,” the nurse explained.

Lisa nodded.

The buildings were so large, Lisa knew she would get lost. But there were lots of people around. Lisa didn’t know how to talk to new people. But these people weren’t as rich or as pretty as Lucinda and or as sophisticated as Mr. Rinaldi. They were more like people she could relate to - maybe.

“Do you have any questions?” the nurse asked.

“Do you have a library? I like to read.”

“Tell us what books you might be interested in, and someone can go to the public library. We have a few residents who are readers. In fact, she led Lisa to a small sitting room where stacks of books stood. “Will this get you started?”

“Yes, ma-am.” Lisa had an Agatha Christie novel in her suitcase and Jack had promised to send her a John Bynes novel. Still she sat down and selected two books she thought she might like. “May I borrow these?”

She settled down in an over stuffed chair in the recreation area. Some of the other woman moved around her. They didn’t seem to know how to approach the newcomer. Lisa’s face was buried in a book. Didn’t that mean she didn’t want to be disturbed?

The other patients whispered. Where did this new girl come from? Someone said she drowned her nephew.

Lisa was having a tough time getting into the book; she closed her eyes and saw the inside of the outhouse all dark and cold. She heard men’s voices and the little boy’s giggles that turned to screams. She remembered her own screams. The dark scared her. It always scared her. But she had been afraid for little Louis too. And then she remembered another dark place. The yard of the house she used to live in. Rough men dragging her dad up a ladder and then… and then…

“Don’t hurt him.” She must have said it out loud.

“It ain’t all that bad,” someone said. Lisa opened her eyes and saw a thin girl in a shapeless housedress. “We get fed. No matter how bad things get outside, we always get three square meals a day.” the girl giggled. “Did you ever see a square meal?”

“No,” Lisa admitted.

“We all have jobs here. You can make crafts to sell in the gift shop, or you can work in the kitchen or the laundry. Ain’t many of us get out of working. What you going to do?”

“I guess I’ll go to the laundry tomorrow,” Lisa said.

“Icky. I’d rather clean the toilets or dig ditches.” The woman sat down across from Lisa.

Other women moved about the room. They were restless.

“So what do we do besides work?” Lisa asked.

“You talk to doctors. Special doctors who want to know what happens inside your mind.”

“Okay,” Lisa nodded. She didn’t know if she wanted to talk to anyone, not about the things she saw sometimes in her head. The ladder. The rope. The dark stinky outhouse.

“Don’t let her see,” Pa said.

Little Louis screamed.

Lisa closed her eyes to shut out the memories.

Someone asked. “Why did you drown your nephew?”

“Line up,” the voice came from a heavy set woman who marched into the room like a storm trooper. Lisa had not seen her before.

“Night nurse.” said her companion. “Time for our pills.”

The other women lined up, and then one by one they were called forward. Small round cups held individual medicines for each patient. Lisa obediently stepped forward when her name was called. The nurse handed her the cup. “Swallow,’ she commanded.

Lisa wanted to gag. There were five pills in her cup and she had never swallowed that many pills all at one time before.

Then the nurse handed her a small cup of water. “Drink.”

Lisa obeyed.

“Good girl. Now open your mouth, so I can make sure you swallowed all the pills.”

What were those pills supposed to do? Lisa wanted to read for another hour. Instead she and the others were ordered into bed. The women all obeyed.

Lisa did get a room to herself. But she couldn’t control the lights. The lights went off and the room was plunged in total darkness. Lisa tried to cope with her fear. Think about something else, she told herself.

She remembered the happy little boy with chubby cheeks.

She heard the plop of the board against the outhouse door. The darkness, the voices, and the hours of waiting. Louis. Little Louis. “Let me out. Let me out.”

She had not seen the body after Dennis pulled it from the creek. Poor little Louis. She should have found a way to escape. She should have found a way to save him. Her finger tips were still red and sore from clawing at the door.

She began sobbing. She closed her eyes tight. More noises from memory came to her imagination. This time the memory came from further back. A ladder was pushed aside. It fell over with a sudden sound. Her father with the rope twisted around his head. She could not control her sobs, and then she could not control her screams.

The lights came back on.

Penny, 1970

I visit Louis Cheney’s grave sometimes. I always felt sad for him. I have never even seen him. He died many years before I was born. I know Vonnie has pictures, but she doesn’t have them in her office or at the farm. She must keep them in her room at Almasy house.

On Memorial Day and on his birth and death days, I put flowers on his grave.

I never bought the theory that his death was an accidental drowning.

Louis was in his playpen. He couldn’t get out without help. Lisa was locked in the outhouse. Whoever locked her up, picked the baby up and carried him to the stream.

I had a good idea who that someone might be.

That morning with Lisa still in jail, I put some wild flowers on the grave. When I looked up Leo was at the churchyard gate watching me.

I walked toward him.”What’s up?” I asked.

“We got some reports of vandalism here in the cemetery. Some tombstones knocked over.”

“You going to arrest me?” I asked. “I ain’t a cop anymore.”

Why did he keep reminding me of that? Why was he watching me when I went to the cemetery?

1941

Danni and Dr. Tracie helped Lucinda deliver deliver a healthy baby girl.

Enrico waited in the parlor.

Finally Vonnie brought the baby out to meet her grandfather.

“Lucinda says her name is Starr ”

The grandfather nodded. Tears filled his eyes as he took hold of the little bundle.

“Should I help you write the announcement?” Vonnie asked.

Enrico’s smile disappeared. “Actually the senator already announced the birth of his daughter, Carol Ann. We won’t announce the birth of a second baby. There’ll be too many questions.”

When Lucinda and her dad came home from church, Vonnie was organizing the Christmas decorations. Lucinda found her weeping.

