Thump, thump... thump, thump. The wagon rolls over what must be the hundredth rut, and I wince as my head jolts up and then slams back down against the wagon bed. With every bump, I feel a stab of pain in my aching bones.
The quiet tears running down my cheeks turn into loud sobs. I'm tired and frustrated, I think I would do anything to get out of this wagon, and most of all I miss Robert. The immense need to take out my anger on something boils deep inside me, but I know that acting violent could be a dreadful mistake. Instead, I take it out on myself. I scratch the skin on my beat up arm as hard as I can with my broken nails. For some grotesque reason, the white line running all the way down my arm immensely fascinates me, and I watch as the scratch line slowly turns pink.
"Look at her. She's mad," I hear my aunt whisper from the front of the wagon.
"Self-harm," the sheriff disapprovingly clicks while steering the team of horses onto another road. "One of the first telltale signs of a lunatic."
For a flicker of a second, I think about arguing that I am not crazy, but I know it wouldn't do any good. Why does it really matter? If they want to believe I'm a lunatic, so be it.
Resting my pounding head on the back of my arm, I'm somehow able to doze off. It must be a good while before I wake up again because when I open my eyes the scenery around me looks foreign. I don't recognize any of the passing landmarks, which is odd because I've lived in this part of Georgia my whole life. I thought for sure that I had seen it all. I suppose I was wrong.
Sitting up, I glance over at Mother and am relieved to see that her passed out body sprawled across the wagon bed beside me is still breathing. If she can just hold on for a few more minutes... "How much longer?" I nervously ask the pair in front of me.
Anna looks to Sheriff McGovern for an answer. The middle-aged sheriff wipes droplets of sweat from his brow, "Probably another seven miles or so."
"She may not last that long!" I exclaim, the feeling of alarm only growing inside me.
"She'd better last that long; I don't want this trip all the way up here to be a waste," Sheriff McGovern grumbles.
Forcing myself to lie back down, I try to find a comfortable position, but between my sore body and tender bruised skin, I can't make myself too at home. I try to fall back asleep, but it's no use. I'm too anxious and uncomfortable. I never meant for it to be like this. I didn't mean for this to happen.
It's just as well that I can't fall asleep. Anna and Sheriff McGovern make me feel uneasy, although I can't quite pinpoint why. Several times during the ride, I have to fight the urge to jump off the wagon and run for the hills. But I have to stay with Mother. She needs medical attention, and so do I.
My eyes wander over to my aunt, her back a straight line, blonde hair twisted into a fashionable bun, and a new plumb colored hat perched just so atop her head. It was only three weeks ago that I saw her for the first time, but it feels like three years. Father had been dead for exactly a week. Spending virtually all my waking hours locked in my room, I decided on that particular day I was in desperate need of a change. I selected a book off my overflowing bookshelf and brought it downstairs to the parlor. Just as the book was starting to get interesting, there was a knock on the front door. Leaving the pretty yellow ribbon I got for my birthday four years ago from Robert to save my place, I curiously went to the door.
It's extremely rare to have anyone call on us, so this was a very unusual surprise. I opened the door to find a tall blonde-haired woman dressed in black with three carpetbags at her feet. "Can I help you?" I hesitantly asked. I didn't recognize her at all.
The woman hardly glanced my way. She was too busy trying to see over my shoulder into the house. "Is this the Bell residence?"
"It is," she was making me uncomfortable, but I didn't want to be rude. "Can I help you?" I repeated after a moment of awkward silence.
She looked at me as if noticing I was there for the first time. Grinning polity she revealed perfectly straight white teeth, "Thank heavens." The woman then proceeded to grab her three bags and push past me inside the house.
What are you supposed to do? I did not know how to handle this person. "Uh," I stammered as she dumped her bags on the floor. Seriously, what do you do with a stranger who barges into your house? Finally, I managed to get over the shock enough to ask, "Who are you?"
She turned her gaze from looking around the foyer to me. "Oh, yes," she chuckled coolly. "How indecent of me. I am Anna Lowe," she paused as if expecting me to recognize the name or something. When it became apparent that her name meant nothing to me, she continued. "I got word that my dear little brother has passed on." For at least two minutes, she put on a show consisting of unusually loud sniffles, wiping away tears that simply weren't there, and nose blowing. It was really almost comical.
