Chapter 2

We walked the mile and half back home silently. I wasn't sure what Danny was thinking, but the woman's words were echoing in my head. Drew and Matty had scampered off into the bushes ahead of us, playing tag or some other game of their own invention. As long as they weren't bothering me, I didn't care. There was nothing but farmland for miles, so they couldn't get into too much trouble. I was still mad at them for interrupting me and Thomas back at Tildy's. I love my brothers, but sometimes they drove me crazy, especially Matty and Drew.

I realized immediately that it was Danny who sent them to bother me, but I can't be mad at him, not after what I had witnessed. He needed rescuing from that nosy old woman. I'm just sorry I came too late. I knew he was upset with me for wanting to talk to Thomas. I saw the puppy dog look he gave me and how he slowly slumped off into the corner, but...well...I really wanted to talk to Thomas. I figured Danny would go read, and then when we walked home I would apologize. Mary Dee had told me that Thomas thought that Danny might be my boyfriend and I wanted a chance to let him know that I was...available. I just didn't think that anything could happen to Danny while I chatted with Thomas. But seeing him as we walked home, I could tell that something big did happen. And I wished with all my heart that I could go back and leave the malt shop when he wanted to.

Glancing over at him, I tried to gage his mood. It took a lot for him to lose his temper, and I'd never seen him blow up at a stranger before or since. He was normally so laidback, it had really shocked me. I wondered what I had missed of the conversation. What I had heard was enough to upset anyone. Had the old woman said any thing more?

Danny had always been a solemn, serious kind of guy, not given to smiling much, but I had never seen him frown so deeply as he was then. His lips were pressed together so tightly that a white line had formed around them and there was a deep crease across his forehead. I watched surreptitiously as he striped the leaves from a fallen stick and used it to switch the heads off of dandelions as we walked along, his wrist flicking more forcefully than necessary. He was definitely upset.

The truth was, the old woman had upset me too. I was used to people sometimes assuming that Danny was my brother, or lately, my boyfriend, because of all the time we spent together. He had been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and until recently...well, we were always together. But people outright asking if he was my brother hadn't happened for years. Most of the people we came in contact with were from around Shelby and strangers were too polite to ask - usually.

I had never really taken the idea seriously. But as I watched Matty jump out of the bushes and scare Drew with a dead...something...I noticed that Danny did look a bit like him, given the age difference. Both were tall for their ages, brown haired, though Danny's was a bit darker, and brown eyed. But then, I argued with myself, Uncle Rafe had brown eyes, and so did Aunt Evelyn. But Danny's eyes didn't really look like theirs I had to admit. His eyes were on the smallish side, almost squinty, like he was constantly looking at the sun. Not really like Aunt Evelyn's or Uncle Rafe's, but were they enough like Matty's? Were their similarities...that similar, or just more of a coincidence?

I couldn't help sighing softly. Suddenly the old woman didn't seem so crazy. A seed had been planted in my mind and the more I watched Matty darting in and out of the bushes and compared him to Danny, the more my curiosity grew. It was like an itch that just had to be scratched. The old woman had seemed so sure of what she was saying - even with her crazy cackling. Could she be right? Could Uncle Rafe not be Danny's father?

I'd never seen Danny react so strongly - or so rudely - to anyone. Where I was always ready to go, ready to say or try anything, Danny was always the voice of caution. Oh, he'd follow along eventually - when he knew that I was going to do it, whatever it was, anyways, but he always had to look everything over first; to think it through. Of course, he was also the one who would do all the talking when we got in trouble. No one could stay mad at him long. He could be polite and apologetic to a fault. I guess that's why his little outburst shocked me so much. The old woman must have really touched a nerve to upset him so much.

I really wanted to talk to Danny about it, but the look on his face told me he definitely wasn't in the mood to talk. I'd known him long enough to see that. If the idea seemed possible to me, then it might have seemed possible to him. Maybe that's why he had gotten so angry...he had seen the similarities between himself and Matty and hadn't liked it. I couldn't blame him.

Instead of getting him to talk, which I have to admit was my first instinct, I reached over and took his hand, given him a comforting squeeze. He didn't look over at me, but he did squeeze back, holding my hand tightly as we walked the rest of the way home in the warm afternoon light, our shadows joined in front of us. He was my best friend. I didn't like to see him hurting, but I knew there was nothing I could do for him at that moment, except to be there for him.



That night I made my plans. Daddy had always been a big advocate of the truth. So, I decided to do a little digging in our families' history. If we could find out the truth, then at least Danny would know it and could deal with it...whatever it was. All this wondering was not good. Of course, we could have just come straight out and asked...but if it wasn't the truth, then I didn't want to go and upset everybody for nothing. Besides, I didn't want to give them time to come up with some story...if they were lying about who Danny's father was.

I decided that I would start with the family pictures. And then, if I didn't find some distant relative of Uncle Rafe or Aunt Evelyn's who looked like Danny, I would move on to asking some discrete questions. I had settled on the idea of pretending to write a family history paper. I thought it was a brilliant idea. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I was excited at the prospect of my detective work.

