fifteen

Paul found Colonel Durham in his home office that morning. 

“Good morning, Paul,” Colonel Durham said, when Paul came into the room. “What can I do for you?”

Paul shut the door behind him and sat down in the chair across from the colonel. He swallowed hard, and tried to find the words to begin. He took a folded paper out of his pocket. “I remember that you were looking for ways you could re-connect more with your daughters. I asked my dad if he had any recommendations about raising daughters, and I wrote down a few things he said,” he handed Colonel Durham the folded paper.

Colonel Durham took it. “Your father has how many daughters?”

“Five. The oldest is thirty-two, and the youngest is eighteen. They all get along with him just fine.”

“I see,” the man read over the paper silently for a few minutes. “Some of this I try to do already. ‘Speak respectfully to them.’ I always try to do that. ‘Listen to them.’ Well, if they would talk to me, I would listen to them.” He read over the paper and frowned. “This is a lot. I’m not sure if I’d have time to do all these things. ‘Take her out on a date periodically.’ Paul, I have a hard time trying to get some special time with my wife, let alone all those girls. Did your father do that?”

“Yes,” Paul said. “He and my mom would go on a date about once a month on their wedding anniversary day, and he’d also schedule time to take my sisters out to breakfast, or lunch, or whatever once a month too.”

“But he had five and I have twelve,” Colonel Durham said with a wry smile. “I’d spend half of every month on a date. Well, maybe that would help. I guess I could take them out to lunch on the days I work at home… All right, I’ll think about it.  Thanks for taking the time to put this together.”

“You’re welcome sir.” Paul rose.

“There is one other thing I’d like to ask you about,” Colonel Durham looked at him keenly.

“Yes sir?”

“Sit down.”

Paul sat again, and Colonel Durham took off his glasses and folded them. “I was up very early this morning,” he began. “And I was sitting at the kitchen table when I heard you and my daughter Rachel talking in the garage. Then she snuck inside into the bathroom, and I suppose you left. I was surprised, as you can imagine, to hear you two together so early in the day.”

Paul swallowed, suddenly aware of his precarious position.

“Can you tell me what was going on?”

Carefully, Paul considered before he spoke. “I was up early myself, and I came up the drive and saw Rachel right outside the garage. That was how I met her.”

“What was she doing out there so early in the morning?”

He paused. “Sir, I...need to be free not to say anything about that at this point.”

Colonel Durham looked at him for a long moment, then sat back and put his glasses back on, shaking his head. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“But I wanted to tell you that I heard you two.”

Paul’s stomach churned. “Thank you, sir.”

Colonel Durham sighed again. “I am continuing to pray.”

“Keep it up. Please.”

Sallie, concerned about how the younger girls were dragging during the day, was making them take afternoon naps. Now that they were getting extra sleep, Debbie and Linette were becoming even more proficient at their act. On Monday, they did their first public three-way fountain with Paul, to great audience appreciation. After the act was over, a local reporter approached them wanting to do a story on them, and Debbie and Linette were delighted. They posed charmingly for the photographer. Paul also got a chance to highlight his own work in the article. Afterwards, one of the festival organizers stopped by to tell Paul and the girls how much their act was enjoyed, and extended an invitation for them to return next year. The girls were thrilled.

They were having a celebration with ice cream cones when they were surprised by a group of family members. Miriam and Cheryl had brought over Robbie and Jabez, and Brittany and Melanie were tagging along. Paul suggested the young girls take a break and go on some rides with their sisters, but they wouldn’t hear about it unless he went with them. So he called it an early day and the jugglers packed up. Then they walked off to explore the fairgrounds in a chattering group.

Paul wasn’t surprised when they happened to meet Pete and Taylor, and less surprised when the two boys joined their party. He was introduced to them, although he already knew who they were, of course. The high school boys initially seemed a bit uncomfortable around him, but Paul talked easily to them about colleges and sports, so they warmed up. He liked Pete, but Taylor was a little less friendly. It was obvious that he and Cheryl had something between them, and Paul caught them whispering furtively together when they thought no one was watching. In contrast, Pete and Miriam joked together as though they were two guys.

