Singing Heart Read online

  Copyright © 1993 by Darlene Purcell All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission. This story and all of its characters are fictitious. Any resemblances to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All of my writing is dedicated to my darling daughter Crystal Xzan, whose beautiful smile, adorable giggle, tender heart, generous spirit, amazing perceptions, honest observations, unconditional love, and curious nature will always be my never ending source of hope and inspiration...

  "I will love you forever pudding head!"

  Chapter One

  “What are you doing Mama?”

  Rebecca Winslow smiled dreamily down at her tiny daughter lost in the music.

  “I’m escaping…” she confided mysteriously.

  Closing pale blue eyes she drifted deeper into her own world long graceful fingers gliding smoothly across the ivories. Xzan stood transfixed, clinging to her mother’s indigo silk skirts, overwhelmed by some nameless emotion stirring deep inside of her soul. Grannie Winslow peered at the chubby two-year-old over the top of round rimmed spectacles thin lips puckering in a frown.

  “Sissy! Leave mother alone. Come sit by me.”

  A thin blue veined hand patted a spot next to her on the divan. The tiny dark haired girl meekly obeyed pulling herself up awkwardly on to the rose colored cushions. Grannie pushed silver spectacles higher up the bridge of her aquiline nose concentrating once more on the hem of the skirt she was repairing for her daughter-in-law.

  “Becca!” Papa’s voice boomed from the hallway.

  Rebecca rose gracefully hurrying to welcome her husband home. Grannie finished her handiwork and pushed herself up groaning with arthritic pain. She walked slowly bones creaking audibly with age intent on hanging the garment before it wrinkled.

  Left alone Xzan slid off her perch, padded over to the piano eying it longingly. Heart hammering, she climbed eagerly atop the glossy redwood stool placing short baby fingers experimentally across the keys. Listening intently to each note she discovered it sounded deeper to the left, higher and sweeter to the right. It made sense in a funny sort of way. A kind of rhythm in itself.

  The vibrations of the strings inside the instrument, resonate, swelling to a crescendo, made her heart sing euphorically. Her parents embracing, talking in the hallway about a scandal at the bank were silenced as the first innocent strains of a melody wafted faintly to their ears. Rebecca drew away from her husband, eyes huge with wonder.

  “Listen…”

  Puzzled but compliant, Paul bent his ear towards the parlor door. “Who…”

  Rebecca placed a restraining finger gently to his lips, pulling him along excitedly as she tiptoed towards the sound. Peeping in they both stared in wonder, sapphire and emerald eyes darkening in awe. Their daughter sat daintily, ruffled pink skirts flowing over the sides of the seat, white stocking feet dangling a foot from the floor. Dark ringlets cascaded down her back to her waist as her head tilted backwards and sooty lashes fanned flushed cheeks. Her face glowed with an angelic smile curving roseate lips as she felt the music to the core of her being.

  Rebecca and Paul were enthralled, continued eavesdropping until Xzan finished playing. Her eyes were luminous with discovery. Rushing, she climbed down afraid of being caught, ran throwing herself on the divan when she heard the parlor door creak open.

  Her parents walked in as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, pretended they hadn’t heard, unsure of how to react to such genius, desperate to encourage it. From that day forward Xzan was left alone an hour each day to let nature take it’s course. Her parents listened delightedly always in the shadows, enthralled as their child discovered different stringed variations, mimicking music she’d heard or making up her own.

  *****

  Paul shook the snow off of his topcoat, hanging it crookedly on the antler rack beside the doorway. He hated coming home to a silent home, wondering what had transpired in his absence.

  “Are you hungry Paul?” a feminine voice startled him.

  He jumped eying his housekeeper warily.

  “Oh Mammy! You gave me a start. What are you doing up so late?”

  Mammy grinned, exposing huge yellow stained teeth, an imposing figure even in the dim candlelight. She was tall for a woman, almost his height and corpulent. Fading red hair fell in a thick braid down her fleshy back. Frizzy curls framed plump rosy cheeks under a snowy ruffled nightcap. She waddled toward him wheezing slightly holding up the gleaming taper to peer at his weary features.

