Fox Tracks

CHAPTER 17

The day’s hard hunting outside in the cold finally caught up with Sister. She leaned back in the kitchen chair to stretch out her legs.

Golly sprawled out on Lafayette’s equine gel pad, heard joints pop. “Getting old,” she said, reveling in the cozy spot.

Raleigh remarked, “You’re no spring chicken.”

“I’m no chicken.”

“A birdbrain, then?” Rooster laid his head on his paws.

“I’d have a battle of wits with you, but you’re unarmed.” Golly shifted on the gel pad.

“There’s an awful lot of noise in here,” Sister said to the three animals, then added, “and not much in the den.”

She rose, stretching her arms over her head before walking down the hall to the den. The dogs followed. Golly remained on the gel pad for it was comfortable, so comfortable that Sister, grumbling, let her have it. She’d buy another for Lafayette.

“Well?” Sister inquired of Tootie, who sat on the cushioned sofa, deep in thought.

“You know what he said? ‘You made your bed, you lie in it.’ Then he handed the phone to Mom. She recited all the reasons why it’s a bad idea, but she knew my mind was made up. It could have been worse.” Tootie looked from the fire to the deep darkness outside the window. “I’m not doing this to disappoint them. If I don’t follow my heart I’ll make a bigger mess later. Haven’t you ever noticed that the people who don’t do what they should—you know, don’t find the right work or follow their dreams—turn on themselves eventually or turn on everybody else?”

“Or both.” Sister sat next to her on the sofa. “You’re right, Tootie. It really could have been worse.”

“The first thing I’m going to do when I get back to Princeton is try to get Dad as much of his money back for this semester as possible.” A long pause followed. “That’s all he cares about.”

“Honey, that’s not true,” Sister said, taking the distraught Tootie’s hand. “Really. He loves you. He wants what’s best for you. He can’t see beyond what he believes is right. So everything comes out sounding like a financial transaction. You might say it’s your father’s metaphor for life.”

Turning her beautiful face to Sister, she said, “Well, he is right about one thing: I’m going to find out the value of money. Felicity sure has, but she has that kind of brain. You know she invested our kitty at Custis Hall? I don’t think like that, but I can pay bills. I can check my balance online. Like I said, I’ll learn.”

When Tootie, Val, and Felicity were students at Custis Hall, their senior year, each time one of the girls swore she had to put a dollar in the kitty. By graduation time, the sum neared one thousand dollars. Instead of having a party, the girls voted to let Felicity invest it. She had, and even in these hard times, she was making about fifteen percent on their investment.

“You’ll figure it all out,” said Sister. “In time, your father will see that you made the right decision.”

“I don’t know.” She paused. “Felicity should have been his daughter.”

“She’s had her own troubles with her parents,” Sister reminded Tootie.

“Getting pregnant before graduation—yeah, guess she did. The funny thing is, I think Mom and Dad would have handled that better than this. I’m in my freshman year, already Mom keeps talking about a suitable boy, graduation. I can’t think about that stuff.”

“I didn’t either until I met Ray. Once married I thought, well, an unmarried woman is incomplete. When she’s married, she’s finished.” She laughed.

Tootie laughed, too. “But you always knew what you wanted to do, didn’t you?”

“Not as clearly as you do. I loved geology, loved teaching, but when RayRay was born, I loved being a mother. Beyond that, I didn’t have much direction in life.”

“Hunting.”

Pondering this, Sister finally answered, “Now I see that hunting provided the framework of my life, but I wouldn’t say it gave me direction. I’m not complaining. It’s all worked out and it will work out for you, especially if you don’t make a big drama out of it.”

“Do you think I am?” Tootie worried.

“No. I think you’re remarkably self-possessed. I know you’re strong under pressure, I’ve seen you in the hunt field. And in New York, you handled finding a murdered man. But that’s not quite the same as something inside the family or with romance. A lot of people, young or old, blow everything out of proportion, making matters ten times worse.”

“No time to be dramatic,” Tootie said, nodding. “Val’s dramatic enough for both of us.” She laughed a little.

“Yes, well, if she wants that political career she keeps talking about, she’d better learn to squelch that. What time do you want to leave in the morning?”

“I don’t have a class until the late afternoon so I thought seven.”

“All right then. I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Sister, you don’t have to do that. You’re doing so much for me.”

“I have to eat, too. Oh, before I forget, the body found during the hunt has been identified. Carter Weems. A drifter from North Carolina who picked up odd jobs, mostly hauling.”

“I’m glad I didn’t see that.”

“Me, too,” Sister agreed. “It has to be murder. Human bodies don’t wind up under deer. No word from the authorities about how he was killed, or they aren’t saying. Actually, I think Ben would tell me.”

“Sometimes I think about dying,” Tootie said, then quickly reassured the older woman: “Not doing it to myself, don’t you worry. I’m just glad I don’t know when I’m going to die. Would you want to know?”

“Takes the fun out of it.”

“Death?” Tootie was incredulous.

“No, it takes the mystery out of life. It is possible to know too much,” stated Sister. “Most of it doesn’t matter anyway. I think of that line in Ecclesiastes, ‘all is vanity.’ Still, finding a body in my hunt territory makes me want to know who did it and why. Maybe I want to know too much.”

She did.