|
Scars Chapter 7 I took Lynn home to pack her stuff and the kids stuff. She knew the number for Patty’s boyfriend, so I called him and told him it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take Patty on a long romantic trip until I got the situation here straightened out. Just in case. He sounded a little less like a chump than most of Patty’s guys; didn’t ask a lot of questions, didn’t hem and haw, didn’t say he was gonna have to think about it. Just said OK and thanked me for letting him know. “What did you think?” Lynn asked when she came down with Becky’s bags. I knew she was talking about Brian. “Sounds OK. What does Patty say?” “She told me he treats her like a princess.” “Yeah? Hell of a change from Lloyd-whatsisname. She gonna know what to do with a guy that treats her like a princess?” Lynn laughed. “I bet she can figure it out.” She put her arms around me. “I did.” OK, she was still high on kisses; she still had that glow. So I knew I shouldn’t take what she said too seriously……but it made me feel good anyway. Maybe I was still high on kisses, too. I try. You know? I’m not sure I know exactly what treating her like a princess means, but Lynn lets me know when I don’t get it right. As long as she doesn’t throw me out when I screw up, as long as she keeps saying stuff like that once in a while, then I’m gonna keep trying. Arbutus was packed and ready to go when we got back. Jones had gassed up Arbutus’s car for her, so the women wouldn’t have to stop anywhere for a while. The Doc was there, too, trying to get Arbutus to tell him where she was going. She was getting peeved with him. “You just stop pestering me, Lucius. Bud says we should keep it a secret, and I’m thinking he knows more about this kind a’ thing than you do. So you can just stop asking me.” “What in hell is going on here?” he said when he saw me. “I don’t know what you’ve got going this time, but why don’t you leave the women out of it for a change? It looks to me like you’ve got them in a panic for no good reason that I can see.” “Yeah?” Lynn was making her list at the kitchen table to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Arbutus was putting away the dishes and telling her things to put on the list, and of course, Lynn was saying she already had them down. Didn’t look much like panic to me, but I guess I’m not a doctor. “I don’t think a lunatic on the loose is nothing,” I said. “Specially not when she tried to grab Charles in broad daylight.” Arbutus must not a’ told him about that. He frowned. “What lunatic?” Arbutus must not a’ told him about anything. I guess it’s only been a couple of days……it seems like longer. “My lunatic.” He thought about that a minute. “You mean…..the one…..oh. She’s here?” I nodded. “Good God. And she’s looking for you.” That wasn’t a question. “I guess I understand, then. But, Bud…..if you leave, do you think she’ll follow?” “I’m staying. I’m just trying to get the women and kids outta the line of fire. She’ll stay, too. We got a date.” He turned pale. “Bud…..” He reached out and put his hand on my arm. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” The Doc operated on my leg before Becky was born. He rebroke it, and put some metal in it to keep it straight. He told me later that when I started waking up, I kept trying to get outta bed, and finally the nurses strapped me down. “A fairly common thing,” he’d said. “Still a little out of your head from the anesthesia---not quite thinking straight yet. You would have fallen on your ass if the girls hadn’t kept you from trying to stand.” When I really came to, he was sitting next to me. One a’ my hands wasn’t strapped to the bed rail; he had hold of it. My throat hurt. He told me later it was a good thing he was there to send the nurses outta the room, so they didn’t hear what I’d been saying. I didn’t have to ask him what that was. It was pretty hazy in my mind, pretty mixed up, but I sorta remembered what I’d been thinking about, or dreaming about, or remembering.….whatever you’d call it. Hallucinating, maybe. I expected him to ask me about it, but he never did. Good thing, ‘cause I couldn’ta answered. Some things are too tough to talk about. Can’t talk about ‘em, can’t write ‘em down…..you feel like it’d make ‘em more real. You know? Some things you just wanna forget about. But you can’t. Whatever he heard, whatever I said out loud, he kept to himself. So when I told him about our “date”, Arliss and me, I think maybe he understood better than anybody else what it meant to me. We had our differences from time to time…..but he was OK. I suppose, looking back, that it mighta seemed to Lynn, or Arbutus, or to anybody that knew something of what’d happened between Arliss and me, that I was more nervous than I really shoulda been. That I was blowing it up all outta proportion. OK, yeah, so she had a pair a’ scissors, and it kinda hurt, and there was some blood, but it probably didn’t sound like that terrible an experience. All Arbutus knew was what she heard from me or Lynn; all Lynn knew was what I’d written down while I was waiting to get outta the prison of snow in the mountains. So if that was all it amounted to---yeah, scissors, big deal. The thing is…….. . . ……..there was more to it than that. I couldn’t explain it to them. Some things you can’t talk about, can’t write down, can’t explain. It used to bother me that the Doc knew some of it. And I can’t tell you about it, either, even after all this time, even though I know you’d understand…….I just can’t talk about it. As long as they did what I told them to do, that was enough. As long as they were safe, they could think whatever they liked. “You got a better idea?” I asked the Doc. He thought about it for a minute or two, and then shook his head. “I’d feel better if somebody was going with them.” “You wanna go with ‘em? Go ahead.” “I would, but I can’t. I have responsibilities. Patients.” “Arbutus’ll be careful. She knows what Arliss looks like. And she’s a better