Picking up Michael again, I had the presence of mind to shut the door and carefully climb around to the driver’s side and shut the car and headlights off. All the while, I was thinking about the sandal.
My leg hurt, and I had the worst headache of my life, but I didn’t think either one of us was bleeding. The night was quiet except for the sound of the occasional car up on the highway. No one was stopped above us. No one had found us, yet. I had to find a way out of town, but I knew I couldn’t go back up to the highway. The police would be looking for us.
“We have to run, darling. And I need you to be very quiet.” But Michael was crying harder.
We entered the woods at the bottom of the hill. The night was chilly, and my leg was stiff, but I walked as quickly as I could. I had to think.
The woods were sparse, revealing the lights of houses on the eastern edge of Old Gate. I had no plan except to get Michael somewhere warm that wasn’t the police station. I didn’t like heading back into town, and I racked my brain trying to think of people I knew on this side of town. In my fearful fantasies, I imagined every door being shut against us. My father and Nonie were the only people I could trust, and I had to find a way to call them. Shamefully, a part of me was even a little embarrassed that we were in such distress. The Bliss name wasn’t a particularly popular one, and Eva’s death had added to the air of scandal around it.
After a few minutes, still unable to hear any voices or footsteps behind us, I slowed—but not too much. I knew that if I stopped, my injured leg might keep me from starting again.
We were another half mile from Father Aaron and the church, where we might be safe, and I knew I couldn’t make it. Michael had quieted but was shivering in my arms.
“Soon. Soon we’ll be warm, baby.”
It was his shivering that made me remember: Eva—or Eva’s ghost—standing in front of me in the morning room, wearing the Wedgwood blue ribbon. Drenched. Water running into her muddy sandals.
Eva had died wearing her sandals and a ribbon that she’d gotten from Rachel. She wouldn’t have had either on if she’d been trying to take a bath. It was unthinkable. Eva hadn’t died in the house, and she hadn’t been alone.
“Oh, Michael. Your poor sister.”
Finally we reached the outermost road circling the town, and as I crossed a back yard littered with children’s toys, a swing set, and a rusting car, a dog I hadn’t noticed when I entered the yard lunged at us, barking madly. Michael screamed, terrified. He had little experience of dogs because Press didn’t like them. Frightened that the dog would attack us, I began to run, but the barking didn’t get closer. When we passed close to the house, I saw that the dog was chained to a shed in a corner of the yard. I was so grateful.
No lights came on in the house, and I hurried on, finally deciding exactly where we might go.
Chapter 37
No Quarter
“Someone needs to look at Michael, Charlotte. If you don’t let David call Jack, then I have no choice but to call the hospital for an ambulance.”
Finally, Michael and I were both warm. Rachel’s father, David, had poked up the waning fire in the family room, and Holly had brought me tea and a cup of warm milk that I was letting Michael sip in my lap. There had been no use in lying about the wreck. The bruises on my face and the mud on my now-ruined loafers sitting by the front door told a large part of the story. They had answered the door together, Holly looking apprehensive and David irritated. He was like Rachel in that he didn’t suffer fools or interruptions patiently, and given that it was nearly three A.M., our arrival had certainly interrupted his sleep. Now he stood at the entrance to the family room watching us silently. I knew that Holly didn’t care much for Press, but I had no idea how David felt.
“We’re both just tired. Don’t you see?” I knew I was being unreasonable. “David looked us both over.” But David didn’t let me finish.
“I told you that army field training from fifteen years ago doesn’t make me qualified to pass judgment on automobile accident injuries now.” Then he continued, more kindly, “I think Michael is all right, but I still believe you may have a concussion. You should both see a doctor.”
“There’s an eight-twenty morning train from Lynchburg, or you could drive us up to Charlottesville. We could be in Clareston before supper. I promise we’ll go by the hospital just as soon as we get there.” I could hear the panic rising in my voice, and knew I sounded insane to them. Holly had listened sympathetically when I told her that it was more than a small argument that I’d had with Press, and that I needed to get to my father’s house, or at least call him and let him know we needed to come home. But I couldn’t be certain they believed me. I took several deep breaths to calm myself. Michael, too, was upset, restless and fretful in my arms.
“Let me take him, Charlotte.” Holly held out her hands for him. “I’ll give him back whenever you like.”
“Please. Can’t I use the phone?”