Silent Years

By Lori Jean

As a newborn, Kate was left at the doorsteps of an orphanage. For the first thirteen years of her life she was an energetic child with a happy go lucky attitude. Her only disappointment was not having her real mother to love her. When she became a teen, she was adopted by a slovenly, red-neck, moonshiner/farmer to help his old woman with their four little girls. Never mind that he also had two nearly grown sons, with the same disposition and morals of their pa. For the next six years, Kate lived winters and summers in a chicken coop, enduring horrific conditions. One night Jake and his sons come home insanely drunk and Jake is in a rage. After robbing Kate of her innocence they fall into a drunken stupor. When Kate is finally coherent enough to realize what has happened she realizes that this is the night she must flee for her life or she will die here. While running through the ominous woods, listening to the snap of every branch and twig she imagines footsteps behind her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Dec 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483440330

Book preview

appreciation.

Prologue

SUNNI SHE SAID HOLDING OUT her hands, Sunni, please, please don’t hate me, she pleaded.

Without as much as a glance Sunni walked toward the rusty truck. The silence was so deafening that Holly actually jumped when Jake spoke.

Hey girlie, I forgit what your name be, but no matter now, you jest heft your stuff up in the back whiles I go and finish up insides. Go on now, jump on up in the back with my boys, that there biggest ones Roy, and Bobby Ray be the other one. He’s a mite younger. Anyways, my boys will keep you company on the ride back.

All the while Holly stood there looking at Sunni, not knowing what else she could say.

Within minutes, Jake had finished his business inside and walked back out to where Sunni was standing. All right girl, quit yer lollygagging; we got to be on our way now, so git on up there in the back like I tole you too. Now, I’ll be guessin I need a name so what do you go by? Thought I heard them call you Sunni, that be right?

She stood silently staring at him. Finally, in a shaky but harsh voice for one so young, she replied. That was a nickname and I hate it. My name is Kate.

One

THE COUNTY ORPHANAGE SAT AT the end of a mud-filled hollow called Grange. The long dusty road, which led to the circular drive around the home was 20 miles southeast of River, West Virginia. The home had been a lovely plantation back in 1790 during the war. At that time it had been turned over to the soldiers to be used as military housing. For many years after the war, the monstrous place sat empty. In the mid 1800’s when West Virginia and Virginia were separated, each becoming a state on their own, the orphanage was opened.

A family by the name of Pembrook, traveling toward W. Virginia, had been looking for a place to live and came across the home. After talking with the town council about their plans the paperwork was finalized, and they knew they had found a new calling and a new home. The town needed an orphanage, and Mr. Pembrook had been praying for his family to be led to where they would be needed and used by the Lord. After seeking and receiving the funds from the state, the huge double oak doors opened up, and once again the orphanage would provide a home for the children of that county. Within a short time, every room was filled with youngsters of all ages. At the time, although the country was coming out of a depressed era and families were starting to get back on their feet, the devastation had taken its toll, and during those bleak years many children had simply been left behind to fend for themselves.

Emily Pembrook and her younger sister Adele were both born and raised in the drafty old place. At one time the house had been filled with lovely furniture, and there were beautiful chandeliers with many huge fireplaces which had served to warm the rooms, but that alone couldn’t dispel the great gusts of wind that still found their way through the cracks. There were still rugs; though no longer thick and plush, they helped to warm the many feet that had tread the floors of the old place. So by the 1900’s, its charm had dissipated, and the luster were gone, but the home still had meaning and served a much needed purpose.

Mr. and Mrs. Pembrook passed away when their daughters were in their early 40’s and the two women having been raised there had no desire or knowledge of how to start a new life anywhere else. Having been brought up by rigid, stern parents, neither daughter had natural maternal emotions so they were accustomed to a strict type of environment without warmth or foolishness. God, and discipline was what had run their lives, and they saw no reason to change anything. So after much thought, they decided to apply to run the home as their parents had done. Once they had gone through the standard paperwork and legal documents, they were given permission to stay. Many repairs were needed. Pieces of furniture had to be fixed, and although the home would never be the beauty it was, the place was still needed as shelter for the children.

Emily, being the eldest, became the new Head Mistress; and Adele, the younger sister, would be her assistant.

