by Rhett DeVane
At least Jon had left a fully cooked pot roast in the refrigerator. The notion of cooking for one person held no appeal tonight. With the exception of Mandy, all of the staff was gone, and Jon wouldn’t be home until well past dark.
“Lordy be!” he said when he uncovered the casserole dish containing the roast. One thin slice of meat, two potatoes, and a carrot floated in a pool of congealed gravy.
Jake snatched the casserole from the counter and shuffled through the reception area to the hair salon. Mandy was cleaning her workstation following her final patron.
“Who ate all the dang pot roast?” he asked in an angry voice. “There was plenty of meat and potatoes left over from last night!”
“Don’t look at me! Elvina called out for pizza for all of us. We made Melody go pick it up.”
“Well then, who ate it? It didn’t just suck itself clean out of the refrigerator. And, don’t tell me the ghost of my dear Piddie is stealing food out of this house!”
Mandy shrugged. “Maybe Jon stopped in and had dinner.”
“No, he packed a sandwich this morning. How ’bout Evelyn? Or Holston?”
“Evelyn’s been in Tallahassee all day. She took some of her flag capes over to the First Lady. Remember?”
Jake looked perplexed. “Yeah.”
“…and Hattie, Holston, and Sarah had lunch at the Homeplace. He hasn’t been back this afternoon.”
He stared down at the casserole dish. “This is way weird. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m cranky because I’m so hungry, and I guess I had my mouth all set for this.”
“I’m sorry, hon. I can’t imagine who could’ve eaten it. Maybe the same little piglet who ate the last piece of Jon’s lasagna I’d been saving for myself.”
“We’re gonna have a staff meeting about respecting each other’s food. And, while we’re at it, we’ll have a little chat about washing the dishes up so that they’re not left stacked to the ceiling for you, or me, to wash at the end of a long day.”
“Sounds like an idea to me. I’ll get Elvina to pick a spot on everybody’s schedule.” She rested one hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You look pooped. Want me to scrounge around in there and make you some supper before I leave?”
Jake smiled weakly. “No thanks, sweetness. I’ll just sling myself up a fried egg sandwich.”
Mandy stuck out her tongue and groaned. “I don’t know how you eat those things.”
“You don’t know what you’re missin’. I practically lived off them in the lean years.”
“Favored peanut butter and banana sandwiches myself.”
“Yuck.”
“To each, her own.”
“Will you lock up on your way out?” Jake called out as he started back toward the kitchen.
“Surely purely,” Mandy said.
Jake flipped the fried egg in a moat of butter and broke the yoke so that it would cook. Runny yolk in a fried egg sandwich was just plain creepy. He let his mind go blank as he watched the grease sizzle around the curling edges of the egg white.
A thought struck him so hard, he almost dropped the spatula on the floor.
The missing food. Zelda’s stolen tarp and blankets. He took the hot griddle from the stove and flipped the power off.
Jake started out the mansion’s back door, then stopped to grab a flashlight. He picked his way carefully through the garden, past the butterfly plants to the heavily wooded thicket at the far corner of the property.
“Moses Clark! This is Jake!” he called out. “I have a pretty good idea you’re in there!”
His voice calmed the cricket calls for a moment. Except for the muffled swoosh of a car passing by on the street in front of the spa, the woods were silent.
“If you’re listenin’ to me right now — they’re not after you Moses. Hank Henderson’s still alive. You did not kill him! The whole shooting, and what was goin’ on before, was all on tape…and they know everything…all the bad stuff he was up to.”
Jake heard the faint snap of a twig. “The police know it was an accident, Moses!
“They need you to tell your side of the story to help put him away for a long time, where he can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
Jake’s brain raced. “Moses, you know I’ve never lied to you, and I’m not about to start now. Please come out and talk to me! Let’s go to the police. Tameka is staying at Miz Wanda’s house. She needs you, too, Moses.”