  “You look exhausted. I saved you some dinner. Warm up by the fire, I’ll bring it to you on a tray.”

  Before he could respond she had bustled out of the hallway expecting to be obeyed. He laughed, as always doing her bidding. Mammy was bossy. She had known him all his life, helped raise him. Even if she did reduce him to the status of a small boy she meant well. He walked in to the parlor leaning over to stoke the fire before settling his lanky frame in an overstuffed chair close to the hearth. The fire blazed brightly, crackling noisily, sparking orange and gold flames as the timbers burned acridly. Mammy was back almost instantly. Paul’s mouth watered in anticipation as he inhaled the savory aroma of roast beef.

  Mmmm, his favorite meal. Thinly sliced meat dripping in brown gravy that oozed over into the creamy mashed potatoes. Tiny peas, baby carrots, thick slabs of freshly baked bread melting in butter, slices of onion and hot apple pie. A steaming cup of tea laced heavily with sugar completed the meal.

  “Thank you Mammy. It looks delicious.” he praised, digging in with relish.

  Mammy didn’t seem anxious to retire back to her nice warm bed. Perhaps she sensed his loneliness and decided to keep him company.

  “We need more dishes.” she palavered.

  “How come?”

  “The baby’s been playing in the kitchen again.”

  He grinned visualizing his daughter’s whirlwind activity, wiping a small dot of gravy off of the corner of a handlebar mustache.

  “I’ll see that you get new dishes. Don’t tell me you stayed up and fed me my favorite dinner just to complain about Xzan. What’s really troubling you Mammy?”

  The old woman wrung her chubby hands woefully pacing in front of the fireplace nervously, casting monstrous shadows on the wall.

  “It’s not the child Paul. Rebecca has told me that the kitchen is my domain and given me permission to correct the baby when I need to so she won’t destroy it. I’ll grant she is a handful… but I adore her… you know that.”

  Paul continued eating waiting patiently for her to get to the point. She halted in front of him amber eyes seriously concerned. She was afraid of overstepping domestic bounds despite her twenty-year seniority with the Winslows. Taking a deep breath she plunged in.

  “It’s your mother. I’m scared to death she might hurt herself or someone else.”

  Paul quit chewing, green eyes narrowing speculatively.

  “What do you mean? I know mother is getting forgetful… it’s harder for her to get around these days… but she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

  Mammy hastily agreed.

  “Of course she doesn’t. She wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone. She’s getting senile. I’ve had to watch her for a long time now. I never said anything because I didn’t want her to lose her dignity.”

  Paul suddenly lost his appetite. Placing the wooden tea tray beside the chair on the end table he lit a cheroot wetting the end with his tongue.

  “What exactly are you referring to?”

  Mammy blurted it out, wringing pudgy hands miserably.

  “She insisted on helping prepare dinner last Friday night. If I hadn’t watched her closely we’d all be dead. She used rat poison instead of flour in the brea
d. When I showed her the box she got hysterical… called me a liar… said I was trying to take over her family. You know I wouldn’t ever do anything of the kind Paul. She won’t listen to me anymore. She’s confused and scared…sees me as some kind of monster that’s out to get her. I have to make sure she can’t hurt herself or us accidentally. Until now she’s never been this dangerous for me to have to call it to your attention. I’m sooo sorry. I just don’t know what else to do. It’s such a shame that she’s become so old and feeble.”

  With those final words Mammy exploded into massive sobs that shook her whole body like a jellyroll. Paul stood up taking the enormous woman in his arms patting her clumsily.

  “Now, now Mammy. No one knows better than I do how devoted you are to us. You’re part of our family. I knew mother was senescent but I didn’t realize she was debilitated. I’ll talk to Becca about it. Among the three of us we’ll find a way to handle her in a kind way that won’t frighten her. Thank you for letting me in on your secret. I know how much you love mother. I hope you understand that she can’t help the way she is becoming. She would never hurt you for anything if she realized what she was doing.”

