The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay (12 page)

“I am here today. No yesterdays. I don’t want them.” Maddie looked back toward shore. “The cliffs are so beautiful. The houses so small. Like sad little boxes.”

Avis leaned over and wet her hand. “Feel this.” She clapped it, cold and dripping across Maddie’s forehead.

“Ah, c’est froid!”
Maddie laughed. She held Avis’s icy palm against her face, then dipped her own hand into the cold water and flicked droplets into Dalton’s face and onto Avis’s small brown neck. “We must eat our picnic or the birds will come down and take it. The gulls, they are watching.”

They unwrapped their salt-pork sandwiches and ate, throwing scraps of bread out to the hovering gulls.

“I wish for them I had made pancakes,” Maddie said, watching the birds dart and grab and gulp down the bits they were thrown. “Then they would have full bellies!”

Avis laughed. “But they wouldn’t be able to fly.”

“No.” Maddie laughed, too. “They would drop like stones to the sea. I must have Idella teach me how to cook, I think.”

“You just have to use that cookbook she got from the flour company. Just read the recipes. Cooking’s nothing.”

Maddie looked down at her hands. “I don’t read, you know.”

“You can’t read, Maddie?”

“Not so good.”

“You read that sign Dad put up in the store,” Avis said.

Maddie shook her head. “No. The man at the store was making jokes about the need for one more housekeeper, and I took the sign down when he was not looking. I used it to ask the way to your house.”

“Hell, I’ll teach you to read, Maddie.” Dalton smiled at her. “We just got to find some books, is all.”

“I would like that.” Maddie smiled back at him. “I have never been so happy, Dalton, as I am today.” She leaned forward suddenly and kissed Dalton’s knee. “Thank you for my ride in the boat. For being kind.”

“Wooo-woooo!” Avis shouted. Maddie leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You, too, Petite Avie. You make me happy.”

“Time to head back. The wind’s shifted, and I’ll have to row into it.” Dalton threw a last crust of bread to a waiting gull. They watched the bird snatch it with a jerk and swallow it in one gulp. “Hungry bastard.”

“We are all hungry,” Maddie said, watching the circle of birds above them.

“I’m not,” Avis said, patting her full belly.

“Oh, yes, Avie, you are maybe more hungry than all of us. You will see.”

Dalton grasped the oars and turned the boat toward home.

 

“Whose horse is that?” Idella, still sitting on the seat of the buggy, turned toward the sound of slow, steady hooves approaching. Dad, leading Blackie up to the barn, glanced in the same direction.

“That goddamned fool followed me.”

Idella could tell now that it was the man from the store. Just looking at him, she could smell his sour odor.

“Get down off the wagon, Idella, and go into the house.”

The horse was almost upon them now. The man slowed it to a walk.

Dad stood, his horse now tied and steady, and watched him approach. Idella hovered by the front door but didn’t go in.

The man removed his hat. “Sorry to bother you. Couldn’t help but see which way you was going and thought I’d have a look myself, if you don’t mind, at that cow of yours. Seeing I had boots like yours that got stolen and a cow girl that disappeared on the same day. Too strong not to smell a little.”

“You smell plenty already,” Dad said looking right up at him without blinking or moving.

The man got down off his horse and steadied it. “Mind if I look around?”

“I do.”

“Well, I think I’m going to. I have a need to speak to Madeleine. That’s her name, now, ain’t it? Of your housegirl? She needs to come home with me. She’s got a job to do, and she ain’t doing it if she’s living here.”

“She’s got a job here now, and she likes it fine, so you can just get the hell off my land. I don’t care if you’re her brother, father, or grandpa, too. She’s not going nowhere with the likes of you.”

“You don’t understand. I been feeding her a lot longer than you have. She got dumped on me, and I took care of her. Now she’s at an age where she can do me some good. It’s lobster time, and she’s a prize cracker with them big, strong hands of hers. I bet you know ’bout them hands.” The man smiled at Dad, but it wasn’t friendly. “I’m needin’ the money she gets, to make up for what I’ve spent on her these three years.”

There was suddenly singing coming up over the edge of the cliff. It was Avis and Maddie and even Dalton, singing as they climbed the ladder. “‘Blow, ye winds, in the morning, and blow, ye winds, high-ho!’” Maddie was the first to come into view. She stopped when she saw them.

“Well, look here. A cowbird singing like a sailor.”

“Keep going up, Maddie!” Avis called from below, still out of sight. “Move on up!”

