Darkest Hour (Cutler 5)

Tottie left and I pulled the blanket up around myself again. Mamma didn't come up to see me. She retreated to her music and her books. The afternoon passed into the early evening. I heard Papa come home, heard his heavy footsteps in the hallway. When he reached my door, I held my breath, expecting him to come in to see what had been done and ask me what had happened, but he walked past my door. Either Mamma hadn't told him or she had made it sound like nothing, I thought sadly. Later, I heard him go by on his way down to dinner and again, he didn't stop. Tottie was sent up to tell me dinner was ready, but I told her I wasn't hungry. Not five minutes later, she returned huffing and puffing from her run up the stairs to tell me Papa insisted I come down.

"The Captain says he don't care if you eat a morsel, but you get yourself in your seat," Tottie related. "He looks angry enough to butcher all the hogs in one fell swoop," she added. "You'd better come down, Miss Lillian."

Reluctantly, I rose from the bed. Numbly, I gazed at myself in the mirror. I shook my head trying to deny what I saw, but it wouldn't go away. I nearly burst into fresh tears. Louella had done the best she could, of course, but she was just out to cut my hair down as short as she could. Some strands were longer than others and my hair looked jagged around the ears. I tied one of Mamma's scarves around my head and went downstairs.

Emily's smile was faint and sardonic as I took my place at the table. Then her expression changed until her face was carved in her habitual look of disapproval, her back straight, her arms folded. The Bible was opened on the table before her. I gave her the most hateful glare I could, but all it did was brighten the look of pleasure in those gray orbs.

Mamma smiled. Papa scrutinized me sharply, his mustache twitching.

"Take off that scarf at the dinner table," he commanded.

"But Papa," I moaned, "I look horrible."

"Vanity is a sin," he said. "When the Devil wanted to tempt Eve in Paradise, he told her she was as beautiful as God. Take it off." I hesitated, hoping Mamma would come to my aid, but she sat there quietly, a pained look on her face. "Take it off, I said!" Papa demanded.

I did so, my eyes down. When I glanced up, I saw how pleased Emily was.

"Next time you'll pay more attention to where you're going and what's happening around you," Papa said.

"But Papa . . ."

He put his hand up before I could continue.

"I don't want to hear no more about this incident. I heard enough from your mother. Emily . . ."

Emily's face smiled as much as it ever did and she gazed down at the Bible.

"'The Lord is my shepherd,' " she began. I didn't hear her reading. I sat there, my heart as cold as stone. Tears streamed down my cheeks and dripped off my chin, but I didn't wipe them away. If Papa noticed, he didn't care. As soon as Emily finished her reading, he began to eat. Mamma started to relate the new gossip she had learned at her luncheon. Papa appeared to listen, nodding occasionally and even laughing at one point. It was as if what had happened to me had happened to me years and years ago and I was just reliving the memory; I was the only one reliving it. I tried to eat something just so Papa wouldn't be angry but the food got caught in my throat, and at one point I started to choke and had to swallow a glass of water.

Dinner mercifully ended and I went to Eugenia's room as I had promised, only she was asleep. I sat by her bed for a while and watched her labored breathing. She moaned once, but her eyes didn't open. Finally, I left her and went up to my room, exhausted from one of the most horrible days of my life.

When I walked into my room, I went to the window to gaze out at lawns, but it was a very dark night. The sky was overcast. In the distance, I saw the flash of lightning and then the first drops fell, splattering against the windowpane like thick tears. I retreated to my bed. Moments after I had put out my light and closed my eyes, I heard my door being opened and looked.

Emily stood there in the shadows.

"Pray for forgiveness," she said.

"What?" I sat up quickly. "You want me to pray for forgiveness after what you did to me? You should be the one praying for forgiveness. You're a horrid person. Why did you do it? Why?"

"I didn't do anything to you. The Lord punished you for your sinful acts. Do you think anything could happen if God didn't wish it to happen? I told you, you're a living curse, a rotten apple who could corrupt and ruin every other apple. As long as you are not remorseful, you will suffer and you will never be remorseful," she added.

"I am not sinful and rotten! You are!"

She closed my door, but I continued to scream. "You are! You are!"

I buried my face in my hands and sobbed until I was out of tears. Then I fell back on my pillow. I lay in the darkness feeling strangely out of myself. Over and over I heard Emily's sharp, cutting voice. "You were born evil, wicked, a curse." I closed my eyes and tried to shut her out, but she droned on and on in my thoughts, her words drilling deeply into my soul.

Was she right? Why would God permit her to hurt me so, I wondered. She can't be right. Why would God want to see someone as kind and loving as Eugenia suffer? No, the devil was at work here, not God.

But why did God let the devil do it?

We're all being tested, I concluded. Deep in my heart, buried under mountains of pretend and illusion, was the realization that the biggest test of all was just ahead. It was always there, lingering over The Meadows like a dark cloud that was oblivious to the wind or to prayers. It hovered, waiting until its time came.

And then it released the rain of sadness over us, the drops so cold they were to chill my heart forever and ever.

7

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