Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

you to sleep in here with me," he said. "Until I'm able to get around myself," he added quickly.
    "Sleep here, Papa?"
    "Yeah," he said. "You can make a bed out of that settee there. Go on, see to it," he ordered. I rose slowly, amazed. "I looked over the paperwork you did, Lillian. It's real good, real good."
    "Thank you, Papa." I started away, my mind full of muddled thoughts.
    "And Lillian," Papa said when I reached the door.
    "Yes, Papa?"
    "Tonight, after dinner, you'll give me my first sponge bath," he said. Then he poured himself another bourbon and lit a cigar.
    I left, not sure whether I should be sad or happy about the turn of events. I no longer trusted fate and thought destiny was an imp that toyed with my heart and soul.

 
    11
PAPA'S NURSE
     
    After dinner that night, I read Papa his newspaper. He sat up smoking his cigar and sipping his bourbon as I read, and every once in a while he would make a comment about this or that, cursing a senator or a governor, complaining about another country or another state. He hated Wall Street and at one point ranted and raved about the power of a small group of Northern businessmen who were strangling the country and especially strangling the farmers. The angrier he got, the more bourbon he drank.
    When he had had enough news, he declared it was time I gave him his sponge bath. I filled a large basin with warm water, got a cake of soap and a sponge and returned. He had already managed to pull off his nightshirt.
    "All right, Lillian," he warned. "Try not to splash the water all over the bed sheets."
    "Yes, Papa." I wasn't sure where or how to begin. He lowered himself to his pillow, put his arms down his sides, and closed his eyes. He had the blanket up to his waist. I started on his arms and shoulders.
    "You can rub a little harder, Lillian. I'm not made of delicate china," he said.
    "Yes, Papa." I did his shoulders and his chest, washing and rinsing in small circles. When I reached his stomach, Papa lowered his blanket a little.
    "You'll have to lower it the rest of the way, Lillian. It's too difficult for me to do."
    "Yes, Papa," I said. My hands were trembling so much that the blanket actually shook. How I wished Papa would have simply hired a professional nurse to take care of him. I washed around his cast, trying to keep my eyes focused on his leg. I felt the heat in my face and knew I was crimson with embarrassment. When I glanced at his face, I saw Papa had his eyes wide open and he was scrutinizing me closely.
    "You know," he said, "you do look a lot like your real mother now. She was a very pretty young lady. When I was courting Georgia, I used to tease Violet and say, 'I'll forget Georgia and wait for you, Violet.' She was a very shy young lady and she would get all red and hide her face behind a book or go running off."
    He emptied the whiskey in his glass in a gulp and nodded to his own memory.
    "A pretty girl, a very pretty girl," he muttered, and then he fixed his gaze on me. It made my heart skip a beat and I quickly lowered my own eyes to the water in the basin and rinsed the sponge.
    "I'll get a towel and dry you, Papa," I said.
    "You're not finished yet, Lillian," he said. "You've got to do all of me. A man's got to be clean all over," he said. My heart was pounding. There was only one area I hadn't washed.
    "Go on, Lillian," he said. "Go on," he coaxed in a more demanding tone when I hesitated. I brought the sponge to his most private parts and moved it about quickly. He closed his eyes and a soft moan escaped his lips. When I felt him twitch, I jumped back, but he. seized my wrist and held me firmly, squeezing so tightly, I grimaced in pain.
    "How far did you go with that boy, Lillian? Did you come close to losing your innocence? Is that what this reminds you of? Tell me," he said, shaking my arm.
    Tears burned beneath my eyelids. "No, Papa. Please, let me go. You're hurting me."
    He relaxed his grip, but nodded with a disapproving look.
    "Your mother ain't done her duty with you. You don't know what to expect, what you've got to know before you go out in the world. It's not a man's responsibility to teach you, but with Georgia like she is, I'll have to take up the slack. Only I don't want anyone knowing what goes on between us, Lillian. That's private, hear?"
    What did he mean, "teach me"? Teach me what and how? I was trembling so hard, my knees knocked, but I saw he was waiting for an answer, so I nodded quickly.
    "All right," Papa said,