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.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Chapter Thirteen

From the woods, two men watched Lisa and her nephew. Lisa raked the leaves and pulled weeds. Little Louis was in a playpen, which kept him safe while Lisa worked. He had toys which included a truck from the Sears catalog.

Soon Louis would be in school. Lisa thought how she would miss them.

Then Louis tried to climb out of the playpen. Lisa lifted him from the playpen. Louis ran around her, sometimes helping and sometimes getting in the way. Lisa asked him to pick strawberries and gave him a small bucket. That should keep him busy.

“Hide and seek,” he said.

“Not now,” she smiled at the child.

While Lisa worked, the two men watched. They were careful that she not see them. That would spook her. Once before they had spooked her and then she had hidden all day in the house with the door locked. It had been days before she came back out even though the plants needed weeding and the chickens needed feed. Vonnie had fed the animals when she came home, so they hadn’t gone hungry.

Lisa was a strange girl.

“Don’t know why we don’t pick her.” Miles said. “We aren’t going to pin the killings on her brother anyway.”

“Don’t be so sure about that. Anyway I got a better idea.”

They kept watching.

Lisa had to go to the bathroom. “You stay where I can see you,” she said to Louis. “Don’t go wondering off where I have to try and find you.”

Louis stopped only for a moment to look at her, and then went back to picking strawberries. Lisa decided to take no chances. There was no telling how much mischief he could get into in the minute or two she was in the outhouse. She picked him up and placed him back in the playpen. Louis whined and then sat down with a big frown. “Me scared,” he said.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Lisa didn’t believe her own words, but she had to pee. “I’ll be right back. Stay right there, and you’ll be safe.”

Years later, she would remember how she had a premonition. Something was not right. Something stirred in the bushes. She would be be forever haunted by the little boy’s words and her own sense that something was wrong that morning.

“Me scared.” Louis repeated. Lisa was scared to.

She went to the outhouse, looked around one last time and glanced at little Louis to make sure he were all right. Then she went inside.

“Let’s have some fun,” Sonny said. He ran over to the outhouse and placed a heavy board against the outside. “Wish I had a great big rattlesnake to put in there.” He was giggling so hard, he could barely talk.

Lisa heard the plank hit the door. She stood quiet for a second. She heard the giggling. “Who’s out there?” Lisa started pushing at the door. “Let me out,” she called.

Miles just laughed and backed away from the door. He sat down and decided to enjoy her frustration.

When he looked around to see what his friend was doing, he didn’t see Sonny. Nor did he see the child. “Sonny,” he called. “Sonny.”

Lisa yelled . “Let me out.” Then the screams were just screams. Lisa wailed as the walls of the outhouse closed in on her and the darkness terrified her. She never stayed in the outhouse for more than a few minutes. She was always too afraid. Now she imagined hanged men dangling above her head or just outside the door. She imagined snakes on the floor.

“Stupid bitch.” Miles wanted to take out his gun and start shooting into the outhouse. That might attract too much attention. Dennis Cheney’s farm was just the other side of those trees. And to that side, Cheney Creek lay silent and glistening in the sun as it ran toward the Menominee River.

Where was Sonny?

A scream came from the direction of the creek.

“Damn,” Miles ran toward the creek. The ground was uneven in the woods. A recent rain storm had scattered branches. A log lay in his path, and he tripped over it. His fall was cushioned by a bed of pine needles. He got up and kept running.

When he came out of the woods, he ran right into the creek. Sonny and the boy were perhaps a hundred feet to his right. Sonny was holding the child’s head under water. Louis had stopped struggling and his wet clothing floated above the waters. He looked fat and bloated like an over stuffed little scarecrow.

Miles tackled his friend. He pushed Sonny aside and tried to grab for the child, but Sonny got up and pushed Miles aside. The two men struggled with Miles trying desperately to get to the the little boy and Sonny fighting him off. Little Louis’ body flopped to the side like a rag doll. In the distance, Lisa’s screams were a movie soundtrack from Hell.

“Too late, man. Too late,” Sonny said. He lay exhausted on the bank while Miles struggled to get up and get to the child. Even before Miles dragged the wet form from the water, he knew it was indeed too late. Little Louis was dead.

“You stupid idiot. What makes you think you can get away with that?”

