CHAPTER TWENTY

Chapter Twenty

Vonnie stopped to see how Lisa was doing getting her new house ready. She knew Lisa didn’t like to be alone. She didn’t like being with Dylan either. He had taken an extra job loading trucks to make extra money to pay his dad back for the house.

Lisa sat in front of the radio humming to herself.

“Hey, I thought you were so busy.”

“I got tired.” Lisa admitted.

“This house should not be too difficult to keep up. It’s small.”

“Too small,” Lisa said. “Make me some coffee?”

“You could make it yourself,” Vonnie told her. “After all, this is your house.”

“I’m tired.”

“Okay,” Vonnie got up and poured some A&P coffee into the pot. She added cold water.

“I’m gaining weight,” Lisa said. She played with the front of her dress “Nothing fits anymore.”

“You need to get more exercise. And leave the Fig Newtons alone,” Vonnie glanced at a package of cookies on the counter.

“Those are Dylan’s cookies. They make me nauseous. I can’t believe I’m gaining weight. I’ve been sick every morning.”

Vonnie had been half listening as she made a tray of crackers, cheese and cucumber slices. Then she looked at her sister. “Honey, when is the last time you had a period?”

“Not for awhile. Do you think I‘m sick? Maybe I have cancer.”

“I don’t think so, honey. But you need to see a doctor.”

“Vonnie, I don’t want to have a baby.”

Vonnie took the job at Almasy House. She wasn’t sure how much money Dylan and Lisa had. They had just purchased a house with Emil’s help. Now there was a baby on the way. Could Lisa care for a baby by herself?

She had been good with little Louis until… Vonnie thought about her son often, but always with great sorrow. She never discussed what happened with anyone, not even Walt.

Lisa had not been with any small children since that awful day. Vonnie could never predict Lisa’s reaction to anything. She had no doubt Dylan would make a great father. She just hoped he could manage Lisa and a baby. She would need to hire maids for Almasy House. Lisa could do some of that work. It would be extra money for her and for Dylan. Maybe if Lisa kept busy, she wouldn’t be so difficult to get along with.

The restored Almasy house would need a nursery. Some of the people who stayed there would have children, so a playroom would be ideal She could add a few cribs. She must ask Jack about the wisdom of adding facilities for children. Would the new owners allow that?

Even though Vonnie had been guaranteed full autonomy, she still liked to check her decisions; so she did that by calling Jack.

The bed and breakfast wouldn’t be just for vacationing couples? Weren’t lots of people having children now? She had read an article about something called the Baby Boom in one of the women’s magazines.

Vonnie walked the hallways of Almasy House. She checked on all the work and was disappointed that no secret passages were found and no treasure. She found an ancient desk in one of the rooms. An old timer who was assisting the carpenters said, it had been Rose Almasy’s desk. Vonnie cleaned it herself and had it brought to her new office. She would have a kitchen and a bedroom there at the house. She chose the suite that had once belonged to Rose Almasy. The old woman had died in those rooms, but Vonnie had no fear of ghosts.

She would welcome the ghosts of her late parents and her child if only she could be with them again.

“We can fix you a larger apartment,” Walt told her.

“Remember I have my own home,” she said.

“But you’ll be working long hours. Staying here will be like staying at a hotel,” Walt winked at her. Wherever Vonnie stayed, Walt would be staying too. Vonnie had already hired Walt as chief of maintenance. But Walt had become more than that. Maybe she could make Walt an assistant with a bigger salary. She had already increased Walt’s salary, and knew Walt was worth every penny.

“I don’t want to be anything more than handyman,” Walt assured her.

Some people in town now knew Walt was a woman and a special friend of Vonnie’s. They could only speculate how deep that friendship went.

Vonnie was glad she didn’t always have to be so careful with pronouns anymore.

Penny 1970

Bev poured my coffee at the Yorkie Cafe and said it was on the house if I had news of Lisa.

“She’s getting out of jail tomorrow,” I said.

“Not good enough. You’ll have to pay.”

“Okay,” I said. “What I need is a word with the cook.”

So long as you don’t give anyone else the scoop.” She turned to the kitchen. “Elaine, someone here to talk to you.”

Elaine is fifty-something now and she showed every year. Her hair is gray, her face lined; her body carried too much weight. She frowned when she saw me. I wasn’t someone she’d want to talk with. “What do you want?” she asked. She sat on the stool beside me, grateful for a chance to take some of that weight off her legs.

“Thought you’d want to know. One of the reporters is asking about Jeff Hollander.”


 “Let him ask. You didn’t tell him to come see me, did you?”

“No, but someone else might. I thought I’d give you advance warning.”

Bev brought her a cup of coffee “Guess I’ll take a break,” Elaine said. “What did he want to know about Jeff?”

“Why there aren’t pictures of him in Almasy House. Wasn’t he part of the history?”

“Not a good part,” Elaine said.

“In case he talks to you, I thought I’d give you a chance to decide what you’re gonna say.”

“I was underage, and the good priest took advantage. Well, that’s not fair. I knew what I was doing.”

“You wanted a better life People say he was handsome, and there was a Depression. You can’t be blamed for…”

“And he was ready to dump me,” Elaine said, “I knew that. I didn’t push him down those stairs though. I wasn’t there when - when it happened.”

“I believe you.” I said.

“Someone pushed him though. I saw his body; it had been bashed in. It was like he’d been hit several times with a heavy board or something. Who would do that? I keep asking myself that. Why?”

“It was right after he said he found bodies of murdered women in one of the tunnels.”

“You think it had something to do with that?”

I got up to leave. She put her hand on my arm. “Do you ever see Lucinda? Tell her I’m sorry.”

“I don’t see Lucinda,” That part was true. I saw Jack, but if I ever mentioned Elaine he might throw me down the cellar stairs at Almasy House. “We don’t want the past drudged up,” I said.

1947

Lisa and Dylan’s baby was born in the middle of a snow storm. They had settled on Dr. Tracie and the hospital at the last minute, and that was partly because there was no way to get to Danni and the farm. Danni was married to Dennis now, and often out of reach in Michigan blizzards. Dylan wanted the baby born in a hospital.

Huge mirrors hung above the delivery room table. A dozen stainless steel instruments offered mirror-like images. Lisa kept her eyes closed, but she did look up just as the baby slid out from under the hospital gown she wore.

The baby had a tail that Dr. Tracie immediately cut off. Lisa and the nurse both saw the procedure and heard the baby scream when the knife cut off its tail.

Lisa started screamed too. It wasn’t the pain even though that was bad enough. She had just given birth to a little devil. She wouldn’t hold the baby, a little girl she and Dylan had named Dorothy.

Lisa turned unresponsive after the birth. “Kill it,’ she told Dr. Tracie. “ You have to kill it.”

“You have a healthy baby girl,” he assured her.

“Take it away, I don’t want it,” she whined. “It’s devil. My dad had hooves and horns.” The nuns had told her this at the orphanage. She hadn't believed them, but now her baby had a tail. “Does it have feet or hooves?” she asked one of the nurses. Sometimes Lisa would be quiet for long periods. Once she screamed, “This is Emil’s fault. He raped me.”

Dylan was rattled by the accusation.

Dr. Tracie suggested sending Lisa back to Newberry.

Dylan shook his head.

Vonnie talked to Dylan in the waiting room. “What Lisa needs is to keep busy. And I’m hiring maids.”

“But I need her at home. Who will take care of Dorothy?”

“I was hoping one of your sisters or sisters-in-law.”

“I want my wife to take care of our baby.”

“Lisa was so good with my baby.” Vonnie remembered. “Little Louis loved her.”

“I don’t know why she can’t care for a baby of her own.” Dylan wanted to care for his wife, but she was difficult. His family had talked to him about another divorce, but he couldn’t go through that again. “Lisa needs me,” he said.

