Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels) (23 page)

BOOK: Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels)
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“Aw, just call me Gram. I know I talk like a mean old broad but I’m not really so bad—not once you get to know me.”

Most of us (the sisters and Sky) stayed in the house that night. There were two bedrooms upstairs and two down (one of which was occupied by Gram). Sunshine and I shared one of the upstairs rooms and Breeze and Moonlight shared the other. Sky took the other downstairs bedroom and the other two brothers threw Sky’s old mattress down and camped in the loft above the barn (which they said was also inhabited with mice who liked to frolic at night). But everyone was so exhausted from the long trip that despite the conditions I think we all slept soundly that night.

The next morning I found myself in the kitchen again, attempting to fix pancakes, bacon, and eggs for eight hungry people. Sunshine tried to be helpful, but I quickly discovered that of the four sisters I was the only one who knew anything about cooking and that really wasn’t all that much. After breakfast Sky came in with Breeze and Moonlight in tow, then said to me, “I want to talk to you outside.” He turned to the other three. “You sisters finish cleaning up in here.”

I wondered if I’d done something wrong as Sky walked me out to the backyard. I knew that the bacon had been a little underdone and some of the pancakes a little dark.

“Rainbow, I can see I’m going to really be needing your help here.”

I sighed in relief. So I wasn’t in trouble. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

“And I just don’t want it to turn out that you’re doing all the work. So we’ve got to make a plan.”

“Okay.” I looked at him, waiting expectantly. After all, he was the plan man.

He ran his fingers across his chin, which I’d noticed had gone unshaven for several days now. “I think what I want to do is to put you in charge of all the household.”

I nodded, unsure as to what exactly this meant but willing just the same, anything to serve God and my brothers and sisters. “Okay,” I said, waiting for him to explain.

“But I don’t want you thinking that means you have to do all the work. I want you to fix it so that all the sisters do an equal share—no slackers, you know? Can you handle that?”

I frowned, thinking how the other girls were all older than me and had been Christians longer… I’d sort of looked up to them, especially Sunshine. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, Rainbow. I really need you to do this for me.”

“Okay,” I said again, at the same time wondering how I’d handle overseeing the other sisters, especially Moonlight. Would they even listen to me? What if they didn’t respect me? But I kept these doubts to myself.

He smiled and ran his hand over my head, giving my long braid a gentle tug. “Thanks, Rainbow. I knew that when God sent you to us it was for a really special purpose. It’s like your name suggests. Rainbow is the promise of hope.”

The warm rush I felt with his words was unexplainable, but it was in that moment I felt I’d probably do anything for Sky, anything at all. “Thanks, Sky,” I muttered, looking down at my feet and hoping my cheeks weren’t blazing, giving away my thoughts like two red flags. I would of course repent later.

“Oh, and another thing,” he said. “I think the sisters should all start dressing more modestly.”

“More modestly?”

He nodded. “Yeah. No more jeans and overalls and cutoffs. I think you should all wear dresses from now on.”

“Dresses?” I stared at him. “But this is a farm—”

“I know. But women used to wear dresses in the old days.”

“Oh, you mean like
long
dresses?”

“Yes!” He smiled again. “Long dresses.”

“But we don’t have anything like that—”

“Can’t you make some?”

“You mean
sew
them?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

“Well, I used to do a little sewing—”

“Great.” He smiled brightly. “Rainbow, you’re amazing!”

I felt my blush deepening, but at the same time knew I needed to stay focused and be practical. “But, Sky, how can I sew dresses? I don’t have any fabric—”

“Well, look around Gram’s house. She used to sew a lot. And if you don’t find anything to use, then I’ll take you to town to buy something. But have faith, little one. I’m sure that God will lead you.”

Although I was pleased at his attention I still felt a little overwhelmed and slightly confused, but I tried not to show it. Sky’s approval meant everything to me. “Okay, Sky, I’ll do the best I can.”

“I knew you could handle this, Rainbow. You are a true gift from God to me.”

And so it came to pass that I was put in charge of the sisters.

 

Seventeen

 

O
n our third day in California, almost a week after we’d left Brookdale, the seven of us gathered out at the end of the driveway just before sunset, right next to the road, to officially dedicate the farm to God’s service.

The brothers had constructed a rustic sign made of twigs nailed and glued to an old barn board that announced who we were to all passersby:
The Promised Land.
First we sang praise songs as River and Stone set the posts into the muddy ground. Then we all got down on our knees, right there in the dirt and gravel, and prayed that God would richly bless us and our new home.

I don’t think Gram ever knew that we had renamed the place, but then perhaps it didn’t really matter since, as Sky so eloquently put it (during our little dedication ceremony): “In all actuality, this land belongs to God and God alone—and he is simply loaning it to us for this season. Let us pray that we use it for his glory.”

To my surprise, the sisters didn’t resent my new role of leadership—at least not at first. Well, other than Moonlight, that is, but then I think she would’ve resented anyone other than herself in this role. I suppose she made her objections fairly obvious by the way she ignored me most of the time.

Fortunately Sunshine and Breeze seemed to respect that I knew a little more about cooking and housekeeping than they did, but then I’d had most of my life to learn these things whereas they’d lived in “normal” households with mothers who apparently took care of all these troublesome domestic chores for them. As it turned out, other than me, Breeze was the only one who actually knew how to do laundry—and so I immediately appointed her head laundress. And since Gram’s dryer was broken down, this was no easy task. The small clothesline quickly proved inadequate for the drying needs of eight people. Fortunately for Breeze none of us were overly consumed with cleanliness (back then we had a tendency to wear our clothes for days without laundering) but between sheets and towels and Gram’s needs it was definitely a daily chore, and it wasn’t long before the brothers got a bigger, sturdier line hung.

