Sally stopped struggling against her mother and lay her head back on the pillow. She closed her eyes, feeling faint from the exertion. She couldn’t possibly have heard what she thought she heard.
“You’ve been gone twenty years, Sally Ann.”
The room started spinning. She heard a voice from far off saying “Clinton! Wait for me, Clint.” It was her own voice, but her head seemed stuffed with cotton. She felt a cool cloth on her forehead, and she waited until the buzzing in her ears died away. Twenty years. Twenty years of her life wasted in an underground hole. She was now thirty-six years old. And scarred and ugly and Michael was lost to her forever. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and she reached for her mother’s hand.
5
Cora was cleaning up the luncheon dishes in the kitchen while Sally Ann did her daily exercises on the living-room floor. Her body had healed well, and though the scarred skin was pulled taut over her back, the muscles were starting to come back. She had gained weight and walked with barely a trace of a limp. Her eyes had stopped that incessant jerking, and her sight was returning rapidly.
“Momma?”
“Yes, dear?”
The problem, as she viewed herself in the mirror, was the face. Her parchment skin showed blue veins as it clung to her bones. Over her sunken cheeks were patches of scaly skin that itched and turned red and white when she scratched them. Her head was still bald and scarred, even though the hair was growing back in spots. A scarf hid most of that. Her lips and what teeth were left were black as tar. She looked like a living skull.
She thought constantly of Clint—she missed him almost more than she could bear—but there were things she needed to do before she could go back to him. He would be all right. He was in his element, he was twenty years old, and—the darkness loved him.
“I want to go to town.”
“I think that’s a very good idea if you’re feeling up to it.”
“I want to see the dentist.”
Cora stood in the doorway and dried her hands on a dish towel. Sally Ann looked up at her and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll use a fake name.”
Pain crossed Cora’s face, and she turned and went back to the kitchen. It is so unfair, Sally thought. She was supposed to pick up the pieces of her life. But where was she to start, when her own family wouldn’t even support her? Well, at least the situation was clear.
Cora walked to the bedroom and returned with a simple housedress that might fit Sally’s slim frame. “Here. Try this on and I’ll call Dr. Green for an appointment.”
The trip to town was traumatic for both of them. Cora didn’t like lying to the doctor, and there wasn’t much he could do about Sally Ann’s teeth anyway. He filled two cavities, gave her a prescription for vitamins and calcium, and tried to get her to come back for dentures. Sally Ann knew he was trying to be kind, and he was more than curious about her appearance. She thanked him and they were on their way.
She bought a new pair of jeans, tennis shoes, socks, several T-shirts, and a jacket. Clothes felt so binding. She also bought a child’s sweater, size ten, light blue and soft. Cora asked no questions. The worst of the trip was the way everyone stared. Cora introduced her as a friend from the city who had come to recuperate in the good country air, and people were nice, but they still stared. They stared at her face, her teeth, at the way she walked, and they kept their distance. By the time Cora and Sally got home, both were exhausted.
The next day, the inevitable happened. After two months, Michael finally came over, to ask about Cora’s friend visiting from the city. He had heard from someone at church, and was hoping to get some information about a man he was working with on a land deal. Cora told him her friend was resting, and she was, but she was listening from the bedroom.
Michael’s voice. Deeper now, but just as she remembered it. Could it hurt him all that much to see her? All these years of thinking of him, dreaming of him, wondering how he was faring. What did he look like? What had twenty years done to his face? To his body? Their voices were a murmur now; she assumed they had walked into the kitchen to talk, in order not to disturb Cora’s resting friend.
Then he laughed. A hearty, resonant laugh, and her chest constricted with brutal force. What has he to laugh about? When was the last time I laughed? Oh, God, I want to laugh with him. Touch him. She got up from bed and put on her jeans and a T-shirt. She wrapped a scarf about her head quickly and put the tennis shoes over the bandages on her feet. She looked in the mirror and her heart fell. I can never let him see me like this. She opened the door a crack and peeked out.
He was standing by the front door, ready to leave, when he saw the door open. “I believe your friend is awake, Mom. Do you think she’d mind talking to me for a minute?”
Cora paled as she saw the door ajar. “Well, no, I suppose not, Michael. Let me ask her.” She walked over to the door, knocked, and went in. “What do you think you are doing?” she hissed.
“Why no, I’d be delighted,” Sally Ann said loudly and pushed past her mother and out the door. She walked directly to Michael who winced as he saw her, then quickly recovered with a smile.
“How do you do? I’m Michael Hixson. I understand you’re visiting from the city, and I thought you might know of a man by the name of Ralph Lederer. I’m thinking of buying a piece of property that he owns next to my farm and wondered if you had any word of his reputation.”
He didn’t recognize her. She was lost for words. She was ready for his hurt, his anger, his denial, his love, his passing out and falling on the floor, but she was not ready for this! What to do? Should she say, hello, Michael, I’m Sally Ann and we have a son who is living in underground caverns like a bat? Should she throw her arms around him and kiss him and make him forget all about Maggie? Should she embarrass him and say, Michael, don’t you even recognize your own wife when you see her? Should she sink to the floor and hug his knees and say how long she’d been dreaming of this moment?
She stared at him, then looked at her feet. “I don’t know, Mr. Hixson. The name is not familiar.”
“Well, okay. I appreciate your time. You look a little pale. Maybe I shouldn’t have disturbed your rest.”
“No, it’s quite all right. Please excuse me.” She returned to her room, shut the door, then leaned heavily against it.
After Michael left, Cora came into the room quietly and sat on the edge of the bed. Sally Ann was strangely quiet. The experiences Sally had gone through had prepared her in some ways for things Cora couldn’t even dream about. “How about some lunch?”
Sally kept her gaze steady on the ceiling. “That would be nice, Momma.”
6
Clint sat on the moss mattress and picked at it while he thought. He missed his mother. His eyes were swollen from crying, and his grief had given way to anger.
“I don’t care.” The sound of his voice in the Home Cavern was hollow, but comforting. He knew she had made it; he had stayed by the hole in the wall and listened. He heard other voices, and the hole was invaded by a powerful monster, a presence that pierced his brain and knocked him back into the tunnel. It hurt his head. It was like a dream he had when he slept, where images danced around and said silly things and “looked” a funny way. He still didn’t understand “look,” but that’s what his mommy said. He lay there, frightened, until he heard the grating of the lid again and the monster was gone.
There really was an “up there.” He had known it all along. He pretended he didn’t believe, because he didn’t want her to go. He didn’t want to go. He liked it here. There were things to play with and it was comfortable. Up there was strange, and he didn’t much like the stories she told.