Final Rights (14 page)

“I’ll take that as an invitation!” Tate said
goodbye and made her way back to her truck. It had been a long, emotional day,
and she wanted a nap more than almost anything. But on the way home, she took a
circuitous route past 305 Chestnut Street.

“I won’t give up!” she yelled out at the
house as she cruised by slowly. At the same moment, she noticed an approaching
pedestrian who gave her a quizzical look.
Now
all the neighbors will think I’m a nut case. I really should learn when to keep
my mouth shut!

She spent the evening preparing turkey
chili, which she devoured while watching her favorite TV show,
Wheel of Fortune
, followed by more television, dessert and a
bedtime snack. In the back of her mind, she also thought through her eventful
day.

Her social network had expanded
significantly. Ruby would be a good friend, she was sure of that, and she would
take the truck to Price Automotive for any work it needed in the future. Leland
Howard would be on her schedule as often as he would permit, and she fully
intended to visit Mr. Price again as well.
I can’t get lost in all this. I’ve got to get the
renovation next door done, find new tenants . . .

She dropped into bed at 10 p.m. and
descended into intricate, Technicolor dreams about travel to non-existent
foreign countries, puzzles that needed solving but had no apparent solution and
a fluffy brown dog that kept showing up in the most unlikely places.

TWENTY-THREE

1940

“I
ain’t about to do it,” Leland said. He kicked a loose stone with the toe of his
boot, keeping his eyes cast to the side and his thumbs tucked into the back
pockets of his overalls. His rigid posture sent a clear message that he had no
intention of budging.

“I need you, Leland.”
Harland kept his voice firm. Stooping to saying he needed someone humiliated
him. Saying it to Leland made it even more aggravating, given that the roots of
their fractured relationship went so deep.

“Nope.” Leland’s flat affect barely cloaked
his anger.

“I’ll pay you a bonus. You’re the best
woodworker in the region for doors, and I really want you to do this for me.”
Harland pressed on, determined to win this battle of wills.

“Nope,” Leland repeated. “I ain’t about to
do it.” He turned and quietly continued on his way home where he had been
headed when Harland had stopped him.

Harland watched his retreat, his mind
rushing furiously as he schemed how he would change Leland’s mind. He didn’t
want to do it, but he had one more idea about how he might be able to get what
he wanted.

Harland
Freeman did not believe in heaven, and that was a relief. Because if you don’t
believe in heaven you don’t believe in hell either, and most people would send
him straight to hell for what he planned to do. It took longer than he hoped,
but he forced himself to remain patient and vigilant. At some point she would
pass his store and he would find a way to talk to her privately. Usually when
she shopped she had the boy with her, and that would cause a problem. He had to
talk to her alone, ideally not even to be seen with her.

Eventually, Harland got his wish. Ellie
walked by as he rearranged the store’s window display, no boy in sight. He
followed her down the street and cornered her in an aisle at the fabric shop,
sheltered by the tall stacks of wool, cotton and gabardine.

“Ellie.”

Even though she had not spoken with him
since their ill-fated encounter in the park so many years ago, she recognized
his voice immediately and whirled around to face him. She stiffened as he
stepped close to her.

“What do you want, Harland?” Had Harland
been a man in touch with his feelings, he might have felt hurt by the chilling
tone of her voice.

“I want Leland to make the door for my new
house over in Montford,” Harland said. His thin attempt to disguise his
boastfulness failed miserably.

“Really, now why would you want him to do
that?”

“He’s the best woodworker in the region,”
Harland stated matter-of-factly, “and I want only the best.”
 

“Did you ask him?” Ellie assumed Harland had
not approached Leland directly.

“Yes, and he said ‘nope.’” Everyone in town
knew when Leland put his mind to doing something, or not doing it, there was no
going back.

“Then the answer is ‘nope,’” Ellie said. “I
can’t change his mind.”

“I think you can,
Ellie.” Slipperiness had seeped into Harland’s voice, and she felt a wave of
nausea passing over her. She had first-hand experience with Harland’s caginess,
and she knew she wouldn’t like what came next.

“It’s for the boy’s
sake, Ellie. I see how fast he’s growin’ up now. Must be thirteen or fourteen,
right? I know you and Leland both want what’s best for him.” Harland’s mouth
curled into the slightest smirk.