***

The year was now 1937. The big event in young Kate’s life (nicknamed Sunni) was her birthday and she had just turned five years old today. As with any impatient child, she could hardly wait for the morning to pass. Walking around to the side of the big circular side porch, she sat down and leaned back against the house. As she let her eyes roam across the brilliant field of daisies, her mind wandered back to the early hours of the morning.

The night before, Sunni had overheard Miss Pembrook tell Adele to leave the cake until the evening of the following day. When Sunni heard that she had to wait, she knew she would not be able to contain her excitement. Early the next morning before anyone else was awake, Sunni tiptoed quietly into the big kitchen. Spying her beautiful, iced cake, she stood for a moment transfixed, staring at the delightful mounds of color.

Licking the sweet, soft swirls of thick, frothy icing, she just knew there would never be anything as delicious as that cake. She resembled a small puppy lapping up water as her tongue darted in and out. Finally she stopped and trying to remove all traces of the telltale icing, she wiped her fingers again on her dress and licked them once more to be sure. I don’t care if I do get in trouble! It’s my cake and I just wanted a bite of it, she spoke loudly and very bravely, knowing of course there was no one within hearing distance but she glanced around just in case.

In the past, Sunni’s impetuousness had more than once brought out the switch. However, on this day especially, she didn’t want to get on the bad side of Miss Pembrook. She was excited as were all of the other children today. There was a new teacher coming to teach and live at the home. Of course, the children hoped (crossing their fingers as they said it) "that she was nothing like mean ole Miss Pembrook."

For one brief moment in the midst of her daydreaming, sadness overcame Sunni, and she looked down at the ground holding her head in her hands. Thick tangled hair hung in her face as she stared at her worn black shoes, one with a buckle missing. Five years now and still daily, she waited. She still believed that one day her real mama would return, but every now and then a deep aching sadness overcame the little girl. By the age of four, Sunni was an expert storyteller. She would regale the other children with the latest fantasy of her abandonment. Abandoned. A word all the children in the orphanage learned at a very young age. Sunni, however, refused to listen to them make fun of her. Maybe, she reasoned with herself, "Just maybe my mama had to bring me here but I know she will come get me when she can. I bet she probably cries every day from missing me like I miss her." Sunni always spoke the words aloud just in case God could not hear her good enough.

There was one occasion when Luther was pulling weeds just around the corner of the porch and he heard her pitiful words. They tore at his heart so deeply, that from then on he acted as though he agreed with everything the little one said. He knew that far too soon she would be old enough to find the truth for herself. Still he prayed that this was one little girl whose dreams would someday come true.

Very seldom did a day pass that Miss Pembrook did not severely lecture Sunni about her storytelling. "Child, living in your fantasy world is just plain foolishness. I know you are still awfully young but you need to learn to face life and hard facts. In this case, the facts are that you will most likely live here until you’re grown, unless by chance a family comes along that needs another helping hand. I know to you it sounds mean Sunni girl, but with so many people out there just scratching to make a living, you and all the other children ought to be grateful that you have a decent place to live and food on the table."

Trying to push Miss Pembrook’s gloomy words from her thoughts, she closed her eyes and soon became so drowsy she couldn’t keep them open a minute longer. The hot sun was beating down, warming her small body. As usual, she slipped once more into the beautiful world she had created. This was the place where her mother was always waiting for her. Leaning back against the huge column on the side porch, she let her eyes wander again across the road. The bright yellow daisies sprung up as far as her glistening green tear-filled eyes could see. Soon she was asleep.

In the distance, she could see her mother. She was wearing a long, white silk dress, with dainty flowers bordering the neckline. With each movement, the dress billowed around her. Her light brownish, hair danced around her shoulders like layers of light strands of silk, one flowing into another. A few of the lighter streaks looked as though they were reaching out to catch rays of sunlight, framing her soft creamy complexion. Her large dancing eyes, sparkled like brilliant green emeralds. Her willowy form stretched out, with arms toward Sunni and ever so gently, she pulled her close. Holding her cheek close to Sunni’s soft, small face, she began to rock back and forth as if cradling a newborn. In Sunni’s mind, she could hear her mother’s gentle, melodic voice crooning softly in her ear. My baby, my baby, you’re finally home. Sunni sighed deep with pleasure.

