Mel's eyes bulged and when she shifted them in my direction, we both busted out laughing. And just in time for the tour guide to interrupt.
"Zelda, you're not telling our guests your alien theory, are you?"
Zelda's eyes popped. "Oh, no, no. You told me there's no such thing as aliens, Miss Suzy. Why would I tell them that silly ol' story?" She winked at Mel and Mel winked back.
"Well, that's good, Zelda. You wouldn't want to scare these lovely ladies now, would you?"
"Oh, no, no. I wouldn't do that, Miss Suzy," she said and then pulled at Mel's arm as we turned. "Meet me in the cafeteria in five and I'll show you pictures of the aliens when they're not disguised as humans. I just gotta get the pictures from my room." She shuffled away at a turtle's pace.
"I'm Suzy Rotand," the tour guide said, extending out her hand. "Zelda is certainly a character, isn't she?"
"That she is. I'm Angela Panther, and this is my friend, Mel."
Mel shot me a warning glance. "And her sister-in-law."
"Yes, that too, of course."
"Nice to meet you both," Suzy said. "I understand you're interested in seeing our facility for an aunt?"
We nodded.
"Can you tell me what kind of care you need? That will determine the level of attention she'll need, thus help us decide on a floor. All of our floors cater to different types of residents."
"Oh, my aunt had a stroke, and she's now in a coma. My sister-in-law," I swung my head toward Mel, "and I are here to see if this is the kind of place that can help her."
"How long has she been in a coma?"
"About two months."
She nodded. "I see. Is she hospitalized nearby?"
"No," Mel said. "She's in Florida. We're trying to move her closer to us because we're her only living relatives, including my husband, of course."
"Okay," Sally said, nodding again. In fact, she hadn't stopped nodding since she started talking. "What is her prognosis?"
Prognosis?
"She's in a coma," I said, nodding, too.
"I understand," Sally said.
I worried her head would nod right off of her neck if she kept it up.
"But typically a stroke victim in a coma is either likely to come out of it, or not. What have the doctors said?"
"Oh, she's way gone," Mel said, swiping her hand from one side of her body to the other. "She's not coming out of this. We just want her to be comfortable and close to family for the time she has left."
"I see," Nodding McNodder said. "Life support?"
"We're still getting the details. They actually just found our contact information the other day, so we really don't know all that's going on. My husband is in Florida now, so we thought we'd do the due diligence here and see what's available."
Nodding McNodder was put out. "So you don't have any move in date ideas or specific details at this point?" She'd actually not nodded when she said that. That couldn't be good.
I shook my head. "No, not just yet, but my brother is supposed to call today with more information. Can we just see a room or something, so we can get a feel for the place?"
"I'm happy to show you our model, but touring a specific floor would require more detailed information." She angled her body toward the front desk. "Follow me."
Mel nudged me. "More detailed information? Our aunt is tits up in a coma. What more does she want? This blows."
"These aliens sure are picky."
She laughed. "I know, right? Well, maybe Fran's found something."
I checked the area but didn't see my mom anywhere. I caught a glimpse of a man in a blue sweat suit float through the fireplace. Before he made it all the way through, he turned and waved. I nodded my acknowledgment. The spirits that didn't ask anything of me always made me wonder. Did they know something I didn't? What made them stay? "She's nowhere to be seen at the moment."
We ooohed and awed our way through the tour of the teeny tiny model room. It was smaller than my master bedroom closet, and even smaller than my mom's old room at her assisted living place. I couldn't imagine living in such a confined space and not losing my mind like Zelda. Poor thing.
"Well," Nodding McNodder said as she walked us back to the front desk. It was obvious she wasn't at all interested in providing any more info without knowing more. "Once you have more details, please give me a call." She handed Mel her card. "I wish your aunt the best."
"Thank you," Mel said.
As we turned to leave, I stepped up to the front desk, and tapped on it for the nail filer's attention. She raised her eyes to me but not her whole head. "Might do you some good to learn how to greet people, young lady. Your manners are hideous." I stretched my smile obnoxiously across my face, then turned and walked out.