Sonny slowly got up and walked away. His wet clothing hanging to him. “We can hide the body.”

“Don’t you think he’ll be reported missing? This ain’t like a woman walking away because she can’t stand Mommy and Daddy and the farm anymore.

There’ll be a hunt for the child. The tunnels will ll be searched like they ain’t never been searched before.”

Sonny shrugged. “So leave the body here. Blame the crazy.”

“She’s locked in the outhouse,” Miles reminded his friend. “When we leave her out, she’ll see us.”

“I ain’t leavin’ her out.” With that Sonny walked away.

Lisa 1970

Lisa was scared. This was her second night in jail. She disliked the dark because scary drowned things floated in the dark. She imagined that she awoke in a sunken ship or a downed airplane. Wreckage surrounded her.

She was hungry. She hadn’t eaten. If she ate, they would drug her. Who were they? The jailers. Miles Olson.

She knew what his dad had done; she would tell. She knew what he had done. But would anyone believe her? They hadn’t in the past.

They would kill her.

She must be very careful.

The lights went off at ten. At first she was too afraid of the dark to sleep. She lay staring into the blackness until her eyes adjusted. She could see shades of gray and the black cell bars. After a long time she slept.

When she awoke, it was still dark, but a faint light shown from some where, like someone had dropped a flashlight that was still on. Something hung from the ceiling of her jail cell.

She remembered. The hanging. His feet dangled in the air. His face was purple and the eyes looked right at her. And. And.

And wet sea weed. That’s what hung from her jail jell. Lisa started screaming.

1940

Vonnie had a bad cold, and she was feeling anxious to be home. Her chores were caught up and though Lucinda was having a difficult pregnancy, Vonnie knew she was needed at home.

“Go,” Lucinda urged. “There’s nothing more you can do here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather be alone. I hate to have anyone with me when I vomit.”

Vonnie smiled at that. She remembered her own pregnancy, and how she often needed to be by herself as nausea and cramps raked her.

“Honey, I can always be outside the door. Always there for you.”

Lucinda clutched her stomach and smiled. She was so big she could have swallowed a pickle barrel.

“Maybe you’re having twins.”

“One baby will be enough,“ Lucinda insisted. But she knew her husband’s mistress was expecting a baby, and Brad planned to pawn it off as their offspring. How would Brad explain two babies? Would he say they were twins? Lucinda didn’t feel well enough to think about that. It would be enough to just get through this pregnancy. She wished Jack could be with her.

“Go. Go home,” she told Vonnie. “If I need anything, my father’s here.”

Vonnie drove slowly home. At every bend in the road she expected to see some terror.

She knew she was letting her imagination get away for her. But since Ezekiel ’s death she felt vulnerable. Of course, she missed him. But it was more than that. Ezekiel had protected her. But surely she wasn’t in danger.

She felt as fearful as Lisa. She was imagining the things Lisa might imagine. A hanged man might dangle from a tree branch, his tongue purple; his red face horribly blotched and swollen; his eyes bulging.

A deer might lay at the side of the road, shot, its intestines dripping onto the dirt.

Why did she think some terror awaited her? She hardly remembered her real father and didn’t know how she felt about his disappearance. Yes, he was probably dead. Maybe he had been murdered like Jack and Lisa said he had been. Still a part of her held out hope that he might come back to them some day.

Ezekiel hadn’t taken the place of her real father. Ezekiel had been a friend, a father-figure and a needed influence in her life.

Ezekiel had been kind and patient. Thanks to him she had a Civil War widow’s pension which helped make ends meet. She owned a house, five acres and a small garden. Lisa had a place to stay and so did Jack when he came north. She had a son, and she loved little Louis more than anything.

Life had been good to her, she decided. So why this feeling of impending doom? It was like there might be a bad car wreck around the next bend in the road. Or perhaps an airplane might fall right out of the sky and destroy her home, her sister, and her son.

Vonnie drove her car into her driveway and parked as she always did behind the house.

Jack met with Abe Bernstein at the restaurant. They ordered steaks and whiskey. “I remember when this stuff was hard to get,” Abe said as he sipped his drink.

“You managed.” Jack reminded him. He didn’t believe for a minute that any of the Bernsteins had ever been so poor he couldn’t afford the best.