My excitement waned when I saw Danny at the bus stop the next morning. He looked haggard and drawn, like he hadn't slept all night, which he probably hadn't. Who can sleep when you've just been told that your whole life was a lie? I sat down with him on the bus, but he didn't even look at me.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

He shrugged, his eyes staring vacantly out the window. "Fine."

"You don't look fine," I pointed out, gently.

He scowled over at me briefly. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

He definitely wasn't in a good mood. "Danny look, " I tried again, "about yesterday..."

Running his hand through his hair in characteristic gesture of nervousness, he looked over at me. "I'm fine Grace. I don't want to talk about yesterday. The old lady was just crazy. End of story."

"But Danny...."

"Stop it Grace," he snapped, shocking us both. "Look, I'm sorry," he apologized. "Why don't you go find an empty seat and wait for Thomas...his stop's coming up, right?"

"I'd..."

"Just go, Grace, okay? Just leave me alone." Turning away from me he stared out the window. I watched him for a moment, seeing the defensive hunch of his shoulders, and the dark circles under his eyes. He wanted me to think that he didn't believe the old woman, but I knew him. I could see his fear...I could practically smell it. But knowing Danny he wouldn't do anything yet.... he'd wait and see if more evidence would turn up, but he wouldn't start looking. The idea would grow in his mind and take root, if it already hadn't, and it would bother him until he learned the truth. He might not be ready to look yet, but I was. I needed to find the truth for him, to give him peace of mind. It was the least I could do.

I started right after school. Danny had baseball until 5, so after I got off the bus I went to visit Aunt Evelyn. She didn't work at the hospital on Mondays, so I knew I would have her all to myself for a few hours, if needed. I walked up onto the porch and paused just outside the door, taking a few deep breaths for courage. As I stood there I watched Aunt Ev working in the kitchen. She certainly didn't look like the mother of a 15 year old. Her long brown hair, which she usually wore up in a bun while she worked, had only a few strands of gray and there wasn't a single wrinkle on her face, I swear. I wanted to age as gracefully as my aunt. She was just as skinny as she had been before Danny was born. And just as elegant.

I knocked softly on the door, causing her to jump slightly.

"Hey Gracie," she smiled at me, moving to open the door. "School out already?" she asked. I was surprised to see how tired and pale she looked in the harsh light of the kitchen. She looked like she'd had the same sleeping problem as Danny.

"Yeah. I just got home," I told her, setting my books on the table. "And I needed some help with some homework."

"Okay," she said, giving me a quizzical look. "I'll help you any way I can. Have a seat. I need to get this roast in the oven so it will be ready when Danny gets home." She turned back to the counter and began cutting up some potatoes. "What do you need?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, you see...I have to write a family history paper...for Mr. Jarvis...and I was hoping that I could look through some of the old family albums. Daddy doesn't have many pictures of when he was a kid, but I thought.... well, I thought Uncle Rafe might have some.... just to give me some background, you know," I rattled off quickly, hoping I didn't sound too rehearsed.

"That shouldn't be a problem. You know where they are, right?" she asked over her shoulder.

"In the living room," I said, standing. "I'll just give them a quick look through. I don't want to get in your way."

"We'll, make yourself at home. I don't know how many pictures there are of your father, but you're more than welcome to look."

In the living room I quickly scanned the albums, locating one dating 1920- 1925. Uncle Rafe would have been five to ten years old. I flipped through it quickly. I easily recognized Grandma and Grandpa McCawley. Of course, they were younger than in the picture we had of them in our living room. Most of the photos were stiff and posed, with extra tint added, so that in one of the pictures of Uncle Rafe he actually had blues eyes. I studied each picture carefully, but I could see nothing of Danny in the photos of Uncle Rafe, or his parents. The coloring, maybe, but it was hard to tell.

I was staring at one candid photo of Uncle Rafe when he was around ten- years-old. He was standing with his father, holding up a decent sized fish. It was the best picture of him so far and I wanted to make sure I wasn't missing something.

"What are you looking at?" Aunt Evelyn asked, coming in from the kitchen and sitting beside me.

"Oh, uh...just this picture of Uncle Rafe..." I stammered in answer. "I was trying...to tell...uh, where, he, uh...caught the fish..."

"I don't know," Aunt Evelyn said, taking the picture from me. "They used to go fishing all over the place." She smiled as she looked at it. "He certainly was a sturdy little boy," she chuckled. "Look at those cheeks! My grandma would call those pinching cheeks."

"Sturdy?" I had to ask. I had noticed that as a child Uncle Rafe was built differently than Danny. He was shorter and....studier, I guess.

Aunt Evelyn continued to smile as she put the photo back and began to look through the pages with me. "Rafe was a very sturdy little boy. Almost chunky at times. He didn't outgrow it until his teens, I guess."