“She should never have had this baby.” Vonnie sat down heavily in the hospital waiting room and began crying.

Dylan hated seeing a woman cry, and Vonnie was such a good person and so good with Lisa when she had her moods.

“I’ll ask Lillain,” he said knowing his brother’s wife had only one child of her own and liked to care for youngsters. Marry and Elsie were always off on shopping trips to Detroit or more recently New York and Boston. Lillian took care of their children. “Pa could do it too. But Lisa doesn’t like my pa.”

“Lisa’s confused. She doesn’t know what she wants or what she likes.”

Soon the town gossips were talking abut the child born with a tail.

“Dr. Tracie swore it wasn’t true.”

“The mother’s crazy. No one could deny that.

Lisa took a job helping Vonnie at Almasy House.

“Keep the baby away from me,” she moaned if anyone suggested she hold her child.

“Why?” Vonnie asked her. She held Dorothy in her arms, and gently rocked her.

“Remember how in the orphanage they said our dad had hoofed feet?”

“You didn’t believe that.”

“She had a tail; Dr. Tracie cut it off.”

“No,” Vonnie said. “You imagined that. You were drugged. I remember how it was when I had Little Louis. The pain is so bad, you get confused.”

“It’s true. There’s a scar on Dorothy’s butt. I can see where he cut off the tail.”

“Please stop talking about this.” Vonnie was angry now “You know this town never forgets anything bad about us.”

“It’s because of Emil. He raped me that night. He’s the devil, and he raped me and his child was born with a tail.”

Vonnie gave up arguing with her sister.

Local civic groups were quick to want the restored Almasy House as a meeting place. Both the local Democrats and the local Republicans reserved rooms for monthly meetings. Vonnie agreed to accept an “I Like Ike” sticker, but said she would place it on her farm house door. She couldn’t take sides at Almasy House. But if anyone asked, she admitted that she did like Ike Eisenhower and would vote for him in November.

The house was a remarkable success. Newlyweds honeymooned at Almasy House. Older couples and families vacationed. One large Detroit family reserved all the rooms one October for a huge family reunion. Wedding receptions and birthday parties dotted the calendar.

With clean windows and bright-colored paint, the house no longer looked spooky.

Most nights and weekends local clubs of one type or another had meetings there. The Latter Day Saints even had church services there on Sunday. They were saving to build a church, but in the meanwhile, they used Almasy House.

Vonnie had not guessed she would be so busy, but Walt was a big help. They seldom went to the farm anymore. Instead Dennis took care of the animals, and even rented Vonnie’s fields.

Dylan would drop Dorothy off at his sister-in-law Lillian’s house and then drop his wife off at work.

“That daughter of yours is so pretty. When are you going to start taking an interest in her?” Vonnie asked Lisa.

“She’s a brat. She screams all night.”

“She’s a baby.”

“She’s a brat.”

“Little Louis used to keep me up nights sometimes too. How I wish I still had him.“

Ike Eisenhower was in his first term of office when Dorothy started school.

Almasy House was closer to the school than Dylan’s or Lillian’s house, so Dylan brought his wife to work in the mornings and brought Dorothy along. Vonnie would walk Dorothy to school because Lisa said she was busy. She wouldn’t even touch her daughter.

“Auntie, the kids say, I’m a monkey.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Mama believes it.”

“Your mama gets confused sometimes.”

“I got a scar on my butt. Are you sure I wasn’t born with a tail?”

“Of course, you weren’t born with a tail.”

“The other kids say I was. They’re mean.”

Vonnie stopped walking, squatted there on the sidewalk and took her niece into her arms and hugged her.

Dorothy started crying, “They’re real mean.”

“I know they are, Honey.”

Penny 1970

Sometimes people ask me what happened to Dorothy. We used be close friends. If she went away, wouldn’t she tell me where she was going?

“I wish you’d tell me what happened with Dorothy,” Mary Mynter Smith said one day on the museum.

“She’s your niece. You mean you don’t know?”

“We worry about her.”

“Lots of people disappear,” I said. “Did you know Rose Almasy had a daughter.”

“That’s what they say. I can’t find any record of her in the town birth records.”

Things get lost. Just like people.

1954

For Christmas that year Dylan bought his daughter a doll that was as big as she was. Dorothy named the doll Penny after the department store. He also bought his family a television set.

“It’s like a radio,” the salesman said. “With a picture.”

In the store, Lisa, Dorothy and Dylan watched as Hopalong Cassidy drew his pistols. Dorothy loved the horses that stood tied to a railing in the street. Lisa loved William Boyd, the actor who played Hopalong Cassidy. How she wished she had a beautiful husband like William Boyd instead of stupid Dylan.

Dorothy clung to her daddy and watched with glee. “I like cowboys,” she said.

Dylan loved seeing the awe on the faces of his wife and daughter. “What do you say? Should we buy one?” he asked his wife.

It was his daughter who answered, “Yes, Daddy, yes.”

“She’ll be spoiled.” Lisa said.

“Some of the kids at her school already have television sets,” Dylan told Lisa.

“Pretty soon every household in America is going to have a TV,” the salesman said confidently.

He showed them a magazine called “TV Guide” with Loretta Young’s picture on the cover.

Lisa loved movie magazines; this book was small, but it had a picture of this pretty actress on the cover. “She’s so pretty,” Lisa said.

“I’ll throw in the magazine absolutely free,” the salesman promised. Then to Lisa he said, “Loretta Young has her own show. Yes, siree. Every Sunday night. There’s all kinds of great movie stars on television now. Robert Montgomery has his own show and so do Jackie Gleason and Mickey Rooney. And my favorite is on every Monday. My wife and I never miss ‘I Love Lucy.’ Lucille Ball is hilarious. Wait until you get a chance to watch.” He glanced down at Dorothy. “And you’ll like Roy Rogers, little lady.”

“Who?” Dorothy asked.

“He’s a cowboy, just like that one.” He pointed to the screen where Hopalong was still holding a gun in each hand.

Lisa thumbed through the “TV Guide” at least a dozen times before the television was delivered. She had viewing plans for every night.

She knew two channels, 5 and 11 came out of Green Bay, Wisconsin, and channel 6 came out of Marquette, Michigan. She would be able to get all three major networks, so they could watch almost anything listed in “TV Guide.” Most areas of the country weren’t that lucky. They might get one or two channels and one network.

The first time she turned the television on, she got a test pattern. She knew that would go away at two p.m. when the stations started broadcasting. First there was local news and weather and a midget named Uncle Tom hosted a children’s program out of Marquette.

Dylan thought one day he would drive Dorothy to Marquette, and she would be a guest on Uncle Tom’s program. Tom always had an audience of children in the studio with him, and the station advertised for kids to come down and be part of the show. Uncle Tom would interview the children.

“She’ll embarrass us,” Lisa said.

Television allowed Lisa to indulge in her crush on actor Jon Hall. Every weekday Channel 6 showed reruns of his television program, “Ramar of the Jungle.” It had been cancelled, but she could watch these reruns.

She imagined life as Jon Hall’s wife. She would wear evening gowns every night, and she would have pretty children. Dorothy frightened her. She was such a plain looking child. What had Dr. Tracie done with that tail?

Real life scared Lisa. A father hung; a nephew drowned; a child born with a tail. Was Dorothy her punishment for not taking good enough care of Little Louis? She still heard the child scream in her nightmares.

But television was always great. Scary things always went away quickly. The scene changed; commercials promised shiny hair like that of a Break girl and spotless appliances in the kitchen.

Dorothy loved “The Mickey Mouse Club.” Lisa was sure she couldn’t stand to hear another one of those awful songs, and Dorothy marched around the house doing the show’s dances and singing the show’s songs. Lisa decided she had to find a way to turn off the set when that program was on.

