An Acquaintance with Darkness - Ann Rinaldi [60]
"Exactly. And if they find Johnny, they'll blame it on him."
"Johnny shouldn't wait to be found," she said. "He should come home of his own accord."
"How can you say that?"
"He knows I'm in trouble. And Mama. He's read it in the papers. He should come home to be with us." She was crying, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"Then you'd have both a mother and a brother in jail," I said. "Would that help?"
"It'd help to know Johnny cared enough to come home and put himself in the line of fire for Mama. Or help me. I've got no one. Not even Alex. I've had no letters from him. Wouldn't you think he'd write? I go home to an empty house. Without even my cat."
"You can have your cat back if you want her," I said, "but you're wrong about Johnny."
"You always did favor him over me," she retorted.
There was no consoling her. She wouldn't be soothed with more tea or applesauce cake, words, or reminders of friendship. She left in a huff.
She took Puss-in-Boots with her, too. Just picked her up and went out of the house with the cat under her arm. In the rain. I sat alone, feeling hurt and confused. I wanted to cry. Annie was the only friend I had from the old days, the days when my mother and father were still alive, the days before the madness of the war came on us all like some sickness, turning us against each other. She was the only one with whom I could share common memories. And now she was gone. With Puss-in-Boots.
I waited for Uncle Valentine to come home. I couldn't tell him about the letter from Johnny, of course, but I could tell him Annie had been in a foul mood and meaner than a hen with its head chopped off.
I could tell him we'd fought, that she thought Johnny should come back.
I could tell him she took Puss-in-Boots. He would know what to say. He always did.
But he didn't come home that night. He sent a note around to Maude, who came in soon after Annie left. He had gone to a hanging.
"A hanging?" My mouth fell open as Maude read me the note. "Why a hanging?"
"He was invited."
Invited? People got invited to hangings? I was baffled, desolate.
"They need doctors to pronounce the people dead," she said.
"Was it a criminal?"
"Of course. Why else is anyone hanged?"
Oh, I thought. So then he'll get the body for his medical school. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought, but I didn't say anything. Maude served me dinner alone in the dining room. Rain slashed against the windows. The lamplight flickered. A good night for a hanging, I thought. I wondered what Annie was doing all alone in her house. Then I remembered she was not alone. She had Puss-in-Boots.
I missed the cat. She'd taken to following me around the house. When I pulled back the bedspread she'd hop up on the bed and roll over, waiting for me. Would Annie remember to feed her, with all she had on her mind?
I went up to my tower room and got into bed. I tried to read, but I couldn't. The whole house seemed to be filled with creakings and eerie noises. Outside a shutter banged. A tree branch scraped against a window.
Upstairs, in her room above mine, Addie was walking. She walked constantly, it seemed. Two nights ago I'd gone up and knocked on her door to see what was wrong. She'd said Uncle Valentine had her on new medicine. It stopped the coughing. "But I's restless," she'd said. "An' I keeps thinkin' it's a shame to let it go to waste. I could be out there helpin' my people."
If you'd help me escape. She had not said the words, but they hung in the dark between us. They fluttered around the glow of my candle, like moths drawn to the flame. And they followed me downstairs. Addie had become a recrimination to me. I felt guilty about her. As guilty as I felt about Annie. And there was nothing I could do for either one.
I listened to the sound of the rain against the windows. It lulled my thoughts. I supposed that Uncle Valentine had taken the body of the hanged man back to the medical school and that was why he hadn't come home. What would he do with it? Would the neck be broken? The eyes bulging