"Grandpa," I whispered again, tears welling, my heart aching to see him like this. "It's me, Heaven girl. That's what you used to call me--don't you
remember? Have I changed so much?"
Slow recognition came. Grandpa tried to smile, to show happiness, his pale eyes lighting up, opening wider. I threw myself into his arms that slowly opened to receive me . . . and just in the nick of time. While he silently cried, I held him in my arms and wiped away his tears with my handkerchief.
"Now, now," soothed Grandpa, finding a rusty voice to use while smoothing my rumpled hair, "don't ya cry. We ain't sufferin, not Annie, not me. Neva had it so good before, huh, Annie?"
Oh, dear God! . . . He was looking at the empty rocker and seeing Granny! He even reached to pat where her hand would have been if she'd been sitting there. Then, almost with relief, he leaned over to spread sheets of old newspapers on the floor at his feet, and began with his sharp knife to shave a piece of tree limb free of bark. It was so good to see those hands busy.
"Lady here pays me an Annie t'work, help wid t'cookin, an t'make these critters," Grandpa said in a low whisper. "Hate t'see em go. Neva thought I'd let even one go, but it means nice thins for Annie. She kin't hear so good nowadays, either. Gonna buy her a hearin aid. But I kin hear good, real good. Don't need no glasses yet. . . . That is ya, Heaven girl, that really ya? Yer lookin good, like yer ma who came. Annie . . . where did Luke's angel come from? Kin't seem t'rememba much of nothin lately . . ."
"Granny's looking fine, Grandpa," I managed to say as I knelt by his side and put my cheek on his old gnarled hand when it was momentarily still. "Are they good to you here?"
"It's not so bad," he said vaguely, looking lost and bewildered when he moved his eyes over the room. "An I'm mighty glad t'see ya lookin so fine an pretty; pretty as yer own true ma. An here ya are, Luke's angel's Heaven. Gladdens this heart t'see yer face lookin like yer ma come back t'life."
He paused, looked at me uneasily before he went on. "Know ya don't love yer pa, know ya don't even want t'hear bout him, but still he's yer fatha, an there's nothin t'be done bout that now. My Luke's done gone an got himself some kind of crazy, dangerous job, so I hear tell, but don't know what it is, cept he's makin lots of money. Luke set Annie and me up here with his money, didn't leave us t'starve."
How grateful he seemed for nothing! This horrible small room! And then I felt shamed, for he was better off here than alone in the cabin.
"Grandpa, where is Pa?"
He stared at me blankly, then lowered his eyes to his whittling. "Like t'dead risin from t'grave," he muttered. "Like God tried once an made a mistake, an's tryin again t'do it right. God help her."
It sure did make me feel strange, his saying that. I knew he didn't realize he'd said those
frightening words aloud. Still, I felt sort of doomed. And even worse, he kept on speaking in that strange, mumbling way, as if to his Annie. "Would ya look at her, Annie, just would ya?"
"Grandpa, stop mumbling! Tell me where Pa is! Tell me where I can find Keith, Our Janet You see Pa . . he must have told you where they are."
Vacant stare into nowhere. No voice to answer a question like that.
It was no use.
In time he said all there was to say, and I stood to go. "I'll be coming back soon, Grandpa," I said at the door. "Take care, now. You hear?"
Then I joined Logan on the porch.
There was someone with him. A tall young man with dark auburn hair who turned when he heard the clickity-clack of my heels. I stared . . . and then my knees went weak.
Oh, my God!
It was Tom!
My brother Tom, standing and grinning at me, just the way he used to do . . . only thing was, in two years and eight months he'd grown to look almost exactly like Pa!
Tom stepped toward me, grinning broadly and holding out his arms. "I can't believe my eyes!" I ran to him then and was caught up in his strong embrace, and we were hugging, kissing, laughing, crying, both trying to talk at once.
Soon all three of us walked down Main Street with arms locked, me in the middle. We stopped at a park bench that just happened to face the church, and of course the parsonage was across from the church. Fanny could have looked out and seen us there, even if she was too cowardly to join her own family reunion.
"Now, Tom," I gushed, "tell me everything your letters didn't."
Tom glanced at Logan and seemed a little embarrassed. Immediately Logan was on his feet, making excuses that he had to hurry back home. "Sorry about this, Logan," Tom apologized, "but I've only got ten minutes to visit with my sister, and years of filling in to do, but I'll see you again in about a week."
"See you tomorrow in church," Logan said to me in a significant way.
Logan left, while I feasted my eyes on Tom. His sparkling green eyes locked with mine. "Good golly, if you ain't a sight for sore eyes."
"If you aren't' is the way you should say it." "I should have known. Still the schoolteacher!"