Secret Lives (9 page)

October 3, 1941

I got a terrible shock last night. After I
left the cave I found Daddy sitting on the stoop of the house and I
asked him what he meant, saying Mama wasn't right since I come
along. He was holding the whiskey bottle and he took about five
long swigs before he spoke.

“
Mama weren't your real Mama,” he said.
He went on to explain that Mama had a sister, called Sissy, and
that she was my Mama! She killed herself a few days after I was
born because she wasn't married. Mama took losing Sissy real hard
and Daddy and Mama took me in. “We adopted you,” Daddy said.
“Figured we'd bring you and Kyle up brother and sister.”

“
You're not my real Daddy,” I
said.

“
I'm your Daddy every way but one, girl,
and don't you go thinking anything else.” He was part angry and
part sad and I thought I better not ask him any more
questions.

At first I wasn't going to tell Kyle. But
last night I was crying in bed and just couldn't stop and he came
over and put his arms around me. He thought I was crying about
Mama. But then I told him what Daddy told me and he kept saying,
“It can't be true, it can't be.” But I said I knew it was. I was
holding onto him tight because I was afraid he'd start to feel
different about me and maybe never hug me again. But then he said,
“Kate, I don't care who your Mama was, you'll always be my
sister.”

October 20, 1941

Daddy talks more these days. At the dinner
table when he's done eating, he pushes his chair back and talks
about the mill, or work that needs doing round the house. Mostly he
talks about Mama and I am surprised how much he misses her. I think
it is not really the Mama I knew that he misses, but the woman she
used to be long ago, before I come along.

“
She was so beautiful,” Daddy says,
looking out the window. “And she could sing.”

I try to picture Mama singing but it's
impossible.

“
Dance too,” he says and smiles. “I bet
you never thought your Ma could dance. She was like a winged angel
on the dance floor, free and light. Always smiling, she was.” Daddy
looked down at his empty plate and I tried to recall the last time
I saw Mama smile. I couldn't.

“
What was my Mama like, Daddy?” I
asked.

“
Sissy? Pretty as a flower petal. All the
boys liked your Mama, which was part of the problem, I reckon. She
was shamed when she had you, not being sure who your pa was and
all. People was mean to her. Guess she didn't think she had much of
a life left after that. But Mama wanted to take you in. She wanted
babies more than anything,” Daddy said. “When you was born, Kyle,
she'd cuddle you and kiss you and sing to you. She felt fine. She
was up right away after you was born, happy as ever I seen her.
Eyes glowing all the time. She'd take you to the market to show you
off. Then when Sissy kilt herself and you come to us,” Daddy said
and looked at me, “she took sick. Something in her chest. I thought
at first that was the reason for her mood. She'd be up all night,
coughing. That was your lullaby, Kate, Mama's cough. She didn't
have the strength to hold you much. Then she started seeing things
that wasn't there, imagining things. I thought it was cause she
weren't sleeping enough. She just changed from night to day. She
took no pleasure in Kyle, neither, after that.”

“
I'm sorry, Daddy.” I could hardly look
at him.

“
No, Kate,” he said. “Don't go blaming
yourself. Maybe it was having to look after two babies so close in
years, right on top of her sister's passing. Too much at one time
for anybody.”

Daddy stood up and took his plate to the
basin and I stood up too, wanting to get to my cave where I knew I
would feel instantly better. Daddy turned to look at me.

“
Don't know where it is you spend all
your time, girl,” he said.

I just looked at him, my insides
churning.

“
You safe there?” he asked.

“
Yes, Daddy.”

“
Go on, then.”

I feel so sad tonight. There was a woman who
was my mother that I never knew. Pretty as a flower petal and
shamed by my birth. And Mama. Seems like she was a normal mother
before I came along. A happy cheerful person. I guess I ruined two
women's lives.