Two

CHILDREN, CHILDREN, MISS PEMBROOK’S, FAR-REACHING voice brought Sunni out of her perfect make-believe world. Please give me your attention. I would like you to meet our new teacher, Miss Holly.

Now Sunny sat up, wide awake. Oh boy, I bet I’m gonna get it now!

Fortunately for all the children who lived at the orphanage, Luther was always there to stand up for them when necessary. Luther was the kindhearted old handyman, whose job it was to make minor repairs to the rambling old place. However, Luther felt his most important job was to help mend the little ones’ broken hearts. He had been around for almost as long as anyone could remember. One day, he just showed up and they had given him a job with a place to live. Through the years, he had become as much a fixture as the place itself. He lived in two rooms under the main floor, taking his meals with the children. Whenever a new child came through those huge oak doors, they were already frightened, so Luther was there always ready with a smile and a kind word.

At first glance, his appearance could be rather startling. His hair was coarse and faded into several shades of gray. There was a small bald place on the top of his head, but the rest grew along the sides, and pointed in several directions. His beard was darker gray, short, thick and scraggly. His large dark gray eyes were wide with thick overgrown eyebrows and a missing front tooth, which gave him a rather lopsided look. Thankfully when he smiled, there was an instant and lovely transformation that took place.

For this special day, everyone had pitched in to make the house and yard as neat as possible. For some time now, Luther’s age was beginning to slow him down, so he was extremely grateful that the children cared enough to help him. With hardly ever having another adult to talk too, Luther was looking forward to the arrival of the new teacher- probably as much as the children.

Muttering to himself, he spoke quietly. After all these many years, I ain’t never had a body that I could really talk to. Why, ole Miss Pembrooke, she acts like I’m some kinda half-wit. They ain’t never give me much more than the time of day. I guess what gets me, is I know I’m gittin slower but I ain’t yet dim-witted. Well, I guess I ain’t got a lot to be complainin bout. After all, I got me a place to live and food to eat all these years, so I guess I’m a mite better off than a lot a folks round these here parts. When I study on it, I mite be luckier, cause at least I got the little ones who need me here. I guess Miss Pembrook and Miss Adele ain’t really bad people. Guess maybe they jest never knowed no better. I’m a wonderin jest where this here Miss Holly mite be from, not that it make no matter atall. I spect I’m a hopin me and her kin sit and swap a few stories. Yep, that shore would be a fine thang.

In the distance Luther could hear Miss Pembrook’s voice so he started walking a bit faster. He was all too familiar with what Miss Pembrook would have to say to him if he wasn’t there when the new teacher, Miss Holly arrived.

***

Miss Holly’s old home place had stood for three generations. Her great grandpa, head of the Cantrell family home, had built the place to stand strong for many years, but after the widespread tornado that hit the whole county, her father, James had to rebuild the place. He wanted his wife Ellen and their two girls, Holly and Jenna, to be raised in the same house that he himself had been. He had an older brother whom he had always wondered about, but Russell had left for the military back when James was just a baby, so they really never got to know each other.

Through the years, the outside of the house had become weathered, but James kept up the repairs as best he could. Although there wasn’t money to fix up the outside, James managed to keep the inside repaired and shining bright with the remnants of love and laughter that Ellen had left behind.

Having been so young when Ellen died, Holly was surprised that she could still remember so many things about her mother. Even now, she could swear there were times that she could hear her mother’s soft-spoken, soothing voice. She could still picture and almost smell those warm summer nights when they would all sit on the front porch. Sometimes the only sound would be the creaking of their oversized rocking chairs and the crickets that sang their chatty night songs. She and Jenna would sit holding hands in the big swing. They were so used to the click of the chains that they hardly heard them anymore. She would forever hold precious memories of the two of them, squeezing the others’ hands, and squealing with delight. They would yell laughingly, Higher, higher, let’s go to the top of the roof. In those moments, Holly would say a quick word of thanks to have been a part of such a loving family. When her mother died, Holly felt like the batteries of a flashlight were worn out, and there was no light to show them the way.