Maybe she could unplug the set and say that it was broken.

1957

Jack invited Lisa’s family and Vonnie to Detroit. He was getting married, and he wanted them to meet his wife.

“Who is she? What’s her name? Blond, brunette or redhead? What’s she like?” Vonnie wanted to know.

“Wait until you meet her?” Jack had said. They would have a small wedding at his home in Detroit.

“I hope she’s not a gold digger,” Lisa said when she heard. “Jack has lots and lots of money.”

Dorothy hated school. The school lunches tasted crappy. She had no one to play with. The kids called her monkey because her mother had said she was born with a tail, and that story had circulated all over town. During winter months, students had to stay outside at recess time. Dorothy shivered and huddled in a corner of the building. The other kids played around her. No one invited her to join them.

Then a new girl, Penelope Jane Payton moved to town. Penelope had scabs on both of knees that she sat and picked them in class. She had unruly brown hair, freckles and glasses that seemed almost too big for her face.

Dorothy disliked meeting new people because it was only a matter of time before they found out she had a crazy mom, and that she had been born with a tail. She was sitting by herself at recess when Penelope came up to her. “So how was Oz?”

“What?”

“You’re Dorothy. What was it like on the Yellow Brick Road? What’s the scarecrow really like?”

Dorothy shrugged. Was this girl making fun of her?

“I’m Penny. I won’t offer you a penny for your thoughts. Most people don’t have interesting thoughts. Thoughts aren’t worth a penny. How much do you think your thoughts are worth?”

“I don’t know,” Dorothy said.

“What do you know?”

Dorothy didn’t answer. Penny looked like someone who would offer her friendship and then take it away.

“What do you like to do?” Penny asked. “We could go on the swings. No one else is on them now.” Penny was a talker.

Dorothy nodded and then followed Penny to the swings.

After school Dorothy and Penny walked home together.

“Tell me a secret,“ Penny said.

“I don’t have any.”

“Everyone has secrets. I’ll tell you mine. I have a crush on Kookie.”

“You mean Edd Byrnes.” Dorothy laughed and said, Byrnes was the star of a hit television program, “77 Sunset Strip,” and his trademark was the comb. He talked Kookie talk, calling all older men “dad” and he kept combing his hair. Lots of the little girls in their class loved Kookie.

“I bet you love him a lot too,” Penny said.

Dorothy shook her head. “I like Robert Horton on ‘Wagon Train’.”

“He is cool,” Penny said. The girls both nodded.

When they came to Mary Mynter Smith’s house they paused. “Let’s go inside,” Penny said.

“Nobody’s home.” Dorothy said.

“That is the best time to go inside.”

“She keeps the door locked,” Dorothy told her friend. “Mama says she’s afraid of being robbed.”

“Who wants to rob her? Anyway I just want to look inside.”

They walked up to the front door. Locked.

“I told you so,” Dorothy said.

They walked around back. The door was locked there too. Penny started trying to raise some windows.

It was Dorothy who found the basement window unlocked. She didn’t really think Penny would go inside, but Penny slid down into the basement.

“You better come out,“ Dorothy called. “You’ll get caught.”

“She’s at work for at least another hour. I’ve watched her car come and go.”

“Please come out,” Dorothy begged. Then she squeezed her body through the window and she was downstairs with Penny. “What are we doing here anyway?”

“Looking for stuff.”

“You aren’t going to steal anything. Tell me you aren’t going to steal anything.”

“Oh, shut up. I just want to look.”

They moved up the basement steps and into the kitchen. “ Nice appliances,” Penny said. “And expensive.”

“They’re new. Mama says Daddy’s relatives always have lots of money. Everyone in the family has money except her and daddy.”

“Family?”

“She’s my aunt,” Dorothy admitted.

“I forgot your last name is Mynter. You just don’t seem as stuck up as the rest of them.”

“Mama doesn’t like Daddy’s family.”

“Why not?”


 “Like you said, they’re snooty.”

“I said stuck up. It’s different.”

Dorothy didn’t see how it was different, but she followed Penny through the house. They opened drawers and looked at bills and records and check books.

One closet door was locked. “We have to come back and get in here,” Penny said.

“No way, I’m not breaking in again.”

“She’s your aunt. You’re not breaking and entering.”

The girls heard a car in the driveway and dived for the basement steps.

“Who is your new friend?” Dylan asked Dorothy that night after supper.

“Her name is Penny.”

Lisa said, “You know she got caught shoplifting at Pancheri’s store.”

“No. She wouldn’t do that.”

“You keep chumming with that one, and you’re going to get into trouble, girl.” Lisa scolded.

“If she’s a shop lifter, you should stay away from her,” Dylan advised his daughter.

A week later, Mary drove to her dad’s house to make sure he didn’t need anything. Something puzzled her.

“Pa, remember that notebook.”

“What notebook?”

“The one I keep my figures in.” It’s missing. I think someone took it”

“That old notebook ain’t worth anything. You probably just misplaced it.”

“It’s gone. Someone’s been going through my closet, Pa.”

Emil shrugged. “Why would someone steal that old notebook? You misplaced it.”

The next day Mary and Elsie bought safety deposit boxes and brought the remainder of Emil’s stash to the bank in grocery bags.

Lisa went though the Sears catalog twice looking for a gift for Jack and his new bride. It was hard not knowing his fiancé. What were her tastes like? Was she a poor waitress or doctor’s daughter? Was she younger than Jack? Probably, but how much younger? Lisa knew nothing about Jacks fiancé, not even the girl’s name.


 “He said not to bring gifts,“ Dylan reminded her. “We’re working class people with a daughter to support. That brother of yours is as rich as Rockefeller.”

“I want to give him a wedding gift.” Lisa insisted. “He’s my brother. And he gave us a thousand dollars when we got married.”

“And I thanked him. We just can’t match his generosity.”

Detroit was 500 miles south, but not so far south that there would not be lots of ice and snow and cold. Lisa finished packing. Dylan gassed the car up and checked the tires. He then sipped coffee at the kitchen table.

Vonnie brought over fresh baked items, fruit and coffee from Almasy House. “Walt’ll take care of things until we get back.” she said.

“What a terrible time for a wedding,” Lisa said.

“It is not a great time in the hotel business either,” Vonnie said. She now had just two regular boarders.

“Too bad Walt can’t come with us,” Dylan said. He liked Walt and would have welcomed her company.

“She doesn’t want to go. She thinks Jack will be too fancy for her.”

“And we don’t know if Jack’s bride is ready to meet a queer.” Lisa said.

“Lisa, we are just two people who love each other.” Vonnie smiled at her sister. “Surely you don’t think of me as a queer.”

“Whatever. People say such awful things about us.”

“Some people just don’t feel good about themselves. That’s why they say mean things to others. And Jack has invited Walt and me down to his home anytime. His wife won’t object. Jack told me that.”

Dylan looked out that the snow piling up outside. “It’s a mean time to be driving anywhere,” he said. “But Dorothy won’t miss any school because of the December holidays. That’s a good thing.”

“Not if we perish in a snow storm.” Lisa said. She did want to see her brother again, but why couldn’t he come north. A trip downstate was lots of work when she had a brat and a husband to care for.

“There aren’t any new storms predicted,” Vonnie said. “This one should blow over in another hour.

“That doesn’t matter. If we have car trouble and have to walk, we’ll freeze to death.” Lisa insisted.

Dylan wasn’t worried. “I got matches, firewood, candles, and we’ll pack some extra food. We can wait it out if we need to.”

Vonnie shook her head. “It won’t be as bad as all that. I look forward to getting away for awhile. We can do some shopping in Detroit.”


 “You can do some shopping. Dylan doesn’t have any money.”

