X. Caught Between
Unqualified as Eli was to pass judgement, his flaying of Daniel's soul left Mary's father figure as open and vulnerable as she'd ever seen him. Daniel's baptism of fire reinforced Eli's revelry in his foe's latest misery. Withdrawn and wistfull as he walked with her later on the night of his baptismal day, Daniel led her to the shore where they sat in reverential quiet. A pensive gaze at him relayed her yearning to be held by him but he only stared out across the truculent aquatic plains.
Bilked of familial privileges despite standing at his side, she felt his quiet abrogation of her was unfair. She wasn't the one who did him wrong. She wanted to prevent it, to rush to his side, hell, she wanted to murder her own brother in his defence! Blood was still blood and spilling that of a brother solidified where her loyalties were. Why was he unable to see that? His stolid reverie, not unreasonable, disturbed her, because if he didn't want to talk then she shouldn't have been invited. Of course she understood his need of recovery from the disgrace the baptism painted him with but he needed to at least look in her direction for her mood to improve, regardless of the summons for her to be at his side so that he could feel better.
She supposed her mere presence was meant to provide consolation and that she had no real need to say anything. As well as she knew him, he knew himself best. Perhaps sitting near him was enough for him despite her inexplicable urge to do more. Wanting to do anything she could and still respect his need for collected silence, she covered his hand with hers, cracking his disconnected reserve and earning a smile from him. But that was all he could give her for the time being.
The good that turned out of the open disgrace was that the demonised oil prospector had become acquitted in the town's belief. The effacing imbroglio had shrived him of the terrible wrongs he was responsible for and martyred him. Afterwards, a handfull of the womenfolk began spreading word that the rough baptism might've been too much for a parent who'd too recently dealt with a family tragedy.
While the town was steeped in its see-sawing nastiness, one good aspect was that Eli began traveling on missions to spread the message of the Third Revelation. Spread across California at various locations, the ambitious preacher was eager to infect with his pious toxin far and wide, trusting that he had effectively debunked any doubt of Daniel's twisted skullduggery and had planted the ferocious seed against his enemy in the hearts of his friends and that they would carry out his work in his absence. To his youngest sister, these days were a vacation and each time he went she'd hoped it was for good. She was never that lucky and when Eli returned, Daniel also suffered.
Days passed into weeks and nothing changed. The damage to his wilful strength of character was extensive, the use of H.W. as a weapon against him had perforated his soul to its core. The unconscionable public excavation of his private affairs left the vibrant man desiccated by the weight of his misgivings. That even the Devil gets his comeuppance before the Lord and Daniel Plainview was the Devil was Eli's univocal message to all. With every one of his secret, dirty foibles exposed by the forced contrition, even his men began to doubt his competence as a person thereafter.
In too short an amount of time, because Eli was the ultimate arbiter of the land, Little Boston forgot that they had expiated Daniel and returned to its bitter renouncements of him yet he still did not care. They were drowned out with the sorrows of his heart, the whiskey in his flask and the hard work he threw himself into in meticulous travail as if the salty sweat of his efforts would purify what bothered him. H.W. had been the core of Daniel's existence. The soul of the man was gone with the little boy he'd voluntarily left behind.
For Mary it was difficult to leave behind what Daniel was to her. Imperfect or not, he was her rock, her great oak, her angel whose arrival was so poignant in her life. A personification of the North Star, he was a reliable constant in her life, an unfaltering guide out of her hell, forged from pure light and goodness despite the grievances others had with him. He was an embodiment of strength and to purge that image from her mind because he exhibited human frailty was deplorable. No matter how they tried to shatter him, his spirit refused to be brought down, vulcanised in his despondency despite their persistence to rip him apart. However, that strength was a spider web's thread she worried would snap, notwithstanding his determined pride to hide it. After all, the Grand Canyon was created by centuries upon centuries of water whittling it down to form what it is today. How much more could he take? What would happen to her if they succeeded in breaking him? With her cathexis in him created by a timeless need, she was beholden to him and bore the stigma of a limitless, unconditional love for the man who had delivered her from certain evil. Perhaps it was a convoluted delusion but it worked for her and if it was fictitious then she needed the lie to make life more tolerable to live. An underprivileged life with a monster God was not any kind of life. Someone forgot to let Eli in on a little secret: fearfull veneration for a God was meaningless compared with the respectfull veneration for a father. And her father was Daniel Plainview.
Father figure and surrogate daughter continued to honour their daily pilgrimages to the shore. An impenetrable veil of inquietude through which she could see no emotion parted them but she allotted him the time he needed. One evening in the cool, dim twilight the grave, inscrutable silence crumbled when, while fixated on the point where ocean blended with sky, he spoke.
"I have a surprise for you," he disclosed, piquing her immediate interest. "But you'll have to wait. It arrives tomorrow evening."
"What is it?' she asked with great interest, blazing with exhilaration for the surprise and the words she patiently waited weeks to hear.
"If I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise," he teased. "Come to my office at six o' clock and it will be waiting for you." Then under his breath: "Things will be different this time."
Curious about what he meant, she didn't say anything because nothing would persuade him to let her in on the secret untill he meant to unveil it to her.
Guesses of what it could be were wild in her mind all night. Expensive gifts to rile her family's anger was his modus operandi. Daniel's inveterate gift-giving was never done fully out of love for her but also to get a rise more out of Eli than father, who strangely retracted his interest from any and all things Plainview. This new gift was only a nasty comeback for the baptism, and when seen from that aspect it disappointed her enough for her to want to refuse the gesture.
He loves you, Mary, you know he does. Don't fret so much about his ulterior motives, you enjoy how he makes Eli and father mad just as much as he enjoys making them mad!
The day after could not zoom away fast enough. Her time was spent working chores at the farm, knowing that Daniel was out with the new pipeline and needed to be undisturbed. She restlessly ambled around, her mind preoccupied with work and checking the hours frequently. When six o' clock chimed, Mary unleashed the intractable thrill she'd controlled the whole day as she ran posthaste all the way to the office. Already outside, Daniel was smoking his pipe and staring in the direction of the farmhouse as if guiding her path with his eyes.
"Mary!" he greeted with notable happiness. "As punctual as the sunrise! That's good. Let's go on inside and see what's waiting for you, shall we?"