A wave of heaviness at being the bearer of sad news washed over him. He leaned his weight on his cane. “There’s something else, Moses. Your grandmother. She’s…there’s been some trouble. Please, Moses…if you’re in there, please come out.”
Jake’s words echoed in the solitude of early evening. A furtive movement caught his attention. Moses Clark stepped from the shadow of a large pine tree. “Is somethin’ the matter with May-May?”
Jake swallowed hard. “Come inside with me. I’ll fix us some hot chocolate, and we can talk.”
Moses walked toward Jake. He circled his arm around the boy’s shoulder, and they walked back through the garden to the mansion.
“I’ll just bet the good Lord gets a chuckle out of us sometimes. We cry and moan when bad things happen to us. But, just let life settle into a day-by-day, and we’re griping that things are dull as dirt. Humans just beat all. We ain’t never satisfied. Bet the Almighty wishes sometimes he’d never thought to make Adam, let alone Eve.”
Piddie Davis Longman
Chapter Twenty-eight
Following the church funeral service and brief graveside memorial, the small fellowship hall of the Morningside AME church overflowed with the family and friends of Maizie Clark. Like the crowd attending Piddie’s service, the gathering was a mixture of people of different races and ages. Many of Maizie’s coworkers from her years in the custodial division of Florida State Hospital came to pay final respects, as well as the majority of the church congregation. Patrons of the Triple C Spa who had grown fond of Moses and Tameka stopped by and brought food for the post-funeral meal. All of the staff of the spa was in attendance, as were the Davis and Lewis families.
“I understand, now, what Mama always said about the services here,” Evelyn said to Jake as she served a piece of cake. “That was one of the most beautiful funerals I’ve ever attended. Sad, but uplifting at the same time…and the singing!”
Jake nodded. “I heard that. I kept checking for cracks in the stained glass window beside our pew when that one soprano, believe her name’s Rayleen, hit some of those high notes. Whew!”
“I didn’t know Miz Maizie very well. Mama did, though. She went with Lucille to see her a few times now and again, after Miz Maizie got too sick to get out much.” Evelyn smiled. “Last Christmas, Mama and Lucille took a big turkey dinner and all the fixin’s over to the house. When Miz Maizie laid eyes on them with all that food, she said, Good God Almighty! Well…Lucille says, Now, Maizie, you shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain. Miz Maizie says, real quick, I wasn’t takin’ His name in vain. He’s good, He’s God, and He’s all mighty!”
Jake stifled a chuckle. “Wanda and Maizie seemed to hit it off, right from the start. I think Wanda spent most of her time off over at her house. This whole thing’s hit her hard, ’specially since she knows the kids’ll be leaving with James.”
“Lawsy, I do feel so sorry for those young’uns.” Evelyn shook her head sadly.
“Their Uncle James is a good man, though. I’m sure they’ll bounce back after a while.
Wanda’s gonna be lost without them. She and little Tameka have really grown close.”
“I know. Actually, Jon and Wanda have already discussed going up to Birmingham to pick them up for the Madhatter’s Festival next month. I’ll be up to my wahzoo in preparations, but they can take the 4Runner and drive up.”
“James and Alicia are okay with that?”
Jake nodded. “James thinks it would help them to maintain a connection with us here in Chattahoochee. Anyone can see how much the kids are goin’
to miss this place.”
Evelyn pointed to a towering six-layered cake on the dessert table in front of them. “Just look at the Red Velvet Cake my Joe made. Isn’t it something? He’s really got a knack for cookin’. He’s planning on opening a little bakery up town when he finishes his training.”
“A bakery? I thought he was leaning toward a full-fledged restaurant.”
“I don’t think he knows what he wants, just yet. He doesn’t want to cause any ill will by competing with the Homeplace, you know. Maybe he’ll just cook breakfast. He’s gonna bake bread, fresh pies, and cakes, for sure.”
“The way Chattahoochee’s thriving, it could support another eatery. Anyway, I’ll order from him for the sweet shop, if he decides to do pastries.”
“You should talk that over with him. He even has a name all picked out. He’s callin’ it Borrowed Thyme Bakery.”
