“I didn’t mean literally,” I said.
“Maybe you did and you didn’t realize it.” He returned to his chair. “You hear anything that surprised you?”
“Don’t try to be a teacher, Kane. Remember, this is supposed to be different from a school assignment.”
He laughed. “Sorry. Okay. You heard how the old man looked up at them and smiled?”
“Christopher said he thought it looked like that. He wasn’t sure.”
“The old man knew they were there,” Kane said, nodding. “Your uncle’s contact was right, I bet.”
“Okay, I’ll play along. What do you think it all means?”
He sat back, looking like a junior Sherlock Holmes, full of self-confidence. “I’m thinking the old lady told him right from the start, and he approved of keeping them under lock and key. They both believed the children were the devil’s children or something, didn’t they? Maybe they thought they’d grow horns and tails and confirm their nutty ideas.”
“But what about Corrine? I admit that what she’s doing, what she’s permitting, most mothers wouldn’t, but I really believe she thinks she can pull it off, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe they played her, too.”
“Played her?”
“You know, conned her into believing the plan had a chance. Granny told her she was keeping the kids a secret from the old coot until he kicked the bucket. She forced Corrine to do the things she did, convincing her that was the case. All the while, she kept the old man in the loop.”
“But why would he do it?”
“He gets his slow revenge for her running off with Christopher Sr. He puts her through all this hell first.”
“It doesn’t sound like she’s going through hell now.”
“Yeah, not now. Now she’s back to being Daddy’s little girl. She’s been whipped and made to do what they want her to do with the children. He’s letting out the leash little by little, her own car, money, clothes, and jewelry. He keeps her obedient, and that keeps the children locked up. She’s all he’s got left, with the brothers dead. He sounds to me like someone who wants his legacy. He’s probably got too much of an ego to see the end of the Foxworths. Her return, molding her into the woman he wants her to be, is satisfying, maybe even keeping him alive at this point,” he continued, obviously thinking it through as he spoke.
“Maybe,” I said. What he was saying did make some sense, at least with what we knew now. “But I still think we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”
He smiled. “That’s okay. Keep your options open. One of us should always be challenging what the other thinks, anyway. Cathy’s really challenging Christopher’s theories most of the time, isn’t she? You challenge mine.”
“Yes, but—”
“So let’s keep going. I want to see what he discovers. It’s still early.”
I checked the time. “Okay.”
Pleased, he returned to the diary. As he began, I thought again about what I had considered might happen, how by reading the diary and putting ourselves as best we could in Christopher’s and Cathy’s place, we might expose things about ourselves that we’d told no one. He had already done it. Soon it would be my turn, I was sure. Would this all make us closer, or, in the end, would it drive us apart?
As quietly as I could, I opened the door and slipped into the room, but when I turned to look for Cathy, there was Momma. I had never seen such rage in her face. Her whole body looked swollen with it. Before I could speak, she slapped me hard on the left cheek, and when I recuperated, she slapped me even harder on my right. Stunned, I stood there, my face stinging.
“Where were you? Where did you go? If you ever do anything like this again”—she practically spit at me—“I’ll whip you. I’ll whip you both the way I was whipped. Do you hear? Do you?”
I couldn’t speak.
Was this the mother who had so often embraced me, petted me, and covered my face with kisses, telling me how much she needed and depended on me and how like my father I was to her in almost every way?
Was this the mother who looked to me to help her get through this crisis, because she believed I was more an adult than a child and I could understand her and what she needed more perhaps than someone her age?
Who was this woman now standing before me with such fury in her eyes?
For a long moment, it was so quiet we could hear the walls and floors creak. Then my mother’s expression changed so quickly it took my breath away. It was as if she had been possessed by some demon and, realizing what had happened, driven him out.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” she cried. “Forgive me, please. Forgive me!”