Debbie and Linette each took charge of one of the baby boys, and were carrying them on their shoulders, showing them all the sights that would be interesting to small boys, like the ponies and the Revolutionary War band. Not wanting to be a third wheel, Paul focused his attention on the two outwardly quiet middle girls—Brittany and Melanie. They had always struck him as the most unpretentious of all the Durham girls.

Knowing that she was a good athlete, Paul challenged Brittany to best him at one of the fair games, and Brittany took him up on it with alacrity. They let the rest of the group go on while they competed at the bean toss, the hoop throw, and several other games. Melanie applauded them both equally. Eventually the couples joined them at the games, and they spent at least an hour and too many quarters to count getting even with each other. 

They ended up the day at the picnic tables, eating popcorn and hot dogs and talking, while Jabez slept in Debbie’s arms, and Robbie occupied himself with the balloons they had bought him. 

Eventually the guys said goodbye, and left them at the picnic table. Paul remained with the Durham girls, and they chatted a bit longer as the afternoon drew on.

“We should go home to dinner soon,” Cheryl said regretfully. “That was a lot of fun, though.”

“Paul,” Miriam said, toying with her straw, her blue eyes snapping, “do us a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t mention to anyone that Taylor and Pete were with us?”

“You mean, to your parents?”

“Of course,” Miriam looked uncomfortable.

“You weren’t doing anything wrong. Why do you have to keep it a secret?”

“Because it would cause problems,” Cheryl said. “We’re not supposed to be spending one-on-one time with guys.”

Paul paused. “I doubt it will come up,” he said. “But why do you feel you have to sneak?”

“Because Mom and Dad don’t trust us,” Miriam said. She was obviously irked.

Paul was silent, the two-faced nature of the girls’ relationship with their parents confronting him once again. He hated it.

“It’s not so bad to have a harmless secret from them, is it?” Cheryl said uncertainly.

Paul shrugged. “It’s on your conscience. Does it bother you?”

“Sometimes.”

“It should.”

Melanie spoke up suddenly. “What about if you have a secret from someone you love that you don’t want to keep?” she asked.

The other girls became more uncomfortable. Debbie and Linette eyed Paul with worried expressions. Paul tried to look nonchalant, knowing what Melanie was asking.

“Well, if it bothers your conscience to keep it, and you don’t intend to cause hurt, then in some cases you should bring the situation to light,” he said.

“Even if that would hurt an awful lot of people?” Miriam demanded.

“Or just one person?” Melanie said quietly.

“Sometimes that’s all right to get it out in the open,” he said, meeting her sad brown eyes. He got to his feet. “Shouldn’t you girls get going now?”

They packed up their things silently, and the older girls were giving him hard looks. His juggling partners were guilty and a bit fearful. He tried to keep a light tone, and helped carry Jabez back to the car. But he could hear their whispers in the background, and had no doubt that this would be a topic of much sisterly discussion later on when they were out of his earshot.

The next day, the ideas that had been swimming around in Rachel’s mind gelled at last. She finished picking tomatoes, washed her hands, and went in search of Melanie as the afternoon wore on. Her favorite sister was usually the first person to hear her ideas.

She found Melanie upstairs on her lower bunk bed, dozing, and sat down beside her. “Melanie, I want to do something special for Prisca for her birthday.”

“Okay,” Melanie said softly. She sat up, and rubbed her eyes. “It’s this Friday, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Look, you know that Prisca has been having a hard time lately, with Dad and the church, and all that. I want to do something to—well, just really give her a good birthday, to let her know that we all love her. Maybe we sisters could do something special together for her. What do you think?”

Melanie started to smile. “I think that’s a great idea, Ray.”