She nodded then followed him upstairs, into the office, her mind rife with numerous possibilities. Anything could have been waiting for her, anything, and she was prepared for that anything except for what was actually there. The revered heir to the Plainview fortune, none other than H.W. himself, sat in a chair with perfect posture, their eyes meeting straight away. A fresh glow encompassed her.
"H.W.!" she expelled, rushing to the boy who rose to greet her.
Daniel's wide smile was merry as the children genially embraced.
"I missed you!" she clamoured vainly, instantly remembering the futility of speech.
She did not care that it was a worthless announcement, not when its truth brought joy. Adding his own delectation, Daniel stooped down to sweep them into his arms.
"My family is reunited," he declared, probably affirming for his own benefit. "Nothing will ever come between us again. Nothing."
First he kissed Mary then H.W., gave them a constricting squeeze of affection, then urged, "Run off and play. Reacquaint yourselves. I have business to discuss with Mr. Reynolds."
Men's business again, only this time she did not mind because she had her own business to take care of. Freeing herself from the embrace, Mary noticed for the first time the tall, thin man in the corner who had evidently arrived with H.W. and whom she surmised was his teacher. Taking her playmate's hand, she sprinted with him away from the office.
In the days that followed, she and her long-missed friend reconnected with great brio. The boy's homecoming was unwelcomed by a frowning Eli, furious that his hopes that H.W. would be gone forever were dashed away, showing what poor conception the holy man had for a father's love. But the coward remained quiet and glowered hatefully at the felicitous children, perhaps considering the divine purpose of the baptism a reification of his God for Daniel in the mongoose and cobra game they played. Although the prospector did not strike back for his ruinous baptism as was anticipated, their war was far from over.
The dismay of the Third Revelation was how short-lived Daniel's salvation was: after H.W. returned, so did the oil man's condemnatory Laodicean habits. His indulgent corruptions were immutable and he could not be saved after all, they wrote off. Their discouragement didn't deprive her of any time with the Plainviews. On the contrary, the upside was she spent more time with them. Having fallen ill with consumption over the winter, Abel accumulated an everlasting cough that robbed the household of sleep for most of the night. Full recovery was not expected and the family prepared for adjustments to accommodate their head of household but he was more moribund with every passing day. This came under Daniel's attention and the Sunday family was shocked when he called on mother that Saturday with a proposition.
"Mrs Sunday," he addressed blithely, removing his hat in proper respect. "May I speak to you in private? Perhaps outside where we can be alone?"
"Of course, Mr Plainview," she acceded, stepping out to join him.
Mary pressed against the window behind the drapes so she couldn't be seen; father was in bed trying to catch up on sleep lost by a nasty coughing fit earlier that day.
"I heard your husband is ill," Daniel summarised.
"Yes," mother admitted. "It appears his time to return to the Lord is drawing near."
Daniel cleared his throat.
"Yes, well, the truth is Mary isn't getting enough rest and, as you know, I've taken her under my wing and have been teaching her the business. She's an excellent student, might I add, and a promising businesswoman."
"I always knew that she was smart. Her and her brother Paul, that is. They used to spend hours reading together while tending the goats."
"Then I'm sure you're reasonable enough to understand that she can't learn if she's unable to sleep at night. Your husband won't stop coughing…"
"He can't help it, Mr Plainview…"
"I've come to collect Mary's things."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"We have room at the cottage and she's going to move in so she can rest properly and concentrate better on her studies. Sleep is imperative for a sharp mind. Your husband's interference with her sleep is taking its toll. I can't have that. Her future is riding on this, Mrs Sunday. She's being groomed for better things than living out a death sentence as a wife to anybody in this town."
"Well, I don't know how my husband…"
"He has enough troubling his mind and having Mary out of the way will be less worry for him."
The two negotiated the girl's emancipation for a protracted time before mother consented out of what was best for Mary and the girl swooned with elation. Her greatest dream was realised! She was going to live with Daniel! The door swung inward and both adults entered as she threw herself across the room in a lame attempt to hide that she'd been eavesdropping.
"Fetch what you need, Mary," mother instructed, "you'll be with Mr Plainview during the week. But on the weekends the arrangement is that you will be back here with the family."
Knowing she would want for nothing at the cottage, the rhapsodic girl packed the bare necessities, including the ledger where she practised her maths and the journal into which her daily thoughts were written then rushed back to where the adults waited. Kissing mother farewell, she grasped Daniel's proffered hand and walked with him through the dark desert and back to the cottage, he relieving her of the bundled possessions.
The already late hour found the Plainview cottage in its nocturnal settle upon their arrival. H.W., drunk on goat's milk and whiskey, was asleep in his bed like he'd never left. George sat up in the bed formerly occupied by Henry, reading a novel with a cover so battered the title was indecipherable. Daniel's bed was already turned down and waiting for her in palpable testimony of his confidence that he would once again get what he wanted, uncontested.
"Go on," Daniel urged softly in conscious effort to not wake his son. "Get yourself ready for bed. You'll be up bright and early."
"Where will you sleep?" she asked, the answer known but asked out of politeness any way.
"Don't worry about me, sweet Mary," he contended softly. "I'll be fine. Thank you for your concern. Now get some rest."
Carrying out his demands, she felt as if she was at long last home.
The arrangement Daniel made with mother was honoured when Mary went home to the Sundays over the weekend. As customary, the family planned on attending church service together but the second she stepped inside the house she was greeted by a different unfolding event other than church preparation. Father had died the night before.
At first she was numb, lobotomised by what was long foreseen. Stationery, she didn't know how to react; what to say or do were lost to her. When she finally sustained an emotion, Mary was dumbfounded that it was relief. There was no sorrow, not even joy. Just a great levity akin to a hunted wild animal safe in its den after being freed from a hunter's trap. Her emotional pause agitated a raw nerve in Eli who jarred her from her reverie, grounding her spirit from its flight.
"It's all your fault, Mary," he diagnosed when he espied her by the corral trying to regroup. "He found out that you left his house in favour of that heathen Plainview's. After that, things got worse and worse and we have you to blame, little Mary, the Plainview whore."