Mel laughed. "I'm so glad you said something to that little snot. She's horrible."
"Apparently forgot to teach that one basic manners."
"Ya think? Zelda reminded me of Fran."
"There was a time I would have sworn my mother had been taken over by aliens."
"I'm sure Emily's said that about you, too."
"I don't see how she could."
"Oh Lord."
Ma popped up as we walked to the car. She was disheveled, if that was possible.
"I don't like that place. They got people strapped into their beds and they're moaning for help and no one's comin'. It's horrible." She shook and little sparks of energy flew from her like fireflies. "Gives me the heebie-jeebies."
I filled Mel in.
"Oh my God. Our aunt is so not staying here."
"We don't have an aunt."
"You know what I mean." We got in the car. "So did she see her?"
I tipped my head at my mother. "Well?"
"Nope. No girl in a white gown. Lotsa old people in white gowns but no one under the age of seventy-five."
I leaned my head toward Mel. "Nope. And I'm gonna get a neck ache relaying messages for you."
"It's not my fault I can't hear her."
"I know. Not everyone can have that special something I've got."
"Oh honey, I've got something so special it makes yours pale by comparison."
"Good grief."
"So where to next?"
I grabbed my cell phone and checked the Internet for the next closest facility. "Sunny Hill Living. It's about three miles up the highway."
"I'm goin' now," Ma said. "I'll see you there." And with that, she shimmered away.
"Ma's on her way now."
Mel nodded.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Nod. Nodding McNodder drove me crazy. She was like a human bobble head or something."
"Oh my God, I'm so glad you saw that. I was about ready to grab hold of her head and scream, stop it."
I pressed my thumbs into my temples. "I think it gave me a headache. What's up with that? Is it some sort of sales technique or something? She nodded at everything. If I'd said she was an alien she probably would have nodded."
"And what about poor Zelda? Either she's telling the truth about the aliens or they've got her on some serious drugs."
"I kinda wanted to see her pregnant friend," I said.
"Me, too. I wonder what she looks like that Zelda thinks she's preggers?"
"Probably a little round in the middle."
"One would think."
***
Sunny Hill was miles above Peachtree Manor when it came to first impressions. The main room had a stone fireplace flanked with big, fluffy couches. They were newer than the ones at the first place, too. Seven people sat in the main room, watching The Price is Right on the big screen TV. They seemed almost happy. It wasn't a resort by any means but if aliens were using the residents as experiments, they didn't seem to care. Or maybe they just didn't know. I wasn't quite sure.
Sunny Hill's front desk woman, a tall brunette with wrinkles around her eyes and expertly manicured nails told us they couldn't accommodate Auntie Rita. Their facility was strictly fo
r those who could still feed and bath themselves.
"I'm gonna check and see if they got any private rooms they don't tell no one about," Ma said. "You know, where they do stuff they ain't supposed to. That place you shipped me off to had one so's I'm thinkin' this one does, too."
I nodded once and continued talking with the woman at the desk.
After we left, Mel and I leaned against my car, figuring out where to go next. Ma popped in front of me. She said she'd checked the entire place and didn't find any torture chambers—I didn't think she would—but that two people had passed on while she was there. One tagged along beside her.
"You might need to help this one."
The man appeared confused. "Ma, did he just die? Like, minutes ago?"
"That's what I said. Kicked the bucket right when I got to his room. Watched him float right outta his body. When he saw me, he screamed." She flicked her hand in the air. "Don't know why though. I think I look pretty good, you ask me. Not screamin' material unless it's in the heat of the moment or something."
"All righty then," I said and filled Mel in.
"So what's the man need?" she asked.
I asked my mother the same question.
"How should I know? I just told him he was dead and to go to the light and then I left. Next thing I knew he's following me around the place, like a lost puppy. He's kinda cute though, so I don't mind."
"What's your name?"
"Name? Clifford Parker the third."
