Darkest Hour (Cutler 5)

"Disappeared? No," I said, shaking my head. "Uh-huh, she has. She didn't come to my window all day and I asked Henry to find her," Eugenia explained in a shaky voice.

"So?"

"He can't; he's looked everywhere, too," she said, holding her arms up. "Cotton's run away."

"Cotton wouldn't run away," I said confidently. "Henry says she must have."

"He's mistaken," I said. "I'll go look for her myself and I'll bring her to your window."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart," I said, and spun around to charge out of the house as quickly as I had charged in.

Mamma, who was in her reading room, called, "Is that you, Lillian?"

"I'll be right back, Mamma," I said, and put my notebook and my writing paper with "Excellent" on it on a small table in the entryway before going out to find Henry. I saw Emily walking slowly toward the house, her head stiff, her eyes open wider.

"Henry can't find Cotton," I called to her. She smirked and continued toward the house. I ran around to the barn and found Henry milking one of our cows. We had just enough milk cows, chickens and pigs to take care of our own needs, and it was mainly Henry's job to look after them. He raised his head as I came running in.

"Where's Cotton?" I asked, gasping for breath.

"Don't know. Most peculiar thing. Female cats don't usually go wanderin' off like male cats do. She ain't been in her place in the barn for a while and I ain't seen her nowhere on the plantation all day." He scratched his head.

"We've got to find her, Henry."

"I know, Miss Lillian. I've been lookin' every free moment I get, but I ain't seen hide nor hair."

"I'll find her," I said determinedly, and charged out into the yard. I looked around the pig pen and the chicken coops. I went behind the barn and followed the path to the east field where the cows grazed. I looked in the smokehouse and the toolshed. I spotted all our other cats, but I didn't find Cotton. Frustrated, I went down to the tobacco fields and asked some of the workers if they had seen her, but no one had.

After that, I hurried back to the house, hoping Cotton had returned from whatever journey she had made, but Henry simply shook his head when he saw me.

"Where could she be, Henry?" I asked, on the verge of tears myself.

"Well, Miss Lillian, the last thing I can think of is sometimes these cats go over to the pond to paw at the little fish that swim near the shore. Maybe . . ." he said, nodding.

"Let's look before it starts to rain," I cried. I had already felt the first heavy drop splatter on my forehead. I started away. Henry looked up at the sky.

"We're gonna get caught in it, Miss Lillian," he warned, but I didn't stop. I ran down the pathway toward the pond, ignoring some brush that scratched at my shins. Nothing else mattered but finding Cotton for Eugenia. When I got to the pond, I was disap-pointed. There was no sign of her patrolling the shore in hopes of catching a small fish. Henry came up beside me. The rain started to fall faster, harder.

"We better go back, Miss Lillian," he said. I nodded, my tears now mingling with the drops that struck my cheeks. But suddenly, Henry seized my shoulder with a grip that surprised me.

"Don't you go no furtha', Miss Lillian," he ordered, and stepped down to the edge of the water near the small dock. There he looked down and shook his head.

"What is it, Henry?" I cried.

"Go on home now, Miss Lillian. Go on," he said in a commanding tone of voice that frightened me. It wasn't like Henry to speak to me that way. I didn't move.

"What is it, Henry?" I repeated, demanding.

"It ain't nice, Miss Lillian," he said. "It ain't nice." Slowly, oblivious to the increasing rain, I approached the edge of the pond and looked into the water.

There she was, a white ball of cotton, her mouth wide open, but her eyes shut. Around her neck, instead of Eugenia's pink hair ribbon, a piece of rope was tied and on the end of that was tied a rock heavy enough to keep our precious pet beneath the water so she would drown.

My heart nearly burst; I couldn't help myself. I started to shriek and shriek and pound m

y own thighs with my fists.

"No, no, no!" I screamed. Henry started toward me, his eyes full of pain and sorrow, but I didn't wait. I turned and ran back toward the house, the rain drops splattering over my forehead and cheeks, the wind whipping through my hair. I was gasping so hard, I thought I would die when I charged through the front door. I paused in the entryway and let my tears come faster and harder, like the rain. Mamma heard me and came running out of her reading room, her glasses still on the bridge of her nose. My shrieks were so loud, the chambermaids and Louella came running, too.