***

Years later on a warm summer night, Holly’s simple and peaceful life collapsed around her once again. She had been sitting by the window doing some mending. Pa and Jenna had gone to bed a couple of hours earlier. Holly’s eyes were growing tired of sewing with only the dim light of the single bulb. The flickering of the oil lamp added very little to brighten the room. Standing up to stretch her arms she decided to go and fix a cup of hot soothing tea. Before the water had a chance to start boiling she heard the clatter of horses approaching. Running to the window, she never gave the boiling water another thought. As she looked through the glass into the darkness, she could make out Henry. He was the son of one of their closest neighbors and the two of them had known each other since the beginning of their school years. Henry had always been a dutiful son and when his pa unexpectedly up and left for work, never coming back, Henry became the man of the family. He and his mother, Martha, lived no more than a couple of miles from Holly’s family and it was always a source of comfort. Each family knew there was always someone nearby to count on when needed.

Considering the lateness of the hour, Holly was surprised and alarmed to see Henry riding toward their house at such a fast pace. As the wagon came closer to the house it was easy to see that he was in a state of panic. She watched in curiosity as he jerked the reigns pulling the horses to an abrupt stop.

Opening the door, Holly took one look at his face. Henry dear, what is it? Try to calm down please, I can’t understand a word you’re saying, she spoke softly while pulling him inside. Henry, she repeated, calmly, I want you to sit and drink this glass of water and catch your breath, please. Holly was anything but calm however, she knew that for Henry’s sake she needed to appear that way.

Drinking the water in two large gulps, he quickly started talking. We gotta hurry Holly please, Ma’s hot as could be and I’m a feared she’s gonna die.

Her calm resolve left, and she didn’t wait for Henry to finish. Go get the horses some fresh water. Henry, go on and hurry now. Trying to soften her words Holly gave his arm a gentle squeeze. It will be all right. Don’t worry now, you just go on. Let me just slip on a sweater and I’ll peek in to let Pa know that I’m going with you. He’d be quick to worry if he woke up and I was gone. Seeing the frightened look on his face she quickly added, I’ll be out there by the time you’re done.

Tiptoeing quietly into pa’s room she was aware of how old and frail he was starting to look. Her heart went out to him. Since her ma had died so young, pa had done his best to be mother and father to both her and Jenna. Briefly it crossed her mind that Pa himself was wearing down. She knew that taking care of them and missing Mama all these years had taken its toll on him. Gosh, Mama, she whispered, quietly, looking upwards, I just want you back so much sometimes. Her voice breaking in the dark she wiped her wet face, and walked over to the bed where Pa was breathing so quietly that momentarily she stopped. She was holding her own breath without realizing it, until she saw him stir and realized that he was fine. His breath was getting shallower with age.

Suddenly a flash of a very old scene flitted briefly across her mind. She remembered the time she had walked in on ma and pa. She could still hear ma’s little girl laugh. Ma’s laugh always made her sound so much younger than she was, and her face would turn red like a teenagers.

Through the years pa told and retold the girls of the time that ma wouldn’t keep her hands off him. Each time he added something new so ma was sure to blush. Of course all that happened was the combs in ma’s hair had gotten stuck and when he tried to help her, the buttons on his night shirt had got caught in them. Of course, this would bring on his favorite tale of how he had met Ellen. You know, he would say, looking directly at ma, "The first day I ever laid eyes on Ellen, she was playing out in the field with her girlfriend, but I knew right away that she was the one for me. Then one day, I started noticin that she had done laid them dolls aside, and even caught her pinchin her cheeks. Well it was then I knew it was time to start a courtin her. Course now I wasn’t real sure she felt the same way," he added jokingly.

Still smiling at her memories, Holly pushed the door further open to Pa’s room. Pa, she whispered. Quickly telling him the situation, she turned to leave. As she pulled his door shut, Pa halfway sat up in bed. The look on his face gave her an uneasy feeling.

Darlin, no matter what this life brings, you need to stay strong. A body don’t always know what the good Lord has in store for them. They just have to wait and see.

Holly looked at him intently. Walking back toward him she stood beside the bed and hugged him tightly. I love you so much pa, but sometimes you worry me with the things you say.

There ain’t no need for you to worry daughter.

Holly shook her head. All right Pa, sleep well, and I’ll see you and Jenna in the morning. She rubbed her hand on his grisly, weatherworn face and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek. I love you. At the door, she turned once more and blew him a final kiss. Tiptoeing across the hall into the girl’s room, she gave Jenna a light kiss and silently whispered goodnight.

