Page 100 of The Unmaking of June Farrow
“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” he continues. “Vengeance?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice is shaking now.
“I know who you are, June. I know my own flesh and blood when I see it.”
For a moment, I’m not sure if I can read the tone in his voice. But that look on his face doesn’t change. He knows. We’ve danced around it many times before, but he knows who I am.
“You are a seed planted by my own sin. An abomination. The both of you.”
I look to the trees up the slope. We’re closer to the flower farm than we are to home, and we’ve walked that shortcut through the fields countless times. Annie could find her way back to the house, I tell myself. She knows not to go down to the water without me. She’d stay on the path until she saw the lights of Esther’s porch.
“Annie, go back to the farm,” I say, trying to push her toward the trees.
But she doesn’t move.
“He sent Susanna to torment me,” Nathaniel continues. “The devil knew that I was weak.”
Again, I nudge her. “Go, baby.”
But she’s watching him, transfixed, a single blade of grass clutched in her little fist.
“I knew there was something evil about your mother the first time I saw her. In my pride, I thought I could overcome it.”
His feet come down the bank, half sliding toward me, and before I know what he’s doing, his hands are gripping my shoulders tight.
I gasp, my eyes going wide.
Fingers twist into the fabric of my white dress, and I stumble backward, trying to keep my balance. “Annie! Run!”
She finally does, her dress like a flame in the twilight. I see it disappear in the brush a second later.
“I loved her.” Nathaniel is crying now, his face contorted. He shakes me, hard. “I loved her more than I loved God. And that is the worst kind of sin.”
He shoves me back with so much force that I crash into the shallows behind me. Rocks scrape down my back, and the current pulls my weight, but I grasp for a hold on the bank. He’s on me a second later, yanking me back up.
“There’s no way to clean that stain.” The words twist. “I tried. I tried to clean it.”
A sharp pain lances the nape of my neck, and I realize he has my hair in his fist. “Please!” I sob. “Stop!”
Nathaniel’s eyes clear for only a moment before he goes still. His grip on me is like a vise as he looks down into my face.
“I took her down to the river and I held her under the water until she stopped screaming,” he whispers.
Another cry breaks inside of me. “Please.”
“And then I buried her under the oak tree.” He sniffs. “But God’s punishment isn’t over for me yet. It can’t be until I put it right.”
I claw at his hands, tear at his shirt.
“It’s all right,” he says, gently, looking into my eyes. “I baptize you, June Rutherford.” He plunges me down beneath the surface and the sunset disappears, replaced by rushing water. My feet slip out from under me, and then he pulls me up again. I scream, choking.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy—”
He shoves me back down, and I scratch at his arms, the outline of him a wavering black blot above me. I kick, but I can’t get my footing. I thrash, but his grip is too tight. His weight presses down on top of me harder. He pins me there, and over the roar of the water, I think I can hear him sobbing.
I understand now what is happening. I’m going to die.
Another scream is trapped in my chest and bubbles race from my mouth as I let go of him, hands desperately searching for something, anything to grab hold of. I find it when the pain in my lungs feels like it’s going to explode. The black pushes in around my vision, my legs going numb.