Daniel's protection always offered her impunity from the repercussions of fighting back, yet this was the first time she braved taking advantage of it. Now filled with tears and rage, newfound temerity obligated Mary to no longer withstand any of Eli's guff and, inertia broken, slapped him hard across the face before storming away. She stomped into a cluster of gnarled trees and wild grass, burrowed down with her knees drawn to her chin, buried her face into her folded arms and wept. Abel Sunday was still her father if by no other means than blood and her tie to him opened a gaping wound with his death, a wound Eli deepened with slanderous words. Death was never a wanted solution, even if the deceased was a cruel miscreant.
A crunch from the dry foliage drew her attention as H.W. traipsed through the tangle of wild grass. His eyes fell on her but the joy was vanquished from them when he noticed that her face was red and puffy from crying. Their gazes locked for a brief moment before he seated himself on the ground beside her.
Communication by no other means than presence was necessary: his nearness solaced her and if she knew how to sign her predicament to him she would have told him the story. But she didn't and made up for it by taking his hand in hers. A smile between them was shared then she proceeded to stare into another direction. Moments later he released her hand, scooting closer against her with a benevolent arm across her shoulders. The pair enjoyed each other's company in tranquility and Mary's soul healed in volumes. Under the weight of her burdens, she was content in this haven of solitude with H.W. and, rendered exhausted from her fit of weeping, slipped into sleep.
The sweet scent of cherry tobacco wafted into her dreams, a wraith beckoning her eyes open. Twilight lowered the curtain of night over evening sky and H.W. was still beside her in an identical state of slumber. The new addition to the thicket was Daniel, sitting with his back against the tree, smoking his pipe. His smile was gentle as he reached out to coax her to his side. She crawled over and he sat her on his lap.
"Are you all right?" he inquired quietly.
"Yes," she squeaked, nodding.
"I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry."
"Doesn't matter. He wasn't much of a father any way."
"Father enough for his death to affect you. It shouldn't but I suppose you can't help that it does. Don't forget that you have me and you have H.W. and you always will."
"I won't."
She nestled against his chest and cried, wetting through his shirt with a fount of tears. He rubbed her arm and stroked her back, consoling her to the best of his ability.
"That's enough, Mary, that's enough. He isn't worth a single one of those tears and you know it. Let's go home and put a hot meal into you two. Then you can do something productive."
Bed time was a struggle later as the child adjured Daniel to sleep with her in the bed so that his arms would forfend against nightmares of death and condemnation. Hesitant to submit, he argued and explained its inappropriateness but to no avail: she was a little girl in desperate search for rescue, having lost a significant but troublesome part of her life. Bereaved and lamenting, she beseeched him harder untill his eroded sympathies bested him and his willpower caved. Holding him back with the ferity of her need, she buried herself against his warm body. In that moment an essential understanding transferred between them through their bodily contact: unquestionable now was the authenticity of her paternity, verified by the actions of he who lay beside her and whose arms cradled her, never by the man whose flesh she shared but would be shortly interred in the ground.
In a conciliatory effort, Daniel ceased operations on the day of Abel's funeral. He came for the procession and service for the purpose of standing at his adopted daughter's side as solace and nothing more. The apathetic numbness from the previous day returned to the young girl staring entranced with blank eyes into the final resting place where Abel's casket was lowered. The desensitised feeling heightened untill her spirit disconnected from her body and hovered above herself, looking down upon her family, loved ones and enemies alike. Then, as if the gravity of the grave was sucking her in or Abel was drawing her down into it to take her with him, her soul crashed earthbound back into her robing flesh. The compression of the grave lifted, the rejoining of soul to body so cogent that she startled and required Daniel's steadying hand to prevent her from falling. She stayed close to him, dismaying Eli who noticed that mother and Ruth also huddled beside the heathen prospector as if he had automatically assumed Abel's role of head of household, a role rightfully inherited by Eli himself. Daniel spoke when spoken to and was terse as prevention of anyone speaking to him. When the service concluded, the family broke apart: Ruth was tended to by her sweetheart Matthew Atkins while Eli, fresh from his latest mission and home to deliver the eulogy, remained with mother. The sworn foes nodded obligatory acknowledgment of each other out of reverence for the dead, nothing more.
After the affair ended and Abel Sunday was in the ground, Daniel advised Mary to spend time with the Sundays for as long as she needed. Overhearing this, Eli thanked Daniel for being considerate to the situation but the oil man said nothing back. Finished altogether, he simply led H.W. away from the scene.
For a majority of the week, Mary stayed with mother and Ruth, learning that her prominent relief was shared by her fellow Sunday females. Death had manumitted them from domestic tyranny but a collective lifetime of duress made it difficult for them to believe it. Mother expressed an overabundance of sentiment and Ruth's content immersions into her boyfriend were a reticence of what Mary wore openly. The deadened emotions, expired long before the family patriarch, and the untethered relief churned with paranoia on the first night when Mary recounted the sensation of being vacuumed into the grave. Father did not want her to be free! He blamed her for his death and planned to drag her to Hell with him! Imaginings that the other side of father's grave wanted to claim her were dispelled only by the memory of what it was like to be in Daniel's arms. Focused on her father figure as sanctuary, the terror was short lived.
The only one broken by serious mourning was Eli. His disapproving scowls and critical observations were ignored whenever he joined them from the church or the shack he resided in behind the main house…the shack he once shared with Paul. She strove to evade being in the same vacinity as Eli so their irritation with each other would not further upset mother. Matthew often stole Ruth away to chase the loss from her mind and thus became the lone bright spot in the Sunday homestead as mother professed that wedding plans would be announced.
Another sensitive matter arose because of the funeral: the torment of Paul's whereabouts and how they could locate him to at least wire information of father's death. Alas, Paul was well-hidden, the girl knew, and wouldn't be found unless he wanted to be. Eli took advantage of the emotionally maimed family to smear more libel on his twin's name. It was as natural to the cleric as spreading butter on a slice of bread, debunking the myth that twins were always ensnared in deep bonds of brotherhood as if one person. The letter she'd written to her lost and found and lost again brother had been mailed by Daniel long before father's death but neither had received a response at any capacity. Unable to argue against Eli's allegation that Paul forfeited his familial rights the day he vanished without so much as a good-bye, Mary maintained her silence, keeping a timeless promise of loyalty. Nothing was done in the end since nobody knew where to start looking for the estranged Sunday except for Daniel and he was not telling. The pull of blood would give Paul a gut feeling about the death and he would know without being told, Mary believed. That was the gift and the curse of being bound by claret.
