Let Me Die in His Footsteps

TWICE MAMA CALLS upstairs for Annie to come on down. The third time, Daddy does the hollering. She has company, and it won’t do to be so rude. Annie walks to the top of the stairs and, with a hand resting on her stomach, says she sure doesn’t feel well. Please give Ryce my apologies. It might be the start of school, a long three months away, before Annie is able to bear looking Ryce Fulkerson in the eyes again.

 

As the three of them sit down there, the sun falling below the horizon, Daddy and Abraham Pace do most of the talking. Every so often, there is a slap, one of them swatting a mosquito, or a creak as someone stands to stretch his legs. In the kitchen, silverware rattles as Grandma drops it in a sink of soapy water and cupboards open and close as Mama puts away the supper dishes. Someone, probably Miss Watson, fans a deck of cards and taps it three times on the kitchen table. The smell of coffee bubbling up in the percolator drifts upstairs. Mama is brewing it to be served with the spice cake and ice cream.

 

There was no talk of Mrs. Baine over supper or how she died, and no talk of Aunt Juna coming home, but Jacob Riddle has been sitting out back all evening on a folding chair Mama brought out from the spare bedroom. He’s there just in case. Just in case it was Aunt Juna up there smoking cigarettes. Just in case it wasn’t old age that got the better of Mrs. Baine. Just in case Ellis Baine comes again.

 

Most of the night, Caroline has been out there with Jacob Riddle. Before supper, she changed into her favorite yellow dress, the one folks say looks so lovely against her dark hair, and snuck into Mama’s lipstick.

 

“He’s the one,” Caroline whispered to Annie as they were eating hamburgers and creamed corn. “He’s the one I saw in the well.”

 

It’s nearly nine thirty when Ryce’s bike wobbles back down the drive. The screen door whines as it opens and slaps closed, chairs scoot across the linoleum, someone shuffles and taps a deck of playing cards on the table again. Daddy hollers out for Caroline to get herself inside and sends Jacob Riddle on home, and a few moments later, Annie’s bedroom door opens. With her back toward the light that spills into the room, Annie closes her eyes and doesn’t answer when Caroline whispers her name.

 

“You awake?” Caroline says.

 

Annie draws in deep, full breaths and lets them out long and slow so Caroline will think she’s asleep. It also helps to calm the sparks racing around her stomach. She wasn’t scared last night about going to the well, not really, not the way she’s scared tonight. The first night she went, she had been certain Daddy was with her, somewhere, watching over her. Even though she’d never crossed over onto Baine property, she’d not been afraid. Not really. But tonight will be different.

 

She’s lied plenty to Caroline about having crossed over the rock fence, but in truth, she never had until she went to the well. When Annie was younger and already tired of folks telling her she was a lucky young lady to be growing up with a girl as fine and lovely as Caroline, she had lied and told Caroline she’d crossed over onto the Baines’ a half dozen times and not a thing bad had happened. She dared Caroline to do the same. Leaning against the rock fence, Annie had told Caroline she was a sissy for being scared, all in hopes Caroline would finally hoist her skirt and crawl over. Eventually, Caroline would start to cry, and Annie would stop teasing because she didn’t truly wish for something bad to happen to Caroline. Annie never truly wished for that.

 

The bedroom smells differently with Caroline in it. Even at the end of the day, after sitting out on that back stoop with Jacob Riddle and listening to him talk about all those old games, Caroline takes over the room with her sweetness and pushes Annie aside.

 

“I know you’re awake,” Caroline says.

 

There’s the long, slow hum of a zipper being unzipped and then the rattling of wire hangers. There are a few pats and a hand brushing lint from the lengths of a skirt as Caroline grooms her dress before closing the closet door.

 

“I know you’re awake, and I know you’re mad.”

 

“Ain’t mad.”

 

“Then why’d you hide up here all night?”

 

“Don’t feel well, is all.”

 

“I’ve been thinking about the fellow you saw in the well,” Caroline says. “I been watching out for him. And been thinking we could trim your hair, if you want. And if you lather it up with some mayonnaise and then wash it good, it’ll lay smoother for you.”

 

“Don’t think I’ll put mayonnaise in my hair,” Annie says.

 

“You think Jacob Riddle is the boy you saw in that well, Annie?”

 

“What if I said yes?”

 

Caroline nudges Annie with one knee, pushing her over, and lies next to her on the bed. She’s warm up against Annie, and as sweet as she smells, that’s how soft her skin is.

 

“I’d believe you,” Caroline says. “But I’d sure be sad about it.”

 

“He ain’t got blue eyes,” Annie says. “You thought about that? You said the boy had dark hair and blue eyes.”

 

Caroline lifts her head long enough to pull all her hair over one shoulder and smooths it by drawing it through her two hands.