"Hi, Mr. Parker. My name is Angela Panther. It's nice to meet you."
"Yes, you too."
"Mr. Parker, do you understand that you've passed on?"
He raised his head and checked out the parking lot. "Is this Heaven?"
"No, it's an Atlanta suburb." I pointed to the sky. "Up there, that's Heaven. Do you see the light?"
"I, uh…"
"You need to focus on that light, Mr. Parker. Look up at it and focus on it and you'll find Heaven."
"My wife."
"Your wife? Do you see your wife?" If he did, he was the only one.
"My wife needs to know. She needs to know what I did."
And there it was, the reason he'd stayed.
"What did you do, Mr. Parker? I can tell your wife for you. It's sort of what I do."
"Oh, goodie," Mel said, rubbing her hands together and bouncing on her toes. "I love this stuff."
I peered at her and mouthed, "Hush."
The spirit spoke again. "She needs to know."
"I understand, Mr. Parker. Tell me what it is she needs to know, and I'll tell her. I promise. You can even come with me, if you'd like." I shifted my attention to my mother. "Ma, do me a favor, go and find out if they know he's passed, and see if you can find out who his wife is and where she is for me, please."
She saluted me. "Celestial sleuth at your service." She shimmered away as she dropped her hand from her forehead.
I groaned at her as she left. "Who is your wife, Mr. Parker?"
"Mary Parker. That's my wife." He pointed toward the facility entrance. "She's on the third floor."
"Mel, what was the third floor of this place again?" I asked.
"The third floor? Did they mention that?"
I nodded. "Yes, they mentioned it. Do you remember?" I asked, impatient.
"I don't, I'm sorry."
"Great. I don't either." I smiled at the spirit. "What's on the third floor, Mr. Parker?"
"My wife, Mary."
The poor man was confused and my heart ached for him. "I know that, I mean, what kind of people? Can she talk? Is she awake?"
His eyes twinkled. "She's sleeping. I don't get to see her anymore, except in my dreams. She needs to know what I did. She will be happy to know what I did."
He wasn't making sense but that wasn't uncommon for the newly dead. Once the confusion passed they were much more aware of their surroundings, and what they wanted. "Mr. Parker, what do you want me to tell Mary? I will be happy to tell her."
"I didn't pay the mortgage payment and I had to move here," he said. "She told me I had to pay the mortgage payment and I forgot." He pointed back toward the building’s entrance. "Oh, I can tell her now. She's here."
A woman dressed in a lovely pink suit, maybe a late 1990s style, with a light ruffling on the collar and sleeves floated near the front entrance. Mary was dead, too. "Sorry Mel. Mr. Parker doesn't need me to give his wife a message after all."
"Why not?" Mel asked.
"Because Mary's floating over to us now."
"Oh. That's a bummer."
I watched as Mary and her husband connected. She told him she'd been waiting a long time—the suit was a dead giveaway to that—and that she wasn't upset about the mortgage payment. He told her he missed her, and as he did, I watched as his energy began to glow.
Mary smiled at me. "I've been waiting for him," Mary said. "He's been confused a long time. Dementia. I died twenty years ago."
"I had a feeling," I said, pointing to her suit. "I love the color."
"Thank you. We're going now."
"Okay," I replied, not sure what else to say. "God bless."
"You have much to do, young lady," Mary said.
I would have asked her what that meant, but they'd already shimmered away. "Damn it. I hate that."
"Hate what?" Mel asked.
"She said I have a lot to do and then took off."
"You're getting a lot of cryptic messages like that lately. What's up?"
"Hell if I know. Apparently I'm not in on the secret." I spread my hands out to my mom. "Any comments from the cookie factory?"
Ma made a zipping motion near her lips.
I growled.
"Oh, my," Mel said. "What'd she say?"
"She didn't. She made the lip zipping thing, which we both know means she knows."
"She's got rules."
"So I've heard."
In the car Ma kept quiet but her energy buzzed. "She's being awfully quiet back there. I can hear her energy humming."