What a despicable man. How could I ever
have . . .

“You want what’s best for the boy, don’t you
Ellie?”

“Are you threatening me, Harland?”

“No, of course I’m not meaning to
threaten
you, Ellie.” Harland held her gaze, conveying
through his eyes the truth while continuing to speak his lie. “I’m just saying
. . . we wouldn’t want him to have a hard time in life, would we? If people
knew the truth . . .”

The use of “we” made
Ellie’s stomach turn again. She had been in tight spots before, once because of
this same man. She had persevered that time, and she would do so again. The
strength of her shame fell far short of the power of her indignation, and in
that moment she knew exactly how to assuage the humiliation she had suffered at
the hands of Harland Freeman.

She placed her hand on
the bolt of fabric closest to her and stretched to her fullest height, feet
planted firmly. She tipped her chin up slightly, narrowed her gaze and looked
her adversary straight in the eye.

“You are a despicable man, Harland, but I’ll
get that door for you. I only hope you’re prepared to pay what it’s gonna cost
you.”

“I thought you’d see it
my way . . .” Harland’s smugness waned quickly as the full impact of Ellie’s
message began to sink into his awareness. He shuddered as the coldness in her
eyes and her menacing tone gripped him.

“. . . what do you mean?” The fear in his
voice sent a wave of pleasure through Ellie and she smiled at him for the first
time since he walked away from her in the park so long ago. She held eye
contact and waited. His breathing became shallow. Ellie stood firm as he began
fidgeting.

“What do you mean? I told Leland I’d give
him a bonus . . .”

“It’s not what you’ll be paying Leland.
You’ll pay him what he asks and not a penny less, and he won’t take a penny
more. It’s what you’ll be paying me that you’re not gonna like.”

Beads of perspiration
broke out on Harland’s broad forehead and the bridge of his pocked, bulbous
nose.

This is wonderful!
He’s actually afraid of me. Maybe I’ll wait ‘til he cries!
Ellie knew this time
she, not Harland, would be the one getting exactly what she wanted. So she
released him with the demand he meet her that evening to finalize her plan.

After dinner, Leland and
Clayton went to the workshop while Ellie set out for her evening walk. She
headed straight to the park and positioned herself behind a clump of
rhododendrons where she could watch for Harland. He arrived on time for this
encounter, looking around furtively as he approached the meeting spot under the
tree.

He’s got some
demons following him, and I’m one of them!
Ellie took great delight in this risky
venture. It may have hatched itself in the aisle of the fabric shop earlier
that day, but she knew it had been brewing in her subconscious ever since
Harland abandoned her and their child a lifetime ago. Until that moment today,
though, she never knew how she would even the score with him. After making him
wait almost fifteen minutes, she sauntered into the park herself.

“You’re late . . .”

“I’ll do the talking, Harland. Sit down.” As
she issued the command, Ellie took a seat on the small bench at the base of the
tree, forcing him to find a perch on the ground. This gave her a big advantage
and increased his discomfort considerably.

“Surely you remember this place. ’Course
there was no bench or swing back then, but it’s pretty much the same otherwise,
don’t you think? You were very happy to see me the last time we were here,
weren’t you?”

“Ellie, I should have . . .”

“Like I said, Harland, I’ll do the talking.
I used to care about what you should have done, but I got over it. I’ve made a
good life for myself, no thanks to you. But now you come to me wantin’
something more. You’re a greedy, contemptible man. You think the world owes you
something you haven’t earned. You demand respect from others even when you give
them none in return.”

Harland did everything
he could to be indignant. How dare this woman speak to him in such a manner?
But it didn’t work. He hung his head as she continued.

“You could have had something good. We could
have been a family. At least I used to think so, until I saw who you really
are. I don’t pretend to know what it was like for you growin’ up with Crazy
Eulah as your mother. But you’re an adult and you’ve continued on a bad path
when you didn’t have to.”

“Ellie, I . . .”

“People laugh at you, Harland. Behind your
back they call you a buffoon. Still, you’re an important businessman here in
town, so they show you respect to your face. That’s the most you’ll ever get
from them, no matter how fancy a house you build.”

She studied him as she ranted on. She felt
her own power, but also the meanness behind it.
I’m not a mean person. I’m just angry. I have a right to be
angry. I have a right to get something out of him.

