by Dave Daren
Nora trailed off, like she was trying to stop herself from getting worked up. She visibly swallowed and then wiped angrily at one cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Nora,” I said, and I meant it.
As I looked between her and Clara, I couldn’t help but feel my sense of anger toward Knox Chemicals deepen. I’d barely even dipped my toes into the problems the plant had caused, but I already felt ready to raze it to the ground.
Nora didn’t brush off my apology. Instead, she just sighed as if it had taken a lot of energy to even tell me her story.
“You really think you can do something about this?” she asked as her deep, brown eyes bored into mine.
“I can’t make any promises,” I admitted. “But, I’m going to try. Thank you for your time, I really appreciate it.”
She chewed at the inside of her cheek and took a small step back from the door to grab the handle. She looked like she wanted to say more, but then we heard a soft thud from the other side of the door.
“I’m sure Clara can give you my information, if you’ve got any more questions,” she said quickly. “I’ve got to go check on Alvin.”
She carefully opened the front door just wide enough to squeeze through, and then, she was gone.
I felt my shoulders sag as I turned to look at Clara with a shake of my head.
She looked at me like she knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Where to next?” I asked with a sigh.
I had a long day ahead of me still, and I knew it wasn’t going to get any easier. But I followed Clara as she moved on to the next house, and then the next house after that.
Clara and I visited four more houses before we had to put a pin in the conversations. Clara’s daughter was expected home by then, and Clara didn’t want to make the babysitter wait for her to return.
As I walked with her back to her house, I scanned my cluttered notes. Among the other four homes, there had been a miscarriage, another case of leukemia, and a skin condition. I hadn’t pinpointed any sort of correlation between the cases other than Piney Crest.
The thought made my stomach churn. I slid my notepad into my pocket and glanced down at Clara as she leaned up against the back of her car in her driveway and patted the bumper next to her.
“You said Emma’s babysitter is dropping her off?” I asked, just to make conversation as I moved to lean against the spot she’d indicated.
“Yeah, well, we call it ‘babysitting’ but, it’s sort of complicated,” she said as she nodded. “She’s too sick for public school right now, but I can’t stay home with her, even though I’d like to. A retired nurse I used to work with at Cook offered to homeschool her for me during the day. It was honestly a Godsend. I drop her off early in the morning before my shift, and she drops her off in the late afternoon once she’s sure I’m off.”
I couldn’t imagine being in that sort of situation. I’d heard of plenty of parents having to tailor their lives to their children’s illnesses, but I didn’t know of many who had to do it alone.
“It’s good you have someone to help like that,” I remarked as I dropped my hands onto the trunk of her car and watched the street.
A few children played in a neighbor’s yard and chased around a bright-pink ball.
I noticed Clara watching the children as well, with a soft, sad smile on her face. I looked away because it felt like I’d been intruding on some sort of private moment.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” Clara said. “For a while, I was able to keep Emma in school, but the leukemia just moved too fast. I’d toyed with the idea of sending her in a mask and having her kept away from the other kids but that just seemed... cruel. It’s bad enough she knows she’s different. I don’t want her to have to deal with the other kids knowing, too.”
She shook her head and dropped her eyes from the children across the street.
Before I could offer some sort of condolences, I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket. I shifted from my perch on the back of the car to pull it out.
A text from Brody flashed across my home screen. I’m five min away. Where are you?
“My co-counsel is almost here,” I said as I looked up. “Would it be alright if he parked in the driveway?”
Clara blinked as if she were taking a moment to return to the ordinary world.
“Oh, sure, that’s fine,” she said, and she almost sounded startled, like I’d broken her from deep thought. “I’d like to meet him, too, to thank him for agreeing to help. It’s the least I can do.”
I couldn’t help the small smile that quirked at the corners of my lips as I wondered if she’d be so quick if she knew Brody’s background, but, then again, Clara seemed like the forgiving type, so maybe it wouldn’t matter.
“I’m sure he’d like that,” I said before I quickly sent a reply to Brody with Clara’s address before clicking my screen off again.
As I shifted to slide my phone back into my pocket, an aging, maroon minivan pulled up to the curb at the mouth of the driveway.
Clara slid off of the back of her car with a wide smile splitting across her face, and I think it was the first time I’d seen that sort of smile in the few hours I’d spent with her.
The minivan came to a gentle stop, and while the engine still idled, the back door flew open and someone toppled out.
I jerked upright from where I leaned and nearly took a step forward, afraid that someone had fallen. But my posture loosened as I realized that no one was hurt.
A small girl I could only assume was Emma had just leapt out of the minivan with her little backpack dragging behind her, and Clara gave a surprised little laugh as she walked forward and took the pink backpack from her daughter.
“Whoa,” she teased. “Where’d that energy come from?”
She smiled down at her daughter before she poked her head into the open door of the minivan, as I watched, I couldn’t make out what she said, but it appeared she relieved her babysitter for the day, because when Clara straightened again, the minivan door slowly creaked shut.