“So how is the private detective business,” Abe wanted to know.

“It’s not how I make my money,” Jack reminded him. “But it’s good to have an office and rub shoulders with real business men. They give me ideas.”

“Jackie, you are a real business man. So am I.”

“The cops asked me what I knew about the Michigan highway killings.” Jack said. “They ask from time to time. Some might think I was involved.”

“They figure you’re from the Upper Peninsula. You’ve been in prison there. You got connections. You have ways of finding out things.”

“I could be the killer.”

“You can’t be. You ain’t been back there.”

Actually Jack went back often. He needed to keep track of his sisters and Lucinda was expecting his baby though no one else knew that.

Vonnie saw the board wedged against the outside of the the toilet shed. Who had put that there? Why was it there? Had a snake crawled inside? There had been a huge pine snake in the back yard, but Dennis had killed it. Perhaps there was another snake.

As she neared the outhouse, she heard soft weeping. Someone was in there. Lisa? Little Louis? Lisa would not lock the child in here. Yet the crying sounded like that of a baby.

Vonnie tore the board away and swung the door open.

The weeping continued. It sounded like a small lost puppy. Lisa sat in the corner hugging her knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Who did this too you?”

Lisa didn’t answer. Instead she crawled out like a wounded animal might crawl after a severe beating. She crawled away from the stench; her fear followed her. It had been too complete, too overpowering to dismiss in a ray of sunlight.

“Lisa,” Vonnie made her voice as soft as she could despite her own mounting terror. “Where is Little Louis?”

Lisa stopped crawling, turned her thin body around and sat bug eyed for a minute staring into the trees. “He wouldn’t come. I begged him to let me out. After the men went away. When I couldn’t hear their voices anymore. I told him to come and sit by the door and we would wait. But then I remembered. He’s in the playpen. See over there.” Lisa looked over at the empty playpen.

Vonnie sat on the ground beside her. “Where is Little Louis?” she repeated. “Where is my son?”

Lisa looked around as if when she turned her head the child would be there. Then she started screaming.

Vonnie hurried into the house calling for Louis. No answer. She ran through every room. He had to be here someplace.

Then she grabbed the telephone. “Please help,” she cried. When the operator found Dennis’ number, Vonnie frantically told of Lisa’s imprisonment inside the outhouse and of the missing boy.

“Somebody locked her in there, and… and I can’t find Louis.”

“I’ll be right over,” Dennis promised.

“I’ll get the police.” the operator said. She had stayed on the line as operators often did.

At headquarters Miles Olson was waiting for the call.

It was Dennis who found Little Louis. He had Miles call Doc Tracie, so both Lisa and Vonnie could be sedated. Dancing Bear, Dennis’ girlfriend, served Camomile tea with some herbs including valerian.

Dennis didn’t want the women to know he had found little Louis until after Doc Tracie arrived. Miles had other plans. He said he wanted to get their reaction. Dennis pushed Miles away from the house. “You tell those two women they just lost that sweet little boy, and I’m going to break you in two, right here, right now.”

Miles backed away. Dennis was not quite six feet tall, but he was strong from farm work, and Miles believed that he could break a man in two. Anyway Miles saw his dad’s car come into the yard and decided now was not the time. He sure didn’t want a lecture from the old man on how to do police work.

Doc Tracie broke the news to the sisters as gently as he could. After an injection and some more tea. Vonnie settled down. She knew she had to be strong. Lisa sobbed uncontrollably.

“It looks like the little boy wandered over to the creek, and he may have fallen in.” Leo explained.

Lisa started talking in a calm almost hypnotic way. “The men did it,” she said.

Leo thought she had fresh information. Something that would help him find the pranksters who locked her in the outhouse. He had no idea what had really happened to the little boy. But if he caught the kids - it had to be kids - who pulled this prank and locked Lisa in the john - he planned keeping them in the jail on bread and water until they were old enough to get out of town. But surely kids had not killed the little boy.

“The men,” Lisa repeated.

“Who?” Leo asked.

Miles stood in the corner where he was thinking he should have killed her instead of just locking her in an outhouse. He knew he had to reign Sonny in. The man was too violent, and too unpredictable. At least this girl was a known crazy. Whatever she said would be dismissed as crazy ramblings.