Months passed and Ruth and Matthew eventually made their matrimonial intentions known, as mother predicted, shifting the period of sorrow to a celebratory one. Yet two romances sweetened time's passage. Attention to detail was needless to notice the flourishing relationship between H.W. and Mary. She followed him wherever he went, as solicitous to master sign language from the boy and his tutor as she was to master the oil business from Daniel. Picking up on it quickly, she was in a matter of a few days able to communicate with her dear friend well enough without George's assistance.
The want of being independently conversant with H.W. made her take troubling notice of Daniel's neglect to learn sign language himself. He monitored George and the children laughing at jokes and learning from each other with a displeased expression for being kept out of the circle. His exclusion was a tragedy she abhorred to watch continue. Why he did not wish to know how to sign a single word or at least an I love you was a frustrating question mark. On one of her evening walks with him she voiced her pity through an offer to teach him how to sign so that he might be included but it was declined and Daniel entrusted her to tell him of any misdeeds that occurred unbeknownst to him.
Months progressed into years and much occurred in Little Boston. Ruth and Matthew set their wedding date and the entire town participated in preparations for the big day. The only other time when Mary saw her neighbours work so diligently was when Daniel first arrived and they were ready to shrug off the fin-de-siècle nuances of the old century and start fresh with his promises in the new. The Plainviews, too, were on the verge of change. The arrangement Daniel had made with Union Oil reaped a generous profit for the Plainviews and it was spent on two things. One of them was Daniel's gluttonous addiction to procuring new leases. Never-ending, it took Mary's concept of him being a king and raised it to a staggering degree as the exorbitant amounts of defalcated land came to include his ownership of everything that could be seen for miles and beyond. The second was an ostentatious mansion that he'd blueprinted for construction near the shore, relieving Eli who couldn't wait to rid the tycoon from his sight. To the shock of the town, Mary kept her place in the Plainview cottage even after Abel's death, spitting in the face of traditions dictating what a good daughter ought to do. Word got out that it was intended for her to live at the finished mansion as well, forever labelling her the bad seed.
While Mary wore the scarlet letter, Eli still brandished his halo of flies. The ambitious holy man closed his own deal while on one of his missions: WLRD radio in Los Angeles offered to air his sermons nationally, igniting the dollar sign pupils of Eli's eyes with esurient hellfire, excused with the endued faculty to reach more souls with his gift. Why shouldn't a radio station desire to employ Eli? The only gift the self-righteous young man had was that of the gab, voluble holy rolling and sanctimonious tripe coruscating effortlessly off his tongue. He was certainly a perfect candidate for radio broadcasting. Each time Eli returned home he was prettier and more polished than the last, walking with an arrogant swagger that encompassed his new aggrandised authority. Mary and H.W. made fun of him behind his back, branding him a worst opportunist than the man he'd scorned for the past few tumultuous years. The new radio contract may have enabled him to reach more souls but to them he was the same pretentious lickspittle he had always been, if not worse.
Nor did distance and time stop Eli from insulting Daniel. To Mary's horror he armed his radio programme with bloviated defamation toward her father figure on a wide spread public level, expecting the miles between them to provide a cushy buffer. The recrudescence of the feud came on a day when Daniel was in a rare good mood. Had they not coincidentally been in the general store at that precise moment they would've never themselves heard it. The broadcasts streamed from the radios of most Little Boston households each time one aired, the town boasting its pride in their successful favourite son, but the cottage was isolated far from the town so that they never heard a syllable of the sermons. Old man Tucker, who owned and ran the general store, had Eli's programme tuned in before they entered, filling the room with an opprobrious rant about an oil prospector whose demonosophy robbed a small town blind. No names were mentioned in the malicious allegory but there didn't need to be. Tucker pretended not to hear but arranged their supplies in a box while giving sideways glances at Daniel the entire time. Anger radiated through Daniel's hardened eyes and a painfully clenched jaw and the girl wondered how the pressure didn't fracture his teeth. She inserted a small comforting hand into his, smiling when he peered at her. The heat in his eyes abated and, thanking Tucker, he folded the box into his arm and exited the store with a dignity that raised rather than collapsed. A reprisal of the bad blood had been instigated.
There was a strange distraction to Eli's verbal assaults, however, and it was called puberty. Transformations proliferated as womanhood set upon Mary at the tender but less innocent age of eleven. Reminiscent of a phoenix bursting anew from flame and brimstone, her body changed in the way that every young woman's body does: the baby fat slimmed away to leanness, her hips widened, waist narrowed and breasts developed. Then there was the dramatic arrival of the blood, which kindly waited untill she was playing with H.W. in the seclusion of the hills to inconveniently humiliate her. An excruciating cramp, a dizzying vertigo and a gush of blood accompanied the feeling of debasement, sending a terrified H.W. racing for help. Daniel, Fletcher and George all answered his hectic, silent plea, each panicked and armed against an expected mountain lion or some other starving predator. Instead they discovered her standing distraught with the evidence of womanhood running in rivulets down her leg, staining through her dress. The men relaxed, relieved by their familiarity of the event. Confused and nauseous, Mary grew light-headed and collapsed in a faint. Had Daniel not been quick to respond, she would have hit the ground rather than tumble into his arms. Ever the white knight for her, he carried her limp figure to the Sunday ranch where she awakened moments after, finding mother and Ruth hovering above her. Cleaned up and feeling better, she sipped hot tea with the other Sunday women who explained nature's course with her in a long, uncomfortable talk. Later she learnt that her outrageous predicament earned H.W. a similar discussion with Daniel. Nothing was more embarrassing for the young woman and facing the men again was an excruciating difficulty.
Trapped awkwardly between child and woman, she quickly attracted the eye of almost every roughneck in the fields. Although he never mocked her physical appearance and kept his gentleman composure, H.W. teased her about their attentions but she retaliated with notice that his body was altering just as much as hers was. So, too, did their jocund pastimes change as they abandoned hide-and-seek to hold hands during long leisurely walks.