“Good. I was thinking that you could help me come up with some ideas of what Prisca would really like. Like, we could each write a special card for her.”

“I’ll think about it,” Melanie said, and put her head back down, wearily. Rachel noticed that she looked drained, and recalled that lately Melanie had been looking pale and drawn. Melanie wasn’t thriving in the moonlight, Rachel saw, and felt a sting of conscience.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” she said quietly. “You need to make up your sleep.”

“Yes,” Melanie said, staring at the wall. Her eyes looked close to defeat.

“Mel, is something wrong?”

Her sister was silent, but her eyes blinked. They were sad half-moons now.

“Mel, something is really bothering you. I can tell. What’s the matter?”

Melanie sniffed, and wiped her nose. “Please don’t be mad, Rachel.”

“I won’t,” Rachel promised, stroking her sister’s hair, concerned. Melanie, who had such a heart for others, had difficulty in talking about her own emotions sometimes, afraid of hurting people’s feelings.

“I—I don’t like lying,” Melanie said.

“Lying?” Rachel whispered. “You mean, our secret?”

Melanie nodded.

“Having a secret among all of us isn’t lying, Melanie,” Rachel objected.

“I know,” Melanie whispered. “But every time we go, my heart gets a little heavier. I feel I’m getting closer and closer to lying.” Tears ran down her face. “I don’t want Mom and Dad to be mad at you. I don’t want you to have to lie to them. I don’t want to have to hide anything. I just want to be free and truthful, you know?”

Rachel swallowed, and kept stroking Melanie’s hair. “Yes,” she said at last, her heart like a knot inside her. “Melanie, I wish I could work it out,” she said at last. “So that you could be happy and we all could be happy as well. I just don’t know if I can.”

“I know,” Melanie said in a bare hush. “It’s just making my heart hurt, that’s all. It gets hard.”  She rubbed her eyes. “I have to tell you something,” she said finally. “I can’t keep hiding from you, at any rate, when you trust me so much.”

“Go ahead, tell me,” Rachel said encouragingly.

Melanie took a deep breath, and rolled over to look at her. “Paul knows our secret. He’s been watching us.”

Rachel blinked. “What?”

“I don’t know how he found out. But I’ve seen him hiding on Alan’s boat under the canvas and he goes with us to the island.”

Rachel was silent for a moment as she took this in. “How long has he been doing this?”

“For a while.” Melanie covered her eyes. “I thought you should know.”

Rachel was unable to think of anything to say. A fury was rising in her, bolstered by a fresh, new fear. All this time, she had thought they were so safe.

“Are you mad?” Melanie asked, her voice quavering.

“At you? Nonsense,” Rachel hugged her tightly. “I can see how hard it was for you to tell me. Now lie back down and get some sleep.”

“All right,” Melanie said, a half-sigh. It was clear she had needed to get this off her chest for some time. “Please don’t be too angry.”

“Go to sleep,” Rachel whispered, tousling her hair and getting up from the bed. She didn’t want to hurt Melanie. “You were right to tell me,” she said with an effort, and walked downstairs, closing the attic door behind her.

Now alone, she swore beneath her breath, and stormed downstairs.

 

This time, she didn’t bother to tell Sallie she was borrowing the car. She grabbed the keys and a stack of library books as an excuse, and went out to the car. “Tell Sallie I’m going to return these books!” she bellowed out the window to Cheryl, and threw the car into reverse before she could hear Cheryl’s protests.

She drove to the fair, parked the car, and hurried through the gravel lot, her face flaming but her insides tight. Entering the fair with a wave at the ticket booth attendant, she made her way through the thin crowds of cheerful people in colonial costume. She was hot and more bothered than usual by the farce of it all. She worked her way among the craft and game booths until she found the place where Paul and the girls usually juggled. When she got there, Paul was there alone, playing on his flute. At that particular moment, he had no audience.

She walked up to him, cutting off his song. “Where are the girls?” she asked.