Lisa spoke. “The men who wore bed sheets and hoods and they had torches. They did it.”

Leo sighed. Why had he even bothered to start questioning her? “What were they doing with torches in the daylight?” he asked. She could be feigning disorientation and shock. Maybe she had drowned the child herself. There was no telling what a crazy might do.

Lisa looked up at Leo; after a minute, she said, “You were there.”

He stumbled backward. He knew she was talking about that other time. The time her dad was killed. He had removed his hood, and he was sure she saw him. But she had been just a child. What did she remember?

Did she think he had anything to do with what happened to Vonnie’s son?

Doc Tracie said Lisa suffered from the worst case of shock he had ever seen. He considered placing her in a hospital.

“The men are in the yard.” she said.

Miles heart almost stopped. He was more spooked than his dad. Had she seen him and Sonny? She knew it was men, plural who had locked her in the outhouse. She knew some men had been in the yard. Was there a peep hole in the outhouse? What difference did it make? The girl was clearly crazy. She wasn’t making sense.

“What men?” asked Doc Tracie.

“I told you. They are wearing sheets and hoods and Pa said, ‘Don’t let her see.’ Then Pa was swinging and he is dead. They killed him. They came back for Louis. This time they didn’t let me see.”

“Enough,” snapped Leo. “Enough. She’s a lunatic. Always has been.”

Lisa inhaled loudly and stared at him. It was like she could see through Leo. Or she could see him wearing a sheet and pillow case. She saw him as he had looked and acted on a day long ago.

Dr. Tracie looked at the bruises on Lisa’s hands. “She’s been through a lot. The fingernails are clawed almost to the bone. Look in the outhouse. You can see where she clawed at the wood trying to get out.”

“Some kids playing a practical joke,” Miles insisted. “Maybe the drowned Brianka brat out there. Yeah. That’s must have happened. The dumb kid locked her in here and then drowned himself.”

Leo gave Miles a stare that shut him up.

“That was Ezekiel’s ’s little boy, and you will speak of the dead with respect.”

Miles frowned. Everyone knew that kid didn’t belong to the old man.

Leo continued. “Looks like the little boy wandered to the creak and drowned.”

“No.” Lisa shouted. “There were men outside. I heard them talking. And Louis was in his playpen. He couldn’t get out.”

“Get that crazy out of here,” Miles said.

“Accidental drowning,” Leo concluded.

The doctor led Lisa into the room where Vonnie was sleeping thanks to the sedative he had given her. Dancing Bear’s herbs had helped. “Can you stay with her?” Doc asked the Indian woman. He knew Dancing Bear was as dependable and as capable as the best registered nurse. If Vonnie needed care, Danni would know what to do.

Chapter Twelve

Emil and his family packed several picnic baskets with food and then they piled into cars and a truck. When they got to the Cheney place, everyone grabbed a hamper or helped carry one.

There were eighteen Mountain Ridge Mynters including the grandchildren. Emil counted heads as Mary knocked on Ezekial’s door and waited. The women had been up since before dawn cooking.

They brought three cooked turkeys, platters of pork cooked three different ways, six roasted chickens, bowls of mashed potatoes, peas, carrots, corn and squash; four apple pies and a strawberry- rhubarb pie.

Vonnie opened the door and stepped aside. She looked at all the baskets of food. “What are we going to do with all this?” She exclaimed.

“Don’t worry. You’ll need every morsel. Most of the town will turn out for old Ezekial’s funeral. After all, he was the only Civil War veteran left in this town.”

“I don’t know how we can handle it.”

Emil nodded to Dylan. “We’ll set up a barbecue pit in the barn, and that should keep everyone warm out there. We can make serving tables from old boards, cover them with tablecloths.”

“I don’t have enough tablecloths,” Vonnie protested. “Where will I get the boards?”

“We brought all the supplies we’ll need.” Emil nodded to his sons, and they set to work. Emil then turned to Lisa. “You must be the sister-in-law.”

She nodded.

“You think you can help my kids get this show on the road? Dylan, find a chore for this pretty lady.”

Lisa blushed. She had never been called a pretty lady before. She didn’t think she was pretty, but she smoothed her dress and appreciated the compliment.

Emil glanced around and saw little Louis, Vonnie’s son, peaking nervously from beneath the kitchen table. “Who’s taking care of this young man? Dylan that would be you and the pretty lady.”