Several hours later Holly was drained and at last relieved. She felt sure that Martha was going to be fine. Until right then, she had not dared let herself think about how worn out she was. Once Martha’s fever was down and the old woman was breathing evenly, she drifted off into a much-needed sleep. After a few minutes, Holly walked out to the front porch. Henry was where she had left him, still pacing. She spoke softly, You can relax now Henry and get yourself some rest. Her fever is down. All she needs now is sleep. Just keep an eye out and in the morning do your best to get some fluids in her. The worst is over now. I’ll just take one of the horses and we’ll get it back to you tomorrow.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he wanted to thank her but all that came out was a relieved sob. There was no need for words.

Weary from the night’s events Holly gave a deep sigh. She looked up at the beautiful sky noticing how brilliant the stars looked. As far as the eye could see, the massive sky looked as if thousands of tiny bright lights were turned on. It was then that she noticed that the sky was being lit up by much more than the twinkling stars. There were orange and yellow streaks shooting multicolored streaks of raggedy color into the dark night. Well Henry would you take a look at that? Now if that is not the strangest thing! I don’t know that I have ever seen such a beautiful, blend of colors!

Looking up toward where she was pointing, he too noticed the bright orange, hazy glow. Suddenly their eyes locked. Neither, wanted to be the one to voice what was evident. They suddenly knew with a dreadful feeling what was making the dark night appear so lit up. In the distance, they could see that the wind was gathering and tossing shooting flames that came spiraling back down toward the trees like firecrackers on July fourth. The smoky clouds were whirling and spiraling up and down sending odd and frightening flashes in all directions. Within minutes she realized that the whole scene was in the direction of her home. Oh, God no, it can’t be! A woeful moan escaped her lips as she ran toward the wagon with Henry right behind her.

Long before they could see her house, those beautiful bright orange and yellow streaks of gold had turned black. Billowing clouds and the smell of burning wood and scorched embers lay thick in her nostrils. Holly’s heart was thumping hard and fast as though run by electricity. She quickly laid her hand upon her chest to stop the jerking of her body. An empty hollow place in the pit of her stomach told her they were too late. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

Their eyes immediately filled with smoke. Although now it was the thick, black ash smoke that was causing their eyes to water. A few places still held tiny yellow and orange flames, which danced, close to the ground.

Henry tried to shield her and hold her back but even his strong hands could not compare with her anguished strength. He had always been there for Holly, and his tears at this time ran as freely as hers. After several hours and knowing that so many people would be there for her, Henry told Holly that he should get back home in case ma woke up or took a turn. Woodenly agreeing and with unseeing eyes she momentarily glanced at him, and with a pat on his shoulder her eyes automatically looked back at the ashes at her feet.

Many years later, Holly heard that after Henry’s ma died, he sold the old home place, and moved to Tennessee, where he had relatives. There he had become a minister of a small Baptist church in Milford. Within a year or so he had met the woman who was to become his wife. From time to time, Holly would think of Henry and a smile still came to her face. He was such a part of her past that she would never forget him.

***

That night of the fire, Holly saw so many faces, some familiar and some total strangers but all worked with the same intensity. They stood one in front of the other in unison, passing buckets of water from the well, long into the night. No one wanted to be the first to give up or stop. None could bear the thought that there was nothing more they could do. Hours passed and they still relentlessly passed the buckets of sloshing water to the person in front of them, as if by some miracle the results would be different.

Near dawn, with black sweat running into their eyes, and limbs achingly stiff, the line of people suddenly stopped moving. As though being directed by someone their arms simultaneous dropped to their sides. It was as though a horn had blown and someone had commanded them to be still.

Holly would never forget the drone of noise and quiet that surrounded them the entire night. There were moments, when for a brief period there would be complete eerie silence. From time to time breaking the silence, there would be low sorrowful mumblings of the men and women alike. Next came only the snapping and crackling of the blackened dying pieces of scorched dead limbs, mixed among the last pieces of wood. These were the only sounds breaking the silence of the otherwise quiet night.

When the morning sky finally broke through the smoky haze, everything was again quiet. Each waited with bated breath not sure of what to do next.

