In Search Of Her Own. Carole Page Gift
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about?”
Victoria hesitated. Should she tell him or get by with an evasive answer? “I’m doing a comparison study,” she said.
“Whatcha comparing?”
“The lives and works of Flannery O’Connor and Sylvia Plath “
“Never heard of them,” he scoffed.
“They were American writers who died in the early sixties,” she explained patiently
“So why bother about them?”
She felt as if she were back in her lecture hall at the university. “They both wrote intensely and perceptively about the dark side of human emotion.”
“The dark side?” Maude echoed suspiciously. “Sounds like devil talk to me.”
Victoria shrugged. “I suppose you could put it that way Both women explored the dark, disturbed or evil side of human nature. I want to demonstrate how their God-consciousness, or, in one case, lack of it, influenced their lives and work.”
“God-consciousness?” Sam grunted, as if she had said something stupid.
“Yes,” replied Victoria, wishing she hadn’t pursued this very personal subject of her thesis with the Hewletts. Her thoughts and ideas were still in an embryonic stage, fragile, vulnerable. She didn’t want to damage them by exposing them to the Hewletts’ scorn or contempt. Still, she had begun this conversation; she might as well finish it. “O’Connor embraced God heartily,” she explained, “and her faith shows in her work just as it showed in her life. In spite of a long, debilitating illness, O’Connor managed to achieve a fulfilled, abundant life.”
“So?” snapped Maude. “What was she? Some saint? We all got our crosses to bear, you know “
Victoria cleared her throat imtably and pressed on. “Plath, on the other hand, desperately longed to believe in God, but ultimately she rejected Him In spite of career success, marriage to a famous poet and two healthy children, Plath succumbed to despair and committed suicide when she was thirty.”
“That don’t mean nothing,” said Sam. “Lots of people do that. What’s your point?”
“My point is,” persisted Victona, quelling her exasperation, “a person’s God-consciousness affects and, in fact, determines his or her earthly and eternal destiny.” She considered adding a word about Christ and redemption, but witnessing about her faith was still a new and terrifying prospect for Victoria. She had already said more than she intended. She didn’t want to come across as a pious prude or a bookish, intellectual boor
“It’s all a lot of hogwash, if you ask me “ Maude snorted. “The way I see it, the devil’s the one you gotta watch out for. I learned that at my mama’s knee “
Victoria managed a smile. She carefully pushed back her chair and said, “I’m really tired. I think I’d better get to bed.”
Maude stood, too. “Suit yourself, Miss Carlin I’ll show you the way “ She led Victoria down the hall to her room and opened the door. “Everything’s ready. There’s extra bedding in the closet. Sam plugged in an extension phone for you. Of course, you pay for any long-distance calls you make.” She looked around as if trying to recall something else, then added, “The bathroom next door is yours. You get fresh towels and sheets twice a week.”
Victoria gazed appreciatively around the neat, homespun room. How inviting the bed looked with its fluffy eiderdown quilt! “Thank you, Mrs. Hewlett. I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here.”
Maude nodded. “You should be. It’s a good, comfortable room. Belonged to my daughter when she lived at home.” She stepped back out of the doorway. “I’ll leave you be now. Breakfast is at seven sharp.”
As soon as Victoria shut the door, she sank down on the bed with delicious relief and let her aching muscles relax. If she wasn’t careful, she would fall asleep in her clothes. I promised to call Phillip when I arrived, she remembered suddenly. He’ll worry if he doesn’t hear from me tonight.
She sat up and reached for the phone on the night table. Phillip answered on the first ring. The sound of his voice sent a tickle of excitement through her She missed him already. “Were you sitting on the phone?” she inquired lightly.
“Just about,” he admitted. “Frankly, I was beginning to think I should have driven you, after all.”
“I was beginning to wish that, too.”
“The trip that bad?”
“That long.”
“I’m sorry. I really would like to have been with you.”
“Me, too. You have a way of making time pass more quickly.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment, but I’ll take it as one.” His voice lowered a notch as he asked, “Have you found out anything yet?”
“No, nothing. It’s too soon. I had a rather interesting chat with the Hewletts tonight, but I’m afraid I did most of the talking.”
“Is that wise?”
“Probably not. But they asked me about my thesis. Once I get going on that, I—”
“Victoria,” Phillip interrupted.
“What is it?”
“That sound in the phone. Do you hear it? Sort of a hollow, airy echo.”
“I hear you fine, Phillip.”
There was a sudden click and the echo was gone.
“Someone was listening in, Victoria,” said Phillip.
“You mean someone here.the Hewletts?” asked Victoria incredulously.
“You bet. We’ve got to watch what we say. If you have something to tell me, go to a pay phone somewhere.”
“Are you saying the Hewletts suspect something?”
“Who knows? But we can’t take a chance. Everything you do and say must be above suspicion. That’s the only way I’ll let you stay there.”
“This was my decision, Phillip,” she reminded him gently. “And I alone will decide when I leave.”
“All right, Victoria,” he replied coolly. “But let me remind you, this isn’t a game you’re playing The stakes are very real. Your life could be in danger.”
Phillip’s warning played jarringly in Victoria’s mind later as she slipped into bed and pulled the covers up around her neck. Even though her body was exhausted, she wasn’t sure her mind would let her sleep She argued silently with herself. Surely Phillip doesn’t really believe my life is in danger. But how trustworthy are the Hewletts? They’re an odd sort, but certainly they wouldn’t harm me. Nor can I believe they would do anything to hurt their own grandchild. But then, where is Joshua? One thing for sure, he’s nowhere in this house, or Maude never would have rented me this room. But why does she claim he’s dead? Is he? she wondered. The idea was unbearable. After all these years, when Victoria had finally dared to reach out to her son—he couldn’t be dead!
She thought about the photograph in the living room of Joshua with his adoptive mother. She traced his features in her mind-his soft red hair, his little impish smile, the darling freckles on his upturned nose. She imagined herself holding him in her arms the way the woman in the picture held him. Then a wrenching thought gripped her. Who was comforting Joshua now that his adoptive mother was dead? Who was wiping his tears?
Dear God, please—where on earth is my son?
Victoria found that more than her anxieties over Joshua kept her awake. Being in a strange, new place made sleeping difficult, too. She heard peculiar noises—water running through the pipes, the constant scntch-scratch of a tree limb on her window and the chill wind creaking through the weathered timber of the old