Ruth Rose started to giggle,
“Shut up,” he said, which only made her giggle more. Then he started laughing, too.
And that was how Iris Hawkins found them both. Laughing their heads off amidst the ruins of a freshly baked loaf of bread.
13
It had not occurred to Jim that there would be any question of Ruth Rose being sent away. Without ever having discussed the issue with his mother, Jim had somehow expected her to welcome Ruth Rose if she showed up at the farm. Father Fisher might have talked to Iris Hawkins, but she wasn’t the kind of person who acted impulsively or assumed things without hearing the whole story.
That’s what Jim thought. So when his mother’s look of shock passed, only to be replaced by wary politeness, he was taken aback.
Watching Ruth Rose shake his mother’s hand politely, he realized that taking her pills had been exactly the right thing for her to do. As opposed to pulling a knife or screaming obscenities, for instance.
Jim and Iris had not discussed the outburst at the church two Sundays earlier, but he had seen something in her eyes that had led him to believe she might be hearing the same things he was hearing, seeing the same things, wondering the same dark thoughts. When Father resumed the pulpit, she had watched him like a cat watching a bird in a tree. That, at least, was what Jim wanted to believe.
As they sat down to dinner together, Jim felt a little flame of confidence ignite inside him. Things are going to be all right, he told himself. He trusted his mother. He could see her warming to Ruth Rose. And amplifying his faith as sure as blowing on a fire were the words she said directly after grace. “Thank God, girl, you’re safe.”
They managed to get through dinner talking about bovine mastitis and how the broody hen was now sitting on more than a dozen eggs and looking pretty uncomfortable. Jim even answered his mother at length when she asked him how school had gone that day, though he avoided pulling out the canary yellow notice about the Father Plan.
But, finally, Iris Hawkins folded her strong, work-worn hands under her chin, looked squarely at Ruth Rose and said, “What are your plans?”
Jim jumped in. “She can stay here, can’t she?”
Iris ignored the interruption. She gazed steadily at their guest.
Ruth Rose glanced nervously at Jim, then down at the table and the plate she had polished clean.
“I can’t go back to them,” she said.
“Not even to Nancy?”
Ruth Rose shrugged, “Mom’s okay, but she’s cracking up.”
Iris didn’t say anything. She reached out and gently lifted Ruth Rose’s chin so that the girl could see her smile. Ruth Rose seemed to take some courage from that, managing a little experimental smile herself.
Jim cleared the table. The kitchen was filled with the clicking of the stove and the dripping outside. The rain had stopped.
“We don’t need to reach any decisions right this minute,” said Iris. “Except, I’m going to have to let your mom know you’re safe.”
“No,” snapped Ruth Rose. Then she looked glum. “You let her know and he’ll be over like a shot.”
Iris frowned. “Well, here’s the deal. I tell Nancy. If Nancy wants to tell Father, that’s her business.”
Ruth Rose looked dubious. “You think she can keep anything from him?”
Iris bent forward to look into Ruth Rose’s face, hidden behind her hair.
“How about this,” she said gently. “I phone your mom when he’s not there. That way, at least, she’s got some time to think it over.”
Ruth Rose looked up. She didn’t look convinced. Iris looked at her watch; it was just after six.
“Tonight is Bible study night. Starts at seven,” Iris said. “Your father won’t be back home until nine or so. I’m willing to tell Nancy you’re welcome to stay here for a bit, that you need some time to cool out, or whatever. What she does with the information is up to her, but at least she will have some time to think about it in peace. Does that seem fair?”
Ruth Rose’s drugged-up eyes looked sad, as if maybe she found it hard to imagine her mother in any kind of peace. She shrugged, sighed.
“We can try it,” she said. “But she’ll tell him. And then I’m toast.”
“Are you afraid they’ll institutionalize you again?”
Jim didn’t know his mother knew about that and couldn’t believe she would bring it up. Ruth Rose looked offended.
“Is that what he tells people? It’s so not true.” Her head flopped back and she shook her unkempt hair. “That isn’t what happened. I don’t expect you to believe me,” she said. “Nobody ever does.”
“Try me.”
Ruth Rose took a deep breath.
“When you get sent away to the funny farm it’s because a doctor recommended it. Right? Usually more than one doctor. Well, no doctor saw me before I got shipped off. It was after I got arrested.” She glanced at Jim.
“She broke into the church,” he said. “Father had her arrested.”
Iris nodded. “Go on.”
“I was sent to what’s called an RTC, which you’ve never heard of, I bet. Well, just look it up under “teen help” on the Net. It means Residential Treatment Centre. Safe Haven, this place was called. It was up near Arnprior and it was pretty much a jail, if you want to know. A jail for loud-mouthed brats. I wasn’t charged with anything. No authorities — no doctor, no cops, nobody.” She looked sulky. “The Safe Haven people came in the middle of the night for me. Right into my own home. I’m not kidding. Ask my mom.”
She paused as if maybe Iris was going to phone right then. But they kept listening. Jim had been filling the sink with washing-up water. He turned off the tap.
“I wake up and there are three complete strangers standing in my bedroom. I don’t know them and they’re standing over me — a female nurse and two beefy guys in uniform. One’s got a tattoo, like he’s maybe an ex-biker or something. It’s like a nightmare, but it’s real. They get me up and pack my bags. I’ve never been so scared in my life. They give me a sedative — an injection, like in some movie. And there’s my mother at the doorway sitting in her wheelchair in her nightie bawling her eyes out and Father praying on his knees. Then, poof! I’m outa there and outa their lives.”
She stopped. She seemed to be struggling to tell them, struggling against the Diazepam gauze around every nerve bundle, struggling against the memory of being snatched. She glared at them, daring them to disbelieve her. What she saw seemed to give her enough confidence to go on.
“I was at Safe Haven for a month. It costs a fortune — I don’t know where Father got the money. They treat you like dirt, intimidate you, humiliate you and it costs your parents hundreds of dollars a day. Cool, eh? And you can’t get away. Not until you break.”
Ruth Rose looked thoughtful for a moment. “So I broke,” she said. Then she grinned suddenly. “There was me in little pieces all over the floor. Oh, I’m such a bad girl, ‘and Oh, sir,’ this and Oh, ma’am, ‘that… and’What chore should I do now… ‘At Safe Haven, they like it when you break. Except I kept all the pieces. And as soon as I got home, I put them back together again.”
At 7:01, Ruth Rose made the call. Jim could hear her mother crying with relief.
Then Iris Hawkins took over. “Nancy, I really don’t want to interfere,” she said. “But maybe it would be a break for all of you if she stays here a while. She can help me with the chores — heaven knows we could use the help. That ought to keep her out of mischief.” She glanced at Ruth Rose, winking.
Iris didn’t need to do too much convincing. She did more listening than anything else and her expression changed as the conversation continued. She became grave. “Yes,” she said. “I see…oh, my…”