He lowered his instrument and looked up at her. “They’re off getting us some lunch.”

“Fine. Then come with me. We need to talk.”

“All right.”

He packed up his flute while she waited, seething inside. When she was certain he was following her, she walked away.

She deliberately picked a path behind the booths that led out to the field behind the festival. She walked quickly to keep well ahead of him, not desiring to make any small talk that might put him at ease. 

When she had walked a good distance out into the waving grass of the field, she turned on him.

“What’s the deal with your spying on us?”

She saw by his reaction that he had guessed already the reason for her fury, and that only made her angrier. “What do you have to say?” she demanded when it was clear he didn’t feel the need to explain himself.

“I told Melanie that she should tell you if she felt it burdened her conscience,” he said. “She’s suffering, Rachel. She’s been suffering for some time to keep your secret. I hope you can see that.”

Breathing hard she said, “Did my father hire you to spy on us or something?”

“No.”

“But you’ve spied. And pried. And now you know everything we’ve been doing.” Scorn spilled over into her words. “What are you, a peeping Tom? Too afraid to show yourself? Or are you some kind of sicko? I cannot figure you out! You talk about being honest and open, and yet, here you are sneaking around, spying on us in the dark.”

He was staring beyond her, red-faced.

“Why are you doing it? Is my dad behind it? He is, isn’t he? I knew he would try something like this! You military guys! What, do you have to obey him because he’s a colonel?”

“No.”

“But he did put you up to this, didn’t he?” she demanded again.

Paul was silent, and she began to be afraid. Seeing her predicament, she was very cold.

She gripped him by the arms, trying to get him to look at her. “Paul. You have got to promise me that you are never going to tell him. Do you know what will happen if you do? Do you?” her voice was getting shrill, and soon she was almost yelling in his face. “Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

She dropped her hands and stared at him in contemptuous disbelief. “So. You know what it will do to us. But you’re going to do it anyway. So that you can be proud that you did the right thing. Oh, Paul, you’re so holy.”  And she slapped him across the face.

Paul stood, his face slapped to the right, breathing hard, blinking.  He hadn’t moved, but Rachel suddenly became aware of how tall and muscular he was. She felt a sudden new fear creep through her, even though he had not even looked at her. His eyes were on the ground, cast down where her blow had forced them.

Her chest tightened, and she backed away. “You’re going to be sorry,” she said, her blood racing through her forehead. “You tell him anything, and you’ll be sorry.”

She stumbled, turned, and raced back to the car. Already she knew what she was going to do. Her throat was closing and her hands were quivering, but she forced herself to the task.

 

She drove home and walked inside, holding her hands so that no one else would see them shaking.  In her mind she knew what she was going to say. 

Her dad was in his home office, on the phone. She stood at the door and waited for a minute that seemed infinite. Finally he hung up. She walked into his office, shut the door behind her, and looked at her father.  His face was surprised and perplexed.

“Rachel, what’s wrong?” he asked.

I’m doing this for all of us, she thought. To protect our secret.

“Dad,” she said with an effort. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“What about? Sit down.”

“Paul,” she said, and forced her knees to bend, to sit on the chair. Finally she sat on the edge.

She hadn’t planned the silence, but it was a moment before she could bring out the words. “He tried to force me to kiss him.”

He leaned forward. “What?”

“He tried to force himself on me,” she said again. “He didn’t want me to tell you, but I had to. He’s been watching me for some time. He’s been watching all of us sisters. And then, this morning—I just told you what he did.”

Her father sat back in the chair and she knew that she had ruined Paul. Whatever he told her dad now would seem like excuses. She had done it. Told a lie, a real lie, with intent to hurt.  The tears came up into her eyes, and she tried to push them down. Darn it, she was not trying to dissemble. She was really crying.

“Does this have anything to do with you both being out so early in the morning together the other day?” her father’s voice came into her mind. “I heard you come in.”