“Here.” She handed him a folded paper along
with a notepad and pen. “You’ll copy those words in your own hand and sign your
name to it. That’s what the door you want so bad is gonna cost you.”

Harland read the note and looked up at Ellie
in disbelief. “You can’t be serious . . .”

“Oh, I’m plenty serious, Harland. You want
Leland to do that work? Then you copy that out just like I wrote it.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m gonna hide it away in a very special
place. If you ever so much as speak to me again, or to my boy, you’ll see what
I do with it then. Leland will do the work for you. Then you will never speak
to
him
again either. That note’s my insurance
policy you’ll keep your word.”

“How’ll you get Leland
to do the work? He said no.”

“I got him to marry me when he barely knew
me. He’s stayed with me all this time. I’ve got some sway with him you wouldn’t
understand.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

“Common sense, Harland, not that you’ve got
a lot of it. The truth could ruin me, too. You’ll have to trust I’ll keep the
secret, just like I’ve done all these years. I guess your decision rests on
just how bad you want Leland to do your work.”

The solace of Harland’s dreams for himself,
and now for his perfect home and all it would bring him, had comforted him
greatly throughout his life with its many difficulties and disappointments. It
did not fail him now. How could he know for sure all those dreams and plans
would turn out as he hoped? He couldn’t, but giving them up would leave him
bereft. With a deep sigh of resignation, he picked up the pen and wrote the
note.

Ellie took it from him and rose from her
seat. She fixed him with her gaze before turning and heading home, this time
leaving him under the tree, shocked and confused, to fend for himself.

One chapter of their lives now closed while
another opened. Neither had any notion of what they had conceived that day.

TWENTY-FOUR

2004

The
time 9:47 glowed green from the clock radio as Cally slowly opened her eyes.
The sunlight streamed into her room at the Princess Hotel, filling it with
warmth and hope.

“Damn,” she hissed as she looked at the
clock. “I can’t believe I slept so long.”

She sat up, feet not touching the floor as
she perched atop the high, old-fashioned bed.
No wonder . . . what a comfortable bed!
She stroked the silky soft sheets. The
luxurious mattress and down pillows tempted her to slide into the soft warmth
and drift back to sleep. But, she had things to do. She would dedicate her
first day in Asheville to finding her Gamma’s house. Gamma Ellie and Gampa
Leland probably didn’t live there anymore, but she would find the house and
then figure out what to do from there.

Gamma and Gampa. She
chuckled at the names she had given them as a little girl unable to pronounce
the letter “r.” Love and protection had surrounded Cally in their house, and
her memories of the place brought her as close as she could come to what she
imagined home to be like. Maybe the people weren’t there, but surely the house
remained, and she intended to see it again.

She took a shower, brushed her hair and
climbed into clean jeans and a lightweight shirt. Shaking the wrinkles out of a
jacket pulled from her suitcase, she headed downstairs. She scavenged a cup of
coffee and a muffin from the remains of the breakfast buffet as the waiters
cleared the dining room. Skimpy, but it would hold her until she decided what
to do for lunch.

Asheville had changed greatly since Cally’s
mother spirited her away in the middle of the night all those years ago. Now
she found it difficult to figure out where she needed to go. She remembered she
and her mother had lived on Starnes Street and her grandparents’ house stood
close by. After some maneuvering around the new highway, she found her way to
the corner of Starnes and Flint and parked the car. She would walk from here,
she decided, retracing the path she had known by heart as a child.

F
inding
her way proved to be much more difficult than she could have imagined. Many of
the landmarks she had used as a child had vanished. It took her several minutes
to realize the huge blue tarp on the corner covered a crumbling foundation—all
that remained of the old grocery store. After more intense scrutiny, she
finally found her childhood home, now nearly unrecognizable. Had it not been
for the stone wall bordering the sidewalk, she would have missed it. The sparse
lawn where she had once played sported a maze of flowers and decorative plants
laced with a beautiful brick walkway ending at a small fountain with water
spurting from the mouth of a mermaid.

How pretty!
She turned away, then suddenly flashed back
on the last time she left the little bungalow.

“Come
on. Get your things packed now!” The hard, demanding edge in Rita’s voice
scared Cally.