Dylan felt his face redden.

Vonnie said, “I’ll treat you and Dorothy to new dresses shoes and new hats.”

“That’ll just be more stuff to cart home,“ Lisa said. “Do you know how much room a kid takes in a car? We had to pack her clothes and toys. She’ll be whining the entire way unless we bring along that awful doll.”

“I don’t want to bring the doll; Penny’ll stay home.” Dorothy said.

‘Did you name the doll after your friend?” Vonnie asked. “Isn’t her name Penny?”

“No, I named the doll after JC Penny, the store.”

“Don’t you have a friend named Penny?”

“ Yeah, but she’s in trouble. She stole some things.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s the only one who’ll play with me though. The other kids don’t like her either. She gets into trouble all the time.”

“Well, don’t you get into trouble,” Vonnie said. “We can bring the doll if you want,” And anything else. Lisa, it won’t take that much room. Dorothy and I can play word games. We’ll make new words out of the letters in street signs. Michigan has such interesting place names. Kalamazoo and Ypsilanti. See what words we can make up out of those names.”

“I’ll take care of my own kid,” Lisa said.

Vonnie sighed. Both she and Dylan had the same thought. Lisa did not care for the child.

Dylan, Lisa, Vonnie and Dorothy piled into Dylan’s old Chevrolet.

“Let’s sing some songs,” Vonnie said to her niece. “What songs do you know?”

“All of them.”

“No one can know all the songs,“” Vonnie looked perplexed. “There’s too many of them.”

Lisa explained, “She watches ‘Your Hit Parade,’ and she does know a lot of popular songs.”

“Davy Crockett,” Dorothy explained excited.

“All right then,“ Vonnie began. “Born on a mountain top in Tennessee.”

Dorothy joined in.

Lisa put her hands to her ears. “I am going to have a headache long before we get to Jack’s house.”

When they got to the Detroit area, Vonnie read off directions, but Dylan managed to get lost anyway. They stopped at a tavern, and Vonnie called Jack. When she gave him the name of the tavern, he said he knew where it was. He would come and get them.

Fifteen minutes latter, Vonnie looked up from her Coke. A beautiful woman stood in front of her. At first she didn’t recognize the woman or the two pretty young girls who stood beside her. Then Jack was standing there beaming. “I think you know my wife-to-be. This is Lucinda.”

Vonnie and Lucinda threw their arms around each other and hugged.

Lisa sat with her mouth open.

Dorothy asked, “Who is that lady?”

Jack took them all to Detroit for a meal at the Badger Club. Vonnie and Lucinda chatted like the old friends they were.

“Why didn’t you tell me, you and Jack owned Almasy House? Why all the secrecy?”

“I was afraid if anyone found out a Black lady owned it, no one would stay there.”


 “Ridiculous,” Vonnie said.

“Remember, I’m half owner too,” Jack joked. “And I am definitely not a Black lady.”

“That town is so prejudiced,” Lisa said. “They hate Blacks and Jews and queers.”

Vonnie frowned at her sister “We aren’t Jewish, honey. We aren’t anything. And I wouldn’t call anyone a queer.” Then she turned to her brother and his finance. “I wondered so many times what happened to you.”

Dylan was uneasy in the fancy restaurant. He would have preferred a hamburger and beer in that bar where they had all met up. He knew his shoes were scuffed, his hair was self-cut. He just didn’t look like he belonged here.

Dorothy squirmed in her seat. She couldn’t find anything on the menu that interested her and asked if she could have a cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said that the chef could prepare that for her.

Dylan stared at his menu. He didn’t want to open his mouth and show his crooked teeth. He was not fancy and perfect like the people around him.

Jack sensing Dylan’s hesitation ordered the largest steak the place had for Dylan. “You must be starved after that long drive,” he said.

Dylan nodded.

The two teenage girls, Starr and Carol, could not look more different. Starr had her mother’s olive complexion, dark eyes and hair. She looked like Natalie Wood. Carol was blond and blue eyed more like Sandra Dee. But both girls were poised and dressed like teenage queens in satin slacks and cashmere sweaters with mink collars.

“Do you like school?” Starr asked Dorothy.

“Yeah,” Dorothy said because she felt it was expected. Actually she hated school.

“So what do you when you aren’t in school?” Starr was trying to make conversation.

“Nothing.”

“You must do something. Ice skate? There must be lots of ice up there in the U.P. Do you ski?”

Dorothy shook her head. She felt uncomfortable with these two girls who were both prettier than anyone at her school. She wished she could take these girls to school with her and show them off. See what pretty friends I have. They were sure a lot prettier than Penny Payton. Penny wasn’t pretty at all.

But Dorothy felt better, more at ease with Penny, who her mother said was a juvenile delinquent.

“I watch tv,” Dorothy finally said. “She had to say something, and she couldn’t think of anything else that she liked to do.”

Jack gave Lisa and Dylan a nice bedroom on the east side of his home. The mint green bedspread smelt like clean cotton. A bowl of apple cinnamon fragrance sat on the dresser. “I hope you don’t mind bedding down with Dorothy.” Jack said. “If not she could stay with one of the girls.”

“We’ll be fine.“ Lisa said.

“You know where the kitchen is. Help yourselves to anything. Vonnie will be next door; Lucinda and I are down the hall.”

Lisa could hear Vonnie and Lucinda talking excitedly in the next room. The two women could not get caught up. They had so many things to tell each other.

“Is there a television?” Dorothy asked. “I don’t want to miss ‘Maverick.’”

Jack was glad to make his niece happy in anyway he could. He told her where the television set was and that she could watch anything she liked. He closed the door.

Dylan and Lisa listened to his footsteps retreat down the hallway. “I can’t believe he’s marrying her,” Lisa said.

“She seems like a nice person,” Dylan said, “They’ll be happy.” Who could help liking Lucinda who had tried so hard to make them feel comfortable in that fancy restaurant.

“She’s a Nigger. White men don’t marry Niggers.”

“Keep your voice down,” Dylan hissed. “They can hear you.”

“I don’t care who hears me. We’re leaving right now.”

“What?”

“I said we’re leaving. I won’t stay here in this Nigger’s house.”

“Lisa, we don’t have anyplace to go. I’m dead tired from driving all day, part of it in a blizzard. We can’t afford a hotel. Dorothy wants to watch ‘Maverick.’”


 “What do you care about your daughter? The kids already make fun of her at school. Think what they’ll say when they find out her aunt is a black Negro.”

“I don’t care what anyone says.”

“My brother’s lost his mind. And I won’t have anything to do with her or him.” She grabbed Dorothy by the wrist and pulled her so hard the child cried out.

“Stop it. Stop it,” Dylan said blocking the door. “You’re hurting her.”

Lisa pushed her daughter so roughly that Dorothy fell to the floor. Lisa started hitting her husband. “Let me out of here. Let me out of here.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Lisa,” Vonnie said.

Then Jack called, “What’s going on?”

Dylan tried to put his arm around Lisa and calm her down, but she slugged him. Dorothy screamed when she saw blood on her daddy’s face.

Jack tired to open the door, but he had to push. Dorothy had rolled away from the door after she fell, but Lisa tried to hold it shut. Jack pushed until he was in the room and then took his sister in his arms. He held her. “What’s the matter, Little One?” he asked. She collapsed against him for a moment and then pushed him away. “I don’t want you to marry her.”

“Hush now, baby.” Vonnie tried to comfort Lisa, who she knew she had neglected in her excitement over seeing Lucinda again.

“The Klan’s coming,” Lisa said.

“No, we’re safe. This is Detroit. The Klan doesn’t come here.”

“The Klan is everywhere.”

