Chapter 7

The sky was overcast when she woke up. It had a muddy, yellowish color, as if it were jaundiced and sick. The air was heavy and wet and close. It pressed down on her and made her want to gasp like a beached fish. She got out of bed and saw that the sky's hue had changed the colors of her room. The gold rug was dirty looking, and the pink on the walls, which had been bright and cheery before, now seemed drab.

She sighed heavily, thinking back, wondering if perhaps she'd dreamed it all. As if to convince herself, she went through the connecting bathrooms and looked into Artemus'. It was empty and dim. There was a cloth draped over the wall where the curtains had been. She took leaden steps toward his bed and lifted the cloth. The pictures were still there. She didn't look at them, but dropped the cloth back into place. Somehow, the looking had given her a sense of determination, of sureness that this was the only way it could end.

She began packing. Hope flared in her once or twice and then faded as she realized there was no other way. When she was finished, she put her suitcases near the door and went out into the hall. There was a moment when she didn't want to have to wait for Swede to bring the papers. If it was over, then she wanted to leave as soon as possible and not drag it out.

She sighed and went downstairs, glad, at least, that Valerie might not be up in time to watch her leave the house. She went into the kitchen and saw Mary sitting at the small table there, drinking coffee. Not even she looked happy this morning. A worried frown wrinkled her forehead, and she kept fingering a pair of glasses that were on the table.

"Good morning, Mary," Evelyn said.

The woman jerked around as if being startled out of a trance. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Crenshaw. You're up early this morning. I'll get your breakfast right away."

Evelyn watched her get up. Her motions were labored, as if there were a great weight on her, too. Evelyn thought it ironic to be called Mrs. Crenshaw. Just as she was ready to leave the room, Mary began talking.

"Isn't it a dreary day today?" she asked, glancing through the window at the sky. "I heard on the radio we're going to have a squall line pass through. Storm warnings are already up for the boaters." She cracked eggs into a pan. "I wish it would hurry up and be over before Mr. Crenshaw gets back."

Evelyn looked at her. "Oh? Why is that, Mary?"

"Woody forgot his glasses. He couldn't find them this morning. I found them out in front.

They must have fallen out of his pocket when he brought in the paper for Mr. Crenshaw."

"Well ... can't he see without them?" Evelyn asked, glancing at the frames on the table.

"Oh, I suppose it's nothing, really," Mary said, forcing levity. "He has his sunglasses. The only reason I was a little worried was because of the squall. Woodard's eyes aren't what they used to be, and you know how much wind and rain these summer storms have in them." She smiled quickly. "I'm just a worry-wart, that's all. Mr. Crenshaw probably won't be coming home until late tonight, and it'll all be over by then."

Evelyn stared through the window at the boat. It rode gently in the dark indigo water, tugging at its lines like a ponderous animal seeking freedom.

"Yes," she said, half to herself. "It'll be all over by then."

"Well, here you are, ma'am--nice and hot and fresh. We get the best eggs from a man Captain Bates sent around. Here, let me put all this on a tray and take it in for you."

"Mary, did Artemus say anything to you this morning?"

"Say anything, ma'am?"

Evelyn looked at her. "Never mind, Mary. I'll take it in. You finish your coffee."

She sat at the table, took two bites, and nearly gagged. The thought of food sickened her. She sipped at her coffee and felt it hit her stomach and make it more jittery. The sky began to darken, rapidly. She got up and went onto the back terrace to watch. Black clouds came boiling out of the west, tumbling through the sky like the flow of a monstrous, seething river. Brilliant flashes of lightning streaked silently through the massive, boulder-like formations. A breath of chill wind rippled the placid surface of the river and came silently across the yard to caress her cheek with its cold, death-like hand. She shivered slightly and watched the awesome display press relentlessly closer.

"We're going to have a blow, Momsy," A voice behind her said. Valerie's tone was cold and slick, like slime. "In a few more minutes, you won't even be able to see the boat. I like it when it storms. I always feel like cuddling up in bed with someone, don't you?"

Evelyn turned slowly. She felt her head and scalp go hot. Her peripheral vision narrowed until the only thing she could see was the sultry, arrogant smile on Valerie's face. She felt her arm moving swiftly through the air as if it were moving by itself. She heard the sound her hand made, she saw the way Valerie's head snapped to one side, but she felt nothing in her hand. There was no pain, no tingling--it was like a club that had been detached from her arm. She swung it again and again, until the cold wind came in a steady, sustained breeze and made the palm fronds outside clatter menacingly.

Valerie dabbed at the corner of her mouth and looked at the spot of blood on her finger. Her eyes burned with an evil light, and the leering smile on her face was wicked.

