The Watery Part of the World - Michael Parker [62]
Only the last word registered, and she found herself repeating it silently as she swallowed and tried not to believe that he’d planned this. But it was too convenient, his bringing home Hezekiah, then disappearing. And insulting to both Hezekiah and herself. Leading this poor man to believe that his actions were motivated by a moral compass. And not trusting that she could make do, in his absence, with the children.
The most egregious insult of all was to himself. What right had he, who had survived so much and managed to regain some goodness and decency in his life, to taint the sanctity of his soul?
For the next few days the anger she felt toward Whaley alternated with shame for allowing herself to believe him capable of such cruelty. Hours plagued with constant and multiple irritations: Hezekiah’s hammering (she finally asked him to go down to the sound and fish for their supper, just for an hour’s quiet), her children’s questions (where is daddy when is he coming home did he come home last night), the lies she delivered in answer to their questions (your father had business across the sound he’ll be back soon) and—the most intolerable annoyance, the one that kept her from more than a quarter hour of sleep, that needled her day and night—the fear that he had returned to his other family, that he’d booked passage on some British-bound ship, leaving her here to deal with a situation that, she scarcely wanted to admit, was after all her creation. It wasn’t as if he’d have ever started a family had they stayed in that place now called after the head of a horse, the two island wards wed on a wet dune in a ceremony attended only by sand crab and tern, after which they’d set about filling their ramshackle lean-to with unfortunate offspring certain to suffer from their parents’ afflictions, her deliciously comical delusions of grandeur (daughter of a vice president, wife of a governor) and his eccentric and uncivilized dress and behavior. No, this life, this island, even if she were honest, these children (for she was finally the one who gave herself to him, who decided to indulge the misconceptions of the islanders who thought them married and perform wifely duties that no man would refuse)—all of what they shared was her doing. Maybe he never wanted it. He was just too good to let her die. But just because he had saved her life did not mean he loved her.
She took to talking to him aloud. At first the children asked her who she was talking to, but after a day or two they began to cower. Phillip, eleven years old then, seemed to sense his ascension to some new authority. He kept the younger ones fed and bathed and made sure they did not acknowledge their mother when she said aloud to long gone Whaley, You ought never have killed that dog or Do you really think she’ll want you back after all these years?
On the fourth morning she looked out of the window in the summer kitchen and saw Hezekiah strolling into the yard carrying a pail of water. She was at his side, her arms freckled with flour, in seconds.
She told him he was welcome to stay in the shed until he found other lodgings, but that there wasn’t any way she could pay him.
“Whaley never thought of that, did he?”
“Beg your pardon, ma’am?”
“Call me Theodosia,” she said, not kindly. She did not want to be shrill with him, but he was a part of the plan.
“Where did he go?” she said.
“Where did who go?”
“You’ll have to fend for yourself. Did he expect you to stay around forever making sure we don’t starve? Is this his idea of what freedom is?”
Hezekiah stood stiffly before her, still holding the pail of water.
“I will not have it,” she said. “Think of the position he’s left us both in. I am unable to compensate you, which makes my dependence on your help criminal, an affront to God’s laws, and though he paid you and purportedly set you free, he expected you to remain here, in service to us.”
“I believe I’d be more comfortable calling you Miss Whaley,” he said, but it was clear that he was trying not to say something else.
“As if that is who I am,” she said. “Ever