Where There's a Will

by Amy K Rognlie

  It was a good thing I had already scheduled Sharlene to open the store this morning. Of course, I had planned to be there with her, but at least she could open the door and turn on the lights and be ready for customers. I shouldn't be at the hospital long. I texted her to let her know, then jumped in my delivery van. If I hurried, I could make it in under fifteen minutes. I hoped I wouldn't be too late.

  The desk attendant squinted at me. “Let me see... He's in 520. North Tower.”

  I hopped into the elevator. The doors started to close just as I glimpsed Mona. I jabbed the “open” button, and she squeezed in.

  “Hey, fancy meeting you here.” I gave her a light hug, then pressed the button for the fifth floor. “What are you doing at the hospital this morning? I hope not more tests.” My poor friend had been poked and prodded enough over the last few weeks, though I was happy to see that she looked more like herself this morning.

  “No.” She slung her enormous tote bag over her shoulder. “I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself, and Rob left for Tuscaloosa this morning. Pastor Brian told me that Miz Grace is in the hospital, so I came to bring her a few old magazines. You know how she likes to cut them all up and make crafts out of them with that pod podge stuff.”

  Pod podge? I nodded, hiding my smile. Everyone at the church had to own at least one Miz Grace knick-knack, doodad or Christmas ornament in their home, or you weren't considered a true member of Short Creek Community Church. My own home office currently boasted a Miz Grace original—a cross constructed entirely of clothespins—propped up on the pile of knitting magazines on top of my desk where I would see it and remember to pray for her. “I didn't know she was in the hospital again.”

  “Yep, had some sort of deal with her back. That’s like the third time in the last few months. What are you doing here?”

  The door slid open and we exited out onto the fifth floor.

  “I came to see Kenny.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I didn't know you knew him that well.”

  “I don't. But he thinks I’m his daughter, and I thought maybe it would comfort him if I visited him.”

  Tell the whole truth, Callie.

  I squirmed a little bit. “Actually, I think he might be able to solve at least part of this mystery, and I want to talk to him again before he passes away. When I visited him the other day at Willowbough, he begged me to come again so he could tell me the whole story.”

  Her forehead wrinkled under her bruise. “What whole story?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he knows he doesn’t have much time left. I imagine he needs to try to make amends with his daughter.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I feel a little weird about sort of pretending to be Maple, but the Lord keeps pressing me to talk to him again.”

  She nodded knowingly. “Want me to go with you, Nancy?”

  “I could probably use your help, Bess. But I think we're in a hurry.”

  “Well, Miz Grace's magazines can wait. Let's go see what Mr. Kenny can tell us.”

  We headed down the fifth-floor hall. I hated hospitals. They reminded me of Kev's death and my brother-in-law's long, long recovery. Not to mention all the times we sat in the ER with my brother Jason. “What room did I tell you?”

  “520.” Mona pulled me to a stop near the nurses' station. “Don’t look now, but I think that's June Blackman’s husband standing over there. What’s his name? Ernie? Arlie?”

  “Morley.” I pulled out my phone, pretending to look at it while I cut my eyes toward the enormous palm tree. “That is him. I wonder what he’s doing here?”

  “Maybe something happened to June. I’ll see if I can find her.” Mona poked her head into the room next to us before I could stop her. “Oops, sorry. Wrong room. Here, have a magazine to read. This one has great recipes in it. Y’all have a great day!”

  I cringed. “Come on,” I whispered loudly, glancing toward Morley Blackman. If he hadn’t noticed us before, he’d have a hard time missing us now.

  Mona backed out of the room and grinned at me. “Nope, no June in there.”

  I grabbed her arm and tugged her down the hallway, aware of Morley’s gaze following us. “We can't go peeping into everyone's rooms. The nurses will kill us.”

  She assumed an innocent look. “I don't see any nurses, do you?”

  “Mona—” I laughed in spite of myself. She was incorrigible. “Come on, will you? We can worry about nerdy little Mr. Blackman later. I need to talk to Kenny.”

