Countdown Page 8

  Jean had lived a very sheltered life and, at seventeen, knew nothing about homosexuality. She just knew that her new roommate was one of the most fascinating girls she’d ever seen, and that she immediately liked her a lot. It would be a long time and many psychology classes later before Jean would be able to recognize what had been going on in her heart those first few months, maybe years, of her relationship with Paula. She had always been grateful that Paula had never noticed, or, more likely, since Paula had been quite worldly, had decided not to acknowledge it.

  But now Jean couldn’t take her eyes off the body of her friend. The small carcass left on the floor didn’t look like it could possibly be that of the Paula of old. Jean could feel the tears burning the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t let them out – not here, not now. Not in front of this horrible old woman and her crazy-stupid son!

  Next to her, Holly stood up. ‘Ma’am?’ she said, talking to the old woman.

  Eunice sighed. ‘What now?’

  ‘Can we get something to cover up the body?’ Holly asked. ‘Like a blanket from one of the bedrooms? And maybe something for the waiter and that stripper boy. You know, like a cold compress or something?’

  Eunice glanced down at the unconscious again stripper boy. ‘You order such a thing for your stupid party?’

  ‘No, ma’am,’ Holly answered. ‘It was a surprise party. I didn’t know anything about it.’

  ‘Humph,’ the old woman said. ‘Well, I just don’t truck with such things. A woman should only see the privates of her husband, not every Tom, Dick and Harry who wants to walk around dangling their dick! It’s just not proper!’ She sighed again and said, ‘Well, go ahead and get a blanket for the body.’ To her daughter, she said, ‘Marge, you go with her. I don’t know that there ain’t another door in the bedroom and she’s just sneaky enough to try to leave.’

  ‘Oh, no, ma’am!’ Holly said. ‘I’d never leave my friends—’

  ‘Just go!’ Eunice said.

  So Marge led Holly out the living room and into the bedroom of the suite. Jean watched them go. Covering Paula wasn’t going to change anything. She’d still be there – stiff and lifeless under a blanket, instead of in plain view. Holly was right, of course, Jean thought. It was the respectful thing to do, not only for Paula but for the other women in the room. The civilians surely didn’t need to have that constantly in sight.

  The good memories kept flooding in – Paula insisting that Jean go with her to a bar on Jean’s twenty-first birthday and paying to get her good and drunk. Jean had gotten her first kiss that night – from a boy who was almost as drunk as she was. And she’d liked it a lot. She never saw him again – but, since she couldn’t remember exactly what he looked like, she may have seen him and just not known it. Paula had said, ‘You can kiss a lot of boys and it’s OK. You just can’t sleep with all of them because then they’ll call you names.’

  Jean would never forget the look in Paula’s eyes when she’d said this, or the sound of her voice. It had been a sad sound, her eyes guarded and dark. But it wasn’t until medical school that another girl from their undergraduate days had managed to put Paula’s words in perspective. She’d walked up to Jean in the cafeteria – shortly after Paula had vacated the table – and asked, ‘Are you still hanging with that skank?’

  ‘What?’ Jean hadn’t been sure who she was talking about.

  ‘Paula the punching bag!’ Seeing the confused look on Jean’s face, the woman had sat down with her tray. ‘Oh, come on, McDonnell! Don’t tell me you don’t know about pushover Paula? She’s worked her way steadily through every fraternity house on campus – even the service fraternities!’ the girl had said with a laugh.

  ‘Paula’s my friend—’ Jean had started.

  ‘Some friend! Did she at least give you her leftovers?’ the girl had teased.

  Jean had stood up, balancing her crutches and her tray. ‘Maybe you should mind your own business!’ she had said with some heat, feeling her face burning and hoping she wasn’t blushing. She’d wanted to slap the woman but hadn’t had a hand free.

  Holly and Marge came back with a blanket and covered Paula’s body. Jean watched, wondering now, for the first time, what had gone on in Paula’s life prior to their first meeting that would cause such behavior. From her studies and her patients, she now knew that kind of acting out from a young woman was usually caused by some sort of sexual abuse. She wished she had talked to her friend about it way before her visit and tried to help her instead of pushing it out of her mind and never mentioning it.

  Jean could feel the tears starting to fall. In her husband’s vernacular, Jean admitted to herself that Paula now looked like she’d been ‘rode hard and put up wet.’ Not only that, she obviously had a serious drinking problem. Jean had failed her friend. There was no two ways about that.

