“Who is that?” I asked, but didn’t wait for Stephen to respond. I jogged ahead, Kurt quickly joining me. We found Talitha seated in the reddish dirt behind the main house. As we approached it became clear she was hunched over her cat, Lucy.
When I got closer I could see the cat was dead, eyes and mouth open and lifeless. There was no blood, though, and Talitha didn’t seem hurt, which relieved me.
Kurt knelt and put a comforting hand on Talitha’s shoulder.
“Let go of me!” she shouted at Kurt, wrenching herself away.
“He’s dead, sweetheart,” Kurt said, rising and taking a few steps back, knocking into me and then putting an arm around my waist.
“It’s not a he. It’s Lucy!” Talitha yelled. “And she’s not dead. I won’t let her be dead!”
“Oh, honey!” I said, wishing I could do something to help her.
Stephen had finally joined us. He didn’t seem overly concerned. “All animals die, Talitha. It’s why we shouldn’t get so close to them.”
Talitha looked up at her father, pleading. “Make her come back to life. Put your hands on her and heal her with your priesthood, Daddy.” She was still clutching the dead cat to her chest tightly.
I turned to watch Stephen. It sickened me that Talitha thought he could actually do that. Had he told her that he could lay his hands on the dead and resurrect them? Or had she made it up out of her own desperation?
“Talitha, this is a pet, not a human being,” Stephen said. “It has no soul to call back from the dead.”
I hated him for his callousness. Couldn’t he at least tell his young daughter that the cat had died as peacefully as it could have in her loving arms, as it so clearly had?
“I think she does have a soul,” Talitha said. “How can she not if I loved her so much? Daddy, I want Lucy to be in my heaven.”
The only time Kurt and I had talked about pets in heaven had been when Samuel’s rabbit Fluffy had died about ten years ago now. I’d resisted getting any pets for the other boys, but Samuel had been so tender with animals and pleaded so often, I’d eventually given in. She’d only lasted eighteen months. I remember how distraught he was at the thought that his pet was dead forever. So Kurt and I told him that we were sure that a God of love would include pets in heaven, as well, though Mormon doctrine wasn’t clear on this topic.
To Talitha, Stephen said firmly, “But you know that Christ did not die for animals to go to heaven, only for us, only for God’s children.” He gestured to himself, to me and Kurt, and to Talitha.
I wished he hadn’t included us in this opinion. I also couldn’t help but wonder if this heartless treatment of a sensitive girl like Talitha might lead her to act in the unhappy way Naomi had interpreted as an indicator of abuse.
“Why?” demanded Talitha, holding the cat tighter to her chest. She looked so tightly wound, I thought she might explode. “I love animals, and I want them in heaven with me. Why can’t they be there?”
“Let go of that creature immediately, Talitha,” Stephen snapped, apparently tired of the conversation. He glanced sharply at us, apparently angry that Kurt and I had seen Talitha defy him.
Talitha turned her back to her father deliberately, hunching closer to the cat so that they were both almost on the ground. She whispered fervently. “I love you and you’re going to come back, maybe as my baby sister—”
She was interrupted by Stephen yanking her up by the elbow. The dead cat tumbled out of her grip to the ground.
The girl kicked and screamed, “Lucy!”
Her arms reached for the cat, but Stephen was hauling her back toward the house. Talitha was just at the age when she could still be carried, but she was big enough for it to be a struggle.
I started to run after them, but Kurt pulled me back. “Linda, don’t. You have to leave it. You’ll only make it worse for her.”
I wanted to call DCFS. But as much as I hated how Stephen treated Talitha, I hadn’t actually seen any physical abuse. Was that going to happen inside the house where I couldn’t see it?
“She’s just a little girl,” I said tightly, watching Stephen carry Talitha’s struggling, squawking form into the house.
“Yes, she is, and he’s a grown man. But if you want to do anything to help here, you have to make sure Stephen doesn’t see you as the enemy,” said Kurt. “Unless you want to leave?”
I swung back to him, furious. “Just because you’re not comfortable here, you want to leave? Why don’t you think of Talitha?”
“Linda, we haven’t seen anything that is illegal. And if Naomi had wanted to call DCFS, she would have done it herself. You know that. If you feel obliged to stay and see more of this—mess—I’ll do what I can to help, but I can’t pretend I’m comfortable about it.” Kurt was pulling at his ever-decreasing thatch of gray hair.
“I have to see more. I can’t leave unless I know that girl is safe,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure at all how I was going to accomplish that.