Bishop's Road

by Catherine Hogan Safer

  “Hello Frankie,” says Judy.

  “I could eat a horse,” whispers Frankie in a voice not used to exercise.

  “I’m pretty sure they have that here,” says Judy but the cafeteria is closed and the best she can come up with is jelly and a few dry rolls from the tray trolley that hasn’t been emptied yet of dinner’s leftovers. She brings the feast to Frankie’s room. Of course he can’t eat, having been without food for so long, and she devours the works. It sits heavy in her stomach.

  “I guess I should tell someone that you’re awake.” Judy heads to the nurses’ station with her news and in two minutes they’re all over Frankie, picking and prodding and announcing a miracle and Judy is lost in the shuffle wondering what she is to do now that her cover’s been blown. She leaves a note for the doctor telling him to keep an eye on Frankie and not let anyone named Jimmy Snelgrove come visiting since he’s the one who beat the crap out of him in the first place and to call the cops and have him arrested. She doesn’t sign her name.

  When she goes home she tells Joe Snake everything that’s going on. She’s not disapppointed to hear that Patrick rarely asks after her but her ego smarts a little.

  “Well. I think I’d like to get out of town anyway. I’m really hungry, you know. Is there anything to eat?”

  Mr. Benoit scrambles eggs and sets them in front of her with some toast but after a bite she has to run to the bathroom and throw up. Her poor tummy can’t take it and she settles for a handful of soda crackers.

  “You look like hell,” says Annie Paul when she returns with Lucy and is introduced to Judy, hears her tale of woe. “Have you ever lived in a teepee?”

  “I thought you’d had enough complications in your life,” says Joe Snake.

  “So did I but when the spirit flings things at your feet I think it only best to pick them up. Come on Judy. I know the perfect place to mend. Get your things and meet me in that gorgeous black Mercedes out in the driveway. Joseph, I don’t think you should bother your cop friend with word of the good doctor’s disappearance. He’s gone, for sure, and I think looking for him will only cause more trouble for the living. Leave it be. Can you give me money for gas?”

  Nobody thought to tell Ginny Mustard not to mention her adventure in the beautiful country. She’s been drawing up a storm. Pictures of a loon and a lake, the moon on the water, a teepee and a native woman staring into a fire. From the little she says her fellow inmates figure she’s out of her mind and even young Alice Paine is inclined to go along with the diagnosis. She is pleased that Ginny Mustard is talking to her now and thrilled that she seems so healthy - physically - but believes her patient is heading off the deep end for sure this time and tells the warden so.

  “She is completely delusional. She thinks she’s been to the country and living in a teepee. She could snap any day, though she certainly seems to be happy with her fantasy.”

  “What do you mean snap? So you figure she’s dangerous?”

  “Well, not exactly dangerous. It’s hard to say really.”

  “Oh for God’s sake! Is she dangerous or not? That seems a simple enough question. Never mind. Go on back to your other lunatics and leave this one to me.” And has Ginny Mustard placed in solitary to keep the peace around here.

  In her tiny cell, Ginny Mustard can’t hear anything but the guards when they bring her meals. She can’t see anything but four walls and a ceiling. The light is false and pale, there is no window. She doesn’t have pencils or paper. When Joe Snake comes to visit he’s told he can’t see her. Neither can he talk to the warden to find out why, though he sits outside her office for a long time until several guards escort him away. The same happens the following week and the one after that. He talks to Alice Paine. She looks too worried to be of any help but she does tell him she’s keeping an eye on his wife and that she’s okay.