  They talked a few more minutes and when she had calmed down he sent Mammy to bed, slightly sniffling, eyes red rimmed but greatly relieved to have unburdened herself. Poking back an ambitious log securing the fireplace, then locking up, he ascended the spiral staircase stopping to peek in on his little girl. He was startled for the second time that night as his dainty wife slipped warm arms around his waist squeezing him lovingly. He drew her close into the crook of his arm kissing her forehead. They gazed with mutual parental adoration in to the room.

  Swallowed by a four poster bed Xzan looked cherubic in slumber. Dark curls splashed across a lacy pillow. Luxuriously long eyelashes were stark against pale skin, miniscule arms wrapped around her favorite doll. Tiny feet were exposed to the cold. Why was it children always kicked off their covers? Releasing his wife Paul stole into the room quietly. Leaning forward to graze small rosy lips which were puckered invitingly in repose he pulled the quilts up to her tiny chin. Xzan never stirred. He sighed as he closed the door to her bedroom draping a tired arm over his wife’s shoulders. Rebecca looked up love shining tenderly from sky blue eyes.

  “Doesn’t anyone except the baby sleep anymore?” he teased, tweaking her breast playfully.

  “Not until the lord of the manor is safely home.” she countered softly.

  “I’m glad your awake.” he nibbled her ear lobe enticingly.

  She giggled melting closer. His arm tightened perceptibly as he slid his lips across her cheek to claim her delicate mouth. She responded shyly accepting the intimacy never initiating it herself even after three years of marriage. He wondered idly if she’d ever get over blushing when he showed her his desire. He hoped not. It was part of her sweet charm.

  *****

  She was in a lush green valley scattered with a myriad of yellow and white blossoms. Xzan ran in wild abandon laughing delightedly tossing herself in to the middle of the field of delicate flowers relishing their heady fragrance. Then she saw him.

  An older boy. His hair was black like her own. Longer than boys were supposed to wear theirs. To his waist. It was braided in front on both sides and decorated with bright bird feathers. The back hung loose, straight and thick.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt or pants just some kind of blanket around his middle held in place by an odd looking beaded belt. He seemed startled by her appearance, frowned, staring rudely.

  Desperately lonely, Xzan decided that despite his strange apparel he might make an interesting playmate. She picked one of the wild flowers presenting it to him with a radiant smile. He turned snorting with disdain, then walked away with his head held proudly as if he were superior to her. She ran after him begging him to stop.

  “Please! What’s your name?”

  He sped up his pace continuing to ignore her. Xzan cried out broken-hearted, sinking down into the grass miserably alone.

  Then she awoke.

  *****

  “You’d better come down, before Mama sees you, Sissy. You’re going to fall and break your neck!”

  A mischievous smile curled ruby lips as she ignored her brother’s dire warning.

  “You’re just scared. Too much of a coward to climb trees. It’s a whole different world up here. You’ll never see it because you’re afraid of falling. I feel sorry for you.”

  The little boy huffed drawing himself up to his full height proudly. “I’m not scared of anything! You’re just a dumb old girl. You’re going to get a spanking for not minding too!”

  Xzan ignored his threat laughing, blue eyes darkening devilishly. She tempted him using another tactic.

  “No I won’t. You know Mama never spanks me, just says she will. Really Paul you ought to see the farm from up here. It little bitty like a dollhouse. Mama looks just like a tiny doll hanging out the wash.”

  Paul looked up uncertainly. Xzan was dreadfully high. Her petticoats had ripped on the branches as she climbed up. Red puffy scratches decorated her arms. His sister always did things that were dangerous but she never got hurt the way his parents predicted. He was dying of curiosity to know what it would be like to see the world so high off the ground.

  “Oh come on!” Xzan urged him naughtily. “You’re wearing pants. It will be easier for you to climb up here than it was for me. Quit being a pansy! You’ll never live life if you don’t take risks.”

  Paul not wanting to be labeled as a coward by his older sister whom he secretly admired began the ascent apprehensively. One branch at a time. His frail body trembled with excitement. He held his breath refusing to look down advancing toward the highest part of the old oak where Xzan stood precariously balanced eyes dancing with approval. She reached down beaming happily.

