The Unloved (15 page)

Toby’s eyes followed Jeff’s, but it took a moment before he, too, spotted the rabbit.

And another moment before he realized why the rabbit wasn’t moving. “Wait!” He yelled, but it was too late.

The ominous buzz of a rattlesnake hummed in the air, and Jeff froze, only his eyes moving as he searched for the source of the warning rasp.

It was only three feet away, a large, pink timber rattler, its thick coils wrapped tightly, its head bobbing dangerously as the rattle on its tail quivered with menace.

“Don’t move!” Toby warned. “That’s why the rabbit was holding still. If you don’t move, it can’t see you!”

“But … what are we going to do?” Jeff whimpered. His knees felt weak and he was sure he was going to collapse any second.

“I’ll get someone,” Toby said. “But if you move, he’ll kill you for sure!” Leaving Jeff alone with the writhing creature, he turned and dashed up the driveway toward the house, screaming for help. The back door slammed open just as Toby got to the steps, and Kevin emerged.

“A snake,” Toby screamed. “A big rattler’s got Jeff down by the garage. Quick, Mr. Devereaux. Quick!”

Racing past the terrified boy, Kevin hurtled down the driveway to the garage, pausing only to snatch up a rusty shovel that leaned against the wall just inside its open door. A second later he found his son, still rooted to the spot, his face pale, his whole body trembling with fright.

“It’s okay,” Kevin said. “I’m here now, and it’s going to be okay. Just stay still, Jeff. Can you do that?”

Jeff, too terrified even to speak, said nothing.

Kevin circled slowly around until he was behind the snake, then began approaching it, moving slowly and carefully, trying to make no sound that would alert the serpent to the danger from the rear. Step by step he drew closer, his eyes locked on the weaving head of the snake, which still stared at Jeff, its tongue flicking in and out as it tried to locate its prey.

Kevin raised the shovel, poising it to strike the moment he was close enough.

His foot came down on a twig, which snapped loudly. The rattler twisted and struck instantly, and Kevin leaped aside, bringing the shovel down with all the force he could muster. The blade of the shovel sank into the earth just as the snake’s head struck it, and Kevin could feel the vibration of the blow as it came up the handle. Only slightly stunned from the impact, the snake recoiled, preparing to strike again. But this time Kevin was faster.

The blade of the tool sliced through the snake’s body just behind its head, and the creature collapsed in mid-strike, its coils thrashing on the ground for a moment before it died.

Jeff, screaming, threw himself into his father’s arms.

“It’s all right,” Kevin told him. “You’re okay, and the snake’s dead. It’s all over.”

“It was going to kill me, Daddy,” Jeff sobbed. “I didn’t even see it. It was just there!”

“I know,” Kevin told him. “That’s the way they are. You have to keep your eyes open all the time and make sure you look before you take a step. But you’re okay.”

Anne appeared around the comer of the garage, stopping short when she saw the still twitching remains of the rattler. “My God,” she breathed, her eyes wide with horror. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Kevin assured her. “Jeff just ran into a snake, but he did exactly the right thing. In fact,” he added, “I probably didn’t even need to kill it. In another few seconds it would have lost interest and gone away. It was probably more frightened than Jeff.”

Anne stared at Kevin indignantly. “How can you say that? It could have killed him!” She gathered her son into her arms and held him close. “Honey, are you all right?”

Jeff nodded, and wriggled out of his mother’s arms. Now that it was over and the danger had passed, he was fascinated with the snake’s body. “Can I keep it, Dad?” he asked, poking at the six feet of rattler with a stick.

Kevin chuckled, and used the spade once more to cut off the rattles. “Take those—when I was your age, I must have had a couple dozen of ’em.”

“Awesome,” Jeff said. He squatted down, gingerly picked up the rattle, then shook it.

There was a slight buzzing sound, and Jeff dropped the rattle as if it were red-hot, then self-consciously picked it up again. “You got one of these?” he asked Toby, who was standing a few yards away.