  When her water breaks in the middle of the night Ginny Mustard is surprised but doesn’t call out. She takes off her clothes and lies down on the hard cot. When the pain becomes unbearable she walks back and forth. Sometimes she crawls. She massages her belly and feels each rock hard contraction consume her. Between them she laughs. She hears Annie Paul telling her to be a good little Buddhist and eat the pain, the only advice on child-birth she could come up with, not, she said, that she knew any-thing on the topic, and she certainly doesn’t think there is any sense in being a Buddhist but they sure know how to deal with suffering. Ginny Mustard laughs again and eats the next contraction and the next one after that, on into the night. When the time comes to push she does with all her might - squatting on the cold floor - and with strong arms brings her baby to her belly, lies down and the afterbirth comes and she stares in wonder as the tiny creature crawls to her breast and suckles.

  That’s how the guards find her at breakfast time. Nursing a bloody little baby with afterbirth all over herself and Sweet Polly still attached. And now Ginny Mustard is back in the hospital and Nurse Edna is holding “the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life” clean and shining and ready to live again. If anyone were to walk by Eve’s grave right now the peace emanating from its depths would drive him to his knees.

  “She’s early according to the doctor, but they don’t know everything. Some babies are just in a hurry. And she’s a real good weight. And long. I was right. She’s going to be a tall one.”

  Nurse Edna hands the baby back to Ginny Mustard who immediately removes the little one’s clothes and examines her head to toe. She’s not looking for anything in particular, just doing what every new mother does if no one stops her. She stares into dark eyes, blue black eyes. “She has blue eyes,” she remarks to no one and Nurse Edna tells her they’ll change later on. Most likely be very brown. “Her hair is black. The other kids won’t call her Mustard.”

  “No,” says Nurse Edna. “But I’m sure they’ll come up with something else. Kids always do, you know.”

  “She’s pretty.”

  “And that she is, dear. Prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on,” says Nurse Edna, wondering what’s to become of the sweet baby when her mother is hauled off to jail again.

  Joe Snake has been here already. He held his daughter as though he knew what he was doing. Stared into her small face for the longest time before a nurse took her away for more of a check-up. He sat with his wife. Held her hand. Smiled. Only when Ginny Mustard said he should tell his mom and dad, did he leave to make a few phone calls. “And Annie Paul. Tell Annie Paul what a nice baby we have.”

  When prison officials got wind of the goings-on they were furious. The warden is being raked over the coals for sticking a pregnant woman in solitary with no one watching her. What the hell was she thinking? Where were the guards when the woman went into labour? No! They were not where they were supposed to be or they would have heard her! How can you not hear a woman yelling when she’s in labour? Impossible! What do you mean they heard her laughing? Woman don’t laugh when they are having babies! She might be crazy as the crows but guaranteed, she’d be yelling - not laughing - in that situation! Doesn’t matter what you say!

  They question Alice Paine and learn that as far as she’s concerned Ginny Mustard was not well enough to be there in the first place, found out why she had been sent to the hospital originally. And what the hell was she doing in solitary confinement? Delusional? She pretended she’d been living in a bloody teepee? So fucking what? She killed a guy. Sane women don’t run around killing people! Why would a stupid fantasy set her apart from the others in the first place? There’s no one in here with both oars in the water! What are you going to do - stick them all in solitary?

  Now they are in a huddle. We could have a lawsuit on our hands like you wouldn’t believe! They wonder if maybe they should have a parole hearing now instead of wailing until December. Strings are pulled, stretched to breaking, and it is decided that as soon as their prisoner is on her feet and back behind bars they will proceed. If they set her free there’s less chance that this will explode in their f
aces.

  Joe Snake goes to Ruth’s apartment to leave a note about the news. He tried to call but she’s not answering her telephone. When he arrives she’s sitting outside on her little porch making decisions, university calendar in hand and notepaper everywhere.

  “I’m going to study forensic science,” she tells him. “I’m going to eat my vegetables and some whole-wheat chicken and free range fruit so I can live for a few years after I’m done choking down the education. Maybe I’m a late bloomer but it’s about time I got off my ass and on with it. What do you think, Joe Snake? Do you think I can get it together at this late date? I don’t know how I’ll pay for it. I’ll have to keep working and get a student loan. From what I hear if you have a job they don’t give you enough to pay the friggin’ tuition so forget about rent and food and I’m not giving up the cigarettes, that’s for damn sure. I’ll have to lie about a few things, I daresay. Help me fill out these forms, will you? And you’ll have to teach me how to use your computer. Can I borrow time on it now and then? What brings you by, anyway?’