Jake smiled. “Cute. Where’d he get that inspiration?”
“He’s borrowin’ most of the pie and cake recipes from Mama’s old recipes. And, he’s gonna hit up the ladies in town for their specialties — wants to publish a little cookbook. The time part is spelled thyme after the spice. He says that time’s all he has on his hands since he’s retired from the hospital. Oh, he has all kinds of plans! If we don’t end up in the poorhouse, we’ll be all right.”
“If this cake, here, is any indication of his talents, he’s bound to do well. It’s truly a masterpiece, Ev.” Jake scanned the crowd. “Where did the kids get off to, anyway?”
“I saw them walk outside a minute or two ago.”
Jake wiped his hands on a linen cloth. “You mind if I leave you for a bit?”
“Oh, sure. You go ahead. I may not be able to cook any of this, but I can sure as heck serve it up.”
The children’s play area for the church had, for years, consisted of a two-seat swing set and a rickety aluminum slide. Thanks to the playground fund committee’s numerous bake sales, car washes, and Friday night buy-a-plate dinners, the area now held a new six-seat swing set, monkey bars, and an intricate treehouse-style wooden clubhouse with two plastic tube slides. For the toddlers, three colorfully-painted fiberglass circus ponies mounted on stiff springs stood amidst a soft landing site layered with white sand.
Jake picked his way carefully down the steep side stairs and walked toward the swing set where Moses was gently pushing his seated sister. “Mind if I join you?” he called out.
Tameka applied her toe brakes to stop the swing’s momentum and patted the wooden seat beside her. “Sit right here.”
“Whew!” Jake eased on to the seat. “It’s nice out here, isn’t it? I guess, pretty soon, the leaves’ll be changing colors.” He smiled wistfully. “I always liked the Fall. It’s my favorite time of the year.”
Moses sat down cross-legged in front of them. The first few cool nights of late September had laid the church lawn dormant and the grass crackled under Moses’ weight.
Jake looked at first Moses, then Tameka. “How y’all holdin’ up?”
Moses shrugged. “All right, I reckon.”
“I’m not,” Tameka said. “We have to move to Bird-ming-hamm with Uncle James and Auntie Alicia.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s a drag. We’ll surely miss you both. I don’t know what I’m gonna do at the Spa without your help with the plants, Moses. And, Tameka, it’s always been a joy to see your smiling face around the salon.”
They sat together in shared silence for a moment.
“Wanda said Mr. Hank’s bad off.” Moses’ voice was barely audible.
Jake squinted into the sun. “Yeah. He’s healing from his shoulder wound, but…”
“Why you reckon he was such a bad man, Mr. Jake?” Tameka’s face shone with the innocence of a child.
“I don’t know the answer to that, Tameka. But, I can tell you one thing —sometimes grown-ups are really just hurt children inside, and that makes them lash out at other people.” Jake stretched to find the words. He tapped his cane on his injured leg. “Do you two know why my leg’s like this?”
Tameka shook her head.
“I heard someone beat you up,” Moses answered.
“That’s right. A boy I barely knew hurt me really bad. I almost didn’t make it. But, you know what I found out later that helped me to forgive him?”
The children watched him intently.
“The young boy who hurt me wasn’t much older than you are, Moses. He was almost eighteen. Turned out, he had a terrible, terrible time trying to grow up. His mama hurt him over and over, and a lot of the other grown-ups in his life did, too. He grew up just filled with hate and meanness. It wasn’t me he beat up. It was all the demons that were hurtin’ him inside that made him do it.”
Tameka’s face knit with confusion. “So…Mr. Hank has demons inside him?”
Jake shook his head. “Not real demons honey. But, I’ll just bet he has the make-believe kind, and they can hurt you pretty bad.”
Moses frowned. “I don’t reckon I can ever stop bein’ mad at him. How can I just up and forget all he did, just like that?”