“My name’s Lisa” she said shyly. “I take care of Louis.”

“He looks like a real handful. Why don’t you let Dylan help you?” Emil walked away, and soon he and Vonnie were directing traffic and finding chores for everyone except Lisa and Dylan.

“Is Louis going to the funeral?” Dylan asked.

“Oh my Gosh, the funeral. I was just about to get ready.”

“Go on,” Dylan said. “I’ll watch Louis.”

“I have to get the him dressed too. Vonnie and I were about to do that.”

“I’ll dress him. Show me where you keep his clothes.”

Lisa led Dylan upstairs. As far as she knew no one had been up there before except family. “That was Ezekial’s bedroom” she said. “You can dress Louis in there. I’ll get some of his clothes.”

“My name is Louis.” The little boy said.

“I have a brother named Louis,” Dylan told him. “He’s outside setting up picnic tables.”

Lisa said, “That’s nice. I mean about you having a brother named Louis. I mean…” She felt frustrated, and she blushed. Dylan was very good looking, and she had been around few people her age since the orphanage. She backed away. “Are you coming to the funeral?” She asked Dylan.

“Dad is. The rest of us would go, but we have to stay here and set things up for a dinner afterward. Like dad said the whole town’ll be here. It’s not everyday we get to bury a Civil War hero.”

Ezekial’s funeral was the first Lisa had attended since her mother’s funeral. Back then she hadn’t understood that her mother was gone. And she had kept waiting for her pa to show up. She had been just a little bit older than little Louis back then.

She would miss Ezekiel. She sat beside Dennis with little Louis between her and Vonnie, and she listened as first the minister and then the mayor and then some state senator droned on and on about the courage of men like Ezekiel Cheney.

After the long services, the coffin was brought outside and lowered into the ground. Vonnie stood at the edge of the grave and wept. Lisa backed away until she stood at the edge of the cemetery. She looked around and noticed her mother’s headstone. She touched the rough granite. Was Martha Brianka’s ghost here watching the ceremony?

Beside Martha’s grave stood that of Louis Almasy.

She knew why they were buried here together slightly away from other graves. Martha had married a Jew; Louis had shot himself. Good Christians would not let such sinners be buried in their midst. Lisa knew that she herself was not a good Catholic. Despite the upbringing at the orphanage, she did not consider herself a Catholic at all.

Then Vonnie picked up little Louis, and they let Dennis drive them home.

As promised, the Mynters had the funeral feast ready. Mary had even brought a guest book for visitors to sign. Back at the farm house, Louis joined about a dozen other children in play. They chased each other around the chicken coup and played endless games of hide and seek. Lisa wanted to play with the children, but Louis seemed to have forgotten her as he laughed and lost his shyness in the presence of other little ones.

Lisa found a corner to be alone. Strangers buzzed around her. She didn’t know them, but they seemed to know about her family.

Bits and pieces of conversation drifted toward her.

“So you think the wife will inherit the farm?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“He was what? A hundred years old. No way did he father that little kid.” “Of course, not. But Louis is his heir. After all, he did marry the mother. Must have been drunk.”

“She probably got him drunk.”

“What gets into an old geezer? Marrying a young girl like that?”

“She’s a Brianka girl.”

“Didn’t they all get ridden out of town?”


 “Their pa did.”

“Should have been on a rail.”

“It was. At least that is what some people say. Some say the pa just high tailed it out of town. Didn’t want a bunch of brats.”

“I heard the pa got himself killed.”

“Should have run the whole lot out of the state.”

“Is the brother - what is his name? - still in prison?”

“He got out. Lord knows where he is now. But he won’t show his face here. That’s for sure.”

“Rinaldi would run him out of town.”

“Why would he care?”

“Brianka had some thing for Lucinda Rinaldi. They were close.”

“I don’t believe it. Not for one minute. What would the likes of Lucinda Rinaldi Davies want with someone like Jack Brianka?”

“Well, she’s married and living in Washington now. Her husband’s big shot senator from one of those fancy families out East. At least things worked out good for her.”

“No way was that girl involved with Jack Brianka.”

“Lucinda was always a sucker for taking in stray animals and giving out handouts to hoboes.” The woman who said that was shaking her head and looking like she just ate something distasteful.