  ‘What are we gonna do about Mike?’ I asked the room in general.

  There were some shrugs and a couple of ‘I don’t knows’, but that was about it.

  ‘Charlie?’ I asked.

  Charlie looked forlorn. ‘I don’t know what we can do,’ he said. ‘Any more than what we can do for the rest of them up there. Any word from Anthony? Are they talking?’

  I picked up the phone and dialed.

  Jasmine had managed to inform Nita Skitteridge that the ‘waiter’ on the floor was actually a city cop and the two stared at each other, wishing they could confer. Finally, Nita whispered to her cousin’s wife, ‘Maryanne, go trade places with Jasmine. Say it makes you nervous to sit with your back to them.’

  ‘No!’ Maryanne hissed back. ‘I’m not drawing any attention to myself. You know that the pregnant black chick is always the first to go in these kinds of things!’

  ‘You’re pregnant?’ Nita said, clasping Maryanne’s hand. ‘Wonderful! And an even better excuse to sit facing them. Tell ’em it makes you nauseous to have your back to them!’

  ‘No!’ Maryanne said, removing her hand from Nita’s.

  ‘Do you wanna get out of here? Then do it!’ Nita said.

  Maryanne sighed. She stood shakily to her feet. ‘Miz Blanton, ma’am,’ she said.

  Eunice whirled around. ‘Sit down! How many times I gotta tell you bitches!’

  ‘Ma’am, I’m early pregnant, and sitting with my back to y’all is making me kinda queasy. OK if I trade places with someone on the sofa?’

  Jasmine jumped up before the always helpful Holly could. ‘I’ve got no problem sitting with my back to y’all,’ Jasmine said.

  Eunice shook her head. ‘You bitches are more trouble than you’re worth!’ She sighed. ‘This sure ain’t getting my boy back! Go ahead. Switch places.’

  She turned away, not noticing that she had just allowed the two deputies to sit side by side. Eunice may not have noticed, but her daughter Marge did. And didn’t say a thing.

  Bobby Potter, Johnny Mac’s friend Matt’s father, looked from his wife and Jewel to what was left of the woods at the end of the cul-de-sac. ‘You don’t think …’ he started, but couldn’t complete his thought out loud.

  Laurie, Matt’s mother, said, ‘No! He knows he’s not allowed in those woods! He wouldn’t do that!’

  Jewel and Bobby looked at each other. ‘Oh, yeah he would,’ Bobby said.

  ‘I’m afraid he’s right,’ Jewel said, tears stinging her eyes. ‘I’m going in—’

  Her thought was interrupted by the sound of screeching tires. Jewel turned to look behind her, toward her own home, and saw her husband, Harmon Monk, jump out of his car, screaming, ‘Jewel Anne!’ at the top of his lungs.

  Jewel ran toward him. ‘Harmon! I’m here! I’m OK!’

  Harmon turned at the sound of her voice and ran to her, lifting her in his arms and squeezing her tight. ‘Oh, Jesus! I saw the house – I thought – oh, Jesus!’

  Jewel squirmed out of his arms. ‘Honey, Johnny Mac was here. He left the house a little before the storm broke and we can’t find him. He said he was going to Matt’s house, and Matt
said they were coming to our house—’

  Harmon shook his head, and he too looked toward what was left of the small forest at the end of the cul-de-sac. ‘You don’t think …’ he started.

  Jewel nodded her head. ‘Yeah, Bobby and I both think that. Laurie – well, Laurie lives in her own little Never Land.’

  They walked back to where Bobby, Laurie and their daughter Miranda were standing in their driveway. Bobby and Harmon shook hands. Harmon was about the same height as Bobby, but slender. If he’d been one to play sports in high school he’d have done long-distance running – but he hadn’t been a social type back then, and college had never been in his future. Bobby said, ‘You wanna go with me in there?’ He nodded toward the woods.

  ‘Nothin’ to it but to do it,’ Harmon said.

  ‘But, Daddy,’ Miranda, Matt’s sister said, ‘remember when we left earlier we saw Cody riding toward our house? Maybe Matt and Johnny Mac are with him?’

  Laurie jumped on that. ‘I’m sure that’s it! They went back to Cody’s house with him! Bobby, go check!’

  ‘Cody who?’ Harmon asked.