When I informed the sisters that we were to begin wearing dresses, and as soon as possible, I experienced some natural resistance. But I wisely suggested they take their grievances up with Sky. And he quickly set them straight on this issue, quoting by memory from the Bible about how women were to be modestly dressed and not to cut their hair, which wasn’t a problem since we all wore our hair long and had no intention of cutting it anyway. So the new spiritual dress code was agreed upon.

I located Gram’s sewing closet during that first week, and although Sky had told me to “appropriate” whatever I needed (because everything really belonged to God anyway) I somehow felt obliged to approach Gram first. I must admit to feeling slightly guilty about this, as if I was going behind Sky’s back, but while everyone else was out working on the land—our biggest and most immediate challenge—I sat down to talk with Gram.

I suppose in some ways she reminded me of my own grandma, although the two women were as different as night and day. Perhaps it was just her age that I felt respectful of. Whatever it was, I tried to befriend this old woman and probably spent more time with her than any of us, including her own grandson.

“How are you doing this morning?” I asked as I placed a fresh cup of coffee on her ever-present TV tray.

“Oh, I’m all right, I guess.” She made a disgruntled face. “I just wish that darned TV of mine hadn’t gone out like that. Land knows it’d been running just fine for years. And I really miss my good buddy, Bob Barker, on
The Price Is Right”

I patted her pale, flaccid hand, but kept silent about the fact that Sky had actually unplugged the “evil” television when the old woman had been asleep in her bed. He’d told us that television was the devil’s tool and the way that Satan would eventually poison all the minds of the current generation, which may have turned out to be partially true. And so the next morning, when she tried to turn her TV on, we all just pretended to be surprised and to show concern, acting like we were trying to see what was wrong, and then finally Sky stepped in and told her that the picture tube had gone out since it was a pretty old television after all. He told her he’d take it into town to get fixed, but he had actually ordered the brothers to set it out in a corner of the barn and throw a tarp over it. It would be destroyed (along with a number of other things) later on.

“Would you like me to read to you from the Scriptures?” I offered. Sky had strongly recommended we try this approach whenever Gram complained about missing her television.

“No thank you! I’ve heard enough Bible reading of late to last me right up until I meet my Maker, which may not be so far off now.” She ground out her cigarette and then coughed loudly, hacking into her ever-present handkerchief. “Just don’t know what’ll do me in first—diabetes, these lungs, or pure
boredom!”

“So you really believe you’ll see your Maker then?” I tried to change the subject back toward more spiritual things—Sky expected such from us.

She took a sip of her coffee, then slowly sighed. “Don’t know why not.”

“Don’t you ever worry that you might not be living your life the right way?”

She laughed, but it sounded sarcastic. “Don’t see how I could be living the
wrongway
—the good Lord knows I can’t do much more’n move from this sofa to the bathroom to my bed—and sometimes I can’t hardly do that. Don’t see how that’s hurting no one.”

“But don’t you want to live a life that’s pure and holy and dedicated to God?”

“You know, honey, this is what I just can’t quite figure out with you kids—what is it exactly you’re trying to do? You act like a bunch of religious fanatics, like you think you’re going to work your way into heaven or something.”

“God wants us to live our lives set apart for him. He calls us to holiness.” I’d been learning a lot lately, and Sky gave us regular Bible lessons several times a day—sometimes he could go on for hours. And we were required to take stringent notes (this as a result of River falling asleep once after dinner).

Gram slowly shook her head, then leaned back into the sofa, her nearly blind eyes gazing blankly toward the ceiling. “Well, I’ve never been one to put on any pretenses about knowing anything about religion. And although I went to church a fair amount as a little girl, I’ve been neglectful as an adult. But in the past few years I’ve grown painfully aware that I’m coming to the end of my life. Good grief, my doctor told me more’n a year ago to get my affairs in order—” she laughed, “—whatever
that
means. But his warning did get me thinking about religion some, and I remembered what my own dear mother used to tell me back when I was just a small child. She used to say that Jesus Christ was our free ticket into heaven—that all we had to do was to
receive
him. Now that seems simple enough to me.”

“Yes,” I said, not disagreeing with her in principle. “I suppose it is that simple. But I guess what we’re trying to do is to live a better life right now—while we’re still here on earth. We want to serve God in the best way we can.”

She smiled. “Well, I suppose that’s not such a bad thing, dear, not really. Especially nowadays when so many kids are taking LSD and protesting and doing God only knows what else. I s’pect being overly religious ain’t such a bad thing. Just you remember what my old granny used to tell me.”

“What’s that?”

“She used to say that some folks should watch out not to become so heavenly minded that they’re no earthly good.”

I thought about her words, and I knew I’d heard them before, probably from my own grandma, but to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t exactly sure what they meant—at least not then. “Well, I don’t think we need to worry about that, Gram. But speaking about earthly goods, I found a closet that’s just full of sewing things.”

She nodded. “Yes, I used to enjoy sewing. But then I got sick, and my eyes got too poor. I suppose I should just get rid of all that old stuff, maybe give it to the Goodwill or something.”

“No, no… we don’t need to get rid of it. I mean if it’s okay, maybe I could use it.”

“Sure, honey, you do whatever you like with it.” She turned her face toward me. “You’re a good girl, Rainbow—” Then her mouth twisted as if she’d just bitten into a sour lemon. “Tell me, dear, what’s your real name?”

I thought for a moment, then looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was around before I answered in a whisper, “Cassandra Jane.”

She patted my hand again. “Cassandra Jane. Why, that’s a real pretty name. Much better than Rainbow.”

BOOK: Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels)
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