  Joe Snake smiles. Tells her she can certainly use his computer. “The baby is here. She was born last night.”

  “Wonderful! A bit early. Is she okay? How much does she weigh? How long is she?”

  “She’s fine. They’re both fine. I don’t know how much she weighs. How long.”

  “God! You men are all alike. When can I see her?”

  “Ginny Mustard is sleeping now but if you want to come later on we can go together.”

  “Did you get flowers?”

  “No.”

  “Joe Snake! You have to bring flowers! We’ll get some on the way. Lots of them. I remember how much she liked the ones I got from Patrick when we were living at Mrs. Miflin’s house. Daisies were her favourites. I’ll bet old Eve is happy as a lark now. She really had a concern going for that baby.”

  “Eve is dead, Ruth.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Give me a hand with these forms, will you? I think you need a PhD to figure them out.”

  Annie Paul says, “The baby is here. Sadie Benoit just told me. She wants to see her so I said I’d drive in tomorrow.”

  “I want to go too. I need to check on Frankie. Make sure Jimmy doesn’t get him again. I want to tell Patrick what happened. I was thinking about it you know, and I figure it’s the right thing to do. Tell Patrick and say what I know about Jimmy beating the crap out of Frankie. He shouldn’t be allowed to just walk around like nothing happened, should he? I mean, Frankie was lying there for ages missing a whole lot of his life and his mom went and moved without him and no one knows he’s even alive any more except me and those people at the friggin’ hospital. I’m scared Annie Paul. Jimmy’s got a lot of mean friends. What if they hunt me down when I tell on him?”

  “I can’t imagine that anyone would ever find you in this hole in the wall. You can stay here until the coast is clear. Why don’t you tell this Patrick of yours what you know and see what happens. I have a feeling it’s going to work out okay for you. I’ll come with you to see him if you want me to.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Judy’s time with Annie Paul has been good for her. “You put me in mind of Eve, only for she was real old, but she was kind of peaceful, you know. Like nothing bothered her much and you’re sort of that way. I don’t think I ever saw her get flustered except that one time when she wanted us to tell about Ginny Mustard killing Mr. Miflin but then she was fine again. She liked growing things. And birds. She was forever feeding them scraps of bread and stuff. She used to keep the bacon and sausage fat in the fridge in a milk carton. She’d put seeds in it and just throw the fat on top and when it was full she’d put it out for those birds. She said His eye is on the sparrow but sometimes He wants us to give it a morsel now and then especially in the winter when the worms and bugs are hiding. I really miss her a lot.”

  Annie Paul enjoys Judy’s company. The girl has a knack for weeding and the garden is spotless. And she’s smart as a whip. Show her something once and she’s got it. She knows which weeds to throw away and which ones they’ll have with supper. She cleans trout faster than anyone but she won’t eat them. She chops wood better than three people put together and is tireless. When Annie Paul ran out of things for her to do she wandered off and met up with some of the other young people and they seem to have accepted her, taking her with them to the local hang-out to play pool in the evenings but more often than not she’d just as soon be around the older folks, give them a hand with whatever they’re up to. Most days there’s a crowd of little kids close at her heels because she comes up with the best ideas for having fun and the noise from the lake is deafening at times with a dozen or so youngsters and Judy the ringleader splashing like there’s no tomorrow. She asks Annie Paul if the lake is good for skating in the winter because she’s thinking it might be fun to get a hockey team together.