Interesting, I thought. "How were you growing up?" I had to ask. "Are there any pictures of you when you were a kid?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. My great aunt has all the family albums, and I've never gone to get them," she shrugged. "I was a little chunk myself," she laughed lightly at Graces disbelieving expression. "Honest. It runs in the family. I just lucked out and got some of my father's genes and I out grew it eventually."

"So, you're father was tall and skinny?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Skinny yes. Tall, not really," Aunt Evelyn replied. "He wasn't much taller than me actually."

I cataloged the information for further use. It appeared that neither side of the family had a tendency to be tall and skinny like Danny. It's possible that he got his height from Uncle Rafe and his skinniness from his Grandpa Johnson, but so far I had seen no other family resemblances. I wanted to look at the next set of pictures, but Aunt Evelyn seemed intent on helping me look through the albums, laughing lightly at pictures of Uncle Rafe and other's that she knew. I didn't see any that caught my eye, but I knew I would need to take a closer look at the teenage pictures, and I didn't want Aunt Evelyn to become suspicious.

"You don't have to help me," I told Aunt Evelyn. "I can look through this stuff myself. I just need to...get an idea...of ...what things were like around here."

"Oh, it's no bother," she said, opening the next album, 1925-33, the one I really wanted to see. "I haven't looked at these in years."

I stifled a sigh. "Okay, I just don't want to keep you from anything."

Just then the porch door opened and I heard Uncle Rafe come in. "Evelyn? Can you give me a hand please? I cut myself on the back hoe." Aunt Evelyn rolled her eyes and I tried not to giggle. Uncle Rafe was not always the most mechanically inclined of men. "Oh, hey Gracie," he said when he saw me.

"Hi Uncle Rafe," I replied. "How's your arm?"

He looked down at it sheepishly. "It's fine. It just needs to be cleaned. What are you two doing?"

Aunt Evelyn stood up, walking over to look at his arm. "Grace is working on a family history paper for school and she wanted to look through the photo albums to see if she could find any pictures of Danny," she told him. "Come on, let's go get this cleaned." Without a backward glance they went off to the bathroom. Finally I was alone.

It didn't take me long to hit the jackpot. There weren't that many pictures in this album. Mainly I think because Grandma McCawley started getting sick towards the end of 1931 or '32. I know she died when my dad was 17. There were a couple pictures of my dad and my dad and uncle Rafe, but none of them gave me a good look at their faces - until I found The One. I can still remember the shock I felt when I first saw it. It was like Danny was staring right back out at me...only I knew it was my father standing next to Uncle Rafe and Grandpa McCawley.

Making sure that Aunt Evelyn or Uncle Rafe hadn't snuck down the hallway when I wasn't looking, I carefully took the picture out of the album and slid it into my pocket. Evidence. I flipped through the rest of the album, and in my excitement none of the other pictures caught my eye, until the very end where some extra pages had been slipped into the back of the album.

A pretty, young brown haired woman with sad eyes posed primly, while a stern faced man stood stiffly beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder. I could tell by the clothes they wore that the picture was older than the others in the album. There was another picture of the man and woman again, but this time she was holding a baby, then another formal picture of a smiling toddler, probably 3 years old. There were about a dozen more pictures of the woman and little boy. I was half way through them before I realized who they were. This was my grandmother...and my grandfather. These were my father's baby pictures. I had never seen a picture of his parents, my grandparents, but I recognized them now. My father's eyes were exactly like his mother's, and the dimple in his chin...that was just like his father.

In all my life I had never heard my father talk about his parents. I knew his mother died when he was very young. Three or four, I guessed from the sudden lack of photos. And I knew that he had moved in with Uncle Rafe after his father died when he was thirteen. They were all he talked about, Jake and Bethany McCawley. They were my grandparents, as far as daddy was concerned. It was strange to look down at this man and woman and see the resemblance - to know them as family, but to know nothing about them. I carefully removed the pages, setting them aside to take home with me. I didn't think Aunt Evelyn would mind.

Knowing that Aunt Evelyn would be finished doctoring up Uncle Rafe soon, I quickly grabbed the album marked 1942-46, off the shelf. I had baby pictures of my father, now I wanted to compare them to Danny. The resemblance wasn't as much as I had expected, but it was there. It was strange flipping through the pages and suddenly seeing a picture of Danny and me and another of Uncle Rafe holding Danny, and daddy holding me. We all looked happy, but were we living a lie even then? There were no pictures of just daddy and Danny. There was one of Uncle Rafe and me, and another of mom holding Sam as Danny looked on, but nothing of daddy and Danny. Had that been deliberate? Did nobody want to take a picture that could have more meaning than they had intended? Had daddy avoided being alone with Danny? I didn't know. I couldn't even guess.

I had definitely found enough evidence to warrant more investigating, I thought, as I gathered my things and the Walker family photos. Now my next step was to start asking some questions. Who to ask first was a tough one. I didn't want to appear too eager, or they might get suspicious. I needed to think it over a bit more.