Mary’s husband walked up to him. “What? You don’t like my wife’s cooking?”

Enrico Rinaldi had not gone to the church service, but he had sent flowers to the church. Vonnie hadn’t expected to see Lucinda, but late in the day as other guests were headed for home, Lucinda’s chauffeur drove her new Ford Opera Coupe into the farmyard. The chauffeur wore a beard, and his hat was pulled low, so no one could see much of his face. He opened the car door for his passenger and then stayed beside the car. Lucinda rushed to her friend’s arms.

She wore a black two piece suit with black pearls on the bodice and a kick pleat in front. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she hugged her dad’s maid.

Vonnie had tears in her eyes. “He was so good. He married me when I was pregnant. He never cared who the father was. He left the house to me. He never asked for anything but help with the chores.”

“Ezekiel was a good man,” Lucinda agreed. “None better.”

“Like your dad,” Vonnie said.

“And your brother.”

Vonnie turned away from her friend. How she missed Jack. She dried her eyes and then poured Lucinda a cup of coffee. When Vonnie looked out the window, she noticed one of the Mynter girls was serving the chauffeur lemonade. He kept his head down.

“How long are you in town? Lucinda, everyone has been so worried about you. I have to call your dad now.”

My father and I already talked. In fact, I just came from his house. I didn’t tell him everything, but enough. I’m not going back to Brad. My father has withdrawn all financial support from Brad’s reelection campaign, and he is supporting my decision to divorce Brad.”

“I know how awful he treated you, but he’s so powerful. Will he cause trouble?”

“He had better not.”

“What if he goes to the newspapers? What if he tells reporters that…”

“That I am a Negro. He won’t dare. He’s too afraid of my father and my father’s money. I’ve hired lawyers.”

Vonnie hoped her friend would be all right. She knew how racist people could be. People still sometimes referred to her and to Lisa as Jew brats. “Lucinda, please stay away from Jack. You can protect yourself. But he’s an ex con now.”

“Jack and I are seeing each other.”

“What about your father? He doesn’t want you married to Jack”

“He doesn’t know. I told Father I got a motel room after I left Brad and that I needed to be by myself to think things over.”

“If your dad finds out you were with Jack, he’ll kill Jack.”

“No, he won’t.”

Vonnie shook her head. Enrico Rinaldi certainly wouldn’t want Lucinda seeing his ex gardener. There was too much sadness to talk about Jack just then. “Come out to the barn,” she told Lucinda. “There’s enough food to feed an army. The Mynters brought most of it, but just about everyone brought something. We’ve got every kind of salad and side dish you can name.”

“Heavens, no. My stomach is queasy. It must be the stress of the last few days.”

“ How’s Lisa working out? She hasn’t burned your dad’s house down, has she?


 “She’s just so nervous about everything; she makes father nervous. How soon can you come back?”

“Tomorrow.”

When the back door opened, they both looked that way. The chauffeur took his hat off and Vonnie ran to her brother’s arms.

Jack and Vonnie walked along the gravel road that separated Dennis’s land from hers. Leafy trees provided shade. The sun seeping past the leaves created patterns on the road. A creek bubbled past them.

“Sorry, I couldn’t make the funeral.”

“You can’t be recognized,” Vonnie told him. “Would they throw you back in jail?”

“Most likely they would just escort me to the county line and tell me to keep moving. Unless the sheriff wants to set me up for some new crime. They haven’t caught the Michigan killer yet. Miles would love for it to be me.”

“Miles would shoot you. So would Lucinda’s dad. I’ve got my job to worry about.”

Jack gave a short laugh. “Are you more concerned with losing me or your job?”

“I don’t want to move. It would be hard on Lisa.”

“Stay here. You’ve got this land; you can help Lisa, and she can live here. Mr. Rinaldi won’t blame you for anything I do.”

They walked in silence for awhile.

“Lisa doin’ all right?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s fine.”

“What about the nightmares?”

“She’s better. But still scared.”

“Of what?”


 “Hanged men. Darkness. Do you think our pa was murdered that night?”

“He’s dead, Vonnie. I have it on good authority. A Detroit gang helped cover up the lynching.”

“Then maybe she did see him killed that night?”

He didn’t answer right away. “We can’t change the past,” he finally said.