“But I don’t want to,” wailed Cally, her
tiny face covered with streaming tears. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Get going now!” yelled Rita.

“But, Mommy, I want to stay with my friends
and with Gamma and Gampa!”

“Calliope Ann. Do what I say right now.
Gamma’s gone and we’re going too. We can’t stay here no more.” At 7 years old,
Cally had known for a long time that when her mother invoked her full name,
fighting back would be a hopeless cause. She stifled her tears as much as she
could and slowly started putting her favorite things into her little suitcase.

“Where’s Gamma, Mommy? Why can’t I see her?”

“She’s gone, Cally, I told you.” Rita’s tone
softened a bit. “She . . . oh . . . she’s just gone.”

“But I want to see her!” Cally began wailing
again.

“She’s gone, Cally. You can’t see her. Now
pack!”

“Then I want to see Gampa . . .” Cally
pressed on hesitantly.

“No, Cally. We have to leave now. Pack, or
we’ll leave everything behind.”

Cally returned to the task, picking up her
chisels and the pieces of wood she had learned to carve under her grandfather’s
watchful eye. “There’s no room for that junk,” yelled her mother, tossing it
all onto the floor. “Just pack some clothes and two of your favorite toys.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Cally spoke quietly and kept
her eyes cast down. When Rita left the room, Cally quickly picked the chisels
and wood up and stuffed them under her clothes in the suitcase. She had no
choice about going, but she would not leave her most precious belongings
behind.

Less than an hour later, her mother pulled
the packed car away from the curb and headed west.

Cally pulled herself out of the memory and refocused on
getting her bearings and finding her grandparents’ house. She walked down to
the next block, turned left and walked two blocks more. Some familiar details
on the houses along the street convinced her she headed in the right direction,
but the street then came to a dead end just before she expected to find the
house on the next block. Instead, she faced a steep landscaped slope with a
chain-link fence at the top, behind which the traffic on I-240 zipped by.

It had never occurred
to Cally the house might no longer be there. In her mind and heart it
represented permanence and love, belonging and hope. She had waited more than
40 years to come home again, and now she realized, with a sickening feeling,
home had disappeared.

Cally stared ahead in
disbelief. She lost all sense of her body and felt herself enveloped in a thick
cloud. She tried to shake off the feeling by forcing herself to breathe deeply
into her diaphragm. Her head spun and she heard ringing in her ears. Then she
realized the ringing came from the church bells at St. Lawrence, the same bells
her grandmother had used to teach her to count when she was a tiny child. The
thought of her grandmother made her heart ache and she burst into tears. She
sat down on the curb, wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed in despair.

Cally spent the rest of
the day in a blur. She wandered around the neighborhood, deep in thought. She
found her way to the shopping mall where she aimlessly strolled past the many
window displays, doing little more than passing time. She managed to eat part
of her lunch at an Indian restaurant and declined taking the leftovers with her
when she paid her bill.

Eventually she went
back to the hotel where she dropped into the comfortable bed and fell into a
deep but turbulent sleep. She dreamed all night. About whittling little sticks
of wood with her grandfather. About eating homemade applesauce in Ellie’s
sweet-smelling kitchen, and settling into Ellie’s arms for a story before
naptime. About huddling in the back seat of a car hurtling its way to
California in the dark of night. And about so many other snippets of her
childhood she feared she might be going mad. Were they memories or dreams?
Maybe both. It didn’t matter. Cally spent the night wrestling with the past
and despairing of the future.

“I love you Cally.” Ellie’s voice rang out
clearly. Cally woke with a start and looked about the room. No one in sight. “I
love you. You’ll be fine.” Ellie’s voice again, and so clear, so real.

“Gamma?” Cally tried to pull herself fully
into wakefulness. “Gamma? Is that you?”

And Cally realized the voice came from deep
within, from the place in her heart where Ellie had always lived and always
would live. Her tears fell softly as she nuzzled into the pillow, remembering
the softness of Ellie’s breast, the encircling arms and the warm sweet breath
against her hair as she said again “I love you Cally. You’ll be fine.”

Hours later, Cally woke, refreshed and with
a lightness of heart she found surprising.
I’ll be fine, just like Gamma said.
And she headed out for a new day of
exploration.