Toby nodded. “I have five. And one of ‘em’s even bigger than that.”

“Really?” Jeff asked, his voice filled with awe. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” Toby replied.

“When? Now?”

But before Toby could reply, Anne intervened. “Not now,” she said. “Right now, I think you’d better both go in the house.”

“Aw, Mom,” Jeff began, but Anne shook her head.

“Maybe you’re all over this, but I’m not. And until I am, I want you where I can see you, all right?”

Knowing better than to argue with her, Jeff started toward the house, Toby trailing along behind. Anne, though, stayed where she was, staring at the snake with revulsion. Finally, she met Kevin’s eyes.

“How did you stand it?” she asked. “How can anyone stand it? The heat, the alligators, the mosquitoes, and now this!”

Kevin only shrugged. “Except for the alligators, what’s so different than home? We get some pretty awful heat, and in case you didn’t know it, we have rattlers too.”

Anne’s mouth fell open. “Oh, come on, Kevin—”

“But it’s true,” Kevin insisted. “There are timber rattlers all over the east. The only reason we don’t see so many of them is because of all the development. And it wouldn’t take much to clean them out of here.”

Anne’s eyes narrowed and a frown creased her forehead. “Clean them out? What are you talking about?”

Before Kevin could say anything, there was a loud honking, and they turned to see Kerry Sanders’s car roaring down the dirt road from the causeway, a plume of dust spewing up behind him. It was when he slammed the brakes on as he reached the front of the house that they realized something was wrong.

Hurrying up the drive, they reached Kerry’s car just as he was helping Julie out of the passenger seat.

Her face was pale, and her hair, a stringy mass of tangled locks, hung limply over her shoulders.

Anne stared at her daughter in shock. “Julie? Are you all right?”

Julie nodded, but wrapped a towel around herself. “I’m all right. I just got knocked over by a wave and started choking.”

“Knocked over?” Anne repeated, her voice rising, “Honey, you look like you almost drowned.”

“It’s not that bad—” Julie started to object, but Kerry cut her off.

“It was pretty bad. She got hit by two waves, but I got to her in time. She’s okay, but she says she’s cold—”

“Shock,” Kevin said. “Come on, honey, let’s get you into bed and warmed up.”

Anne stared at her husband. How could he take it so lightly? First a rattler threatened Jeff, and now Julie was brought home half drowned! And he was acting as if nothing had happened! What would it take for him to see that the best thing they could do was simply pack up their clothes and go back where they belonged? She opened her mouth, about to speak her mind, then suddenly thought better of it. Later, when they were alone and Julie was over the worst of her
fright, she would talk to Kevin about it. And he would understand.

But a niggling doubt kept picking at her. What if he didn’t understand? What if he was actually thinking of staying here? What would she do?

She didn’t know.

Picking Julie up, Kevin strode up the front steps, Anne running ahead of him to open the door. But just as he got to the threshold, the door opened and Marguerite appeared. She stepped back to let Kevin and Anne pass, but blocked Kerry’s way as he tried to follow. He stopped in confusion.

“C-Can I come in?” he finally asked.

Marguerite ignored his question. “What’s happened?” she demanded. “What has happened to my niece?”

As clearly as he could, Kerry explained. “It was an accident,” he finished. “I tried to warn her, but it was too late. I—”

But Marguerite didn’t let him finish. “How dare you?” she asked, her eyes glittering with anger. “What do you mean, an accident? There are no such things as accidents, young man. We entrusted Julie to you, and what happened? You bring her home half drowned!”

Kerry’s face reddened, and he took a step backward. “I—I’m sorry, Miss Devereaux,” he began, but once again Marguerite cut him off.

“Sorry? You’re
sorry?
My niece is a very special person, Kerry. She’s a dancer who has a brilliant career ahead of her. Today all that could have been taken away from her because of you, and all you can say is that you’re sorry?”