"I'm going to remember that for a long time, Momsy," she said. "Just the way you'll never forget last night. When I show Daddy what a physical, vicious bitch you really are, then he'll kick you out without even blinking."

"You can save your breath, Valerie. Now, got out of my sight, or I'll scratch your witch's eyes out."

A solid gust of icy wind slammed her in the back. The palms bent far over, shedding their coconuts like huge hailstones that dug into the soft ground. Big drops of water came thumping across the river to batter the grass and hammer coldly against her back. A solid, nearly black curtain of water came behind them, churning the river, into a froth.

"We'd better close up the house, Mrs. Crenshaw," Mary said urgently, half running through the house. "They said on the radio it's spawning tornadoes north of Okeechobee and ... "

A deafening crack and rumble punctuated her words as the sky seemed to explode with fight and noise. The rain hissed down . with a nearly shrill sound that set Evelyn's teeth on edge. She ran through the house to help Mary, watching draperies stand out from the walls and a table lamp blow over and shatter on the floor. Rain sprayed in through the screens under the force of the wind outside and drenched her as she struggled to close a window. Then she was pushed aside, and Keith was closing it for her.

"You're all wet," he grinned, brushing water from himself energetically. "Jesus, that really bounced me out of bed! I'll bet you don't have storms like this up in St. Louis, huh?"

"Hello, Keith," she said quietly.

He looked at her and blinked. "Evelyn, what's the matter?" he asked, the ready smile fading from his face.

"Momsy's leaving, Keith," Valerie oozed, coming up beside him. "Now it's just the two of us again. Won't that be nice? Just you and me and Daddy."

"What?" he blurted, his head swiveling from one to the other of them. His face grew as dark as the world around them. "Why, you dirty goddamn fucking bitch!" he shouted. He raised his arm and made a fist. Valerie looked at it without flinching.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Keith? Hit me--slug me like a man." She laughed throatily. "Or can't you do that, either, darling brother? You can't fuck me or hit me. Now do you know why I don't pay any attention to you?" She tipped her head back and laughed wickedly and walked away to a chair, gloating.

"Evelyn, what happened?" he questioned, gripping her shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, Keith."

"Darling, I still love you. Let me take you away from here."

"You aren't ready to say that, Keith. Nor am I. I have to have time to--to get things straightened out in my mind. I do owe you something, Keith, and I'll be grateful to you for it forever. I think I'm cured. I think I don't have to worry any more after the other night."

"Evelyn--God, Darling, don't torture me with making me remember how wonderful it was and then making me think there'll never be another time!"

The wind and rain pounded against the house, their sound drumming through Evelyn's mind with the indecision. "Keith, wait until it's over, at least," she cried finally. "Don't pressure me now. It's hard enough for me this morning."

"Evelyn, you must. You must!"

"Let go," she said sharply, breaking free of his grip. "God, you're just the way Captain Bates said. Stop twisting my arm. I'm not ready."

"Oh, the hell with Bates. Leave the dumb bastard out of this. All I want is you."

She eyed him sharply. "I thought he was your friend. What do you mean, the hell with him?"

"I don't mean... "

"What he means, Momsy, is that Keith wants what he wants, and nothing else matters. Isn't that right, Keith? Tell her how it was last night at dinner--what you said for Daddy and me just to save yourself from a little pressure, like a squealing rat with his tail caught in a trap."

"Shut up, you bitch!" he yelled violently.

"Go on, tell her, you baby! Tell her how wonderful it was to fuck her all night, the way you told Daddy and me. Describe it again, how it was on the boat. Oh, God, it was priceless, darling brother. You don't know how proud I was of you then. I didn't know you had it in you to fuck like that and make a woman come all those times. Tell her, Keith."

The cackling, evil laughter rang in Evelyn's ears. She stared at him, not believing, then seeing the expression of guilt on his face that confirmed the ultimate betrayal.

"Keith.--You didn't!" she cried. "God--oh, my God! Your poor father. He doesn't deserve you--either one of you!"

"Well, he doesn't deserve anyone like you," Keith said lamely. "Honey, you don't know what it was like when ... "

"You don't deserve me either, damn you!" she cried.

Keith balled his fists and whirled on his sister. "You bitch! You dirty bitch! I'm going to ... "

"Sit down, Keith darling. The storm's nearly over. See, the rain's stopping. You can see the boat again. It's too bad it had to end so soon. I just love storms, don't you?"

Evelyn watched Keith move meekly toward a chair. The room was still but for the diminishing noise outside. After a long time, it stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and rays of sunlight stabbed toward the ground, making it sparkle. The sky had lost its dirty color and was blue and clean again.