  “Good boy! See you can do it. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Paul reached for her hand to let her pull him up the remaining distance. Just then his foot slipped. He screamed in terror arms flailing wildly, snapping limbs in his wake as he plummeted to the ground. Xzan shrieked in horror staring in disbelief at his lifeless body below. Heedless of the branches that poked and tore her clothing ripping her tender flesh she slid out of the tree as fast as she could go.

  “Mama!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  Sobbing hysterically she rushed over to Paul’s small form. His face looked like wax, colorless against dark curly hair. Xzan lifted his thin head into her lap protectively tears splattering his cheeks as she leaned in close to his mouth to find out if he was breathing.

  “God,” she prayed aloud, “Please don’t let my brother die! Mama!” she screamed in anguish.

  Rocking him desperately, cradling him close she called his name repeatedly trying to wake him.

  *****

  Xzan covered her ears tormented by the sounds of her brother’s screams. She was sitting outside of his door. Mama and the Doctor were setting his leg and arm. Thank God he hadn’t broken his neck!

  She was responsible for his pain. Wished it were her lying in there instead of him. She deserved to be the one hurting. Paul was just a baby. He never did anything wrong. If she hadn’t egged him on he would never have climbed that tree.

  The piercing screams subsided. Mama waddled out of the room heavy with child her face as blanched as her son’s, drawn and serious. It was obvious her nerves were frayed. She looked exhausted. Instead of the reprimand her daughter expected Rebecca opened her arms. Xzan flew into them burying her face in her mother’s bosom tears falling anew.

  “There…there,” Mama soothed “Paul is going to be alright. It will take awhile for his bones to mend but he will recuperate.”

  She lifted the little girl’s chin. Xzan’s effusive smoky blue eyes pleaded for forgiveness.

  “Do you see why I told you not to climb that big oak tree? This is what can happen. It could have been worse. You or Paul could have died.”

  Xzan shudd
ered nodding her head solemnly, vowing to herself this was the last time that she would ever disobey her parents.

  “I’ll be a good girl from now on Mama. I promise! I’ll make Paul and the twins mind too.”

  She buried her ebony head in her mother’s breast clinging for dear life sincerely meaning what she had promised. Rebecca smiled weakly. Knowing that when her son’s injuries were healed all would be forgotten. Her little girl would seek the excitation and thrill of discovery that she inexorably seemed to crave. Rebecca hugged her tightly. Xzan was so full of life. She fretted over her but also admired her child’s zest for living. She had the courage to try anything once and the imagination to think of it.

  Rebecca knew she probably should scold Xzan more severely for her own sake but she couldn’t bring herself to add to the heartache and fright the child had already suffered over her brother’s accident. Besides you couldn’t change what you were inside. Her daughter would always covet glitter or new adventures that might take her all over the world. Her motto was; ‘The most important thing in life, is to live it.’

  Rebecca couldn’t destroy that spirit in her child. Even if it meant being silver headed by the time the little girl was grown having to worry over what exploit she might attempt next.

  “I love you sweetie. Now be a good girl. Come help Mama with the twins. We’ll make Paul a tray and you can bring it up to him after he wakes.”

  Leading her six year old by the hand downstairs to the kitchen she observed how fast the tears dissolved as Xzan watched the twins throw peas at each other using the tips of their spoons. Rebecca smiled contentedly listening with maternal ears to childish laughter. Her hands would always be full. It was what she wanted out of her life. Every moment was precious with her children and at the end of the day when they were snuggled safely in their beds she was content to lay in her husband’s arms knowing she would wake to his and their smiles. What more could any woman want than to love and be loved by this crowd of characters.

  *****

  Xzan lay daydreaming, absently chewing on a blade of grass. Her siblings played ball in the distance. Mama was leaning against a tree cradling her slightly rounded belly. She hadn’t announced this pregnancy yet. Xzan had seen the signs so often she no longer needed to be told.