"And who are you, dear?" Anna asked after 'pulling herself together.'
"Kate, your brother's daughter."
Anna placed her gloved hand on my cheek, "Oh my, how you've grown since the last time I saw you! Good heavens, has it really been that long?" She clicked her tongue. "Has my darling brother been buried yet?"
"The service was three days ago." This supposed aunt of mine was beginning to irritate me, and I was growing anxious to flee back to the cozy parlor and my book. Father had mentioned having a sister a couple times, but she rarely came up in conversations. Now I knew why. She was so unlike Father, it almost seemed absurd that they were related at all. Father was always so silent and passive, and now this melodramatic woman waltzes in, claiming to be his sister? Honestly, the thought crossed my mind that maybe word had gotten around that Father was leaving some grand inheritance, and this woman had heard about it and thought to go claim it for some easy money.
The most tragic look crossed her face, "If only I had made it sooner. But, as I'm sure you know, Savannah is an extremely long and tiresome journey, especially with my delicate sensibilities." Anna waved her hand in the air as if shooing the thought away, "But I can fill you in on all the details later. In the meantime, I absolutely must see my dear sister-in-law to offer my condolences."
My eyes swept the foyer, desperately looking for Eliza or Kara or anybody, really. No luck. "Follow me," I sighed. Looking questioningly at her bags, I asked, "I suppose you plan to stay? Why don't we get you settled in the guest room first."
"That would be just lovely."
I stood waiting for Anna to grab her bags, but it quickly became apparent that she expected me to carry them. "Right this way," I mumbled through gritted teeth after scooping up the bags. Looking quite satisfied with herself, Anna followed me upstairs to the guest room. She winced when I haphazardly flung her bags on the bed, "You can unpack whenever you're ready. A chamber pot is under the bed, and the outhouse is in the backyard. I'll have Kara fill the washbasin in a few minutes. Is there anything else I can get for you?"
For half a second it looked as if Anna was going to make a complaint, but she seemingly changed her mind. "No, I believe that's all. Now, I must see my poor sister."
Although I wasn't on the best of terms with Mother, I knew for a fact that I didn't want Anna to find out the extent of Mother's condition. Unfortunately as it was, I couldn't think of any way around it. Anna was set on seeing her, and that was that. I needed to buy some time, "I think she's in her room, but I'm not certain." Of course she was in her room. Where else would she have been? "I'll go check and forewarn her of your arrival. I'll come back and fetch you."
I half expected Anna to protest, but she seemed to think my request reasonable. I hurried down the hall to Mother's room and knocked on the closed door before letting myself in. Her room was dark and stuffy, almost giving it a suffocating effect. Mother was lying in bed, her curly red hair a tangled mess around her head, huge bags under her eyes, and skin so pale it blended in with the sheets surrounding her. She looked so small in her giant four poster bed, almost as if it were swallowing her up. She looked terrible. "Good morning, Mother. How are you feeling today?" I brightly chirped while throwing open the curtains.
Mother scrunched up her face as light flooded the room. "All right," she spoke so softly I almost didn't even hear her.
"I came to tell you we have a visitor. Aunt Anna came here to see us all the way from Savannah." I was curious to see how she would respond to this. If she didn't know of any Anna, there was still a possibility that Mother's memory was off and Anna really was my aunt. On flipside, I knew if Mother did know who she was, then Anna was without a doubt Father's sister. "She wishes to see you right away. Would you like me to help you dress before she comes?"
Mother dismissively waved her hand, "No, no, just let her in. I don't have the strength to get up."
I won't lie. I was immensely relieved that I wouldn't have to go about the somewhat daunting task of making Mother look presentable. I've never exactly been the caretaker type, opting instead to hide away in my room and letting someone else deal with things. On this particular day, I was getting paid back.
Returning to the guest room, I found Anna gazing at herself in a little mirror. "She's delighted to see you."
"Wonderful," Anna set the mirror down gently.
