Let Me Die in His Footsteps

Late into the night before Dale woke, Juna had whispered about the things a man would do to a boy like Dale if he were so inclined, and I barely slept for thinking about it. I hadn’t been able to believe, hadn’t wanted to believe, Joseph Carl had done those things to Juna and Dale. But he did, Juna said over and over all through the night. We have Dale back because Joseph Carl finally told. Praise the Lord, Dale is home and soon he’ll be well. Joseph Carl finally told. Why don’t you believe?

 

Visitors come throughout the day, all of them relieved because Dale’s waking means he’ll be well again. First, it’s Sheriff Irlene. She brings strawberry preserves, two jars.

 

“Didn’t intend on making a bad situation worse,” she says to Juna because Joseph Carl told and we all know he’s guilty now and the sheriff is feeling ashamed for having questioned Juna’s story.

 

“Are you girls well?” she says to me once Juna has settled in a seat at the kitchen table. “You have all you need for Dale? For yourselves and your daddy?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

 

“Your daddy,” she says, “he seem content to have Joseph Carl behind bars? He planning any sort of trouble?”

 

“No, ma’am,” I say, and I want to ask her if she’s sure. Is she so sure Joseph Carl did these things that she’ll let him die?

 

“And you girls?” she says, staring at me and only me. “You’re well here? You’re safe?”

 

It’s John Holleran who has told her the things Juna said, and as I thought, they’ll stick to me now all my days.

 

“Safe and sound, ma’am.”

 

John Holleran comes after supper. I knew he would. I meet him at his truck because it feels like the thing I should do, and I tell him Dale is awake. Juna too is better. She walks straight now, same as always. She had needed rest and water and a little something to eat. I want John to tell me the sheriff had been wrong about Joseph Carl, but instead, he removes his hat, glances over my shoulder to make sure Daddy isn’t watching, and he kisses me. Not like before, not with both hands and his tongue inside my mouth, but a quick soft kiss that catches the outer edge of my lips. I wish I wasn’t, but I’m angry at him for making Sheriff Irlene think terrible things were happening in this house. Like always, John was only trying to do what he thought was right.

 

“There’ll be a trial,” he says instead of telling me the sheriff was wrong. “He’ll be treated fair.”

 

It’s the best he can do and the best we can hope for. Daddy wanted Joseph Carl for himself, thought any decent man should be able to see to his own justice.

 

“He’ll stay in jail until then?”

 

John nods.

 

John’s mama comes next. Mary Holleran has quietly slipped in and out of the house several times over the past few days, always leaving food or ground coffee or fresh-picked tomatoes and such from her garden. People wonder now does she really have the know-how because she couldn’t tell where Dale would be found. But Juna couldn’t tell either, or wouldn’t tell.

 

Mary touches John’s sleeve as she walks into the kitchen. Her long hair, as always, has been twisted and rolled and pinned in a bundle on top of her head. She smiles until she sees Juna sitting at the table. Like so many others who come into our house, Mary walks a path that keeps her clear of Juna. Most folks are leery of those who have the gift. It’s not that they’re scared. Folks have a way of keeping a comfortable distance from things they don’t understand. But Mary understands the know-how, knows it better than most anyone, so it must be the evil Daddy has always thought took up in Juna’s eyes that frightens Mary.

 

“I want you to keep a sharp eye on that boy,” Mary says before leaving again. “On Dale. Keep a sharp eye.”

 

I nod. “Thank you for coming,” I say.

 

Again, she says, “You keep an eye. No one else. You.”

 

I sleep all that night at Dale’s side, sitting up in the chair next to his bed. The doctor said if he began to fuss about the pain, which he would eventually because God damn it all, that was quite a break, we should give him a teaspoon of Daddy’s whiskey. That’ll do the trick, he said, but Dale never complains. He sleeps through the night, restless and sometimes mumbling, and in the morning, Juna wakes me with a tap to my shoulder.

 

By herself, Juna has lifted the shutter. A sliver of sunlight, the most the house would see all day, lights up the room and collects in her hair. To look up at her from my seat at Dale’s side, I have to shade my eyes and squint. I forgot while I slept. I forgot the things Juna had done with Ellis Baine and all the others too. I forgot Joseph Carl would likely hang for what he did, and that Ellis Baine and I would never steal away to join Joseph Carl where the wheat grew taller than a man. I forgot Dale disappeared and that he was home again. I forgot I kissed John Holleran.

 

“Did he wake at all?” Juna asks, shaking me again. “Did he say anything more?”