  ‘McIntosh,’ Bobby said. ‘Terry and Carolyn’s boy.’

  ‘The guy with the Porsche?’ Harmon asked.

  ‘Yeah, she’s a real beaut, huh?’

  ‘Bobby, try to stay focused!’ Laurie said.

  ‘Well, OK,’ Harmon said. ‘Let’s drive over to the McIntoshes house and find the boys.’

  SIX

  Jean heard moaning behind her and turned to see the pregnant girl bent over, clutching her stomach. The girl’s mother, Marge, also heard. Marge rushed to her daughter’s aid and Jean stood up, leaning heavily on her crutches. ‘Mrs Blanton,’ she said to the old lady, ‘I’m an MD. May I go to your granddaughter’s assistance?’

  Eunice, who was staring out the window, glanced only briefly at her granddaughter. ‘Whatever,’ she said and turned back to the window.

  Jean moved to the girl, Chandra Blanton, and asked, ‘Contractions?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, I think so,’ the girl said between deep breaths.

  ‘How far apart are they?’ Jean asked, pulling up a chair and feeling Chandra’s extended belly.

  ‘I dunno. Maybe like fifteen minutes?’ Chandra said.

  Jean looked up at the old lady. ‘Mrs Blanton, I need to examine your granddaughter. May I please take her into one of the bedrooms? She needs a little privacy.’

  Without turning away from the window, the old lady shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

  With Marge’s help, Chandra stood up and the three moved into the bedroom. Once inside, Chandra said, ‘Please shut the door.’ Jean did so, at which point the hunched-over girl straightened and said, ‘Sorry, but that was for Mee-maw’s benefit. I’m fine. But the daddy of my baby isn’t. He’s lying on the floor out there and for all I know he’s brain-dead!’

  Marge sighed. ‘I can’t believe you messed with a cop!’

  ‘Mama, just give it a rest. He’s a good man. Better than any Blanton I’ve ever met!’

  Marge grunted. ‘Honey, that ain’t saying much. You just be sure Mama don’t find out!’

  ‘She won’t if you keep your mouth shut!’ Chandra said.

  ‘Young lady, that’s no way to talk to your mama!’ Marge said.

  ‘Well, Mama, I gotta tell you, this whole thing is getting on my nerves! I never should have been brought into this, and you never should have gotten involved either!’ Chandra said, staring daggers at Marge.

  ‘Hell, girl, I didn’t know what she was doing! She handed me a gun and said “come on,” and I just came on,’ Marge said.

  Chandra shook her head and settled down on the edge of the bed. ‘See, Mama, that’s the problem! All you ever do is say “how high?” whenever Mee-maw says “jump,”’ Chandra said with disgust in her voice.

  ‘I hate to break into this meaningful mother-daughter exchange, but my friend has just been killed and your mother keeps threatening to take my life,’ Jean said, frowning at Marge. ‘So I’m not in a particularly good mood at the moment. If either of you know a way out of this, let’s just get it done!’

  Chandra brightened and turned to Jean. ‘That’s just it! I’ve got an idea! If I go into labor, Mee-maw’s gonna have to call for an ambulance, right?’

  Marge shook her head. ‘Not hardly,’ she said. ‘Your mee-maw delivered you and half the babies in Blantonville. She’s not about to call an ambulance.’

  ‘What if there was something wrong?’ Jean asked. ‘Like the baby was breech. Or the cord was around its—’

  ‘His,’ Chandra corrected.

  ‘OK,’ Jean said, ‘his neck. Surely she’d see the need for an ambulance then?’

  Marge was still shaking her head. ‘You done told her you’re a doctor. Between the two of y’all she’ll figure it’ll be taken care of.’

  ‘Mama, you don’t know that!’ Chandra said.

  ‘OK, just say I’m right and you two go through with this and pretend the baby’s coming right now and there’s something wrong going on in there. But Mama decides that this doctor here and herself can deliver him. And then nothing happens. No baby yet. What do you think she’s gonna do?’

  Chandra’s shoulders fell and Jean sank down on the bed next to her.

  ‘Well, now what?’ Chandra said. ‘She thinks you’re in here examining me because I’m in labor. What do we do now?’

  Jean stood and balanced herself on her crutches. ‘Braxton-Hicks,’ she said, and headed out the door.