December 1, 1941

Miss Crisp thinks I am a good writer, just
like Mrs. Renfrew did. I wrote a story about a girl who discovered
a treasure (precious jewels) in a cave and Miss Crisp read it out
loud to the class. She reads in a breathy voice with pauses in
places I would never think to pause and it makes my little story
sound like poetry. I got real nervous when she read it and could
hardly breathe. Then she said, “You have bona fide talent,
Katherine.” She pronounced bona fide “bona fi-dee” and everyone
turned to look at me. I heard Sara Jane whisper something to
Priscilla and Priscilla giggled. I hate Priscilla. When school
started this year she asked me why I cut my hair off. She said it
was the one pretty thing about me and I went and did away with it.
I know I am the ugliest girl in the class. They all have long hair
and they wear ribbons in it and Sara Jane has dimples that Kyle
keeps bringing up in conversations that have nothing to do with
anything. When he talks like that, admiring Sara Jane or some other
girl, I feel about to have a heart attack. Truly there is a pain in
my chest and one day I'm going to drop dead away at his feet.

Kyle sits in my cave at night (we wrap up in
blankets now because it's right chilly, though warmer in the cave
than out) and asks me who do I think is prettiest? Who's nicest?
This is all Kyle thinks about these days. Sometimes lately Miss
Crisp will call on him and he has no idea what she's asking him
about because he is so busy staring at the black braids running
down Lucy's back.

We are all changing in that class. Our
bodies, I mean. Getch's forehead is covered with pimples. William
has fine black hair on his upper lip. Sara Jane's breasts have
grown so big that the buttons of her blouses stretch the
buttonholes. I have come to realize that breasts are very powerful
things. Kyle sometimes turns to jelly when he stares at Sara Jane's
breasts, which is often and even I have felt the power of my own
breasts. They are much smaller than Sara Jane's but if I pull my
shoulders back when I walk past Getch or William I can feel their
eyes on me and I know I have power over them. Also, when this
happens, I feel an odd tingling in my breasts like Getch and
William's eyes are actually touching me. Sometimes my breasts ache
to be touched, and sometimes in bed at night after Kyle's asleep, I
touch them myself. I am amazed that anything can feel so good.

This is all very much on my mind tonight
because of a talk Kyle and I had earlier here in my cave. Kyle is
by far the handsomest boy in our class. He is tall—just fifteen and
already near six feet. His hair is very straight and thick and
always shiny and his teeth are beautiful and white (I have the same
teeth). He is broad acrost the shoulders and wearing Daddy's shirts
now.

Anyhow, tonight he asked me if sometimes at
school I tried to imagine how the boys look without their clothes
on! I said “No!!! Why would I want to make myself sick?”

Then he looked worried and I realized he was
imagining how Sara Jane and Lucy looked naked and he thought he
wasn't normal. Is he? Is that normal? I don't know.

I heard Sara Jane and Priscilla talking
about their “friend” and I know they mean ministration. I wish I
could ask them questions about it because I still don't understand
the purpose of this monthly misery, but as soon as they figured I
was trying to listen in on their conversation, they stopped
talking.

December 7, 1941

The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor today.
Before today I'd never heard of Pearl Harbor. I know about the
war—everyone does, but I never realized we were in any danger. All
day that's all anyone is thinking or talking about and Daddy sits
quietly by the radio, just listening. The president will ask for a
declaration of war. We are in it now.

When I reread all the silly things I wrote
the other day, about breasts and ministration, I wish I could erase
it all. It seems so unimportant when you think that people are
dying, that many more people will probably die before it's over.
Kyle says he wants to fight. He is only fifteen! Daddy says he's
got to finish school first, but that's two years away and surely
this won't go on that long. I'm hoping it's over by Christmas.

January 6, 1942

I went to school drunk yesterday. I don't
have a good reason why. I just wanted a taste of Daddy's whiskey
and didn't stop when I should of. I stayed all night before last in
the cave, drinking and reading Jane Austen, wrapped up in my quilt.
It was warm in there compared to outside. Kyle came to get me for
school but I told him I was too tired, to go on without me. Then I
showed up later. I thought maybe the walk would sober me up, but it
didn't. I took my seat and Miss Crisp said, “Katherine, are you
ill?” and Priscilla said, “No, she's drunk. Can't you smell
her?”

