Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

I kept running and running and running. My foot got stuck in a soft part of the road and when I pulled up, it came right out of my shoe. It seemed as if the very earth were trying to swallow me up. I was so panicked I didn't even notice I was running with a bare right foot. I ran on and on until I was gasping for breath and had to stop. Then, clutching my stomach, the pain excruciating everywhere on my body, I fell to my knees and sobbed and sobbed.
    Suddenly, I heard the sound of an engine and looked up. I screamed just as Luther's truck came to a stop directly in front of me, the bumper of the truck nearly touching my face. He got out and helped me to my feet, but I was mostly in a daze, my hands and feet numb with cold. He lifted me up and carried me around to put me into the truck. My head fell back against the window. My teeth were chattering so hard I thought they would break. He threw the old brown blanket over me and backed the truck down the road a few hundred yards and turned back into the driveway. Apparently, I hadn't gotten very far; I had been running in circles.
    Luther drove up to the rear of the plantation house and carried me through the back door. Miss Emily, with Charlotte at her side, her face aghast, stood like a sentinel, her arms crossed under her small bosom.
    "You little fool," she said. "You foolish little fool. Just lucky for you, Luther happened to gaze down the road and see you running about like a chicken with its head chopped off. You should have yours chopped off for this."
    She nodded at Luther and he took me into the pantry and lowered me to the tub. Then he left and Miss Emily stepped up to pull off my wet and soiled dress. I couldn't stop shivering; my teeth continued to clatter. Luther brought in pail after pail of warm water. As the level built and more of my body was covered, I began to feel a deep fatigue in my lower limbs. No longer concerned about my nudity, I lay back and let Luther pour the warm water over my shoulders and breasts. Finally, Miss Emily declared it had been enough.
    "Get out," she commanded and held up a towel. I rose slowly and, with Charlotte's help, stepped out of the tub. Miss Emily wrapped the towel around me quickly.
    "You've lost a shoe, I see," she said. "You'll have to do without it and go barefoot now. I don't bear fools and sinners easily. March up to your room," she commanded.
    My legs barely carried me along. The cold floor under my bare feet made it feel as if I were walking over a frozen pond. Charlotte held my arm as I started through the kitchen, but Miss Emily gave me no assistance. I struggled to climb the stairs, getting so dizzy at one point, I thought I would faint and roll down the steps. I reached out frantically and grabbed the banister.
    "Just move on," Miss Emily said, her words like a whip striking my naked shoulders. I took a deep breath and continued. When I reached my horrid room, I remembered I no longer had a blanket. As soon as Miss Emily lit the kerosene lamp, she saw that immediately.
    "You lost your blanket out there, didn't you. I should leave you without one just so you would learn your lesson," she said.
    I didn't have the strength to talk back. I crawled under the sheet and pulled it up to my mouth, wishing I could pull it over my head and die.
    "Go bring her another blanket," she ordered Charlotte and ranted and raved about my ingratitude and how much more difficult I was making an already horrible situation. I kept my eyes closed until Charlotte returned with the blanket and spread it over me.
    "Thank you, Charlotte," I said in a voice barely strong enough to sound more than a whisper. She smiled.
    "Leave her," Miss Emily said. When Charlotte left the room, she stepped up to me. "Where did you think you were going in this weather?" she demanded.
    "I wanted to mail my letter," I said.
    "Yes, your letter."
    I looked up and saw she had opened the envelope and taken out the letter.
    "You had no right to open the envelope and read that," I said.
    "Again, you tell me what I have a right to do and not to? How dare you tell someone I should look into the mirror to see the devil? How dare you call me a religious fanatic and say I'm not human? How dare you call anyone else names anyway, you who bear the mark of sin? And who is this . . . this Daddy Longchamp? Is this the man who kidnapped you when you were a baby? Why would you want to contact such a person?" she asked when I didn't reply.
    "Because unlike you and Grandmother