  Kenny's door was closed. I read the signs on the wall Fall Hazard, Special Diet, and Oxygen in Use.

  Ack. I hated the whole thing about hospitals. At least he wasn't in ICU, so that gave me hope that he was okay. Or at least not in imminent danger of death, though he had looked like it a couple of nights ago when the paramedics rushed him from his room at Willowbough. I knocked lightly. No answer.

  “Let’s go in.” Mona crowded behind me.

  I opened the door and poked my head in. Kenny lay on the bed, silent and still. His eyes were closed, the myriad of machines beeping rhythmically. I turned to Mona. “I don't want to wake him.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay. Nothing else to do in here except sleep anyway.”

  We slipped in, and I studied the nurses' notes on the whiteboard hanging on the wall, then the monitor next to the bed. “I don't know much about medical stuff, but it looks to me that his blood pressure and heart rate are good, at least. I wonder what was wrong?”

  Mona plunked her stuff down on the vinyl chair and opened the blinds. “Let’s get some light in here.”

  Kenny stirred, and I took his hand. It was icy cold, his skin dry and papery. “Good morning,” I said softly.

  He moaned without opening his eyes. I glanced at Mona and she shrugged.

  I squeezed his hand slightly. “I was hoping you'd feel better today.”

  His hand trembled beneath mine, and he struggled to open his eyes. “That you, Maple?”

  “I’m here.” Not exactly a lie.

  He breathed out a long sigh, then lay so still my heart stopped. Had he just passed?

  But no, the machines still beeped, unalarmed.

  I pulled a chair over near the bed so if he did open his eyes, he wouldn't be startled to see me looming over him. “Papa.” I winced a little at the pretense. But if Kenny believed I was his daughter and he needed to talk to her so he could die in peace, then it was okay. Wasn’t it? “Can you wake up and talk to me?”

  He stretched like a baby would, with total unselfconsciousness, his mouth gaping open in a huge yawn. “It won’t be long now,” he murmured.

  I raised my eyebrows. Not exactly what I expected him to say. What now? I waited.

  Mona cleared her throat, and he seemed to rouse a little more. His eyelids fluttered, and he squinted up at me. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me.” I squeezed his hand again and leaned a little closer, so he could see me.

  “Oh, Maple.” He lifted his free hand toward me, then let it drop as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up any longer. His wrists were so bony, I could have wrapped my entire hand around one. “I knew you'd come. She told me you were dead. But I didn’t...believe...her.” He coughed, gasping for breath. “She’s...a... witch.”

  I grimaced. I didn't want to upset him and have him start coughing again and maybe have a heart attack or something. “It’s okay.” I patted his hand. “You don’t need to talk about her.” Except that I was dying to find out who “her” was. Did he mean June? I'd have bet money on it if I was a betting gal.

  “I... want to... tell you, Maple.”

  Here goes. “I’m listening. But I don't want you to get upset, okay? You don't have to tell me it if it will make you sad.”

  He rocked his head back and forth on the pillow, his colorless hair matting onto his greasy forehead. “I do. I have to tell.” He began to cry quietly, then great gasping sobs that tore my heart out. “It’s okay, Papa. Everything’s all right.” I sent a silent plea
for help to Mona.

  She came to his other side and bent down to hug him. “It’s Mona, Mr. Carner. You might not remember me, but I'm praying for you.”

  He patted her shoulder. “My poor Shirley. Is that you? Don't cry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

  Mona straightened up, keeping a hand on his shoulder, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't know what to do. God, please help us. One of the machines started beeping wildly. “We have to calm him down, Mona.”

  “I didn’t mean to make him more upset.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Papa, I think you need to rest now.”

  “No!” He sat up suddenly, startling me. He shook off Mona's hand and turned to glare at me. His eyes were bugging out, but he appeared lucid. “She tried to kill me, Maple. She knows I know and that I was going to tell you, so she... oh, God...she tried to kill me.” He stared at me, horror in his eyes.

  “Who, Papa? Who would try to kill you?”

