“Atone.” He finished my sentence for me.
“Yes, though it’s become much more than that to me,” she said. “I see the … injustice. I want to be part of fixing it.”
“Got to be hard to live with that guilt,” he said.
I nodded. I liked that he didn’t try to take that guilt away.
“You’ve never told anyone?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Why’re you telling me?” he asked.
Why was I? “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just burdened you with a—”
“No. Hush.” He knocked my shoulder lightly with his. “If I can’t handle that burden then I’m not much of a man. Or a friend.”
I looked at him. He wasn’t going to touch me. He wouldn’t make that move himself. I reached over to lay my hand on his where it rested on his knee.
He lifted my hand and moved it back to my own thigh. I felt my cheeks grow hot.
“Listen, Ellie,” he said with a sigh. “I care about you. And I think … I know … you care about me. But we can’t let it be any more than that.”
“Oh, I know,” I said, locking my hands together in my lap. I felt my cheeks color and was glad the moon was no brighter than it was. “I don’t think of you as more than a friend.” Did I? Was I lying?
“I think you’re really pretty,” he said. “I think you’re beautiful, actually. You’re smart and you have a big heart. I watch you when we canvass, how you’re genuinely interested in the people and their problems. And you don’t give up on SCOPE even when you’re scared or have to sleep in a bed with a dozen little kids or your father tries to drag you away. I admire you.” He looked away as though he might have said too much. After a moment, he turned back to me. “I don’t have a problem with Black and white mixing in general, but it’s not right for me,” he said. “Not how I feel about this … path … this Black path … I have to be on right now. My people have to stick together. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Honestly, he was overwhelming me with so many words. I could barely sort one word from another. He thought I was beautiful? He admired me? I did understand, though. What he said fit who he was. I realized in that moment that I’d been hoping, deep down where I didn’t understand my own feelings, for something more from him. I should have known better.
“Yes, I understand,” I said.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. We sat facing the cornfield. The man in the moon seemed like a benevolent third person, sprinkling the tops of the cornstalks with light.
“I’m glad you told me about Mattie,” Win said finally. “Glad you felt like you could. It helps me understand that … darkness I see in you sometimes.”
“I didn’t know I had a darkness,” I said.
He smiled. “Yes, you do. It’s a mile wide and a mile long.” He got to his feet, readying to leave. “What happened with your friend Mattie might have been your first reason for joining SCOPE,” he said, “but you’ve done enough work now. You’ve repaid that debt. Now you’re staying because you’re a good person. Give yourself some credit, Ellie, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I sat on the steps, watching him walk down the road to the small, run-down cabin where I could see a kerosene lantern flickering in the window, maybe to guide him home. Then I got to my feet and tiptoed my way through the dark house to DeeDee’s bedroom, where the little girl remained in her deep, drugged, sleep.
I didn’t realize I was still wearing Win’s shirt until I began to undress for bed. It was green and short-sleeved. Soft. It smelled of soap and sweat. I decided to sleep in it. I slipped off my skirt. My loafers. I made sure the wooden dowels were in place at the windows. Then I lay down on the mattress in the closet and the evening came back to me in a rush. I’d felt such joy at the beginning of the protest. So many people showed up. So much enthusiasm. Such passion. The song circle was wonderful. When the heckling started, it had seemed so mild at first … until it wasn’t.
But what I would remember best about the night was talking to Win on the porch. Telling him everything I’d carried around with me for the past nine years.
Two hours later, I was still awake. I barely knew what I was doing when I got up. I put my skirt back on. My shoes. I left the house half in a daze. The full moon lit up the rutted road. The cornstalks on my left, the whiskery weeds on my right. I walked like I knew the path well, like I’d made this walk a dozen times before. I arrived at the little unpainted house, the old wood silver in the moonlight. I knew which window was his, but I had no intention of knocking on the glass. No intention of waking him. I lowered myself into the spiky weeds beneath his window, my back pressed against the side of the house, my arms wrapped around my shins. I leaned my head against the old wood and felt his nearness. When I shut my eyes, a sense of longing filled my chest. I let it come, let it go. This was enough, I thought. This closeness. I didn’t dare want anything more.
Chapter 33
KAYLA
2010
My daughter is missing.
Samantha Johns shows up at the same time as my father, this time with siren blaring. I can’t remember her name to introduce her, even though it’s been barely a week since she helped me clean the trash off my lawn. We stand in the driveway next to that lawn now. On the street behind us, the sound of hammers and saws fills the air.
Daddy goes into the house to check every nook and cranny, and Officer Johns—Sam—asks me questions. Where was she? How long was she out of my sight? I feel like we need to be moving. We need to do something.
I see Ellie and Brenda coming quickly up Shadow Ridge Lane toward us. Ellie’s at a jog, Brenda trailing a few feet behind. “What’s wrong?” Ellie calls out before she reaches us.
“Rainie’s missing,” I say. “My daughter.”
“Oh no,” Brenda says. She’s winded from rushing up the street, her face flushed and glistening with sweat. The longer side of her angled haircut is pasted to her damp cheek.
“What happened?” Ellie asks.
“We need to start looking for her!” I say. All the questions make me feel like a terrible mother. I am a terrible mother. I left her out there alone because I was more worried about my damn window treatments.
“What happened to your hands?” Sam asks.
I look down at my hands. My palms are dirty and beaded with blood. “I ran up the trail to try to find her and tripped.”
Sam lifts her phone and makes a call, relaying information about her location and Rainie’s disappearance. Daddy comes out of the house then. I look at him hopefully, although I know he couldn’t have found her inside, and he shakes his head. Then he notices Ellie, and his steps slow.
“I didn’t know your father was here,” Ellie says in a whisper.
“Hi, Brenda, Ellie,” my father says formally when he reaches us. “Good to see you.”
“Hey, Reed,” Brenda says, but Ellie looks away without a word.
“Let’s go check out that trail,” Sam says, hooking her phone back to her belt. She looks toward the vans that line the street and the unfinished houses full of carpenters and handymen. “We need to speak to some of these guys, too.”