Not wanting to upset her 'delicate sensibilities,' I decided to warn Anna of the state of my mother's mind. "I'm afraid she hasn't left her bed since Father died. She isn't exactly herself as of late..." While that statement was entirely true, I decided to leave out the part that Mother was actually behaving better than she had in years.
Anna clasped her hands to her heart, "I can only imagine how difficult it must be for her, poor dear. I myself am completely heartbroken, and I haven't seen my little George in years."
Reluctantly I led her into Mother's room. Although they supposedly knew one another, I still felt compelled to introduce them. "Mother, this is Aunt Anna, as I'm sure you remember. Anna, this is my mother, Irene.
"Oh, Irene, I haven't seen you in years!" Anna exclaimed. "My, oh my, you are still as lovely as the last time I saw you."
Mother smiled weakly, "Thank you. You haven't changed much yourself." There it was. There was my answer. This obnoxious woman truly was my aunt. What luck.
Anna snorted, but a distinct look of pride shone through her rounded features. "I have come to offer my condolences. Please, if there is anything I can do, don't even hesitate to ask."
I couldn't help but wonder what she would do if I asked her to leave.
Mother nodded absently; It was obvious that she was tired. Anna didn't seem to notice, or maybe she just didn't care. "I'm staying a few nights, I hope you don't mind. Your daughter showed me to a room. She is such a darling girl." Glancing at me, she asked, "What was your name again, dear?"
"It's Kate."
Already turning her attention back to my mother, she halfheartedly murmured, "I'll try to remember that."
Hoping to move things right along, I suggested we go down for lunch.
"That sounds splendid, as I am simply famished. Will you join us, Irene?"
Mother shook her head, "I'll eat up here."
Anna clasped Mother's pale, bony hand with both of her gloved ones, "Very well, but I am coming right back as soon as I'm finished eating."
When we reached the dining room, Anna swept into the chair that I had sat in for every meal for as long as I've been able to eat at the table. Awkwardly I plopped into Robert's empty place. It felt odd sitting in a different chair. I had grown so accustomed to seeing the view of the room from the other side of the table, it almost felt like I was in an entirely different room altogether.
"This looks magnificent!" Anna exclaimed as Eliza began setting the table.
"The plates are stacked up right there, just grab one and help yourself," I explained while reaching for a plate.
Anna looked perplexed at the idea of serving herself, but she recovered from it quickly. Neatly she arranged small portions of food on her plate and began to nibble on tiny bites. "You had a brother, didn't you? What was his name? Roger or something?"
Wiping my face with a napkin, I corrected, "Robert. He's off fighting in the war though. I sent him word of Father's death in hopes that they'll let him come home for a week or two. It feels as if I haven't seen him in ages."
"Your family must be so very proud."
"We're trying to be, anyway," I smiled stiffly.
Anna blinked at me in disbelief. "How can you not be proud of a brave young man willing to die for the Confederate States of America? One of the most honorable things a man can do is give up his life for a greater cause!"
Shrugging, I explained, "I'd rather him be safe at home instead of risking his life who-knows-where. I suppose if he had to die, I would rather him die a hero, but quite frankly I don't want him to die at all." A smile found its way to my lips as a thousand memories flooded my mind. "Robert has always been my closest friend and companion, so it's been quite an adjustment getting used to him being away. It does get a little easier with each week though."
With raised eyebrows, Anna glared at me disapprovingly. "That's just plain ridiculous. Don't you have close girl friends?"
"Friendships have a funny habit of never really working out for me," I stared down at my plate.
Anna just sat there, completely mystified by that concept, it seems. Clearly she must have many friends although I can't fathom how anyone would want to be friends with her. "You mean to tell me that you don't have a single friend? That is very unusual, not to mention unhealthy! Proper young ladies should absolutely not spend all of their time traipsing around after their brothers. It's... it's not natural!"
"It didn't hurt me," I clamped down hard on my lip to keep from saying anything that might get me in trouble.
Anna shook her head in annoyance, and we finished the rest of our meal in silence. She had no right to criticize my relationship with my own family. How dare she insist that I 'traipse around' after Robert as if I'm a lost duckling? Poor Father, having to spend his childhood with this dreadful person...
Even though she had just arrived, I was already counting down the time for her to leave.