The water was so hot Cora thought her skin might melt off her bones. The hotter, the better. Her mind ached. She scrubbed the kitchen floor again on her hands and knees. It was the fifth time that day but it felt dirty. It looked dirty to her. She could see it. The water had not been hot enough, that was the problem, she decided. So she’d boiled some in the kettle and poured it into the bucket. Dirt. It came from nowhere and just settled onto her things. One minute things were clean, and then a thin film of filth was there. It floated in the air all around her. She knew she sucked it into her lungs and probably ate it with every meal.
In frustration she kicked the pail with her foot. Soapy water spilled around over the floor. She could see the steam rise into the air. It was mixing with the dirt and was making wet air-dirt. She let out a tiny cackle at the thought of that. She had to keep cleaning. Clean and read the Bible. That was the only thing that would help her now.
Over and over, she replayed the scene in Mackenzie’s room the other day. The thoughts were heavy and tedious but she couldn’t get them to stop. The girl, standing in a towel, confident, defiant, arrogant even, her hair wildly out of control. Cora had wanted to grab a handful and rip it straight from the roots, but she’d been able to stop herself. The girl had the upper hand right now. Information. Control over Nick’s body. It was that tiny bit of rational concern that had seeped in at the last moment and prevented Mackenzie from being punished for running in the woods with that McBride boy, for being irreverent and uncontrollable.
Cora knew she could have killed the girl easily. Snapped her neck. Banged her head. Smashed her bones. The possibilities were endless. And for just a teeny microsecond it was going to happen. Blood on the walls. A terribly broken body on the floor. Clumps of wiry red hair strewn across the room, startling when mixed with blood against the cream-colored area rug. But without knowing just a bit more, it would have been counterproductive. The thought of Harrison shaking his head in disappointment at that scene was enough for her to get some control. To step back. Collect herself.
This was such a critical time. Thoughts of her father were coming almost daily now. Sometimes more than once a day, disorienting and confusing her. She didn’t want to relive any of those old memories anymore. She was mostly alone because Harry had been keeping his distance. He was watching, trying to figure Mackenzie out, gauging the threat. He told Cora he wasn’t going to fix things again, but she knew that he would. Cora knew him better than he knew himself. She knew his soul.
“Cora, get up.” His hands were under her arms. He was lifting her from the floor. “You’re sitting in a puddle of water. Go clean yourself up.” His words were very soft. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t angry about Ginny.
She was afraid he would be angry. She had never hurt Ginny before. She looked down. The bucket was on its side. Water had spilled out in circle, teeny soap bubbles spread across the top of the puddle creating a film. She touched the water gently with her finger. It was cold. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there.
Harrison hooked his hands under her arms and helped her to her feet. She felt wobbly and dizzy.
“I saw Virginia,” he said simply. “Her index finger on her right hand is broken. It had to be splinted.”
Cora stared at him. He wasn’t yelling or accusing but to her this was worse. She nodded. “An accident”
He shook his head. “All my life it’s been the three of us, Cora. You know, from those days we made the fort in the woods, all those days and nights the three of us together. Traipsing through those woods, our little school and church. We brought you everything. She came to see you when it would have been easier not to. We were bound together, even after I left…”
“But…”
“No buts.” He held up his hand to silence her. “She’s lied for you over and over. Even now when it’s hard for her to remember her name, somehow she knows that she needs to protect you. And…” he stopped talking and rubbed his hand over his face, “she is, and always has been, on your side.”
“Harry…”
“Cora, you broke her damned finger” He took her by her shoulders. “You are spinning out of control. You know, half the time you’re somewhere else in your head. You’re talking about your father all the time. I don’t even know what you’re going to do next. I can’t protect you anymore.” He shook her a little when he said those last words. “Stay away from Virginia. Do you understand? I’m not covering anything up if anything else happens to her.” He let her go. “I want to let Nick’s wife go. She doesn’t know anything. And she never will if we get her out of here now. “
“She’s defiling his memory.”
“So let her, Let her defile it in Maine.”
“No.” She stood her ground.
“Cora, I have always done everything you asked of me. I have stood by your side, I have protected you, I have taken care of you. I have loved you, probably more than I loved my family or anyone.” He waved his arm around. “Hell, you are my family. But I have a really, really bad feeling about this. You’re losing your edge. You’re slipping like you did years ago, only now, now, you’re bringing things down on both of us.” Her head was down. She heard his words and she knew they were true. “I beg you to let this go.” He walked to the door and then turned to look at her. “Because if you don’t I may have to leave you for good.” He walked out.
She put her hand in her pocket and squeezed the metal circle into her fist. It dug so deep into her skin, she was sure it left a round imprint in her flesh. “Never Harrison. Never. What God has brought together let no man bring asunder.” she muttered after him. “Or woman.” Cold soapy water ran down her leg.