“This must be hard for you.” Lucinda said throwing her arms around her maid.

“I lost them both,” Vonnie sobbed. “First Ezekiel and then Little Louis. and Lisa’s gone now too. I couldn’t wait for Christmas. I had all these gifts planned for Little Louis, and I wanted…”

Lucinda just let her friend sob for awhile. “We can get somebody else to help you with the cleaning,” she decided. “I can decorate and take care of Starr.”

“No. I want to do it. I always loved Christmas. I still imagine Little Louis here sometimes.”

“I know you do, and that’s okay.”

Vonnie smiled thinly through her tears. “ I’ll bet his spirit visits us often. Just the other day I couldn’t find my thimble, and I thought his little ghost must have taken it.” She paused. “I don’t want to be crazy like Lisa.”

Lucinda shook her gently. “Lisa, is not crazy. She’s just sensitive, and think of all she’s been through. What you’ve all been through. Losing your parents that way. And now…” Lucinda did not finish her sentence. After awhile she said, “Let’s go downstairs and have a cup of tea.”

Vonnie turned to the sleeping baby beside her.

“Starr will be fine. Don’t worry. We can leave her.”

Vonnie still paused. She couldn’t bear another loss, and this baby was so small and defenseless just like her little one had been.

Lucinda gently urged Vonnie toward the stairs. “And we’re going to get you help. Taking care of the baby and the house is too much for one or even two women.”

“I can do it,” Vonnie said as they made their way down the steps.

“You do. But it’s too much, and you need more rest.”

“The work gets my mind off things. And I don’t mind taking care of Starr. She’s a good baby.”

Lucinda insisted that Vonnie sit while she made the the tea. Vonnie sat in the parlor where Lucnda had directed her. “Soon Enrico joined her, “How are you doing?” he asked. “Is your sister doing okay?”

“She’s settling in, but..”


 “What?”

“They increased the drugs she’s on. I worry about that.”

“She’s got good doctors. She’ll be fine,” he assured her.

Lucinda returned with a silver tea pot and white china cups and delicate saucers. They sat in silence for a minute. Vonnie’s finger traced the pattern of the tiny flowers on the cups. She had always liked this design.

Vonnie should have taken the day off, but after they had their tea, she vacuumed instead . Lucinda settled in the parlor with an Agatha Christie novel. In the middle of the afternoon, Vonnie grabbed some sewing she intended to work on.

“Let’s listen to the radio,” Enrico suggested. “See what Roosevelt is up this week.” He walked over and turned on the dial.

Instead of the president, a group of singers sang, “JELL-O.” And then, “We interrupt this program to bring an important announcement. The Japanese this morning attacked Pearl Harbor by air.”

“Pearl Harbor,” Vonnie was at first confused. “Is that in Hawaii? Don’t we have bases there and our fleet?”

“We do,” Lucinda said. She remembered Brad talking about the ships stationed there.

“It means we’re at war,” Enrico said.

Dylan’s two older brothers Joe and Abe joined the Army Engineers.

Louis had graduated college, but decided to become a doctor. He was ready for medical school when the war started. His pre-med training had not been extensive, but it was enough to get him a commission as a medic. Eddie hadn’t enough training in anything, but the Army Air Corps looked good. He went to St. Louis and started taking flying lessons from another Upper Peninsula native, Mario Fontana. Ken and Bill were too young to serve.

“Save some Japs for us,” they yelled to Eddie as he boarded the train that would take him to St. Louis.

Dylan alone had not signed up for the service, but he knew he would be drafted. He talked to Emil. “I don’t think I can kill anyone, Pa.”

“I think you gotta belong to a certain religion to get a deferment. It’s called being a conscientious objector.”

“I guess that’s what I am. I don’t know about joining no religion. I just don’t want to shoot anyone.” Dylan almost cried at the thought.

“I’ll talk to Mr. Rinaldi . Maybe he can get you off. You‘re needed at the mine. We need a new foreman, and I already suggested you to Mr. Rinaldi.”

Dylan nodded.

Things got busier in the mines with the war effort. Dylan found himself working double shifts. Old timers, came back to the mines. The men told Dylan he reminded them of sons or even grand sons who were away fighting.

Dylan didn’t see Elaine anymore. He had heard that she had wanted a job working for the Rinaldis, but Lucinda had hired someone else. Too bad for Elaine. Dylan suspected she wanted to catch a rich husband and Enrico Rinaldi probably looked promising. Dylan had met the full time Rinaldi maid, Vonnie Brianka Cheney several times and he liked her. His sisters liked her too, but worried about him getting involved with the wrong woman. Mrs. Cheney had what Mary called a checkered past with a ex convict brother, a crazy sister and a baby conceived out of wedlock.

Dylan’s sisters needn’t have worried. He wasn’t ready for another marriage and suspected Vonnie wasn’t ready yet either.

Dylan still loved Elaine. She was beautiful, and he prayed someday Elaine would see him for his great qualities and come back to him.

They would live happily on his salary, and his sisters would eventually see her inner goodness and come to love her as he did. It was a daydream. But it was all he had. He would always love Elaine.

Sometimes he thought about that other Brianka girl; the one who had lived out on the farm for awhile. She was in Newberry now. It was too bad because he thought she was an intelligent and pretty girl. But he knew she had suffered greatly. She and her siblings had been orphaned young. Dylan had lost his own mother when he was still in his teens, and it had hurt deeply though he had been almost an adult then. He had heard Lisa was just five years old when she lost her parents.

And then to lose that little boy like that. From what he had heard she had taken good care of Louis. He remembered how good she had been with the little boy when he helped her get the child ready for Ezekiel’s funeral. How awful. He decided to write to her in Newberry.