Emma waved with the sort of exuberance only children seem to have as her babysitter drove away with a honk of her horn. She whirled back around to face her mother with a rush of words seemingly about to tumble from her mouth. But, when her eyes landed on me, she faltered.
Emma looked just like her mother, to the point I’d have believed that a father had never existed at all, and she’d just sprung fully formed from her skull like Athena from Zeus or something equally as insane. She blinked her wide, amber eyes up at me and pouted her lips in question.
The main difference between Emma and her mother, however, was her hair. While Clara had long, thick red hair, Emma had none.
I hadn’t even noticed until the pink beanie on her head slipped down. I don’t know why I was surprised because Clara had explained to me the severity of her leukemia, but something about it was shocking.
Emma seemed so full of energy, despite the sallowness of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes, and it felt like a luxury that I’d been able to see her as just another kid, even for a moment.
“This is Archer, sweetie,” Clara quickly explained as she dropped down to her daughter’s level. “He’s the nice man I told you about last night.”
Emma aimed a surprisingly dubious look at me. For a child, she seemed fairly discerning, and I wasn’t sure what to make of the look she gave me.
“Are you actually going to help us?” she asked.
I blinked in both surprise and a little sadness, too, that this child already seemed prepared for someone else to let her down.
“I’m going to do my best,” I finally said.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again, and I sighed as I reached back to check the message.
Brody had sent another text. Turning in, but I didn’t bother with a reply because I was sure he’d see us standing in the driveway.
Emma turned her focus to the phone in my hand. She quickly looked between her mother and me
before plastering a smile on her face.
“Can I play with your phone?” she asked me as she pulled her lower lip into a pout. “I wanna go take pictures of the butterflies by the house.”
I almost laughed, but I didn’t think I could bear to disappoint her and say no.
“Sure,” I agreed with an easy smile as I began to pass my phone down to Emma.
Clara made a small sound in the back of her throat as she quickly stood back up and reached out to touch gently at my wrist to still my hand.
“You don’t have to do that,” she murmured before looking back down at her daughter with what I could only call a ‘mom face’.
Emma feigned innocence, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer and let out a deep laugh as Emma grinned back at me.
“Really, it’s okay, I don’t mind,” I assured Clara as I passed my phone down to Emma and her eagerly awaiting hands.
The small tornado of energy gave an excited peal of laughter before scampering off toward the low bushes that sat in front of their house, and I watched her in amusement before looking back at Clara.
“What?” I asked with another chuckle since I couldn’t quite understand the look on her face.
She shook her head and pursed her lips to suppress a little smile.
“Nothing,” she said. “But just remember that I warned you when you realize she’s clogged up your camera roll.”
I held my hands up in surrender, but my focus pulled from Clara and the good-natured roll of her eyes as I heard the low rumble of Brody’s engine.
He eased his old car up next to us in the driveway and turned the engine off as Clara gave me a questioning look, but I shrugged and waited for my co-counsel to emerge.
Brody stepped out of the car, he secured his hat on his head, and I wondered if he brought that thing with him everywhere like it was part of some sort of uniform I wasn’t aware we should have.
Beside me, Clara shifted to face him as he slammed his door shut with a knock of his hip.
“I don’t know how you managed to drive the old bat from Fort Worth in one piece,” Brody boomed with a huff. “She held the damn door in a death grip the whole ride, like I’d risk doin’ damage to my car.”
He gave a firm shake of his head and another huff before his eyes drifted down to settle on Clara, and it was like a flip switched. A wide, easy, good ol’ boy sort of grin spread across his face.
“You must be Ms. Shepard, then,” he began and extended a thick hand toward Clara, and he didn’t wait for her to reciprocate the handshake before he continued. “I’m Brody Lucas, Archer’s co-counsel on your case.”
Clara shook his hand, and her eyebrows raised.
I figured it was because of the cowboy hat, though, I suppose it could have been the whole cowboy routine.
“Clara,” she greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. I wanted to thank you, for agreeing to help.”
She dropped her hand back down and slipped it into the pocket of her scrubs, and I could see the two scrutinizing each other.
“And that’s Emma.” She gestured with her free hand back toward the spot where Emma was crouched in front of the house with my phone.
The flash on my phone went off as she took a photo, and Clara sighed with a shake of her head.
“Archer filled me in on the situation,” Brody replied with a nod. “We really just need to get a full picture as to what’s been happening here in the neighborhood, which is why we’re out here now.”
Clara sighed and reached up to tighten her ponytail once again, and I wondered if that was a nervous tic.
“I went with him to a few houses to start getting some of that information, but there are still plenty more people to talk to,” she explained as she dropped her hands down to her sides again.
Brody rubbed his jaw and fixed me with a look.
I raised my eyebrows in question, but he didn’t seem to elaborate.
“Well, I think there’s actually a little more you could do for us,” Brody said in his slow, lilting drawl. It took me a moment to understand where he was aiming the conversation.