  “If Patrick doesn’t arrest me for running off is it okay if I stay longer? I have some money in the bank but I lost my card so I can’t get it out until they give me a new one. I could pay for whatever I eat, you know. I feel real comfortable here. If you don’t want me to live in your teepee maybe I could find another place. Maybe Mrs. Benoit could rent me a room and I could still help you with things.”

  “Why don’t you stay in my brother’s house? It’s empty.”

  “I think I need to live with people. I always get in trouble when I don’t. Sometimes even when I do but not so much.”

  Annie Paul looks at the girl who wants so badly to do the right thing. Since her arrival the spark has come back and she’s usually smiling. Other than smoking pot with her new friends now and then and the subsequent giggles and munchies when she gets home. The racket when she’s swimming with the little kids. Shaving her head that time because orange hair looks out of place around here, don’t you think Annie Paul, and I’m going to see what colour it is - I’ve been friggin’ around with it since I was eleven and I can’t remember - Judy is a joy. Annie Paul is not sure she wants the responsibility of looking out for the girl but she doesn’t want to piss off the spirits either.

  She smiles. “Why don’t we wait and see what happens after you talk to your Patrick. Time enough to make decisions when we know what we’re dealing with. Okay?”

  “Okay. I’m going to see if Mrs. Benoit has any more of that stuff she makes for fly bites. I’m itching like crazy. Bye.”

  Ruth and Joe Snake are on their way to the hospital, arms full of flowers for Ginny Mustard, dozens of daisies in every colour but blue. “They’re too weird,” said Ruth. “They must dye them. They sure as hell don’t look natural to me.”

  She asks why Joe Snake didn’t make it to Dorrie’s wedding. “It was worth the cash. What a show. He’s a friggin’ biker in his spare time, you know. And his buddies were all there and I don’t care how you dress them up they still look like hoods. Dorrie’s friends came as Barbie dolls, whether they meant to or not, and her parents are the straightest pair you’d ever want to meet. Butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths so you can just imagine what the church looked like, a bunch of Pentecostals on one side and Hell’s Angels on the other. I sat with the bikers. Couldn’t take the chance of all that goodness rubbing off on me. You could almost taste it.”

  “What does ‘goodness’ taste like?”

  “Sticky. You’d never get it off the roof of your mouth.” And she laughs. “The honeymoon is a trip to some big Harley convention. Phil gave the bride a motorcycle helmet for a wedding present. She all but disappeared when she put it on. There’s about fifty of them going together. Dear Dorrie is officially a biker babe. In my wildest dreams I wouldn’t have seen her in that role.”

  Ruth stops walking. “You never can tell, can you, Joe Snake.”

  “No, Ruth. You never can.”

  They carry on in silence. Ruth has no more to say today and when she holds Sweet Polly, looks into her eyes and smiles. The baby wraps her little brown hand around one of Ruth’s fingers and Rut
h cries - in her heart - where stirs that quiet pain again.

  Three days after she had the baby Ginny Mustard was whisked away to jail. She nursed Sweet Polly one last time and handed her over to Joe Snake’s care. Mrs. Benoit has brought along all of the paraphernalia necessary for the clothing and feeding of a baby. She dug out the cradle her own children had slept in for the first few of months of their lives, close by her bed so she could rock them with her foot when they stirred in the night and didn’t need to wake yet. She cleaned it and packed in gently in Annie Paul’s stolen car along with one special blanket she had made for her son while she was carrying him.

  She teaches Joe Snake how to wash the little one, how to test the temperature of the milk, how to burp her, and a few lullabies in the old language to sing her to sleep. “When she grows out of the cradle she should sleep with you until she’s ready for her own bed. I think that makes for happier people. And don’t haul her around in a stroller until she’s too big for this carrier. Put it on your front first and on your back when she starts wanting to look around. You have to get a rocking chair.” Joe Snake makes notes but there’s no need because his mother plans to stay in the city awhile if he wants her to. “Young Judy might go back with Annie Paul and she can look after things for me. She’s a real good worker that one, when you can drag her away from the water.”