Dorothy crouched in a corner. She rubbed the sore places on her wrist where her mother had grabbed her. When she looked up, she saw all those elegant people. Her aunt and her uncle and those pretty teenage girls who were supposed to be twins, but who looked so opposite, and yet both were as pretty as television stars. Beside them stood their mother, who was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Then she looked at her sad faced, plain-clothed, simple parents. Why did her mother have to behave so horribly? A doctor came and gave Lisa a sedative, Vonnie explained that the long drive and the excitement were just too much for Lisa. They should have come right to the house and rested instead of going to that restaurant, wonderful as it was.

In the morning, Lisa moaned and screamed. Vonnie and Dylan held her until that same doctor, a neighbor, gave her another shot.

“The doctor shook his head as he left. “She should be institutionalized,” he said.

“She isn’t always like this,” Vonnie said. Then she caught Dylan’s eye. They both knew the truth was very different.

Lisa rested alone in the upstairs bedroom while guests came to celebrate the wedding of Lucinda Rinaldi and Jack Brianka. The couple had asked that no one bring gifts, but a few friends brought gifts ranging from new cook wear to silver tea pots. Lucinda thanked them.

“I feel empty handed,’ Vonnie whispered to her friend.

“Don’t. You know Jack and I both have far more possessions than we need.”

“Where’s the honeymoon to be?”

“Right here in Detroit. We’ve been living together for years. And everyday is a honeymoon with Jack.”

“So why didn’t you guys get married before?”

“Silly things. Jack promised my father he would never marry me. Father wanted me to be in high society. But it was never what I wanted. I wanted Jack. We deserve happiness, don’t you think?”

Vonnie was the maid of honor. Jack asked Dylan to serve as best man.”

“I don’t even have a suit,” Dylan protested.

“Good.” Jack joked. “I’ll get married in blue jeans and a shirt. More comfortable that way.”

Lucinda’s dress was ivory velvet. After the ceremony everyone applauded the beautiful couple. Dorothy stayed in the bedroom with her mother.

“They’re ashamed of us,” Lisa whispered. “They don’t want us down there.”

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 THREE: BROKEN HOMES UNKEPT GARDENS

Wednesday January 7, 1925

Martha Brianka had put her three children to bed and then sat down to darn one of her husband’s shirts. John wore a full beard, a plaid shirt and miner’s woolen pants. He smoked his pipe as he sat by the fire reading the Torah. It was a strange book, written in a strange language, not even Russian like her husband.

She knew her husband had been well-educated, before the attack on his village had killed his parents and his first wife. He had immigrated to America, drank heavily, but had stopped drinking even before Prohibition became the law of the land. Then he started working as a laborer. He had drifted north, boarded at Almasy House and there he had met her. She had been working as a maid there in that huge house. Rose, the innkeeper, had fired Martha for marrying the “dirty Jew.”

Many of her friends had also deserted her when she married a Jewish man, but she loved John; she loved his gentle laugh and his warmth. She had never been popular with the men folk, so when this big bear of a man showed her attention, she had been grateful. Now they had three children.

As she sat sewing, she watched him, and she saw in his face much of the beauty that lived in the faces of her children, John Jr. who had already adopted the nickname of Jack, Yvonne whom they called Vonnie, and little Lisa.

When John looked up, from his book, he noticed her watching him and he smiled across the small area between them. He suggested that Lisa start school when classes resumed after the holidays. Lisa their youngest was just five years old and terrified of the dark, of strange noises, and of people outside the family. Lisa would hide under the bed to avoid having to go out with her mother and once they left the house, she would try to hide behind her mother’s skirts.

“She’s so shy,” Martha said.

“She’ll get over it.”

They were silent for awhile. Then he asked, “What did Doc say?”

She hadn’t gone. She had promised him she would consult the doctor about her chest pains. “I just didn’t have the time,” she said. “The children keep me so busy, and whatever would I do with Lisa.”

Not only had she not gone to see the doctor, she had not told her husband that her chest pains were getting much worse. It seemed like almost anything set them off, including thinking about sending little Lisa to school.

She resumed her sewing.

He sighed. “Make sure you get down to that doctor’s office tomorrow.”

“We can’t afford doctor bills, you know that,” she reminded him.

“We can’t lose you.” He said it simply, but she knew how much he hurt. His first wife had perished in a pogrom in the old country. While he loved Martha and their children, she knew he still hurt for those he had lost. “I’ll go tomorrow,” She said. “Doc is always in on Thursdays.”

Little Lisa the youngest of their three children wandered in.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” her father told her.

“I had a bad dream.”

He took her onto his lap and gently rocked her.

Martha didn’t go to church anymore. She wasn’t welcome since she had married a Jew, but today had been Epiphany. She missed the holiday. When she was growing up, her mother had made an Epiphany cake with a dried bean baked inside. Whoever got the piece with the dried bean, got to be king for a day and wear the paper crown her mother cut and sewed each year.

She should have made such a cake and a crown for her own children, but butter, eggs, and milk were precious. Their cow had not been giving much milk lately, and John had killed the last of the laying hens for Sunday’s supper.

She decided that she would not go to the doctor. Money was needed for other more important things.

Almasy House, 1925

The clock struck midnight at Almasy House, the biggest boarding house on the Menominee Range. Epiphany was over. So were the free drinks.

Rose Almasy moved among the drinking men; she signaled the bartender with a nod of her head. “Gentlemen please,” she said. “It is time to begin the business of tonight.”

Her guests were Klansmen. They met at her house every Thursday. This was Wednesday or it had been until a few minutes ago. The drinks usually weren’t free. Rose had a job for the men to do this night.

The bartender started gathering up glasses. Several of the half dozen men in the room groaned. “Just one more. How about it, Rose?”

Rose smiled at the miners. They followed her with their eyes as she moved to the corner table where Sheriff Leo Olson and his ten-year old son, Miles, sat. “Come back and report as soon as you’re finished,” she told the sheriff.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Leo gave her an exaggerated mock salute.

“You’re drunk.”

“Wasn’t that the plan?”

She needed him sober. That way there would be less chance of anything going wrong. “Nobody is going to get hurt. Nobody,” she emphasized.

“You’re going to owe me more than free drinks.”

A maid came in with a pile of cut up sheets and pillow cases. The men drifted over and started putting them on. Rose had removed any embroidery or marks that could trace the bedding to Almasy House. These were old sheets used in the cheap rooms. It would cost her some to replace them, but tonight’s work was important.

“Can I come along?” ten-year old, Miles asked.

“Best you go home to bed,“ his father said.

“You can stay here and have a root beer with me,” Rose said to the child. “I wanna go.” Miles said. His father gave him a warning stare, and the son backed down. “I’ll go home,” he decided.

“See that you do. We don’t need any spectators. If I catch you in the woods…”

“Don’t worry, Pa. I’m going home.”

Over in the corner another boy sat. He too had been brought to Almasy House with his dad. He was new to town and the kids called him Sonny, but his name was Norman Cain. A similar conversation took place between this boy and his dad. The two boys left together.

Rose thought their exit was too fast. Would they spy on the men? That shouldn’t matter because no one was going to get hurt. The Klansmen were just going to have some innocent fun. The two little boys knew what was going to happen. So what if they watched.

Leo, the sheriff, took off his badge.

Enrico Rinaldi had been reading his newspaper in the foyer. He set it down and studied the color design in this part of Almasy House. His own new home was being built on five acres of land across the woods from Almasy House. Rinaldi, owned the Virginia City mine, named after a town in Nevada where he had owned several silver mines.

The Nevada mines had mostly played out, but here in Upper Michigan iron ore flowed. His few mining investments had earned him millions during the Great War. He used his profits to invest in other mining properties.