shot than any man here.” “I wish to God you’d stop dragging her into your messes.” He looked like he thought I was gonna argue with him. “Yeah.” He flushed. “OK. I know. But I can’t help the way I feel.” “Yeah, I know.” He took a deep breath and let it out. Stuck his hands in his pockets and walked out onto the porch. Miss Robideaux was still sitting at the kitchen table. I hadn’t heard her say a thing; she was watching and listening, and I didn’t have any idea what she was thinking. What she wanted. Arbutus led Jones out to the old barn and let him have an earful before she left. We couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she kept poking him in the chest while she was talking. He started out shaking his head, but he was nodding before she was done with him, and finally he threw his hands up in the air and said “OK! OK!” good and loud. She seemed satisfied then, and came back to the car. Lynn and the kids were waiting there. Lucius gave Arbutus a squeeze, hard, before she got in the car. “Gracious,” she said when he let her go. “Don’t worry, we’re going to be fine. You and Bud…..,” she said, and shook her head, “I never saw such men for worrying in all my life.” He glanced at me, then said, “Just be careful,” to Arbutus. “Don’t worry,” she said again. Hugs and kisses all around, and then they were gone. Lucius offered to buy Jones a sandwich, and they left, too. Lynn was still kinda upset with me. Nothing I could do about it. She could give me a piece of her mind when she got back, if it’d make her feel better. If I was still alive. Miss Robideaux was standing at the screen door when I walked back up to the house. She stepped back out of the way when I came in, and followed me into the kitchen. “I can help you,” she said. “Yeah?” I got a cup out of the cupboard and poured myself the last of the coffee. “How’s that?” “I saw the sign on your chest. But I know there are more; I can feel them. If you’d let me look at them,” she motioned toward me, “I could interpret the signs for you.” “You could tell me what they mean, huh?” She nodded. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what they mean.” She didn’t need to know I’d already gotten the lecture from Arliss. I walked past her into the living room. Sat down on the couch and took a sip. The coffee was hot, but bitter from sitting in the coffeepot. “You curse quite often.” “Yeah, I guess so.” “Then it wasn’t something directed only at me, as a……as an insult…..” “No.” “You took the Lord’s name in vain during our conference. You shouldn’t do that.” I just looked at her. “You don’t like me very much,” she said. “I’m thinking I ain’t your best friend, either.” She turned away from me and looked out the window. I put the cup down on the sidetable, leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “I don’t have anything against you. You seem like a good teacher. Charles likes you. I’m sorry the way I look bothers you so much, but it’s OK. You and I don’t have to hold hands.” “It’s not that,” she said, but she didn’t turn around. I just waited. “It’s hard to explain. It’s just that you’re so……..” She stopped and tried again. “Everything about you is……..so…….intense. Everything. It hurts me to look at it. Sometimes.” “You lost me.” “It’s not that I find the scars on your face, or you, ugly.” She sighed. “You’ll think I’m odd.” She sighed again. “……sometimes I can see…….things…….” “What things?” “Oh…….how people feel……and spirits, sometimes……I don’t very often see what’s going to happen……….” Her hands fluttered in the air—she was nervous--until she clasped them tightly in front of her. “Your emotions are very……strong…….and then there’s the other……..but the point is, I can help you with this woman.” Right. Is there something about me that attracts fruitcakes? “OK,” I said, and stood up. “I gotta get going.” She turned to face me. “Just forget about all that,” she said. “Don’t you want to know what I can tell you about her?” “You think you can tell me something I don’t already know?” “You called her a lunatic, but she’s not.” “No?” “No. She’s evil. There’s a difference.” “Yeah. Look, I gotta get going. Thanks a lot for coming out.” “I know you don’t believe me, but I was raised with this kind of thing. I can read the symbols. And I know evil when I see it.” “Uh-huh. You wanna go outside so I can lock the door?” “And the other reason I’m here is because…” she stopped and took a deep breath, so I figured whatever was coming next was gonna be good, but it was worse than I expected. “…….because of your mother.” Women always seem to know what I’m thinking by looking at me. And not just ones that can “see” things. She looked in my face, without looking away this time, and swallowed hard. Blinked a few times. Backed up a step or two. “That’s enough,” I said. I turned her around and pushed her toward the door. “Get the fuck outta here.” “Mr. White!” She stumbled over the threshold. I pulled the door shut behind me and locked it. I figured I’d come back later and turn everything off. Not in the mood to do it now. “Listen, I know you think I’m crazy—“ Uh-huh. “—but your mother—“ I grabbed her arm and walked her to her car. “You leave my mother outta this.” “Wait! Your mother’s with you—she stands behind you—I see her—she’d put her arms around you if she could—“ I shoved her up against her old Nash. She looked scared. “You listen to me. I don’t wanna hear anymore from you about my mother. Understand? And I don’t wanna hear anything from Charles later about seeing things. Or evil. Or anything---except reading, writing, and arithmetic. Got it?” “But I want to help you!” “Why, for God’s sake?” “Yes.” Jesus fucking Christ. Just what I needed. A Bible-thumping whacko who sees dead people. “Unless you can tell me where she is, I don’t see how you can help me.” “Isn’t there anything else?” I took a deep breath. “OK. When’s the moon gonna be right?” “Day after tomorrow.” She was trembling. “You’re sure.” “Yes,” she said. And then she fainted. Dammit.
|