Keith looked up, averting his eyes from Evelyn, staring through the front window. "Somebody's coming," he said hollowly.

Evelyn went to the window. She saw the big, balding, hulking figure of Swede struggle out of the car with a briefcase. She went to the door and opened it for him.

"Ah!" he grunted, wiping his feet on the mat. "Dat's vun hell of a storm, ja?" he roared. "Swede, how wonderful!" Valerie cooed. "What brings you here? Daddy isn't home today."

He looked at her. His eyes squinted again, and he wiped his bulbous nose with his hand. Evelyn could tell that he wasn't looking at Valerie in the same way he had the night of the party.

"Ja," he bellowed, assuming everyone else was as deaf as he. "He left my office just before it started. He got plenty vet on the vay to Miami, I bet." He turned to Evelyn. "You know vhy I'm here?"

"Yes. I know."

"Ve go into his study, come."

He lumbered off toward the study, held the door for her, then closed it against Valerie and Keith after another squinting look at them. He shook his head and went to Artemus' desk, opening the briefcase. He took out some papers, pushed through them, and brought out what he wanted. He held them and looked at her. His face was lined and heavy, his head and hands nearly monstrous in size. She hadn't realized what a big-boned, imposing man he was before, until he looked down at her and half whispered with a gravelly voice.

"I don't like dis, Evelyn," he said. "Artemus talked to me a long time. I vish ve had treated you better at the party. I tink I can argue him avay from doing dis if you vant me to try, ja?"

She smiled and touched his arm, taking strength from his dominating form. "No, Swede," she said. "I wish it could be different too, but wishing won't make it so. He's right. It won't work. Not with them still here."

He nodded his head gravely and let out a big sigh. "I don't like it," he said again. He sat heavily in Artemus' chair and started clearing a space on the desk. The phone began to ring. He picked an envelope out of the pile of papers and handed it to her. "He vants you to have dis," he rumbled. There was a knock on the door. "Ja!" he roared, making Evelyn jump.

Mary came in. "Mr. Swede, there's a call for you from your office."

"Tank you, Mary," he said. He pointed at the papers he'd handed Evelyn. "Read and sign," he said curtly. "Everything's taken care of" He picked up the receiver and bellowed into it. "Alfson, ja!"

Evelyn tried to read. The print and the confusing words ran together before her eyes. She flipped the pages and saw the place for her to sign, then went back to the beginning and tried again. She heard Swede grunting into the phone. She looked up and saw that his face was clouded. He glanced at her, and she knew there was something in his eyes, but she couldn't tell what.

"Voodard is all right?" he asked of the caller. "Ja." He sighed with a long, heavy release of air, as if it had been his last. "Vait," he said, turning away from her. "Vat time? Because I vant to know vat time, it's important to me now." He waited for a reply. "All right," he said. He hung up slowly. His eyes squinted, and he passed his hand over his rubbery nose, then surreptitiously brushed at his eyes before looking at her. "Artemus is dead."

Evelyn reeled as if she'd been clubbed. "What! Oh, God!"

"The storm. A truck blew over. Eight cars ran into, it in the rain before ... the details don't matter. Excuse me a moment."

The Swede turned away from her and pulled a big hanky out of his pocket and trumpeted into it. He sat quietly for a long moment, his head bowed and eyes closed, as if asleep. Then he turned back around and looked at her, his grieving finished until later.

"He died after I have taken these papers to court, Evelyn," he said. "But I vill change the time to make you still his wife. Herrick vill do it my vay if I ask, because you haven't signed yet."

God, I don't understand," she said, her voice breaking.

"I explain to you, and then you decide, ja? The papers say you are not his wife at the time he died. Everything goes to Valerie and Keith by his vill. I say, and Herrick vill agree if I ask him, that you are his wife because you haven't signed. Then everything goes to you. You sit here and tink, while I go tell his children." He started to struggle his big body out of the chair.

"Swede, wait--you don't want me to sign, do you?"

"I can't say," he rumbled, shaking his head.

"Please tell me. I ... I don't know what to do. None of us deserves it. I don't want it. I'm sorry he's dead. I mean I do want it, but ... oh, God, I don't know what to do."

"The price is high, Evelyn, I know. Artemus would have vanted you to take it so that dey ... excuse me. I go tell them."

He lumbered out of the room. She sat with her thoughts and emotions swimming inside her, remembering snatches of the past week, the days in the Keys. She thought of Keith--of how he had helped her and betrayed her at the same time. She remembered Valerie's viciousness and of how nightmarish life with her would be now. She looked up when they came into the room, walking as if oh eggshells, both of them, wondering which way she would swing.