Maddie climbed over the ladder, dropped the basket she’d been carrying, and came on, running and screaming at the man all in a rush.
“Non! Non! Jamais!”

Avis and then Dalton scrambled up over the top. They stood by the barn, frozen at the scene before them. Then Avis started running after Maddie. Dalton caught her by the shoulders and held her back.

“I will not go with you! Get out! Get out!” Maddie’s hands were in fists as she rushed toward the man.

“Whoa, Maddie. Whoa.” Bill ran in front of her and caught her flailing wrists.

“I’ll not go with you! I’ll go to hell first!” Maddie screamed at the man, who stood holding the reins of his horse and laughing as Bill held her back.

“He’s not taking you anywheres you don’t want to go.”

“Ain’t this sweet? You’ve found yourself a little nest to crawl into, Madeleine. Don’t let her fool you, mister. She’s not one of the birdies like you got here flapping their little wings. She’s a liar and a thief.”

“Don’t you call her that, you bastard.” Dalton pushed Avis toward Idella, who was still watching on the porch. He grabbed the pitchfork leaning against the barn. “Get out. Get out of here.”

“Well, well. She’s working ’er way down the line, I see.” The man climbed up onto his horse. “The little man.”

“It was my money for the boots! It was mine!” Maddie pulled away from Bill’s grasp. She was a wild thing, rushing about the yard clawing at the ground for handfuls of dirt she threw at the man.

“You little whore!” He backed up his horse as she ran up at him and clawed at his leg. “Get off me!” He jerked his foot upward and kicked her hard under her chin. Avis and Idella screamed from the porch steps as Maddie covered her face with her arms and sank to her knees.

“I’ll kill you!” Dalton rushed at the man with the pitchfork.

Bill grabbed him by the back of his collar. “Whoa, son. Stop!”

“Let go of me!” Dalton struggled to get free. “I’ll kill him if he hurts her.”

Bill tightened his grip on Dalton’s collar. “No one’s going to kill anyone.”

“You hold that boy steady now.” The man backed his horse up well out of Dalton’s reach. “And you listen to what I have to say. I’m doing you a favor, mister.” He looked down at Maddie. “You stole at the lobster factory, didn’t you, girl?” Maddie lay sobbing on the ground. “Got caught going through pockets.” He looked at Bill. “She’s a goddamned thief.”

Idella clung to the porch post, too afraid to move. Avis stood away from her, watching intently.

“Pretty hankies and hairpins at first. I noticed things but didn’t ask. Then she was caught with her hand in a pocket, holding on to some little girl’s silver dollar. I begged for her, and they let her stay. ’Cause she’s a good cracker.” He laughed. “Good strong hands. Firm and strong, hard-working. That’s my experience. Ain’t that right, Madeleine?”

Maddie would not look up at him.

“I got her to pay me back for the trouble. Made me look bad. I showed her how to help me feel good.” He laughed again. “Took right to it. She’s a slut. Like her damn slut of a mother. Goddamned Frenchie. She showed up one night saying, ‘Remember me? Well, here’s Madeleine, your little daughter,’ she said. ‘I wanted her to meet her father.’ Daughter, hell. Must be fifty men could’ve been that fat cow’s father—and her showing up all these years after. I put them up. ‘One night,’ I said. ‘Then you’re out.’ ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘One night is good.’ That bitch left in the middle of the night. Only she didn’t take everything with her.” He looked over at Maddie. “So I taught her to make coffee for me and fry eggs. And I got her a job in the lobster factory. Lied about her age. She owed me.” He looked down at her again. “She was a slut from birth. Nothing but.”

“Don’t you call her a slop!” Avis suddenly grabbed the slop bucket from off the porch and ran at him from behind. “Don’t you call Maddie nothing! I’ll show you what a slop is.” A wide arc of garbage pelted his hands and shirt. Startled, the horse turned sharply and reared.

“Avis, get away!” Bill let go of Dalton and dragged Avis, kicking and screaming, away from the horse.

“You little bitch!” The man’s shirt was soaked with sour milk, potato peels, lobster bodies, fish heads. He stared at Bill. “You got sluts coming out your ears.” He took hold of the reins with one hand and brushed the garbage from off his front. “You’re working up a one-man whorehouse here, by the look of things.” He glanced down at Dalton, who stood staring back. “Or maybe two, eh, boy?”

“Slops’s too good for a pig like you, mister!” Avis yelled, struggling against Bill’s steadying grip.

