A Question of Mercy (8 page)

Jess did not expect Adam to enjoy the chore of grooming. She hoped he would never want to come back; but, instead, he thrilled to the brush against the neck of the horse. He brushed with one hand and smoothed with the other, coming alive in the world of senses. He used gentle strokes across the horse's back and sides, belly and legs. Adam, in the grip of something remote and wild, worked with the thorough care of a stable-boy.

Jess had never seen Buckhead stand so still while being groomed. He barely breathed. A statue of a horse. Adam let water from the hose run over the horse's back and legs—like a baptism. He looked like someone in love. Nothing about this act was a chore.

Once, Buckhead turned to see who was stroking him. When Adam finished brushing the horse, he kissed the animal's nose, then started brushing again—the neck and legs and back. Buckhead had thought it was over, but when Adam began another round, he readied himself for more grooming.

“You have to stop now, Adam.” Jess believed Adam could have brushed and hosed until that horse was no bigger than a thimble, or curried him into a mere speck on the barn floor. Adam could groom that horse to death. She took the bridle and led Buckhead toward the stall. “You did a good job,” she told Adam. “But that's enough.” Buckhead's coat gleamed like a new coin.

That evening, at home, Adam's arm kept brushing the air, as if a big horse stood before him—in the kitchen, in the hall, at the dinner table.

“What in the world are you doing?” Clementine said.

Edward told her how good he was with Buckhead.

“Well,” she laughed. “You can't keep doing that all night.”

Jess was brushing her hair dry after washing it. They gathered in front of the TV after dinner to watch
Candid Camera
. Before the program started, Edward announced a surprise trip they would take in August. “We're going to Myrtle Beach,” he said. “I've reserved a cabin right on the ocean!” Jess and her father had not been to the beach since before her mother died. She wanted to object, but instead brushed her hair over her face so no one could see her expression.

Adam barely responded to their plans for going to the beach, though they knew how much he would love stepping into the ocean for the first time. Whenever Jess had taken him to the river behind their house, he ran in up to his knees, his waist. He couldn't swim, but didn't care. Clementine usually asked Jess to go with him. “He can't go alone,” she said. “He might plunge in over his head. I have a bad feeling about that river.”

For most of July Jess had taught Adam how to float, but he still couldn't swim. Sometimes she brought bright colored balloons to blow up and let Adam watch them move along the top of the water until they were out of sight. He laughed hard if they popped. She was doing her best to be helpful, but each day she looked at her father with a question on her face:
What are you doing to me?
She wanted her old life back.

“Aren't you excited about Papa B. taking us to the ocean, Adam?” Clementine asked.

Adam didn't stop moving his arms through the air toward an imaginary horse. He couldn't get out of his head the pleasure of grooming. When Jess
offered to let him brush her hair, Adam used gentle strokes from the crown, lifting and smoothing every strand. He worked like that for almost an hour. He made her hair feel like water.

Adam

The first time Adam stepped into the French Broad River, he thought he could ride beneath the murmur of fish. He sank and Jess pulled him up. He held Jess tight around her neck. Her wet hair and face felt cold. She told him to let go, to try again. He knew how rivers dug a long cradle to the sea, and believed it could take him all the way to the ocean. He sank over and over, swallowing water. He coughed. He choked, but would not quit. Adam wanted to please Jess more than he wanted to become a river going to the ocean. He told strangers that she was his sister, but his mother said, Half-sister. To him, Jess seemed whole
.

So Jess taught him to float, holding him firm until he could do it himself, weightless, like a leaf or stick carried by the current. Maybe he could become that water—scooting fast around bushes and trees
.

After Jess let him brush the big horse, he brushed Jess's hair. His arms felt light and floaty, like he was in water. Maybe brushing was like swimming—the arms. Adam liked to watch Jess push up a window in the evening, her own white arms rising, then dropping. He liked to hear her hum a tune he had never heard before. Jess smelled like grass
.

But she did not like him the way Adam liked her. Whenever he followed her to town, she yelled, Go back home, Adam—like she was talking to a dog. Sometimes, kids made fun of him, and Jess did too. In those moments Adam felt hurtled through space in the wake of their laughter
.

Soon he would go on a trip to see the ocean. Papa B. said so. In the time before Jess, when Adam lived without a father, he rode with his mother so long on the train to see the Grand Canyon—early, just before sunrise. He stood on the edge of the canyon for a full long moment before a man pulled him away from the edge. It was not his father, but Adam pretended that it was. His father had been gone for only a few months, when they took that trip, and Adam kept looking for him everywhere. So when the man pulled him away from the edge, Adam could smell the man-smell and in that moment he floated inside that canyon's big air. He could see the time just before dawn, and the day folding down over the stars. Then he saw the man's face, saw that his father was not there. He saw his mother's face and knew what was true and what wasn't. He felt the coldness before daylight
.

Now, Adam drifted inside the shell of this new family, and Papa B. was like a daddy. Papa B. would let him go into the ocean. All the way. Adam believed that if the ocean lived inside his body—maybe he would never be alone
.

— 10 —

A
s time grew close for them to leave for Myrtle Beach, Jess realized that she was looking forward to the trip. She might make some friends and get away from the family. Adam had been packed for a week. He filled his suitcase with some washed stones, a plastic cup he used at mealtimes, his toothbrush, his stuffed horse, two Hershey Bars, and the photo he kept beside his bed, standing with his father.