His little daughter who slept upstairs would be a very wealthy heiress. He was anxious for their house to be finished, and he planned to move into their new mansion as soon as possible. Almasy House gave him the shivers. He knew that creepy old woman who ran the place also ran girls and booze. Rinaldi himself had nothing against a glass of wine or even something stronger now and then, but he didn’t approve of breaking the law. Rose had business partnerships with several notorious gangsters.

Rose scared him. She had a menacing quality like a disease, invisible but fatal. At least his home would be ready soon. He could move out of Almasy House.

Enrico saw his reflection in the mirror across from the lobby. He was 36 years old, a first generation millionaire. He had light copper colored skin, curly black hair that he wore short and straightened to a wave instead of a tight curl. His double breasted suit came out of the best New York tailor shop.

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he was startled to see Klansmen in sheets and pillowcases rushing toward him. For one second he thought they were there to lynch him.

They flowed past him like so many ghosts. Rose Almasy walked behind them.

“What the hell…” he said. “A bunch of drunk fools wearing bed sheets. Mrs. Almasy, I must tell you…”

“Please call me Rose.” Seeing his discomfort, she hurried to reassure him. “I am so sorry. I should have insisted they use the back entrance.”

“Looks like they’re ready to lynch someone. Is there a Negro family here in town? We should warn them?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Where’s the sheriff?”

“Don’t worry; he’s keeping an eye on them.” She said truthfully.

“I’m from the South. I’ve seen Klansmen before. Those men were drunk and they’re up to no good.” He tried not to shudder at the memory of the Klansmen he had known in Louisiana. He had not expected them to be active this far north. “Rose, if I see another hooded fool, my daughter and I are going to find another place to stay. I don’t care if we have to live in a stable.”

“I’ll see they don’t you disturb you again. I promise.” After tonight she would have no more use of the Klan, and she hoped neither would anyone else in town.

She didn’t know much about Negroes. Would she have tossed out the wealthy and elegant Enrico Rinaldi if she knew he was a Negro instead of Italian as he and his daughter pretended to be? They had money and Rose liked money. She would surely find some way to work with the Rinaldis no matter what they proved to be.

Rose accompanied the wealthy mine owner as he made his way up the stairs to the rooms he shared with his eight year old daughter, Lucinda.

“We’re not a hooligan town,” she assured him.

Martha checked all three children. They slept like the babies they still were. Jack was just nine years old, and sweet like his little sisters. She smiled as she left them to their dreams.

Miles had never intended to go right home. Neither had Sonny. They walked down the sidewalk for awhile, but then turned north and entered the woods behind Rose Almasy’s house. Some people called it Central Park, although it was not central. The wooded area was practically at the edge of town.

On the other side of the woods, a new house was being built by Enrico Rinaldi, one of the mine owners. There were more homes on the east side. That is where the action would take place tonight.

Sonny followed Miles. The two boys crouched in the shadows and waited. The moon was dark, but their eyes adjusted quickly. Then they heard the wagon tumbling along. They smelled the tar and saw the torches.

Little Lisa was the first in her family to awaken. She saw the lights moving outside. Her five year old legs were too small to reach the floor, so she slid from the bed. Silently she moved toward the window. Just as she raised herself up over the small dresser to look outside, a hooded figure appeared.

She screamed and ran blindly from the room.

Miles and Sonny watched the men as they a rolled the tub of hot burning tar from the wagon. Torches illuminated the night. The boys crept deeper into the shadows. If their fathers saw them, they would each get a beating.

The men seemed more drunken than they had seemed in Rose’s drawing room when they were drinking the free whiskey. Sometimes the whiskey took awhile to take effect.

Miles heard his dad remind them that they were supposed to scare the family, and no was supposed to get hurt.

That was when everyone heard the first scream. Miles did not at first know who was screaming, but the sound went on and on.

John awoke to his daughter’s screams. Torch lights paraded outside his bedroom window and hooded figures hurrying past. “Get the children downstairs. Hide them,” he told Martha.

In his mind, he was back in Russia at the time when he had lost his first wife. Martha opened the door to the children’s bedroom and felt them rush past her. “Run to the cellar, now. Hide.” She ran after them and as her terror increased, she saw just the two children. “Where’s Lisa?” She whirled around. “John,” she screamed her husband’s name.

Outside a dog barked.

Lisa ran in circles. She stumbled against the doorway or was it a wall. White sheeted men rushed past her. They were in the house.

She hit the outside door and it opened. She found herself outside and running. She slipped on the snow or the ice. She fell. She crawled. Someone stepped on her fingers.

White sheets swirled around her. One of the men grabbed her, but then something knocked him over and Lisa hit the ground again. The dog barked. “Sheppie,“ Lisa cried, recognizing the neighbor’s dog. A gun barked and she saw the dog fall down. “Sheppie. Sheppie.”

Lisa tried to crawl, but she was kicked and her hands were stepped on again. She saw her daddy dragged from the house. He was knocked down, and kicked.

“Daddy.”

Inside the house, Martha ran up and down the hallway. Dark figures rushed past her. She knew Lisa was outside, and she had to reach her baby, but her chest hurt. She stumbled into the kitchen; she couldn’t catch her breath. She fell and tried to get up. The pain stabbed her. She collapsed against the stove and lost consciousness.

“Jew.”

“Filthy scum.”

“Tarring’s too good for ‘em.”

The two boys watched and listened.

It was about then that Miles saw the rope. One of the hooded men swung it over a tree branch. John had been stripped to the waist for the tarring; but they hadn’t tarred him.

John was now being dragged toward the tree.”

“Just scare ‘em,” Miles heard his father say.

Leo was trying to maintain order. He was, after all, the sheriff.

“They ain’t gonna just scare him,” Sonny said. “This is gonna get good.”

A ladder appeared from somewhere.

“Daddy,” Lisa screamed as she tried to crawl to her father.

“Get the child away,” John begged. “Don’t let her see.”

Those were his last words.

Miles watched like he would watch a movie. But unlike the movies he was used to watching this had sound. After awhile, he even forgot Sonny crouching there beside him.

First the men were very drunk and then and then…they sobered up; the men were shocked by what they themselves had done.

The little girl sobbed, and her sobs seemed louder and certainly more disturbing than her screams had been. Miles didn’t think it, but somehow her sobbing added to his own excitement. After awhile he looked at the little girl, much younger than he himself was. Make her stop crying, he thought.

Her thin nightgown could not protect her from the cold. Her hands were red and bloody from being stepped on. She had been kicked. The men had been so drunk and so intent on what they were doing, they had not even noticed her.

A man stumbled over the little girl.

Someone kicked and spit on the body of the dying dog, and then a shot rang through the air to stop the animal’s whimpering.

“Do something with the kid. Shut her up,” a man said.

Some of the men got sick and lost their booze-soaked suppers in the bushes. Miles and Sonny had to move back further, so they would not be discovered. Miles climbed a tree to be more out of the way, but then he could better see the hanged man with his red blotched face in the torch lights and his purple tongue sticking out, and his neck in a grotesque position.

So this is what a hanging looked like. Miles had seen drawings of hangings in books about the wild west. He now understood the excitement of the townspeople at those events.

Someone climbed up and cut the dead man down.

Miles watched as his father tore off his robe and hood and hurried among the Klansmen. “We were supposed to scare him. You stupid bastards.” He had never seen his dad so mad. “We were to get him out of town, nothing more.”

The hooded men mumbled; they whispered.

“He married a Christian lady.”

“How many more Jew bastards was he gonna make.”

“God needed this done.”

“God had nothing to do with what happened tonight,” Miles’ father sputtered out the words. “And when Rose…. When she finds out what we did, she’ll have us all strung up.”

Would she really? Miles wondered if even the mighty Rose Almasy could get so many of the townsmen killed.

Then the men turned their attention to the sidewalk. Someone new had arrived.

It was one of the servants from Almasy House.

“Rose sent me to get Martha and the children.”