  The phone on the table rang and I jumped to answer. ‘Hello?’ I said, sorta breathless, although the only thing I’d moved was my arm.

  ‘So where’s my boy?’ Eunice Blanton demanded.

  I moved my arm again to look at my watch. Fifteen minutes left of the new deadline. ‘I’m still working on it, ma’am,’ I said.

  ‘I’m getting well and damned tired of sitting up here while you’re sitting down there with your thumb up your behind! I want my boy and I want him now!’

  There was a commotion on the line and then I heard Holly’s voice. ‘Milt?’

  ‘Holly, you OK?’ I asked, realizing I shouldn’t have said her name out loud because Dalton grabbed the phone out of my hand.

  ‘Holly, baby, you OK?’ he demanded.

  I didn’t hear her reply, but told Dalton, ‘Ask her about Mike!’

  He asked, then turned to me and said, ‘Still unconscious.’

  ‘Shit,’ I said, while there were other expletives expressed throughout the room.

  Dalton handed the phone back to me. ‘It’s that old bat,’ he said.

  ‘Miz Blanton—’ I started.

  ‘Old bat? Is that what your boy called me? Maybe I should start with his pretty little girl first, huh, Sheriff? What you think? I can always shoot your wife second!’ And she hung up.

  So we all sat there for a full minute before anybody spoke. Since it was my mess, I thought I’d do the honors. ‘OK, so sending Mike up there didn’t work. Now the old bitch just has another hostage. Anybody got any more bright ideas?’

  The silence that followed that question was so loud it coulda busted an eardrum.

  Johnny Mac found a ball of string in Cody’s pocket. There were also three Skittles, thirty-four cents in various coins, a pocket knife and another flashlight. Johnny Mac figured he could use both flashlights now that it was getting dark. He took one of the Skittles – cherry, his favorite – and gave the other two to Cody. He figured he needed nourishment due to his injury.

  He lashed the branch with all the leaves to a medium-sized limb that he could use to pull the litter, then used more string to tie the flattest limb he could find to Cody’s injured leg. Once that was done, he got his hands in Cody’s armpits and began to pull. When Cody let out a bloodcurdling scream, Johnny Mac figured the Skittles had done their job – Cody was no longer in what Johnny Mac’s mother the doctor called shock. That was good for Cody, Johnny Mac supposed, but he was gonna have to listen to it the whole wa
y out of here. One good thing, though, was that maybe the screaming would help Matt find them.

  Johnny Mac continued to pull Cody to the litter. The dog disagreed with this move and nipped at Johnny Mac’s leg. Johnny Mac shook him off, so the oversized golden retriever/Shetland simply knocked Johnny Mac over. Luckily, he didn’t land on Cody.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Johnny Mac demanded of the dog.

  ‘Woof!’ the dog said, then ran away further into what was left of the woods, barking away.

  Johnny Mac looked down at Cody, whose eyes were bloodshot and leaking tears. ‘You OK?’ he asked.

  ‘No! It didn’t hurt so much before!’ Cody whined. ‘Why’s it hurting now?’

  ‘I think you were in shock. Then I gave you those Skittles and it brought you out of it,’ Johnny Mac explained, to the best of his knowledge.

  Cody sat up as best he could and stuck his finger down his throat.

  Johnny Mac shoved his hand away. ‘What’re you doing?’ he demanded.

  ‘Getting rid of those Skittles! I liked it better when I didn’t hurt!’ Cody shouted.

  Johnny Mac, still sitting on his butt on the debris left by the tornado, said, ‘I don’t think it works that way.’ He got up and moved to Cody’s upper body, leaning down to grab his armpits once again.

  ‘It’s gonna hurt!’ Cody said.

  ‘Yeah, you bet it is,’ Johnny Mac said, and began to haul the boy onto the litter.

  Ronnie Jacobs, the pizza guy, was dreaming. He dreamed about Lucinda, the girl he loved. He dreamed they were in his car, driving away from Prophesy County, heading for the west coast. Maybe LA, maybe ’Frisco. That would be cool. California was the coolest. He could learn to surf. Lucinda could become an actress-slash-model, like she wanted to. They’d make a bucketful of money and buy a house on the beach, and he could go surfing every day until he became a professional surfer, and then Lucinda would retire at the top of her actress-slash-model career and they’d move to Hawaii, where he’d make a ton of money winning every surfing competition there was.