On Ruth and Matthew's wedding day, an invited Daniel chose not to attend but purchased a dress for Mary that scandalously rivalled the wedding gown with its beauty and accentuation of her new curves. Other attendees grumbled under their breath that she was a puppet for Daniel who meant for his pet to steal attention from the bride to whom all eyes rightfully belonged. Hearing this added guilt to her conscience; she felt pretty until then and her personal intentions for agreeing to wear the gown were purely to lift her self-esteem. She supposed in essence they were right in that Daniel wanted to debut something else, however little she realised it at the time. H.W., insisting that George take the day off since Mary could interpret for him, went as her date and Eli did not closet his disgust. His hope was that change of life would wise his sister up to homegrown choices in men and rend her apart from her childhood friend rather than bonding her tighter with him. Nor could he conceal his disapproval when mother commented that there would be a second wedding at the rate the youngsters were going.
Not wanting to spoil Ruth's day, Mary and H.W. respectfully sustained their quietness, inflaming Eli who wanted to provoke their tempers to camouflage his own. With an exaggerated flourish of showmanship that Eli had nothing on, H.W. presented Ruth with an envelope containing a card signed by Daniel on behalf of the Plainview family, taking the liberty to finish in a scrawling Best of Wishes, Daniel, H.W. and Mary Plainview. Ruth and mother treated his brash forwardness lightly but Eli steamed and not entirely due to the baking California heat. As if the iniquitous signature epithet on the card wasn't enough, the preacher was incensed to the point of turning purple when H.W. handed Matthew a key, unveiling the real Plainview wedding gift to be a new automobile. Unexpected even by Mary, the meaning of the key could hardly be conveyed to the newlyweds because of her own shock. It became clear when she saw Eli's tacit indignation, but to tell it would ruin the day's blithesome spirit.
She knew both Daniel and Eli better than anyone else present. One was as calculating and methodical as the other, each wrestling for the upper hand, trying to take for himself. With the capital spoils of land and people unjustly divided between them, the rivals had to discover other ways to antagonise each other. It disappointed her that the seemingly kind gesture of the gift-giving concealed an uncharitable motive, likely originating from many years ago when Eli coveted Daniel's automobile when he took him to the train station where it was parked. She remembered well how often Eli talked about the vehicle.
Petty jealousies were trivial to Mary, however. To her there were greater concerns. The downside of Ruth's marriage struck the youngest Sunday at the evening reception amid the celebratory prothalamions vibrating the hills with song when the realisation dawned upon her that her sister would not be returning to the ranch. Where would the newlyweds go and how far away? When would she see her sister again? Ruth would embark on a new life with Matthew, carried off by the wondrous horseless carriage Daniel supplied. A knight in shining armour had stepped out of a storybook and planned to whisk Ruth away, like Mary had always hoped and imagined that Daniel would do for her.
Matthew was a good man, there was no question about it to everyone else, but Mary's experience proved to her that little was as it appeared on the surface. Was Matthew a good man to the bone and core or was he deceptive as father surely had been when courting mother: sweet as liquorice in public and a malevolent beast behind closed doors? Ruth never indicated the latter but mother had always been a good liar, truckling the girls way through father's abuse and Mary wondered if her sister was as keen as she was in identifying violation or if she accepted it as normalcy. That was the greatest obstacle to happiness for women raised at the centre of domestic violence. Matthew may try to present himself as Ruth's white knight in public but Mary wondered what lay beneath the good guy exterior and refuted the notion that he could ever truly be one. The only hero a woman could ever truly have other than herself is her father. Everyone else was secondary. Guilt for spending most of her time with the Plainviews and missing out on discussing these issues with Ruth was a corrosive acid eating away at her conscience.
Inventory of these regrets dampened her mood and, seeing this, H.W. escorted her to a private location where they mapped out their own futures. Mary was ecstatic that she was included in what H.W. saw for himself. It was true: her childhood companion was emerging as something beyond friendship, definitive when he drew her near and pressed his lips tenderly to hers. In a surge of embarrassment, she withdrew from him, her scarlet face contrasting with her straw coloured hair. Disappointed, H.W. dropped his gaze and kicked at a tree stump. Taught tenacity and quick action if there was anything she wanted, Mary seized the moment with the shrewdness from her business lessons with Daniel and the desire from her heart, tapped him on the shoulder to win his attention, then returned the kiss when he faced her. From then on Mary and H.W. were inseparable, apart only during her regular daily walk with Daniel.
But Daniel was a whole separate issue and took a different approach to her plunge into adulthood. While her body blossomed into full fledged womanhood, her new feminine allure was the topic for the roughnecks who were fired on the spot by the oil tycoon if any disparaging remarks about her sexuality reached his ears. This occurred only twice, thankfully, and to the pair of boldest offenders since Mary had established respect from the men beforehand by way of her thorough business acumen and proficiency. Pragmatic and their match in intelligence, which was applied in conversations with them, she was their darling, etching out of herself the image of a woman they admired and wanted for themselves. Many eligible bachelors among them courted her as she aged but their tokens and sweet nothings were brushed off with unwanted news that she was already spoken for. Of course despite their attempts to woo her away from the younger Plainview, they did not need to be told twice and respectfully obeyed her wishes. They fittingly heralded H.W. as the luckiest man in the world.
At least that was the voiced opinion. Oftentimes she wondered if they didn't suspect another story: to which Plainview did she truly belong? Any suspicion they may have had was cloaked with interjections that it was H.W. but the unwritten story was altogether dissimilar. Some were convinced that she was trying to raise trouble with Eli and indirectly get even with Abel for the hell they had put her through. Mistrust surfaced the antique superstition that it was unlucky to have a woman around working men, although they were carefull not to directly say it for fear of their boss's sentencing. Thus was borne a merger of reverence and fear of her, despite that they loved her too. Others believed that Daniel was hiding lust for the teenage girl under the guise of a make-believe romance with his more age-appropriate son. Their speculation bothered her not one bit. Her newfound unchristian interest in her beloved father figure was blatant and perhaps she titillated the silent gossip passed among the roughnecks only by sharp eyes just a little with the way her playfull gestures toward the elder Plainview were laden with coquettish hints. Did those kinesics of blushes, light touches and sideways glances tell on her?
Busy with the expanding work in the church afforded to him by his new career in radio, Eli continued his own pertinacious glares at his sister, whether she was in the company of a Plainview or not. She supposed he found her a distraction, an object there for no other purpose than to remind the men of their denied feral nature. In his fanatical opinion, she was a sin waiting to happen, if she hadn't been already, and so malicious were his judgments that Mary was gratefull to be rid of him when he left on a mission.
Other eyes also began to look at her in new ways. Daniel stared often with a softer longing quite different from the one reflecting his wish for her to be his own child. It was a love indisputably divided from father and daughter and widened into one of desire. So the men aren't entirely mistaken, she thought. The young woman was ecstatic of this unprecedented awakening because her love for Daniel intensified rather than diminished even as she delved into romantic involvement with his son.
Part of the reason behind the controversy was their continued private evening walks, Daniel citing them his only relaxation method. Their privacy was honoured by H.W. who remained behind to tend the finances with Fletcher, George his constant and necessary companion. Soon Mary felt free enough to interlace her fingers with Daniel's in the manner of a lover, a gesture he hesitated and refrained from reciprocating willingly for several days, doing his damnedest to ignore it every time. Then one evening his strong but slackened grip tightened around hers and his calloused thumb stroked the back of her hand. For Mary, the gesture was momentous, a sign of things to come.
When the calendar marked her sweet sixteenth, Mary asked for a small gathering comprised of the members from both the Plainview and Sunday families, including George and, of course, Fletcher at the cottage. An invitation was extended to Eli who was in Los Angeles to record an interview, but it was declined because the interview was to take place on that day but he hoped she understood and sent his wish for her to have a happy day. In truth, Mary was glad of his absence. At least then she'd be able to digest her food, which was a good thing. Mother baked her favourite yellow cake with fudge icing and the day was topped off when Ruth and Matthew made a trip to Little Boston to spend the day with her.
But the day's surprises were far from over. Mary was watching mother ice the cake when she noticed the peculiar way Ruth watched her. Her glittering gaze was excited for something beyond a milestone birthday, the younger sister perceived, and it was another thing that incited her anxiety. She wasn't at all surprised when, in a blur, Ruth rose from her chair, grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out the door, telling mother that they'd be back.
Outside, Ruth burst into a breakneck run passed the confused men lounging on the porch, dragging her little sister behind her. But they kept running despite Mary's gleefull protest. It was as if they were escaping back into a page of happier childhood, one that had always previously eluded them. Then suddenly the elder girl halted and threw her arms around Mary with terrible, indeterminate merriment.
"What's gotten into you?" Mary questioned, still laughing.
"Happy birthday, my sister!" Ruth exclaimed, her soul in a sentimental outpour through words and eyes. "I have news I wanted to share with you first as a birthday gift." Leaning close to her ear, she clarified: "You're going to be an aunt! I'm with child!"
No words could express how Mary felt about the news and she couldn't speak.
"Well?" Ruth impatiently prodded. "Say something!"
"Oh my!" The stunned silence was broken then stopped just shy of blasphemy. "Ruth!" Throwing her arms around her sister, she asked, "Does Matthew know?"
"Not yet! I wanted to give you the best gift possible and thought…"
"Oh, Ruth! It's the greatest gift ever! Oh my…congratulations!"
"I'm telling everyone else during dinner."
"I-I still don't know quite what to say!"
"Say you'll babysit often!"
"Yes, yes!" Of course! I can't wait! Nor can I contain myself! I'm afraid I'll mistakenly tattle to everyone before you can out of my euphoria!"
"Don't you dare! You've already stolen my thunder once."
"I did not! When do I commit such a crime?"
"On my wedding day with your dress, you little harlot!"
Ruth gave her a spirited nudge free of harshness. Then an awkward quiet subsided between them as Mary searched for words delicate enough to ask Ruth what she wanted.
"Did it hurt?" she blurted out, giving up subtly.
"I suppose childbirth wi—"
"Not childbirth." The older sister was puzzled. "You know." Ruth's face did not change as if she was again a naïve child rather than a pregnant married woman. Mary lowered her voice to a modest whisper: "Sex."
Relief cascaded over Ruth and Mary wondered what she'd had in mind as a substitute for the real answer. Now her silence disconcerted the inquisitive girl.
"Well?" coaxed Mary. "Does sex hurt?"
"I don't know if I should tell you that, Mary," Ruth retorted, the blush of a rose highlighting her cheeks.
"You're my sister. You're supposed to tell me everything."
"But that stuff is private!"
"Then what good are you as a sister? What a gyp!"
Afraid that the tension proved Ruth misunderstood that she was actually joking, she gave her a supportive smile then dropped her stare in shame of prying into her big sister's intimate affairs.
"It hurt," the experienced girl finally confided. "At first."
Mary flinched at the thought. "How much?"
"A lot. And you bleed."
"What did it feel like?"
"Like…like I was being torn asunder, like being turned inside out, stretched too wide. Matthew is…well endowed. I suppose he is, any way, since I have nothing to compare him with. It was an odd sensation when he was completely inside me, like I was filled to an impossible capacity."
Mary's horror was undisguised. "Sounds horrible! Why did you keep going then?"
"Because I love Matthew and it was my responsibility as a wife to please him."
"I thought it's supposed to be equal responsibility, that he was supposed to please you too, not hurt you."
"Daniel's spoiled you rotten with thoughts of equality, hasn't he? Truth is, nothing is ever equal between a man and a woman." Her thoughts tapered off momentarily then picked up again: "After a few days and a few more times my body got used to his. Then it wasn't so bad. And eventually it began to feel the opposite way. It became clear why father and Eli condemn it. I became addicted for a few months; it was all I thought about and wanted to do. I neglected everything else just to have him. We were like savage animals, uncontrollable and insatiable."
The story of her sister's deflowering captivated the untouched girl who felt the flame of arousal lick at her own loins. She longed to be defiled like that by Daniel, pain or blood and be damned. At least as an older man with a child he had the experience that the bullish virgin Matthew didn't.
"Did you bleed again?" was all she could muster after gulping.
"A little more the second time but not again after." Turning the tables abruptly, she slyly redirected the line of questioning to her sibling. "Haven't you done anything with H.W. yet?"
The query took Mary aback.
"No!" she warded off the assumption. "I'm waiting, like you did."
"I only asked because you're living with him. I thought maybe…"
"No. No, you're mistaken. Truth is, I'm more than a little terrified at letting any man do that to me. Males have so long been the thorn in the Sunday women's side that I've grown to associate a penis with penalty; the likeness of the two words disturb me."
"But they haven't all been bad to you, Mary. Have a little faith. H.W. loves you. That can't be more obvious. Not to mention Daniel and his men respect you and treat you fairly. Put a big head on your shoulders with all that equality talk. Besides, you know H.W. would never intentionally hurt you and I guarantee he'd be a gentle, accommodating lover when the time comes."
At this point, Mary was only half listening, her mind brimming with positively filthy and most unchristian thoughts of being ravished by either father or son; at present, she was hopelessly aroused and indiscriminate.
"Let's return to the party before they think something's wrong," Ruth suggested, breaking her out of the bawdy daze.
All Mary was able to do was nod agreement then follow her sister back to the cottage.
Dinner was preempted by the announcement as Ruth had originally promised, Mary's fear of spilling the secret beforehand squashed by the predominant new interest in sex. The room around her erupted with congratulatory good tidings, Matthew embracing his wife fiercely, his hand never straying from hers throughout the rest of the day except when he placed it at her still concave tummy. The already special day turned into one of unforgettable celebration, amplified in twofold. Even Daniel enjoyed the party, sitting majestically in the corner apart from everyone, washing down a cake slice with shots of whiskey from his flask.
Through the day Mary did her best to hide her new knowledge and enraged obsession. Her eyes often strayed to Daniel but guilt brought them back to her boyfriend. Self-conscious of her lusty stares, she wondered if everyone present noticed that which she could not completely control. Veering her eyes off the oil man when she was conscious of her wrong, she remembered how Ruth told her that once it awakened she could not control the yearning. As if she'd de-evolved back into an animal, Mary considered. Why should it be controlled when it wasn't meant to be? Weren't humans nothing but animals by nature and sex made them surrender to their true and natural selves? In her experience, suppression never wrought anything good. Did she have the right to oppress what was natural to her? By principal it was her love for H.W. that kept the selfish beast caged but the bars of its cage did not prevent her eyes from still straying. She closed them tight, hoping that when they opened again she would be better composed. But she wasn't.
Instead she found the party still in full swing. As mother danced with H.W. to the music playing on the phonograph Matthew brought, Mary stole the chance to sit beside Daniel. Trading smiles with him, she discreetly slid closer untill their legs touched. With a glance of endearment, she was shocked to find his eyes already locked on her and they smiled at each other again. Perhaps she wasn't the only one fighting instinct. Once more applying the strategic boldness he taught her, she placed an intrepid hand on his knee and, when he did not protest, she inched higher upon his thigh.
"Are you having a good time?" he asked, his voice dripping with the sentimental effects of the large quantity of whiskey.
"For the first time in a long time," she retorted.
"Good. That makes me happy. I have a gift for you. I'll give it to you during our walk later."
"Then let's go now."
His bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.
"You want to leave your party so soon?"
"They won't miss us. They're busy having their own fun. Besides, I can't wait to see what you have for me. Come on, they'll know we're off together if they notice."
Standing, she grabbed his hand and tried to yank him up. Amused that she couldn't budge his thin but heavy frame, he indulged her request by rising to his feet.
"Hold on, Mary!" he chuckled. "You lead the way. I'll follow. Take me where you want me to go."
She escorted him through the rugged grasslands, patient with his strenuous gait, and all the way to the beach down where the tide broke ashore. Thinking the cold water would quell her hot passions, she removed her shoes, rushed to the water with a volley of girlish laughter, and allowed the waves to envelope her feet, cooling them from the searing sand. His pleasure derived from observing her jubilant gambol and when she returned to his side he let her throw her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.
"Happy birthday, my sweet Mary," he professed with sincere tenderness.
"Thanks. There's nobody else I'd rather spend it with than you."
"Not even H.W.?"
"H.W. has his merits but you will always possess my heart."
"Yes, well, that's a wonderfull introduction to my gift."
Her smile brightened and eyes twinkled as she sighed, "Yes! What is it? I can't wait to see it!"
"Before I became an oil man I mined for silver. Since you admittedly are the keeper of my heart, I thought this would be an appropriate symbol of our relationship."
He presented a small box from his breast pocket to her.
"What is it?" she asked spiritedly.
"Open it and find out."
Popping the lid off, she was reduced to tears when she saw the solid silver heart-shaped pendant inside. Holding it up by its chain, she gasped in admiration as it gleamed in the March sun.
"Turn it over," he told her.
On the back read the inscription Always, Daniel. The lump that dammed speech in her throat burst, freeing the tears she'd been determined to suppress as she wrapped her arms around his neck a second time.
"Daniel! It's breath taking!" she cried. "I love it so much! More than anything! But you shouldn't have; it's far too expensive…"
"Price is irrelevant," he insisted. "You're worth far more than it is and deserve to look like a queen."
"I'll wear it every day! Thank you so much!"
"You're very welcome."
Parting from their embrace, she dabbed her tears away. The couple quietly stood, watching each other with understated mutual love, the antagonised beast inside her briefly forgotten by the sweet innocence of the gift. Here alone they were unbound, able to express what they could not around others. It was not done with words or touch but from the heart: unspoken, fathomless and genuine. She tried without success to affix the chain around her neck untill he assisted her. His calloused fingers worked magic on her body with their contact against the nape of her neck and she relished the sensation by closing her eyes untill he withdrew. The beast was agitated again.
"You've grown into a beautifull young woman," he proclaimed with fatherly approval but hinted of untold possibility. "I see how the men stare at you. I'll have to enlist H.W. as your bodyguard."
You see how they look at me but you don't see how I look at you! she thought disparagingly.
"I never feel threatened around the field. The men would never harm me. Besides, I'm always with H.W. or with you. And you're still my angel."
Beaming with devotion, she stroked the rough jaw line she had admired over the years. Affection of this type being a rarity for him, she expected rejection with complaint yet received the opposite. Unhesitant for the close proximity, he luxuriated in it instead, settling his strong hands on her hips to keep her near. With her touch against his flesh he shut his eyes; she understood he enjoyed the contact regardless of his paternal inclinations toward her. His hold tightened on her hips, bringing another more nervous, lenitive smile across her lips. Her breath hitched when he drew her closer still but she wasn't sure if he was conscious of his doing so. This was the definitive moment she had waited most of her life for. Out here in the hinterland between the beach and the town, they were away from the world's prying judgment and the inherent, uncompromising beast had elicit permission to prowl unbridled. Who other than she and her victim would ever know? Now or never, Mary! New at seduction, a moment of brief indecision clouded her mind before, in a blazon intimate manoeuvre, she leant up and earnestly pressed her lips against his.
In response, his body stiffened and his fingers dug into her hips, bearing a pain she considered sweet. Inspired, she tilted in more despite his tough grip on her untill she was crushed entirely against him. He neither rejected nor recompensed so she kept her lips firmly against his for a prolonged moment before separating from him. She waited for his remarks, anticipated the release of the animal she knew was in him to ravage her in a desperate bid of desire, but he was nonplussed and frozen. Anxiety mounting, she sensed her own personal beast twisting restlessly, ready to spring should he give the slightest indication of weakening to his libidinous wants. She willed him to speak as he struggled for the appropriate words to say. The extended, strained pause ended with his hands delicately trailing from her hips and along her sides but when they reached her chest, he drew back in remarkable self-control then took her hands into his, squeezing gently, igniting her body with passion long simmered along the way.
"We won't mention this to H.W., will we?" he at last spoke.
Her disappointed heart fell to the bottom of her chest. Dumbfounded by a response that was not at all what she expected, she nodded, muttering defeated agreement under her breath. Hurt by the rejection, she surmised that her line crossing may have done irrevocable damage to her most precious relationship. It was better to have him in the way he was hers before than to not have him at all. She should've never taken the risk.
From then on her torrid adolescent passions were more an insurgent monster than a beast, a desire gnawing on the bones of memory of that moment. Often her thoughts regarding the Plainview males strayed in aberrant ways, having recurrent fabrication about having father and son both at once. Every day a war raged within her to stay pure and to refute the monster that turned its lewd attentions toward the weaker prey that H.W. represented. She was both lion and lion tamer fighting against herself. Over the course of her lifetime she'd been told hellfire awaited her if she weakened to the flesh but now she was willing to risk it for a taste of the bitter whiskey flavour of Daniel Plainview's lips. But her favourite fantasy of receiving pleasure from the two men made her body throb with a desperate ache and, in need of relief, she explored her excited flesh, muffling ecstatic whimpers with the bed clothes clenched tightly between her teeth. Always she surveyed the room to check if any of the men were disturbed by the puled sounds but luckily they never appeared to be.
The mansion was completed that winter prior to the New Year, an immense acquittal for the young woman who was ecstatic to be promised her own room there. Privacy was a rare commodity for someone who never had her own space and her newly awakened urges rendered it the invaluable lotusland she'd always wanted.
The night before their leave of the cottage, Mary stepped around the back for firewood and unintentionally happened upon Daniel washing in the makeshift shower stall. Built after the Plainviews initially moved in, never before had she erroneously caught anyone using the stall and it had to be him and at this particular time in her life when she did. He missed her as she ducked back around the corner because he was pouring the warm water over his face, making it safe for her to spy. The wooden walls of the shower blocked her view of anything more than his chest and higher or his knees and lower but her rampant imagination filled in what the rest of him was like. When he finished, he reached for a towel hanging over the top of the stall and she exiled herself in a flurry of one part guilt for invading his privacy and one part victory for finally bearing witness to what she'd never before seen but always wanted to.
Commemoration for the mansion's finish began in the crepuscular dusk of evening with immoderate libation and lively discussion out on the cottage porch. H.W. secured Mary on his lap in the rocking chair, not partaking in the festive potation that Daniel, Fletcher and even George submerged themselves in. He affectionately nuzzled her neck, his gentle breath across her throat, but she was busy deconstructing all conventionality of their relationship with her lust for his father. As it turned out, her concern for losing Daniel in any way after the kiss was inconsequential. Her father figure remained her father figure, stayed her teacher and pretended it never happened. Normalcy may have been her detriment, however, as Mary questioned her capability as a woman. H.W. distracted her brooding by gently brushing his lips over the pulse in her neck and a fraction of confidence returned. Bedtime and sore eyes mercifully interrupted her darkening mood so she kissed H.W. lovingly on the lips, announcing that she was going to bed. Being the darling of this household, she administered a kiss to the cheek of each of the other men, lingering a bit longer when giving one to Daniel, pleasuring in the freshness of his skin and hoping he could smell the faint trace of perfume on hers.
Only a half an hour later, H.W. excused himself for bed, perhaps feeling isolated with a drunken George in her absence. With the only other sober member of the sanguine party gone, the young man was weary of the company of drunks. After watching its daily effects on Daniel, he shunned his parent's addiction to raising liquor to his lips no matter the occasion. He loved his father but as he aged he was more conscientious of and critical toward Daniel's ingrained badness, seeing with adult eyes what a child was blind to. Still too nubile to confront his father about those wrongs, H.W. resorted to confiding in Mary all of his cresting concerns. Whether or not her beloved boyfriend was perceptive of her attraction to his father she did not know but once in a while Daniel voiced underhanded wisecracks that highlighted her burning fascination, which were either lost in George's translation or fell on H.W.'s deaf ears. Possible father-son competition for her prized affection got Mary's yearning blood hot when she heard Daniel call after his son: "Keep her pure, H.W., or I'll castrate you!"
The caveat inspired a sexually charged dream that night about the two males locked in a familiar primal dispute for the right to have her as a mate. Wits, stamina and strength were contested untill the wiser, still stronger, older dominate male secured the position as winner. He claimed her like a feral animal in a savage consummation, establishing his ownership of her. Yet after he finished and fell asleep, her sympathies obliged her to seek the younger male and tend to his needs with a gentle hand that ended with her beneath him in equably ecstatic passion.
Agitated, she awakened with a moan and touched herself for relief. Muscles taut, her lip was bitten to stifle a second moan as her body writhed and spasmed with the sweetest respite, the scorching recollection of Daniel wet and rinsing off in the washing stall clear as crystal in her mind. Fear that the house was roused by her cries forced her gaze to sweep the room, finding H.W. and George fast asleep in their beds. But when her eyes found Daniel's supine form across the floor she swore he had been watching her intimate display of self-love but feigned sleep when her eyes rested on him. Flipping onto her side so that she faced the wall, she smiled at the unintentional entertainment.