When Darkness Loves Us

It was the body of a little girl, but it was as light as a paper bag. Breasts were sunken into the ribs, and the toes were worn down, leaving raw wounds on her feet. Strands of blond hair remained, but most of the head was bald and raw, and her shoulder bones were laid bare where the flesh had been scraped off. Eyes were sunk deep into their sockets and as Cora washed away the blood and grime from her face, the girl became semiconscious and started sucking the cloth. “Easy, girl. Not too much to drink at first.” She removed the cloth, and immediately the girl tried to speak.

The swollen tongue wagged through toothless gums as clicking noises came gagging from deep in her throat. Cora turned to Justin who was gaping at the sight. “Justin, get your mother and cover up this hole, then help me get this poor thing into the house.”

Maggie stepped forward. “No!”

Cora turned and looked up at her, a puzzled frown asking the question.

“She’s come back to haunt me, Momma. It’s Sally Ann, back from the grave!”

Cora looked down at the frail creature and she caught her breath. “Great Mother of God,” she breathed quietly. She scooped the girl up in her arms and carried her into the cool house, the bent baby spoon still dangling from one finger.

4

After a brief knock on the door, Cora entered the room. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“I brought you some breakfast.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“If you don’t eat, girl, you won’t be able to keep up your strength.” Cora set the tray down on the dresser. “Here. At least have some toast.”

Sally Ann sat up in bed and took the plate of wheat toast from her mother. “Thanks.”

“And after you eat, I’ll take another look at those toes. You should be up and walking about now. That’ll bring back your appetite.”

“I want to see Michael.”

Cora sighed. She drew up a chair from the desk and sat down. “I guess it’s time we talked the truth to each other, Sally Ann. Michael doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Well, tell him. I’m well enough to see him now.”

“It isn’t that simple. You see, when you disappeared, Michael mourned you for a long, long time. We all did. We didn’t know if you’d run off or been kidnapped or what. But there was never any word, and so we finally had to get over it and get on with living our lives. I know your Papa prayed for you every day of his life. And Michael . . . well, he had to get on with his life, too. Once you were declared dead, he remarried. So now he has a family, and we don’t want anything to interfere with his happiness.”

“Any thing? You mean me! But if he waited so long, he can’t have much of a family yet. Oh, Momma, the only thing that kept me going down there was thinking of Michael. I’ve really got to see him. I’ve got something to tell him.”

“You’ve been gone a long time, Sally Ann. Michael and Maggie have four children . . .

“Maggie? Maggie? Michael married Maggie?” Sally threw the covers off her legs and started to get up. “You’ve no right to keep me here. I want to see my husband.”

Cora pushed her back to bed with one hand. Still so frail, she thought. “He’s not your husband any longer, Sally Ann. He and Maggie have four children; did you hear me?”

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.”