“I know it’s not easy, Moses. Man, do I know it.” Jake sighed. “Mr. Hank’s pain and anger ate away at him until there was probably not a bit of good or loving kindness left inside of him. He’s in a prison in his own mind, now.”
Jake looked at both children. “Don’t let the same evil that took away his soul, reach down and take yours, too. You gotta find a way to let it go…or it will fester inside of you.”
Jake rocked gently on the swing. “You don’t forget it…not all the way. But, you’ll find a way to live with it…without the anger taking a big chunk out of your heart and soul.” He looked first at Tameka, then her brother. “Does any of this make any sense to you, at all?”
Moses picked at the dried grass on his pants leg. “A little, I guess.”
“You know, you both can call me, or Jon, or Wanda anytime you need to talk. Your aunt and uncle are good folks, too. I’m sure they will be right there to see you through.”
“You reckon Mr. Hank will ever get well?” Tameka asked.
Jake paused, amazed at the depth of her compassion. “Hard to say. The pain might’ve pushed him too deep inside himself. The important thing for both of you to remember, you didn’t do anything wrong. Do you understand?”
“We hurt May-May,” Moses said softly.
“Your grandmama was very sick. Her body was just plain tired and worn out.”
Moses wiped a tear from his cheek.
Tameka looked upward toward the clear blue skies. “May-May told us lots of times she might be called home to heaven. She said that God was waitin’ ’till He had her place prepared.”
“You believe that?” Moses asked Jake.
“I believe a person’s spirit goes on after the body can’t anymore. And, I believe your grandmama’s going to be your guardian angel.”
Moses rolled his eyes. “Aw, you don’t really believe in angels, do you?”
Jake smiled. “Sure do! I think it’d be a sad world indeed, if I couldn’t believe in them.”
Wanda walked toward the swing set. “There you are! I was wondering where you all got off to.”
“We’re jus’ talkin’,” Tameka said. She reached up and grabbed Wanda’s hand and guided her to sit on the seat on the other side of her and Jake.
“I spoke with your Uncle James, kids. He says it’ll be okay for Mr. Jon and me to come up and get you for the Madhatter’s Festival next month. Would you like that?”
“Would we ever!” Moses smiled wide.
Wanda reached over and patted him on the head. “Piddie would’ve said, you’re grinnin’ like a goat eatin’ briars! I guess that means you think it’s a grand notion.”
Tameka’s face turned from joy to sadness.
Wanda grabbed her small hand. “What? What? Why the sad face? Don’t you want to come back and visit us?”
“I won’t ever be able to see our old house again,” Tameka said. �
��Some other people will be stayin’ in it.”
Wanda rubbed her hand across Tameka’s shoulders. “You can stay with me, honey. That way, we can have a good long visit, and I can cook for both of you.”
Jake held up his hand. “I was going to wait to let this out…but, I’ll tell y’all if you can promise to keep it to yourselves until it’s a done deal.” He looked hard at each one of them, and they nodded ascent. “Jon and your Uncle James have been talking about your grandmama’s place. Seems that it’s a good example of a style of house called a shotgun house — very historical, and all that. Well, we’re going to propose to the city that they buy the house from your uncle, and then we’ll preserve it as a museum.”
“Cool!” Moses said.
“So you’ll be able to visit the house when you come back and see us.” Jake shook his finger. “Don’t you let on I told you a thing. It’s still in the talking and planning stages right now. Jon’s a real history buff, you know. He knows a lot about these shotgun houses, and he’s going to get in touch with one of the groups here in the South who tries to save houses like your grandmother’s.”
“I think Miz Maizie would like knowing her house would be used to preserve history,” Wanda commented.
“You gonna stay with us ’till we have to leave, Miz Wanda?” Tameka asked.
“I’ll be right here. I promised your aunt and uncle I’d help you two pack up your clothes and stuff.” She cradled Tameka’s chin in the palm of one hand. “It’s gonna be all right, honey. You and Moses have your aunt and uncle, your cousins in Birmingham, and your other family right here in Chattahoochee.”