Kerry felt his temper rising. “Well, what do you want me to say?” he demanded. “It wasn’t my fault, and I tried to warn her, and I got her out of the water and brought her home! What else was I supposed to do?”

“You should never have let it happen in the first place,” Marguerite declared. “You’re just like all the rest of the boys—no sense of responsibility at all! And how dare you speak to me the way you just did?”

The rest of Kerry’s control snapped. “Me speak to you?”
he shouted. “What about the way you were talking to me? Now I see why Mary-Beth wants to quit your stupid classes. If you talk to the girls the way you talk to me, I’ll bet they all quit!”

Marguerite lurched backward in the face of Kerry’s anger and had to grasp the doorjamb to keep from stumbling. “Quit?” she gasped. “I don’t understand—what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Mary-Beth Fletcher,” Kerry said, his voice still quivering with anger. “She was talking about quitting your classes today, and everyone else was trying to talk her out of it. But now I see why she wants out.” Turning, he stormed off the veranda, slammed back into his car, started it, and gunned the engine. Then he popped the clutch. The wheels spun in the grass for a moment before they caught, then left deep ruts as the car skidded across the lawn, slewed onto the road, and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Marguerite, stunned, stood on the veranda until long after Kerry’s car had disappeared from view.

What had he been talking about? Mary-Beth was going to quit her lessons? But it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t leave Marguerite. She couldn’t!

Then, as the thoughts tumbled through her mind, Marguerite felt a touch on her arm.

She spun around, half expecting to see her mother standing there.

But, of course, it wasn’t her mother—her mother was dead. She had to remember that and stop thinking that Helena was going to come back.

“R-Ruby?” she asked, her eyes blinking as they flooded with hot tears, “Oh, Ruby, what am I going to do? If Mary-Beth leaves me—”

“Now, now,” Ruby soothed. “Don’t you even think about that. We don’t have to worry about Mary-Beth Fletcher. I always said she’d come to a bad end, and if she quits your lessons, I say we’re well rid of her.”

But Marguerite shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “You
don’t understand, Ruby. She can’t leave me. I love her, Ruby. I love her, and she can’t leave me.…” Her voice trailed off and she took an unsteady step, leaning heavily on Ruby to hold her balance. “She can’t …” she said once more.

“Then she won’t,” Ruby said firmly, leading Marguerite back into the house and closing the door behind her. “We’ll fix it, Miss Marguerite. There’s always ways of fixin’ things.”

Marguerite let herself be led into the small parlor, and settled into a chair, where she sat in silence for several minutes. “Yes,” she said at last, coming out of her reverie. “We’ll fix it, won’t we? There are ways of fixing everything.”

Kevin waited until dinner was over and Ruby had begun clearing off the large dining room table before he brought up the idea that had been growing in his mind ever since Sam Waterman had left a few hours earlier. His whole family had known something was up, and all through the meal they wanted to know what he was smiling about. He hadn’t told them, waiting until just the right moment. But finally, with a soft breeze wafting gently through the open French doors and the scent of wisteria perfuming the air, he decided the time was right. He turned to Julie, who was sitting at his right scraping up the last crumbs of Ruby’s rhubarb pie. “What would you think,” he asked, drawing each word out for the maximum effect, “of living here? I mean on a permanent basis?”

Julie stared at her father in shocked surprise, and her brow furrowed slightly. “You mean not go back home at all? Just stay here?”

“Well, of course we’d go home,” he told her. He glanced toward Anne, and the first pang of doubt suddenly came over him, for instead of smiling encouragingly at him, she seemed to be stiffening in her chair at the opposite end of the table. He turned his attention quickly back to Julie. “We’d have to pack up, sell the house, and take care of a lot of details. But what I want to know is how you feel about living here.”

Now Julie looked dazed. “I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “I mean—well, I just haven’t thought about it, that’s all.”

“I think it would be neat!” Jeff declared, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“And I,” Anne said from the end of the table, her cool voice washing the glitter from Jeff’s eyes, “would like to know what on earth you’re talking about.”