“The children,” Miles heard his dad say.

The men all seemed to turn at once and look at little Lisa who was now still. The child was dirty and bloody and her eyes were the eyes of someone much older. She looked like a cartoon drawing of a child lying there beside a snowbank with torches casting an unearthly light around her.

I gotta go,” Sonny whispered. “I can’t tell if my dad is still there. If I’m not there when he gets home, I’ll get a beating.”

Miles nodded. He would get a beating too if his dad caught him. The boys retreated deeper into the woods and then out of the woods.

Miles walked the sidewalks for awhile, and then finally he walked home and crawled into bed, but he couldn’t sleep. He had to pretend he slept. His dad must not find out that he had been there watching. He lay quietly in the darkness.

In his mind the event replayed over and over like one of those movies at the theater, But better. This had really happened. And it thrilled him.

CHAPTER TWO, BROKEN HOMES, UNKEPT GARDENS

Chapter Two

The farm where I live is on Yellow Creek Road five miles from town. My housemates are hippies. We take college classes in the fall and winter. In summer, we grow our own vegetables, and sell the eggs our hens lay.

I’m the only one in the group with a regular job.

Rent is cheap because we repair what needs to be repaired, and we take care of the animals. If we move out, the animals would go the bigger Cheney farm, 191 acres of crops and dairy cows. The farm lies behind our little sanctuary.

Vonnie’s nephew Dennis and his American Indian wife Dancing Bear run the big farm. Would they buy Yvonne’s five acres if she wanted to sell? I suspected they would. Vonnie might even give it to them.

Sue, one of my roommates met me at the door. “I started packing your things, Mrs. Cheney said she wanted you back in town ASAP.”

Sue wore a blue granny dress, flowers in her hair and a peace sign necklace. I was in black slacks and a white t-shirt , the uniform of an Almasy House maid.

“If I missed anything, I can bring it to town when I do an egg run,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it; I’m probably going to need to get away. Any excuse will do.”

I went into my bedroom. Two suitcases were packed. I’d have to shop for some dresses if I was going to be managing the house. But I would probably want my black slacks and t-shirts too.

I saw the old doll lying on the dresser.

“Do you want to bring that old thing with you?” Sue asked. She was pointing at Dorothy’s doll, Penny.

I put the doll on top of my suitcase. “I’m keeping it for a friend,” I told her. I knew I shouldn’t keep the doll, or if I did I should rename it. How freaky is it to have a doll with the same name as yours?

Buried deep in my closet is a huge cardboard box. This is my box of treasures. I picked up the box, and despite knowing I had to get back to town soon I sorted the contents.

“A Date With the Everly Brothers” phonograph LP.

“Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs” by Marty Robbins. LP. (Somebody left these recordings at the Chaney Farm. He wasn’t coming back. So the records are mine.

A tube of lipstick, an umbrella and sunglasses shoplifted from a dime store when I was eleven or twelve.

About a dozen old letters. These are the good ones. The boring letters I toss away or put back.

A bundle of pages that Elaine Mynter, the Yorkie cook, put out by the curb one day in 1960 or 1961.

A notebook I took from Mary Mynter Smith’s closet. There were lots of valuable things in her closet that I could have taken. I just took the old notebook.

Some index cards. The museum where I volunteer is putting all the county records of births, weddings and deaths on index cards. Sometimes I make a copy of the index cards for me. Sometimes I copy the information and take it. There are some secrets this town isn’t ready for.

The county won’t notice them missing.

The phone rang. Sue answered it and I could hear her making excuses.

“Mrs. Cheney says she needs you back right away.”

We carried the box, the suitcases and doll to my car. I noticed the cat carrier sitting on the porch.

“Where’s my cat?” I asked after we had the suitcases in the trunk.

“You could leave Thaddeus here.”

“I want him with me. I had better grab his cat food and litter too.” I didn’t have enough money to buy too many extras. I could always hit Vonnie up for extra money to buy cat food and litter, but I preferred go prepared.

We dragged the sacks of litter and food to the car and then went back to the house. Thaddeus sat in the middle of the living room. “I don’t think he wants to leave,” Sue said.

“He won’t mind it after we’re there. Lisa has a nice apartment.”

“You’ve been in her apartment?” Why was Sue so surprised?

“Several times,“ I told her.

“You’re living in a crazy lady’s apartment, with her cat and how many ghosts? If you’re crazy enough to move to Almasy House, at least leave your cat here. I hear Lisa’s cat is as crazy as she is.”

“We’ll be okay. Remember, we aren’t living in Almasy House. We’re across the parking lot. No ghosts there. At least none that I know of.”

“What if Lisa gets out of jail and doesn’t know you’re staying there and she - I don’t know - shoots you?”

“We’ll be safe,” I assured her.

“The charge is murder,“ Sue said.

“Negligent homicide,“ I corrected her. “She hasn’t been convicted yet.”

“YET,” Sue emphasized the word.

“She didn’t do it, okay. It’s a trumped up charge.”

Thaddeus went willingly into the carrier. He was nervous at first. He usually only goes to the vet, so as soon as he realized this was a different kind of outing, he calmed down.

I talked to him as I drove. “The cat you will be living with is Miss Kitty,” I said. “She is a calico named after Miss Kitty on “Gunsmoke.” She has a short stub of a tail just like you because long ago she got out and came back without the tail. We think she was caught in a trap. Don’t you ever get out on me.”

Thaddeus had lost his tail in a mean winter. He had crawled into a car motor for warmth, and when someone started the engine, his tail was cut off by the fan. That happened before I adopted Thaddeus from the local animal shelter. I make sure he is always safe and warm now.

I figured the two cats would like each other because they had the missing tails in common.

I must have a missing brain to get involved with Lisa Brianka’s troubles. But then I was already involved.

When we got to apartment above the Almasy House garage, Thaddeus was sleeping. I carried him upstairs.

Vonnie trusts only a few of us around her sister. Sometimes I’m the only one my boss lets near Lisa.

I opened the door to Lisa’s apartment. “Hey, Miss Kitty,” I called.

I didn’t see Miss Kitty anywhere, so I let Thaddeus out of the carrier and went back outside to get my things. I lugged the suitcases, the doll, the litter, and cat food up the steps and found myself out of breath. That was a workout.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could have the rest of the day off?” I said.

Thaddeus came from the bedrooms and rubbed against my legs. “Did you meet Miss Kitty yet?” I asked. “She’s here somewhere.”

The phone started ringing and then someone was knocking on the door. Did I dare answer either one?

“It’s me.” Vonnie called from outside. At least it was safe to open the door. “Do you need anything?” she asked once she was inside.

“Lunch. I’ve got a BLT from the Yorkie Cafe. Can I bum a cup of coffee off your staff?”

“You are my staff,” she reminded me.

“You mean no one else is working today?”

“They’re there. Welcome to your first day as hotel manager.”

“I can’t even manage these two cats.”

The phone had stopped ringing. That was a good thing.

“Give me a minute to look around and make sure I’ve got groceries and enough pet supplies.” I said.

Vonnie opened the refrigerator. “I had Jack buy you some groceries on his way north. He got cat food and there’s enough litter for now.”

“Jack’s here? He could be the one staying in this apartment.”

“He wanted a room in the main house.”

“Lucky him. He gets a choice.”

“Penny, we have serious problems. I need help, and I wouldn’t ask, if I could go someplace else.”

Of course. Secrets had to be kept. Jack, for instance, would be in disguise. He’s an ex-con and conditions of his parole keep him from coming to the Upper Peninsula at all. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t come. He visits often. But I realized staying in Lisa’s apartment would make him conspicuous. Someone would notice and he could end up in jail too. He would be better off at the farm with my hippy friends, but I knew he would want to be closer to his sisters, Vonnie and Lisa.