"You'd better sign the papers, Momsy," Valerie said finally. "You wouldn't want to have me for a daughter, now, would you? Or maybe you would. After last night, maybe I've changed your mind, huh? Would you like more of that--of me and Gloria? Then you wouldn't have to worry about Keith, because it wouldn't be any good for you to turn around and marry your stepson, would it?"

"Shut up, Valerie," Keith cried. "Evelyn --darling--remember how it was? Remember what you said I did for you? Don't sign, Evelyn. Be our mother. We can be happy together, and nobody will ever know the difference, will they? We can kick her out--send her to school or make her go somewhere. Then it'll be just the two of us--us and all this. We'll keep Mary and Woodard and Captain Bates. She'll throw them all out if you sign. You wouldn't want Captain Bates to be out of a job, would you--a nice guy like him? She hates him. She'll get rid of everybody," he wheedled, his voice going desperate.

"Even you, Keith?" Evelyn asked. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"No, no! I didn't mean that! Evelyn, I didn't mean to tell! They made me tell last night!"

"Keith, shut up," Valerie said. "Let her go. What do you want with her, when you can have me?"

He looked at her. His eyes flicked up and down her body, and he licked nervous lips.

"That's right, Keith. Let her go, and I'll be nice to you. You've always wanted me to be nice to you. I know you have. We'll forget that one time, and I'll make everything up to you. You want me--you've always wanted me. You couldn't stand knowing that Daddy could fuck me and you couldn't. All that'll change, Keith. I swear it will. Just you and me--lonely brother and sister, living together, surrounded by good friends like Gloria and Jack and the others. You don't have to envy them any more, Keith. You don't ever have to go without again. I'll fuck you all you want--any exciting way you can dream up. You know how I love to fuck in kinky ways. You won't ever have to go without again, Keith, I swear it. Come on, let her go. We don't need her."

Keith's fingers trembled. He couldn't take his eyes from Valerie for a long moment. He swallowed hard and looked back at Evelyn.

"Evelyn . . Evelyn ... " he stammered.

"Never mind, Keith," she said quietly. "You've already answered." She picked up the pen and wrote her name above the dashed line. "You've won, Valerie," she said, looking up. "All the way around... You've even won him. I hope you're happy together."

She walked out of the room before Valerie could begin her campaign to ruin Keith, too, and went up the stairs for her suitcases. When she came down, Mary was there. The woman hugged her and cried openly.

"I knew something terrible was going to happen, Evelyn," she sobbed. "Oh, I felt it this morning, didn't I? I told you, didn't I? Oh, poor Woody. Poor Mr. Crenshaw. Oh, Keith--Keith, you poor boy." She waddled over to cry on his shoulder.

Evelyn saw Swede coming out of the study, his papers bundled up again. "I take you somewhere out of here," he said, making a statement of it. The air outside was crisp and fresh and clean. He inhaled deeply and shook, his head. "I don't blame you," he said finally. "I vish it's different, but I don't blame you. Here, you forgot the envelope. Ah, who is coming in such a hurry?"

A car rolled to a fast stop, and Captain Bates got out. He paused when he saw Swede and the suitcases beside Evelyn. His craggy, browned face gleamed in the bright light, making her think of the happy time with him. When he stood before her, there was genuine sorrow in his face.

"I was just on my way over to check on the boat and the lines, Mrs. Crenshaw, when they gave out the names on the radio. I'm sure sorry. I don't know what good a dumb salt like me can do to help, but, if there's anything, you can bet I will."

"Thanks, Captain, I know you will." She watched him stride through the yard, his step long and buoyant.

"Swede, I think I'll wait for Captain Bates," she said. "He's the only human being with real, honest emotions I've seen here. I don't mean you. I mean all the rest of them. I need fresh air. I need a good laugh. I need to do something crazy and fun, such as hunting for treasure. You understand, don't you?"

"Ja," Swede grunted. "It vasn't easy, vhat Artemus did to you. I'm his friend, but I say it to his face, even. He didn't do that right. You take a rest. You've earned it. Vhat's in the envelope vill help. I say goodbye, now. You call me if you need something, ja?"

"Thanks for everything, Swede," she said, reaching up to hug him briefly. She watched him climb into his car and drive away. She looked inside the envelope then, and saw the check for fifty thousand dollars and the note with his writing on it.

I'm sorry, Evelyn, it said. I wish we could try it again. Please don't be home when I get back, because I don't think I could send you away a second time. Love, Artemus.

She wept silently until Captain Bates came around the side of the house and saw her standing there. Then she picked up her suitcases and went toward him, hoping the pain would go away soon.