“When he’s done diddling, he’ll pass her on to you, boy. There’s lots of nice French girls around. Don’t have to stop with the one you started with.” He turned his horse and looked over at Idella. “And then you got them nice little sisters.”

“Get out of here before I kill you!” Bill’s voice suddenly filled the air. He stood tall and straight, holding Avis around the middle with one arm, her feet dangling in midair. “You goddamned bastard, if you ever set foot near one of these girls again, I’ll have your ass cooked so black the devil will throw you back.”

The horse backed up. “I’m leaving you, mister, with all your baby whores.” He started laughing. “Keep the boots,” he called over his shoulder as he rode out. “You’ll need ’em. She bites.”

Dalton grabbed the pitchfork and rushed after the horse, but the man was already up to the road.

Avis chased after him, spewing out names. “Hog! Slop trot! Goddamned asshole!” When the horse was well past the Doncasters’, she turned and ran back toward the house, skipping and prancing. “We showed him, by God. We got rid of him for you, Maddie!”

“Avis!” Bill stood with his hand on Dalton’s shoulder. “Be still.”

Maddie, her head buried beneath her arms, was a heap of tangled hair and coarse gray fabric splayed on the ground. No one spoke. Dalton still held the pitchfork upright at arm’s length. Idella leaned quietly against the front of the house, in the shadow of the porch. The muffled sound of Maddie’s sobs mingled with the splash of waves far below and the dull thud of now-distant hooves pounding the flat, dry ground.

Avis walked quietly up to Maddie and knelt beside her. She reached over with her small hand. “What’s wrong?” She, too, began to cry. “Now Maddie can stay with us forever. She can be ours.”

Idella came forward across the porch and down the steps. She joined Avis, crouching by Maddie, and put a tentative hand on her back. Maddie raised herself up. Tears smeared her swollen cheeks. “I am dirty. Covered in dirt.”

“No, Maddie. No!” Dalton let go the pitchfork and came over to kneel in front of her. “You’re not dirty. What that man said wasn’t true.”

Maddie shook her head. “I am so dirty and so bad. You don’t know how bad.”

Dalton reached over and brushed off the dirt still clinging to her fingers. “See? It comes right off, Maddie. It’s like dirt on a potato. It comes right off.”

“You’ll be one of us Hillocks.” Avis looked over at her father. “Right, Dad? She’s one of us.”

Bill stood alone, unmoving. For a minute he stared toward the water, at the flat horizon stretching like a gray thread in the distance. Finally he glanced over at the huddled figures. “Birdies,” he said, shaking his head. “A nest full of birdies. Jesus help me.”

He picked up the fallen pitchfork and carried it back to the haystack. He stuck it in harder than it needed and stood with his back to them, holding on to the handle.

 

For a long time that night, Bill sat at the table smoking his pipe. Avis and Idella, lying in their bed, went off to sleep with the familiar smell of his tobacco seeping into their room, settling on their blanket and in their hair. Maddie, who had spoken hardly a word since her father rode off on the horse, sat up on her little bed, aware of the smoke and the occasional pacing from below.

When she was sure the girls were asleep, she quietly rose, reached under her mattress, and carefully pulled out a hidden bundle of clothes. She groped through it until she felt the curves of the small bottle. Unscrewing the top, she poured perfume over a fingertip and smeared it between her breasts, on her forehead and wrists, and on the front of her neck. She ran her fingers through her hair, then replaced the top and pushed the whole bundle back under her mattress. The perfume rose up like a fog from her body. She hesitated a moment, then took the blanket off the bed, wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl, and closed the door behind her. She knew that Dalton was in the barn. She’d seen his light flickering out.

Clutching the blanket, she stepped quietly down the stairs. She stood in the shadows till Bill looked up and saw her. “Maddie.”

“I have come to see you,” she whispered. “To tell you.”

“There’s nothing to say, Maddie. That’s behind you now. You won’t see him no more. I promise.” He paused. “But, Maddie, you can’t be stealing things no more.”

She put her head down. “I was so bad. I am bad.”

“You already stole what hearts there’s here to take.” She looked up, startled. He smiled. “You got to stop.” There was a long moment of silence. Each of them was still, watching the other. Finally Bill spoke. “I’m sending you away, Maddie. I’m going to ask my Emma’s folks to take you on at their farm. They’ve got a big place. Gramma Becky knows all about girls. She had five. You’ll be better off.”