I smoldered away the morning, trapped in an inferno of blazing thoughts that crashed in and upon one another. Visions of Daniel's lopsided grin collided with the sound of Pa's laughter and the rich smell of Aida's cream soap. The vein in Philip's neck twitched. Frank coughed up black, dusty phlegm. Samson giggled. Mama laid bleeding in her bed. My own voice seared through all of this, burning a hole from the inside out.
If I chose to burn my own damned hands off with lye then that is precisely what I will do, and if I choose to run away I will do that too, and I don't need some foul stranger to take me. I will go right on sticking my head in mounds of dust if I so choose, and I will pull it out and use it when I feel inclined to do so. And if I choose to spend the rest of my days wasting away in my shabby clapboard house dreaming of Philip and Paris and rain, so be that too. Maybe I am the prettiest girl in town and maybe I ain't, but it doesn't make one wit of difference to me what some slithering horse lover has to say about it. And if that little blonde twit wants to call me names she can just go right on ahead, 'cause ain't a soul in town what validates her opinion anyway.
The denim of Mr. Bingham's trousers slapped furiously upon the washboard while I scrubbed and fumed.
Ain't none of this up to no one but me. No ghosts or ghouls or strangers are gonna stop or start me. And who needs any of them?
Daniel's lopsided grin flashed in my mind and the cycle started over again.
I hung the clothes haphazardly on the line, not caring whether the dust would kick up and leave them filthy again by nightfall.
I walked away, not looking at Daniel in the pasture or Aida watching him from her perch on the fence, its paint just now beginning to curl and peel at the mercy of the dry wind.
I walked around the house and down the road. My steps clicked in time to the words firing off from within my brain.
Twit, step step, liar, step step, fool, step step, damn fool, step, leave, step, me, step, alone, step step.
I had to see Philip.
Philip would calm me down, bring me some peace, some perspective and comfort. My feet were carrying me to him before I made my choice. Good Philip with his high intellect and his silver tongue; his mild manner would soothe me. His soft voice would heal me, relieve me of this childish preoccupation. What a fool I was to have ever let my attention wander from so worthy a subject to so low a scoundrel. But I would make this right. With Philip before me, I could restore my fancies to their safe and truest place.
Daniel's lopsided grin flashed in my mind.
I shook my head and broke into a run toward the apothecary.
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