The other day—the day the night-world had abandoned her on the beach. Yes, it was the night’s revenge—the sand was in her mouth again. She could feel its dryness. Was it too great a price to pay? 

“No,” she whispered. “I mean, yes.”

“Rachel, I think you and I should have a talk with Paul. Can you handle that?”

The girl who had once been Rachel Durham nodded.

“What happened to your face?” Debbie asked Paul. “It’s all red.”

Paul put a hand to his cheek.

“I didn’t turn the other cheek in time,” he said, a bad quip. “What’s for lunch?”

The girls had brought back historical food for lunch—beef sandwiches and apple cider drinks.  He started to eat his portion, with the mere semblance of enjoyment. 

“Ready to start again?” he asked.

Debbie said, “Hey, look! It’s Dad and Rachel.”

Paul’s stomach churned again, and he pushed aside the food and got up.  Colonel Durham approached him, every inch of him full of formidable military bearing. Rachel, her arms folded, was not looking at him.

“Debbie and Linette, Rachel’s here to drive you home.”

“Why?” Debbie demanded. “We’re only halfway done.”

“Pack up and go wait in Rachel’s car. Is it open, Rachel?”

Rachel, her hair blowing across her cheek, her eyes distracted, nodded.

Debbie started to object, but Paul said, “Go ahead, girls. Listen to your dad.”

“Corporal Fester, I’d like you to come and talk with Rachel and me.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Paul followed them away from the fairgrounds to the car. Colonel Durham and Rachel got in the front, and he got in the back.

Colonel Durham put on the engine and the air conditioning, but didn’t move the car. Instead, he turned around in the seat and looked at Paul.

“Corporal, Rachel has told me something I find quite disturbing.”

Paul listened in silence to the ugly accusation. He looked at Rachel while the words came out.  She was in profile, her tanned cheek smooth, her brown brows furrowed and set. Her blue-green eyes seemed to have faded.  They were dead, empty.

So that was it. She had jumped ahead, taken the advantage, and tried to destroy his credibility, because of the information she now knew he had.

He heard the faint snap of the ropes that held his trapeze wire, and felt himself hurtling to the ground.

Now Rachel turned and glanced at him quickly. Maybe she expected him to speak, to lash back at her, to attempt to reveal anything, now that he was accused.

He was silent.

There was a chance—a slim chance—that there was another trapeze bar he could catch to break his fall. In order to seize it, he had to trust again, and fall, open-armed.

“Rachel, could you please leave us now and take the girls home?” Colonel Durham asked.

The girl with the secret seemed to dare him to shoot her down. But as he saw her get out of the car and walk away, her hands were clutched tightly around her.

“Corporal Fester, is what she said true?”

Paul looked in the eyes of the older man, eyes that looked tired and worn, though his warrior’s jaw was set.

What could he say?

It’s not true. But his word against hers: he couldn’t prove it.

Tell him everything.  At this point, that would destroy everything.

A voice inside was telling him what a fool he was for getting involved in this situation, with an army colonel’s family, none the less. Paul’s military record, his entrance into medical school—he could see it all dissolving like sand through his fingers.

But I risked all that when I said yes to this.

 At last, he managed to say, “Colonel Durham, I’m not sure how to answer that. Perhaps it’s best if I just stay away from your family from now on.”

There was a silence while the two looked at each other.

At last, Colonel Durham looked down, his voice steady with an effort. “I agree. I guess it was a bad idea from the start. I think you should leave now.”

In his mind’s eye Paul saw the last trapeze bar he was groping for swing away from his outstretched hand as he continued to fall.

“Yes, sir,” he said quietly. “Colonel Durham, are you going to report this to the police?”

Colonel Durham looked up abruptly, surprised. “I’m not sure.”

“Ask Rachel if you should,” Paul said. “Goodbye then.”

He got out of the car, and walked back to the fairgrounds to pick up his juggling bag. The police could find him easily enough if they wanted him, he had no doubt of that. All the same, he felt a sudden urge to leave town.