Mel raised her right eyebrow. "That's odd."
"That ain't my energy. That's my anger stewin' 'cause you don't ever cut me a break."
"Ma says it's not her energy. It's her brewing anger."
"Tread carefully, Luke Skywalker."
"I am. I am."
"You do know it's quite likely she can't tell you."
"Yah, maybe I can't," Ma said.
I leaned my head back against the headrest. "It would be nice if someone out there would let me have a teeny tiny bit of a say in what happens in my life, you know?"
"Are you talking to me?" Mel asked.
"I'm talking to them," I said, pointing to the ceiling. "The powers that be—God and his crew—up there. I just want a little hint or two about the cryptic messages. Is that too much to ask? Because this is getting a little frustrating."
Just then Tevin appeared next to my mom. "I got somethin'." He pointed to his head. "A memory."
I flicked my head, still pressed into the headrest, toward Mel. "Tevin's here. He's remembered something."
Mel pulled the notepad from her purse. "I'm ready."
"Go ahead, Tevin. Shoot."
"It 'bout Bach. Dude was there."
"You saw Bach at the bridge?"
"Dat's what I said."
"You can remember the bridge? Do you remember what happened?"
"Nah man, you ain't listenin'. I don't remember nothin' about da bridge 'cept Bach. He was there. I seen him. Find him an you find da trute."
"We gotta find Bach. He got a memory that he was at the bridge," I said. "But he doesn't remember anything else."
"Do you remember anything else about Bach?"
"I get a feelin' like I knew him an he at da bridge is all."
"You did know him, you just don't remember. Your mom said you told her you were staying at his house the night you died. Remember? Your mom told us this when we went there."
At least it wasn't just my kids that didn't listen to their moth
er.
"Nah man, I was busy."
"Ugh," Mel said.
"What?"
"Do you know how annoying it is to just hear one part of a conversation?"
"Trust me, hearing all of it is annoying sometimes, too."
"We need to go back to the park," Ma said. "Maybe he'll have a better chance of remembering something if he's hangs out where he used to hang out when he was alive."
"That's a great idea. Go for it."
"You betcha. Come on Tevin, let's skedaddle," she said, and they both shimmered away.
I gave Mel the Reader's Digest version of the conversation.
On the ride home Mel sent Aaron a text from my phone, updating him on Tevin.
"So how's Em?" she asked.
"She's doing well." I gave her the 411 on Mike.
"Maybe she's growing up."
"Maybe. So far Mike seems like a decent guy but I'm still kinda waiting for the bomb to drop."
"It usually does where Emily's concerned."
"Exactly." Just then, my cell beeped with a text message. "It's probably Aaron."
Mel checked the message. "It's from Josh."
"Is everything okay?"
"He said Gracie's tummy is making gurgling sounds and he wants to know if he should give her something."
"Tell him to give her one of her pills in the cabinet."
"Is he afraid she'll get sick or something?"
"Probably. He doesn't like cleaning up her accidents."
"Must be a gender thing. The Cheater would gag every time one of the kids pooped in their diaper. He couldn't even be in the same room when I changed them. And don't get me started on his gagging when they barfed. You'd think he'd have bigger balls than that, literally and figuratively."
"We're not gonna talk about Nick's balls are we?" I kidded.
"Hell no. I'm so done with those, I couldn't care less if they shriveled up and fell off."
"Liar."
She smirked. "Okay, so I sort of hope, with all my heart, they shrivel up and fall off, but am relieved they're not my problem anymore."
"I'm with you on that."
CHAPTER TEN
AFTER I DROPPED MEL OFF, I spent time doing mundane mom chores that gave me no satisfaction what so ever. I cleaned up Gracie's accident, then scrubbed my hands clean until they were wrinkled like my mother's, made dinner, cleaned up dinner, threw laundry into the washer and dryer, and paid a few bills. Finally finished with the monotony that had become robotic, I retreated with a glass of Riesling to the deck for a little me time.
Uncharted Territory (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 3) Page 14