Clara cocked her head to the side as if urging him to continue, so Brody gave another nod.
“In class action suits, like what you want us to level against Knox, there has to be what we call the representative for the class,” he started to explain. “That’s one of the plaintiffs, that’s the person suing the company, that we use as the face of the lawsuit. And I think, Ms. Shepard, that it should be you.”
Clara looked like she might laugh until she realized that Brody was serious. She looked over at me, her lips parted and eyebrows raised, as if I might have something different to say about the situation. She looked back at Brody again when I remained silent.
“Me?” She asked. “Why me? I mean, I brought the case to Archer, but, I’m not... what did you call it?”
“Well,” I stepped into the conversation. “For something like this, we look for the most... sympathetic face we can find. The sort of person a judge and potentially a jury is going to sympathize with.”
“Yeah, okay,” she muttered as she looked between us.
“The sort of person that works herself to the bone at a children’s hospital to pay for her daughter’s leukemia treatment,” I added, a bit softer. I couldn’t think of a single judge that could look at Clara, look at her life, and think she was anything other than sympathetic.
Clara blinked as she seemed to process the information, and then she looked back at Emma and then back to Brody and I.
“What does that mean for me?” she asked meekly.
“It means that you may get a bit of attention and that your name is the name we’ll be using against Knox,” Brody replied as he adjusted his hat. “Everything that’s filed in the case will read Shepard v. Knox Chemicals. I can’t promise you’ll get media attention, but I can’t promise you won’t. Is that something you’re willing to take on, ma’am?”
Clara didn’t hesitate, and she’d stood up straighter as Brody had told her that her name would be the one featured on the court documents.
“Of course,” she agreed. “Whatever I can do, I’ll do it. But, I think Ken, who lives in fourteen-fifty-three, was planning on trying to talk to the local news. He wants to garner more support, and I’m just too busy to set something like that up.”
She gave us a questioning look as if she was searching for some sort of permission.
I looked at Brody and gave a shrug of one of my shoulders, and he returned the gesture with a tilt of his head.
“That’s just fine, ma’am,” Brody said. “Any help y’all can find is fantastic. It’ll help with any extra fees we might run across, too.”
Clara exhaled slowly as if she were trying to calm her nerves. She glanced over her shoulder at Emma, and I followed her gaze.
It had only been a few minutes, but Emma seemed to have deflated, just a little, like the energy she’d burnt taking pictures of the butterflies had taken a toll on her.
Clara looked back at the two of us with a hard set to her lips.
“That looks like my cue to get her inside and resting,” Clara announced. “Emma, sweetie, bring Archer back his phone!”
Emma perked up, only slightly, before walking back to us. She extended a thin arm out to me and placed my phone back in my palm.
It was easy to see how tired she’d grown in such a short time, and my heart ached for her.
“Thank you,” she chirped as my hand folded around the phone.
“No, thank you for all of the pictures, Emma,” I replied with a smile. “I can send them to your mom if you want?”
Emma gave a pleased little cry as I glanced toward her mother, and Clara smiled.
“That sounds great to me,” Clara assured me. “You two let me know if I can do anything else, alright? And feel free to stay parked here as long as you need. I don’t have too many guests.”
It took me a moment to realize it was a joke, but Brody broke into a deep laugh.
“That is much appreciated,” he drawled. “We shouldn’t be in your hair too much longer.”
“Uh-huh,” Clara chuckled.
“You get some rest now, ma’am,” Brody said as he tilted his hat down in goodbye. “You, too, missy.”
He gave another bow of his head toward Emma who giggled in response. Brody gave her a grin, and for a brief moment, I could see the girl she should have been.
We watched as Clara led Emma up to the house and then inside. For a brief moment, I could see the two of them framed in the doorway, and then windchimes knocked against each other as the front door swung closed.
I looked back at Brody, and he exhaled a thin whistle of air through his lips and lifted his hat off his head with one hand to ruffle his hair with the other.
“Poor woman,” he murmured and gave a shake of his head.
“You see why I needed your help?” I asked, but I wasn’t looking for an answer.
Brody gave another nod and squared his shoulders.
“Well, we better get to work, then, shouldn’t we?” he replied. “How many more houses are there left on that little list of yours, Landon?”
It took a few more hours before Brody and I had been able to cross the rest of the names off our list.
We stopped at the remaining nineteen houses Clara had marked for us as sick and had tried about fourteen others to little avail. Most folks didn’t seem to be home, even as the evening started to sink closer to night, and I wasn’t too surprised.
Southern hospitality was certainly real, but I didn’t blame anyone for not wanting to open the door to two strange men in their neighborhood as the sun started to set.
Despite our failure at finding someone else to talk to, Brody and I did enjoy one moment of success. We had made our way down to the edge of the river that ran along the neighborhood, and when I saw the state of the swampy bank, it was obvious something was deeply wrong about the water.
The stench that hung over the neighborhood seemed to increase by about a thousand percent this close to the source.