I said, “You smell all the time” to
Priscilla. Then I said to Miss Crisp, “I don't believe Priscilla
ever takes a bath.”

Priscilla started crying and Sara Jane said,
“You are so rude and disgusting” to me and Getch said, “Hey, Kate,
you got any more of that stuff for me?” and Miss Crisp started
walking towards me. All I could see was her big head getting closer
and closer. Suddenly Kyle yanked me out of my seat by my arm and
dragged me outside. He pushed me against the wall of the building
and held me there.

“
What are you trying to do?” he yelled at
me.

I couldn't speak. His hands pressed my
shoulders into the wall and his hips touched mine and I felt real
dizzy.

“
How do you ever expect to make friends
with anyone when you do things like this?”

“
I don't need friends,” I said. “I've got
you as my friend.”

Kyle backed away from me like I'd sprouted
thorns all over me. “I'm glad I'm not your brother,” he said. He
might as well have hit me, but then his voice went real quiet. “Go
home,” he said. “Can you get there all right? Do you need me to
walk you?”

I shook my head, feeling ashamed. I made a
promise to myself right then and there I will never do anything
like that again. I won't embarrass him again in front of the other
children. I won't make him ashamed to be my brother.

June 6, 1942

Getch's older brother Pete, who lives in
Washington, is home for a visit and took us (Getch, Kyle and me) to
the library in Winchester. I wasn't going to go, one, because I
don't like going into town—it makes me real nervous for some
reason—and two, because of Getch being along, but the library! How
could I resist?

I felt funny being the only girl. Pete who
is twenty three years old and more handsome than Kyle (in a way)
said he was pleased to have such pretty company in his car and “I'm
not talking about my brother or yours,” he said to me. I don't
think there's a person in the world who has ever called me pretty
and at first I thought he was making fun of me but I could see by
the look on his face that he meant it. Pete left us at the library
and drove off to do some errands. I left the boys and the first
thing I looked up was menstruation. (I have been spelling that word
wrong for a long time.) It was also the last thing I looked up
because I got so interested in what I was reading that I never got
around to anything else.

There were pictures in the book and
explanations and now I know exactly why I bleed each month. I am
amazed that my body knows to do this and that someday a baby could
grow in my uterus. I only wish I didn't have to have a husband to
make that happen.

On the drive home I found myself staring at
Pete's trousers, remembering what Kyle said about imagining the
girls at school without their clothes on. I was amazed I was doing
it too. I was too obvious though because when we got to our house,
Pete chased Getch and Kyle out of the car and then he took my hand
and set it right on the bulge in his trousers and said, “Is this
what you want?”

I pulled my hand away and tried to open the
door but he caught my arm and the next thing I know his hand was up
my skirt, his fingers pressing hard between my legs. The shameful
thing is that I wanted to hold his hand there instead of pushing it
away, but luckily pride got the better of me and I set my mouth to
his shoulder and bit him hard til he let go of me. I got out of the
car and ran all the way to my cave where my legs almost gave out on
me. I was shaking all over. I kept thinking about my Mama. My real
Mama, how she was loose with the boys. For the first time I can
understand how a girl could come to be that way.

I lit just the one candle on the ledge near
the reflecting pool. Then I undressed in the cool darkness of my
cave and lay down under the quilt on my mattress and touched myself
where he had touched. My fingers seemed to know what to do, and
very quickly a feeling came over me, like the river rushing towards
the falls. And then I cried out, my voice a surprise to me as it
echoed around my walls. I hoped nobody could hear me. They would of
thought I was in pain, but it was not like any pain I ever felt
before.

June 7, 1942

Kyle and I were studying for our exams last
night in the cave when I realized he was staring at me. When I
asked him why he was looking at me that way, he said, “You are
pretty. I never noticed til Pete said it. But you are.”

–
8–

Eden got out of bed before her alarm rang and
pulled on her robe. No use lying awake staring at the ceiling any
longer. Her mind was too full to let her sleep anyway. She wished
she could call Cassie, but it was far too early. She walked
downstairs and stood at the glass wall of the living room, watching
the forest change from gray to green as the sun rose from behind
the trees.