For hours she felt frozen to that spot. Holly was oblivious to the pitying looks of those around her. So many of whom had tried so hard throughout the night to save her family and home. One by one, sympathetic words echoed everywhere around her. They sounded mingled and unclear. Their voices came like clouds that were just floating through the dark of the night from a faraway distance.

Here honey, let me help…its alright dear…you’re not alone…let us take you, the drone of voices continued on. From time to time someone would try to take her arm and lead her away from the horrendous sight, but Holly couldn’t understand why they were even there. Her mind was unwilling as her stiff body to accept the ghastly sight before her.

Moving her head from side to side her mind was uncomprehending. I wonder why there are so many people just standing around here? Everywhere she looked there were more people. They were walking in circles and murmuring strange sounds. She felt as though she were watching hundreds of snakes moving about in a pit. None of it made any sense to her. I just don’t understand what’s going on. Where could Pa and Jenna be? We need to find out what has happened.

Weeks later, she would remember looking at the ground where she and Jenna had planted their beautiful lilacs. Speaking to no one in particular, she kept repeating, Mama’s flowers used to grow here. How strange, I wonder who pulled them out. You know it’s much too early to pick our flowers, Jenna. Jenna, did you hear me? Getting no answer, she looked around shaking her head. Well, I’ll guess I’ll just have to ask what Pa thinks. He always has the right answers.

Later that day when the ashes had begun to cool, the volunteer firefighters started the dreaded task of sifting through the ashes. Even the men who had done this sort of job for years had a look of total disbelief. None had ever seen such devastation caused by a fire. The stench of blackened burnt flesh permeated through the air and into their eyes and skin. With unashamed tears, they settled in and began dutifully picking up and covering what few remains there were with two canvas bags.

Three

IT WAS LATE THAT SAME afternoon when Reverend Malcolm yanked on the reins pulling the horses to a halt. Immediately he saw Al waving his arms to flag him down. Reverend Malcolm looked over at his wife, Blanche, halfway smiling. Now, now, dear, pray for patience. You know Al isn’t a bad sort but I’ll grant you he does know how to go on.

Well, God love Al’s good old heart, if he didn’t have anything to go on about, he would go out and find something, she responded with a chuckle, But this is what the good Lord called you for, she said, giving him a smile.

I know, I know, but it would have been nice to get unpacked and have supper before we ran into him, but there was humor in his voice.

Reverend, Reverend, it’s the worst thing ever, Al bellowed in an unusually loud tone. You know the old Cantrell place? Well, it burnt right to the ground last night. I was just finishing getting together the last of my gear because well you do know that I am moving out of town don’t you?

Seeing that Al was in for a stretch of talking, the Reverend Malcolm kindly interrupted him. Yes, yes, Al, we are all sorry to know that you are moving but please continue. Now what is this about the Cantrell place? More importantly, what about the family? Al, Al, get back to the family. What about them?

"Well, I heard all the hustle and bustle, and then I came running out here to see what was going on. Folks here in town have it that the old place just went up in flames. Last I heard, seems as if everybody was sound asleep when the fire broke out. Hear tell there’s not much left but a big black field of soot and ashes."

The Reverend and his wife gasped with shock and disbelief. Al, do you mean to say that…? Heavy-hearted, the Reverend couldn’t force his lips to form such sorrowful words.

Yep, it shore does sound like it. Least wise that’s how I heard it. All’s I know is its shore a sad thing to be hearin this right as I’m a gittin ready to be leavin. Now I ain’t saying I knew um good but from what everybody says, they was shore some mighty fine folks, always a helping people, it seems.

Well, Reverend, tipping his hat, he continued, and Misses, I shore am sorry to be the one to be bringing bad news. Nodding once again, he waved. Well I got to be off, but it’s shore been nice knowin you good people. Remember me sometime, if you’re of a mind. Maybe someday we’ll run in to the other agin, he said with a last wave.

Without giving Al time to say anything else, the Reverend jerked the reins. Oh my Lord, we have to get over there immediately.

Nodding in agreement, Blanche already had her head down. He could see the tears that were flowing down his wife’s plump cheeks. He could tell by the movement of her lips that she was in prayer. After what seemed like hours, he pulled the carriage to a halt, and before them was one of the most awful sights either of them had ever witnessed.

There was nothing left. The once