Clementine added the rest of what he needed and they drove four hours to a beach house with three bedrooms and a small porch where they could eat breakfast. Each morning Adam went fishing with Edward, and in the afternoon they all swam in the ocean. Jess couldn't get away from them. One night they wandered to the Grand Pavilion, where bands played. Edward and Clementine rode the Ferris wheel with Adam, and Jess hung out near the bandstand looking for other teenagers. Two girls approached with Coca-Cola bottles and asked if she wanted one. Their smiles were welcoming and Betty offered Jess a sip of her own. Jess took one sip and knew it was spiked with alcohol. Jess laughed and pretended that was okay.

Betty and Marie Coggins were both older, but assumed Jess was their age, and when they asked her what grade she was in, Jess lied. Betty, a senior, was tall, with a face no one could call pretty, but she moved her body in a provocative way. Marie, younger by a year, was a short beauty with a buxom figure. She tried to imitate Betty's gestures. The sisters attended Mt. Chesnee School for Girls near Asheville. They bragged about the Christmas and Spring Formals at the school, and how great it was to room with other girls.

“My mother went to Mt. Chesnee,” Jess said. “She talked about it all the time, when she was alive. My daddy promised I could go, but I think he's forgotten.”

“So that woman you're with is
not
your mother?” Marie's curiosity was aroused. “Who is she?”

“Just somebody my daddy married.”

“You mean she's your stepmother?” Betty asked. “What's she like?”

“Mean, I bet,” Marie said, hopefully. “Do you hate her?”

“She's okay, I guess.”

“What about your brother?” Betty's voice grew quiet. “I saw him today.”

“What about him?” Jess knew Betty would make fun of him.

“Is he your real brother?” Marie asked. “He is
so
good-looking.” They had seen Adam only from a distance—preparing his fishing gear or riding in the car with Edward.

“He's
her
son. Not my real brother.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Betty asked.

Adam's height made him attractive. He shaved now, and his jaw had a strong, manly look. He had a sweet smile and curls falling above bushy eyebrows. Jess thought he looked like the framed photo of a younger Calder.

“How should I know?” Jess hated these questions and wanted to talk about something else, but they kept urging her to bring Adam with her tomorrow night. “I don't think so,” she said.

“Why not?”

“He gets up early to fish with my dad. I don't think he wants to stay out so late.”

“We'll make it worth his while,” said Betty. “You could at least ask. What's his name?”

“Adam.” Jess pretended she would ask him, but the next afternoon Jess saw the girls on the beach and Marie said that she had already asked him.

“What'd he say?” Betty looked eager.

“Nothing. I think he's shy. But he
might
meet us,” said Marie. “Anyway, he seemed pretty excited when I said he should come.”

“I don't know,” Jess said. “He's kind of strange.”

“I don't care,” Betty said. They were irritated with Jess. “Just bring him with you. Okay? He obviously wants to.”

Jess showed up alone that night. She waited until Edward and Clementine went to sleep and climbed out the window. She thought Adam was asleep too, but he was waiting to see where she went and climbed out his window to follow her to the beach. Jess was already with the girls and they kept asking ‘Where's Adam?” until Betty saw him coming over the dune through the grass and waved to him. He ran across the sand at an awkward gait, and the girls were laughing. But the moment he spoke, his words came out elemental and hollow-sounding.

“I came,” he said, his voice echoing in on itself.

“Damn,” said Marie. “What's the matter with him?” She was speaking to Jess.

“Nothing,” Jess said. “You said you wanted him to come. Here he is.”

“Yeah, but what's
the matter
with him? He talks funny.”

Adam looked confused. “What's the
maat-ter
with me?” He laughed too loud, the way he laughed when his feelings might be hurt.

“Look at him. He walks like an old person.” Betty pointed to a gull on the beach. “Like that bird.”

“Okay, okay,” Jess said. “He's slow. Okay?” She turned to leave, to take Adam with her. “He can't learn like everybody else.”

“No,” Betty said, sounding apologetic. “Don't go. It's okay. I have some stuff stashed down the beach. Let's go.” Her voice became full of mischief. “Marie has a flashlight.”

“And more than just a flashlight!” Marie shouted. She gave Adam the flashlight and told him to turn it on.

“C'mon.” Betty took Adam's hand, and they ran on the beach. Adam's heart pounded in his chest and his throat felt tight. He laughed loud, a real laugh this time. Jess followed to a place on the beach where a fire had been built the night before. Betty told Adam to look for sticks and brush so they could build a new fire. Jess helped him and saw how Adam loved being part of the group. They brought back an armload of twigs. Marie put paper in with the sticks and lit a fire. Betty pulled off her shoes and helped Adam take off his shoes and socks, then led him by the hand to the water where they splashed each other. He looked happier than Jess had ever seen him. Marie turned on her portable radio to hear Eddie Fisher sing “I Am Yours,” then Nat King Cole's “Walkin' My Baby Back Home.” Marie squatted down on her knees and swayed to the music.

When Adam came back, Marie asked him to dance and, though he couldn't, she showed him how to put his arm around her waist. She wore shorts and her shirt rose up to show her belly. Finally, she just danced alone, purring with her own vanity. Adam could not stop watching her.

Jess was observing Adam closely. She wasn't sure this was all right, but liked seeing him in such a normal setting. She was glad he came. Betty spread out a large blanket and they all sat down. She handed Coca-Colas to everyone, and cups. Then she poured whiskey into the cups. Jess didn't want to refuse, so she drank hers. Adam took a sip and poured his out. Betty laughed and gave him more.

“He might not want any,” Jess said, but he sipped it trying to please Betty. The sun was down and the fire, their only light, threw sparks onto the sand. Adam shivered. He said that he felt goose-pimples on his arms and huddled closer to the fire. He kept telling them about the fish he had caught until Marie told him to
Shut up about the fish
.