  “Her. Always...her.” He spat the words. “She thought I didn't know...about—” A violent coughing fit seized him. He caught his breath and pushed on, as if he wanted to spill it all out and be done with it. “She thought I didn’t know…what she did. She didn't…know I saw. But I was in the barn!” Spit trailed from the corner of his mouth. “He didn’t even know. But I knew. I saw what she did, and I never told. I never told…all these years because I was a coward.”

  I gulped. Why hadn't I waited for Todd to come with me? This was no small, sad tale of a failed father-daughter relationship. Dear God. This was a deathbed confession. I couldn’t think of what I should ask him. “When, Papa?”

  “When? When did I see it? When it happened. In the barn.” He clutched at the bed sheets. “You can’t…let her…get away with it.”

  Oh, dear. I felt the sweat trickling down under my arms. I couldn’t bear to ask, but I couldn’t not. “When what happened? Who did it?” I whispered.

  He slumped back down onto the pillow as a nurse hustled in.

  She glared at me, and I scooted away from the side of the bed to make room for her.

  “Why is he so agitated?” She checked his wristband, then consulted her tablet.

  I clenched my hands together in my lap. “I’m sorry. I visited him in the nursing home the other day and he wanted me to come and visit. So, when I heard he was in the hospital…”

  She wasn’t listening as she reset the machine. “It’s okay, Mr. Carner. Take some nice deep breaths for me. Good. Do it again.” She crossed her arms and spoke to both Mona and me. “He’s supposed to be resting. We almost lost him last night.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said meekly. “I didn't mean for him to get so upset. He, um, wanted to tell me a story.”

  Mona stood up, the pile of magazines slipping off her lap onto the polished floor. “Yeah, and anyway, he—”

  I shook my head at Mona and, miraculously, she closed her mouth.

  The nurse slipped a blood-oxygen monitor on Kenny’s forefinger. “Well, that’s enough storytelling for one day. Y'all will have to come back later. The docs are due any time now.”

  She said it nicely enough, but I knew she was telling us to leave.

  “Yes, ma'am.” I looped my purse strap over my shoulder. “Can you tell us what is wrong with him? We were at the nursing home last night when they had to rush him here to the hospital. He lives across the hall from my aunt.”

  She shook her head. “Unless y'all are family, I can't give you that information.”

  Kenny caught my eye, his gaze pleading with me. His lips formed a word. A name?

  I motioned toward the nurse with a tilt of my head, putting my finger to my lips. Hopefully he understood that I’d return as soon as I could.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I gave the nurse my fake-polite smile. “I understand. Thank you anyway. We’ll come back later.”

  We barely made it out the door before Mona let loose. “I can’t believe she kicked us out. He was ready to spill the beans about something big, the poor man. Who do you think he was talking about that tried to kill him? Do you really think someone tried to kill him? He might be suffering from illusions, you know. And that nurse could have at least told us what was wrong with him.” She sniffed with great feeling. “She had no right to—”

  “Delusions, Mona. Not illusions. And actually, she does. HIPAA laws and all of that stuff.” We reached the women’s restroom, and I pushed the door open and headed over to the sink to wash my hands. The hot water warmed my fingers. “But she never told us how long we had to stay out of his room.”

  Mona turned to stare at me in the dim light of the cold room, a sparkle in her eye. “I like your thinking, Nancy. How about if I pay a little visit to the nurses’ station and see what I can find out while you’re talking to ‘Papa’? I don’t think we have much time. He looks terrible, poor man, with his skin all yellow like that. I think folks should be allowed to die how and when they want to. Maybe he doesn’t want to be connected to all those tubes and stuff. I wouldn’t.”

  And she’d probably spent more time lately thinking about her own demise than she usually did. I looked up from the sink and studied her face in the mirror, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, the red splotches on her plump cheeks. “God’s still got plans for you, friend,” I said gently.

  “That’s what Pastor Brian told me.” She fluffed her spiky hair and adjusted the huge turquoise pendant that swung from her favorite necklace. She met my gaze in the mirror. “I’m trying to believe it.”