“So what’s the future? Are you going to marry Lucinda? She loves you.”

“We can’t marry. Her dad is backing her decision to divorce Davies. But he doesn’t know about us.”

“He suspects,” Vonnie said. “You didn’t drive her right up to her father’s house, did you?”

“No. I got out of the car. She took over the wheel and went on alone. I sat at the Yorke cafe while she visited Enrico.”

“So what happens next for Lucinda? Another loveless marriage? She’s such a fine person.”

“Maybe her next husband will be worthy. I just know it can’t be me.”

A week later Vonnie was in the Rinaldi’s kitchen washing breakfast dishes, when Lucinda came in. The senator’s wife was still in her nightgown.

“You didn’t eat much’ Vonnie said. “You want me to make you something else?”

Lucinda shook her head. “I’m pregnant. It’s Jack’s baby. Brad never touched me. Jack was the only one.”

Vonnie hurriedly dried her hands and sat down beside her pretty employer. “What are you going to do?”

“Have the baby, of course, and force Brad to help support it.”

“He’ll know it isn’t his child. He’ll cause a scandal.”

“No, he won’t. Before I left, he told me his mistress was having a baby, and I was to raise it.” Lucinda laughed. “He said I was to be the mammy. He’s announced we are having a baby. The joke will be on him.”

“Maybe you can go to Europe and have the baby secretly, and then you can bring it back and claim it’s a cousin’s baby or that you adopted it. That way Jack stays out of this. No one will know the truth.”

“No one except us. We will know who the father is. And Jack. I can’t keep it a secret from him. He would know anyway. And Brad… And Brad…”

Vonnie took Lucinda’s hand. “Lucinda, I’m scared. This could get Jack killed. You know what happened to my pa.” Vonnie hardly dared think about what had happened to her dad.

“Jack told me,” Lucinda said simply.

The two women clung to each other.

Lucinda had told her dad that she and Brad had never had relations. That had been the truth. She didn’t want to lie to him now, but it was necessary. “There was one time. Just before I left. I guess he thought it would keep this Nigger in her place,” she said.

Enrico stared at her for a long time. She knew he didn’t believe her. “Lucinda, did he rape you?”

“No.”

“Do you want to tell me where you were those weeks after you left Brad.”

She turned away. She didn’t answer. He knows, she thought.

After a long moment, he asked, “Do you want me to call the senator?”

“I’ll do it,” she said.

Lucinda and the senator had unfinished business. She bought a gun and went to Washington herself. She let herself into the spacious home that her dad had rented for them.

Brad would have to pick up the next year’s rent if he could afford it. Her father sure wasn’t paying the bills anymore. She went right to her bedroom where the closets were bare. A black maid followed her into the room. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Davies,” she said.

“What happened to my things?” asked Lucinda. “Do you know?”

“Senator Davies ordered them put out. He took your jewelry. I think he sold it.”

“Okay,” Lucinda said simply. She sat for a minute catching her breath. Then got up to go.

As she started down the stairs, the maid called after her. “Mrs. Davies, wait. Some of your things are still here. We took some of the dresses. They’re so pretty, and we wanted to remember you. I’ll get the dresses.”

“No,” Lucinda said. “Please. Keep them. I don’t want any reminders of my life here.” She hurried the rest of the way down the stairs and almost made it to the door when Brad Davies came home. He dismissed the maid.

“I was leaving, but as long as you’re here, we have business to discuss.”

“I have no business with Niggers,” he said. “Just get out.”

“Don’t you want to tell me about your mistress and the baby I was supposed to be mammy to.”

He didn’t answer. Shades of gray covered his face as if great anger descended on him.

She smiled. “Turns out, Brad. We’ll have a baby, after all. I’m pregnant.”

He gave a brief laugh. “It looks like you got something out of your visit to Jack Brianka. You think I didn’t have you followed? What will your father say? You little tramp.”

“The baby gets your name. Unless you want to tell people you were never a husband to me and why.”

“Just get out.”

“On my way.” she assured him. “I’m not asking for child support. Just the name, Senator.”

With that she hurried out the door. She didn’t feel safe until she was in the hired car and on her way to the airport. Thank heavens it wasn’t his baby that she was carrying.

TO BE CONTINUED: