In the Woods When First We Met

181. Exhibit A

Harmon and his wife were talking hurriedly in hushed tones, while Jane hovered on the landing, trying to listen in. She couldn't hear what her parents were saying, in part because Prissy was in her bedroom behind her, crying.

"Prissy," she whispered through the door. "Let me in."

"No," Prissy cried.

Jane felt like crying herself.

She didn't know what to do. The Cuthberts being here gave her a bout of courage, but she was emptied of that courage and now stood at the top of the stairs afraid to go back down.

Finally she wandered back into her bedroom. Sighing, she plopped down onto the chair at her desk, staring out at the road. The Cuthberts buggy grew smaller and smaller as they drove away. She wished she could go with the Cuthberts and see Anne. But she thought they must all be terribly angry with her for knowing what her brother had done all this time and not saying anything about it until now.

As she stared down at the road, she saw movement in the trees. Once the buggy was far off, her brother came out of the trees and headed for the back of the house. He was walking funny, sort of bent over like he was in pain.

Jane hesitated, then quietly left her room and crept down the back steps.

She met Billy at the back door.

He was surprised- and angry- to see her. He pushed past her and went into the kitchen.

"Billy," she whispered. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," he said, starting up the back steps to his room. Jane followed him.

"Mother and Father are fighting," Jane said as she followed him.

He ignored her. She followed him into his room. "What happened?" she asked him again.

He pulled his bloody shirt off but then stood holding it, not seeming to know what to do with it. Finally he rolled it up, the bloody side inward, and tucked it behind his school slate. He went to his pitcher, poured water into his washbasin, and then dipped his towel in. He began wiping the blood off his face, gently, since it was swelling by the minute.

Jane was still standing in the doorway.

"What are you still doing here?" he said, turning around when he noticed in his mirror that she was there.

She walked into his room, standing next to him. "What happened to you?"

Billy looked angry. "Stop asking me that. It's none of your business."

"I'll find out anyway," she said.

"Of course you will," he replied dryly. He had finished wiping away the blood from his face and was now looking more closely at his nose, which was already purple and swollen.

"Who hit you?" she asked.

"Take a wild guess," he snapped, going to his closet to find another shirt.

"Gilbert?" she asked, not knowing who else would have reason to hit her brother.

"The Patron Saint of Ugly Orphans, himself."

That made Jane angry. "Stop blaming Gilbert. You're the one who caused the problem. He's just trying to pick up the pieces, is all...what are you looking for?" she asked, seeing he was becoming aggravated as he rifled through his closet.

"Another white shirt," he told her, as if annoyed she existed.

"I saw one in the laundry downstairs," Jane told him.