  “Some days are harder than others.” I dried my hands on a paper towel. “Difficult seasons are like that. But keep clinging tight to His hand.”

  She nodded and blew her nose. “I thought I already knew how to do that. But this is so hard.”

  “I know. But every time, we learn a little better how to lean in closer and how to trust more.” I couldn’t walk this journey for my friend, but I could trudge alongside her. “I’m praying for you, and we’re all going to be there for you. Now, go make a ruckus down there with those nurses and buy me some time.”

  She dabbed her eyes and smeared on an outrageous plum shade of lipstick that perfectly matched her nail polish and her pants. “You got it, Nancy. Rob says I’m the best he’s ever seen at making an ant hill out of a mountain.”

  An ant hill…? I sighed and let it go. “Let’s take a minute to pray. This may be my last chance to talk to Kenny.”

  We stood in the fifth-floor restroom and prayed. Prayed that Kenny would have one last chance to come to Christ. That he would be able to clearly tell me what he needed to get off his chest. That justice would be done in all situations surrounding Kenny, and that the truth would be revealed.

  “Amen.” I drew a deep breath. “I’m going to record the conversation.”

  “Good idea. Let’s go. You don’t want to have a run-in with the doctors. I’ll keep Nurse Ratched away as long as I can.”

  We slipped out of the restroom, and I watched Mona bustle down the hall to the nurses’ station before I turned the other direction and headed for Kenny’s room.

  Oh, fudge. The doctors were already there—a whole entourage of them in a large huddle in the hallway outside Kenny’s door. Scott and White Hospital was a teaching hospital, so all the doctors tend to make their rounds trailed by groups of interns. I sidled as close as I could without actually entering the room. None of them noticed me. Maybe this was a good thing.

  Especially since I spotted Morley Blackman edging in from the other side of the hallway. He was so short that he probably hadn’t seen me yet, especially with all of the medical personnel in the way.

  I moved behind a tall rolling cart of some sort and watched him. What was he still doing here? His bulky body didn’t exactly lend itself to skulking about, but it appeared that was what he was doing. He leaned against the wall three doors down from Kenny’s room, and whenever he thought no one was watching, he would take a huge sideways step toward the doctor
s, then glance around quickly and mop his forehead. I snickered, having a flashback to my childhood days of cartoon character Porky Pig’s exaggerated movements as he tried to sneak up on someone. Under other circumstances, I would have laughed out loud.

  Did he think no one would notice his obvious approach? And what was he doing here at the hospital anyway? I hadn’t given him much thought earlier, because I ran into people I knew all of the time. Especially at places like the grocery store or the hospital. After all, when there’s only one of each, the odds are pretty high that one will run into an acquaintance.

  But now, I had to wonder. What if Morley was not here because he was visiting someone in the hospital? What if he was here spying on Kenny? I couldn’t imagine that there was any love lost between the two of them, given the animosity between Kenny and Morley’s darling wife, June. Ha.

  I shrank into the doorway of the vacant room next to Kenny’s. From here, I could still hear what the doctors were saying, and I could keep an eye on Morley without him noticing me. What if he was involved in this whole thing? What if…what if he had heard that Kenny was in the hospital, and he had shown up at the hospital to finish him off? After all, Morley did write those horrible novels. I caught my breath. Maybe June’s husband was living out one of his own dreadful plots and planned to perpetrate some heinous crime. I heard about something like that on the news once.

  I scrutinized him from my hiding spot. I tried and failed to imagine such a comical figure having the capacity to be a cold-blooded killer. What if I was imagining things? But there must be a reason that he had worked himself up almost into the circle of doctors by now. I had been so intent on watching Morley, that I wasn't listening to the docs very well. I had heard snatches of things like “lung capacity” and “oxygen deprivation,” but none of that sounded super serious to me. However, if I had to judge by their demeanors, I might be convinced that my friend Kenny was not long for this life. After all, he was pretty old. I moved closer to the doorway as the docs moved as a mob into Kenny's room, then shrank back into the doorway when I noticed a Temple Police Department police officer striding down the hall toward me.