“Don’t worry,” I told Vonnie. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

“Rent’s free,” she said. “Your salary is triple. Of course, you will also be working triple the hours. That means the historical society needs to find another clerk.”

“But I’m doing an oral history later today,” I said.

I needed some get-away time. I couldn’t think of a better place to hide than in the museum. After all it’s right there at Almasy House. I was not giving up my volunteer job with the historical society. I would manage somehow.

After she left, I checked out the apartment. Jack had brought a bag of potato chips and bottles of Coke. They would go great with my sandwich. But first I wanted to look around some more.

I’m a world class snoop after all. I can’t help myself.

I looked in Lisa Mynter’s closets and in her medicine chest. I might have to take clothes to the jail for her. The medicine chest was bare. She didn’t seem to be taking anything for her weirdness. I wasn’t sure what mental illness she suffered from, and I didn’t want to go over any of that with Vonnie .

I shouldn’t have to. I take care of the business; Vonnie takes care of Lisa. Wasn’t that our agreement?

I tried to call the Cheney place. The line was busy. I ate my lunch. Then I tried to call again. No answer.

There was always someone there to answer the phone. Then Lisa’s phone rang.

I decided to answer it. If it was a reporter or someone else I shouldn’t talk to, I could always hang up.

“Are you coming to work or not?” Vonnie asked. “I need you.”

“I’ve been trying to reach the farmhouse. Something might be wrong. I can’t get an answer.” I said.

“Turn on the T.V.,” she instructed me, “Channel 6.”

Lisa’s phone had a long cord, so I could reach across the room. I flipped on the television and saw the farm where I had been living. Sue was hiding behind a door. “No comment,” she said to a reporter before she slammed the door shut.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“That killer in Louisiana says he buried someone there on my land. There’s also the connection to Lisa’s case.”

“We can’t let them keep snooping out there,” I said. We had a nice cannabis patch behind the house.

“Do we have a choice? The cops have a search warrant. Reporters follow the cops.”

“What about my friends? They live out there.”

“Tell them to move if they don’t like it. Now come over to the big house. Things are just as crazy over here.”

I gulped down the last of my pop.

State Prison, Louisiana, 1970

Sheriff Miles Olson knew the procedure. He had been to the Louisiana State Prison before. He would be searched, photographed and then searched again. His keys and his badge had sharp edges, and could be used as weapons. They could not go inside.

He submitted to the searches. They were like a thousand searches he himself had conducted on prisoners. Only this time he was the one being searched. He didn’t mind it.

Heavy bars opened in front of him; doors clanged shut behind him. Miles wasn’t usually claustrophobic, but he felt hemmed in. It wasn’t enough to know he could walk out.

Finally he was seated in a room made of concrete and steel. The guard who had led him this far locked the door behind him. Miles waited. Time moved at a different pace in here.

He heard scraping noises. The door in front of him opened; another guard entered and then another guard. Behind them came the prisoner. He shuffled in followed by more guards. The prisoner’s legs and hands were restrained by chains that wound around his waist, his wrists and his feet. He sat down heavily, the chains clanging. A guard then handcuffed the prisoner to the table and secured both his legs to the chair.

The prisoner grinned at Miles; it was the kind of grin one would see on a Halloween display. It didn’t make it all the way up his eyes. Surely the prisoner hadn’t been drinking, but he seemed stoned; perhaps he was being drugged. Miles knew they drugged some convicts as their execution day got closer. The men waited until the guards left. Then they would talk.

“How you doin’ old buddy,” the prisoner said. “Still wearin’ a badge in that there hick town?”

Miles didn’t say anything. He stared instead at the prisoner’s forehead. He drummed his fingers on the table.

“You take care of what we talked about?” The prisoner seemed to be chewing something, perhaps gum. Did they give prisoners gum?

“I’m working on it.” Miles said.

“Work a little harder. It ain’t like I’ve got a lot of time left. I ain’t made all my confessions yet.”

Penny When I got to Almasy House the next morning, Jack waited for me in the foyer. He’s Vonnie and Lisa’s brother. We walked to Vonnie’s office, where she was talking to Paul Cantrell, Lisa’s attorney. Dancing Bear Cheney, a full blooded Ojibwa Indian, a licensed M.D. and the doctor on record for Lisa was there too. Most other people around here are too racist to be treated by an Indian, so Danni works mostly as a registered nurse and herbalist. I knew young Dr. Tracie would examine Lisa also, but he and Danni would most likely agree.

After Jack and I were seated, I said, “Go over it again; I want to know what’s happening.”

“What a surprise,” Vonnie said.

I gave her a look in return that said, don’t give me a rough time, and you need my help here.

Vonnie started telling us what she knew.

“Lisa was working with one of the new maids. We’ve been so busy; I had to hire some girls that I don’t know very well. Of course, I told them that Lisa has strange episodes, but I guess this maid was talking to some of the town’s people, and she was told that Lisa is more than a bit off. This maid also knew some things about…” Vonnie couldn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“Lisa shouldn’t be working with strangers,” I said. “They scare her.”

“The girl seemed okay, and she had good references. Anyway they weren’t together long. I had them cleaning different rooms. But the girl is young and efficient; she finished her room before Lisa did and went in to help Lisa.”

“What happened?”

“Lisa started talking about killing someone.”

“What?” I said.

“You know she has hallucinations about people getting hung.”

“That doesn’t mean she hangs people.” She wouldn’t know how to do that. Hanging is how a group of men kill someone. A little old lady like Lisa Mynter would have difficulty hanging a picture. Anyway the charge was drowning Vonnie’s five year old son, Louis. I knew how much Vonnie must be hurting as she relived the tragedy.

I still didn’t get the connection between Lisa and her usual crazy banter and the accidental death of a child almost forty years ago.

The old timer was waiting for me in the museum’s gift shop. I led him into Mary Mentor Smith’s outer office. We would do the interview there. Old timers come to the museum to give us oral histories. They talk about the schools they went to, the cars they drove, the friends they had. I get information about the town and how it used to be from these old timers.

“Too bad about that there Brianka girl,” he said.

“She’s got a good lawyer, and Miles sure doesn’t have a case.”

“That girl is peculiar. Don’t believe she’s a killer though.”

“Do you know Lisa?” I asked.

“Not really. Heard lots about her though.”

“Did you know her dad?” I asked. “He worked in the Tilden Mine until 1925. That’s the year he disappeared.”

He nodded. “Knew him. He was a foreigner. Didn’t speak English the best, but he was educated. We all knew that. Something bad happened to him in the old country and he came here.”

“He was Jewish,” I said.

“That’s what they said.”

“Lots of people back then didn’t like the Jews, even here in this country. Do you have any idea what happened to him?”

“Nope.”

“Some people say he was lynched.”

“I ain’t got any idea what happened to him.” The old timer repeated.

“The Klan had something to do with it.” I said.

He nodded. “More ‘an likely.”

Questions:

In this part of the story Penny comes across as more reliable. We know Vonnie, a successful business woman depends on her. Yet Penny has hippy friends who smoke marijuana, and the reader is reminded of her dishonest past? What is your take on Penny? Is she worthy of trust?

In this part of the story we meet some less likable characters including a sheriff with dark secrets, a serial killer who is about to be executed and Jack, ex con who violates his parole by coming to the Upper Michigan. Are any of these characters in any way sympathetic? Which characters will be the greatest threat to Penny and which ones might prove allies?

The 20th century was our most violent century. Some groups, like immigrants and the mentally ill were targeted with hatred and prejudice. Already in this story, a mentally ill woman has been arrested for a crime she did not commit, and we have learned her Jewish father disappeared, perhaps he was even murdered. What other groups of people faced similar prejudice and what are some of the ways they deal with the prejudices aimed against them?