The Speed of Mercy by Christy Conlin (good books for high schoolers txt) đź“•
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- Author: Christy Conlin
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The next morning they find Granny in the garden. She’s gathering up flowers in one arm, magenta phlox and late daisies, and lamenting: “Girls, you can’t go to Mercy Lake. Don’t go to Mercy Lake. That’s where Stella Violette went. She should never have gone. She could swim. I don’t see how she drowned. Don’t go to the lake, girls. You’ll drown there. That’s what happens at Mercy Lake. I can’t remember how to keep you safe. What has resided in me, it left this morning at dawn.”
Then Granny Scotia goes wandering towards the marsh. They jump when Frank calls from behind them. They hadn’t heard him drive up. He must have been listening. Frank doesn’t say so, but his face says so. Frank tells them that Granny is having a spell, that she’s having them more and more often now and they shouldn’t pay attention. “I’ll just follow her out to the marsh and see how she’s doing, girls.”
Stella looks around and then up at the sky, fantastically hopeful a flock of birds might pass by and swoop down to her rescue. She doesn’t know what to do. Her bicycle isn’t here. Her father is away. Cynthia sits down in the grass and Stella sits beside her. For once, Cynthia’s smooth calm face is troubled.
“Your aunt died at Mercy Lake. Granny said your father blamed himself. So did my father. They were with her in the boat. She could swim. The Sodality back then, back in 1940, was still weird, you know — a cult, I guess, some strange religion. And when the church helped you, you had to pay them back with something. My grandfather was dead by then, and Granny didn’t really know what was going on. I mean, only men could join Sodality, go to the meetings in that old hall in the village. They didn’t go to church anymore. It was just this weird fellowship. But your grandfather owed my grandfather’s family money. He never took care of his debt. Now your father owes my dad money. Because now your grandfather’s debt is your father’s debt. They never forget.”
“What? What do you mean they had to pay them back? With what?”
“Well, your grandfather had to pay them —”
“With what? What did he —”
“He had to pay them with . . .”
“Yes?”
“With your aunt.”
Stella feels her breath draw back over her tongue, drying out the inside of her cheeks. She picks a dandelion from the lawn and blows it, and lets the empty wishes float away.
“Something about purity. That’s all I’ve been able to figure out when Granny goes off the rails. I think Violette had to marry someone.”
Finding her voice, Stella said, “But she was only thirteen years old!”
“I know. They took her to the lake. It was summertime and there were men visiting on a backwoods hunting trip, rich American and European men who came up. They went out in canoes and back into the woods with guides. She didn’t want to go. I don’t know it all, Stella, only bit and pieces.”
Cynthia reaches for Stella’s clammy hand and pulls her closer, dropping her voice, looking over her shoulder and then back at Stella. “Your father would know. He was there, Stella. He and my dad took Stella Violette out. At first she didn’t want to go, so the men got our dads to take her. They tricked her. They were only fifteen. She was thirteen. They didn’t have much of a choice. And then she went into the lake. Your dad tried to rescue her. But it was twilight. And your grandmother was very upset. They had tricked her as well. She hadn’t even imagined that could happen. Your father was sent to boarding school. While he was there, your grandmother tripped and fell down the stairs. Your father, he came home for the funeral but he went crazy. They put him in the Nova Scotia Hospital. He wasn’t the same afterward, Granny says, ever. And then he went back to boarding school.”
Frank and Granny are walking back towards the house now, Granny leaning on Frank’s arm. She seems better. After she goes inside, Frank tells them he is taking her to see the doctor.
The house is quiet after they leave. Granny didn’t even protest, and got in Frank’s car without a word. Cynthia is reading and Stella takes a nap. Her head has filled with a tedious pain. Her brain is trying to tell her something. Cynthia has known the whole time what happened to Stella Violette. She wonders what other secrets Cynthia might be keeping from her, or assuming Stella knows. Maybe it isn’t just Stella who has been hiding things.
The phone rings just before supper. It’s Frank, Stella can tell right away.
“Granny isn’t well,” Stella hears Cynthia repeat. She’s gone into the hospital for tests.
Cynthia tells her father there is food in the fridge, that she can get supper. There is a silence and then Cynthia says in a quiet, hard voice that they are teenagers and, no, Tommy Jessome doesn’t need to come over and keep them company.
Stella and Cynthia wait outside for Frank, who said he would take them to see Granny Scotia at the hospital. It’s Saturday and the air is warm, although a few early-September leaves are turning orange and yellow. Frank arrives but doesn’t get out of the car, and the girls hop in back. They drive down the lane with Frank talking about the splendour of fall, how much Stella will appreciate it. They don’t turn into the village but head out into the country.
“I thought I’d take you girls out to Mercy Lake. I’m having a group of men out for a get-together. You girls can come and entertain yourselves.”
Stella says nothing. She doesn’t want to go
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