Miss Julia to the Rescue

by Ann B. Ross

  “I can do that,” she said in her sharp, piercing voice, completely confident in her ability. “I can take care of them babies jus’ like they my very own.”

  Lillian rolled her eyes. “Don’t be thinkin’ nothin’ like that. You got a long road ahead of you ’fore you havin’ any babies.”

  Latisha’s little legs stuck out over the seat as she rummaged through her pink backpack, making sure that all her necessities were in it. “That’s why I’m doin’ all my practicin’ on Miss Hazel Marie’s babies, so I be ready when the time come.”

  “Have mercy,” Lillian mumbled.

  I quickly drove the four blocks to Sam’s old house, parked at the curb and climbed out. Latisha dashed up the sidewalk and onto the porch.

  “You jus’ wait a minute, young lady,” Lillian called. “Don’t go ringing that bell. Them babies might still be asleep.”

  “No’m, they wide awake. I hear ’em bawlin’ in there.”

  And sure enough, so could we as Lillian and I approached the door.

  “Oh, Lillian,” I said, “I dread this.”

  “I do, too, but it got to be done.” Lillian rang the doorbell and, thank goodness, Lloyd came to the door.

  “Uh-oh,” he said as soon as he saw us. “Bad news?”

  “Not good,” I said, “but maybe not terrible, either. At least as far as we know. Your mother busy?”

  “Yes’m, she’s feeding my sisters. Come on in, they’re in the kitchen.”

  Chapter 10

  Hazel Marie looked up with a surprised smile on her face as we trooped into the kitchen. She was still in her bathrobe, spooning baby cereal into two eager little mouths. The babies were each strapped into a carryall, and cereal was smeared in their hair and all over their faces.

  “Why, Miss Julia,” Hazel Marie said, a full spoon suspended on its way to an open mouth. “What are you doing out so early? And Lillian? My goodness…” Her face fell as she realized that our unusually timed visit did not bode well.

  James turned from the stove, where he was frying bacon, a dripping fork held in his hand. A distressed look spread across his face. “Miss Lillian, what y’all doin’ here? Something happen to Mr. Sam?”

  “No, no,” I said, “not that. Hazel Marie, we need to talk to you, honey. Are you about finished feeding the babies?”

  “Oh,” she moaned, her hand beginning to tremble as she realized that we had not come on a casual visit.

  “Here,” Lillian said, taking the spoon from her, “let me finish that. Miss Julia, you take her an’ Lloyd on to the livin’ room. I get these baby girls all done.”

  “I can help, Great-Granny,” Latisha said, “soon as you clean that stuff off of ’em. They too messy now.”

  “Come on, Hazel Marie,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulders and leading her to the sofa in the living room. “Lloyd, sit there by your mother.”

  “What is it?” Hazel Marie asked, her face becoming ashen as she realized that bad news was coming.

  “Now listen, Hazel Marie,” I said, as soothingly as I could. “We don’t know a whole lot, but it seems that Mr. Pickens has been injured in some way—a small way, I’m sure—and it seems that he’s in a hospital somewhere in West Virginia. Now before you think the worst, it’s not confirmed that the injured man is Mr. Pickens. They’re calling whoever it is John Doe, so it might not be him. Coleman is trying to learn more, as we speak. But we thought you needed to know that it might be.”

  Hazel Marie wrapped her arms around herself and swallowed hard. “How … how do you know all this?”

  I told her of Mr. Pickens’s phone call, looking for Sam or Coleman, and our further efforts to discover his location. “Those people, whoever they are, certainly play things close to their chests. We’ve not been able to speak to anyone with the authority to disclose any information. But, Hazel Marie, we are going to get to the bottom of this. We just didn’t want to leave you in the dark while we do it.”

  To tell the truth, I had not known how Hazel Marie would take the news. I’d thought she might lose all self-control—cry, scream, throw herself around, go half crazy—who knew? But I saw none of that. Instead, she seemed to sink in on herself, growing smaller as her face became drawn and her eyes larger. It was as if she’d been struck a mortal blow.

  “It’ll be all right, Mama,” Lloyd said, hugging her. “J.D. knows how to take care of himself. He’s not going to let anything bad happen.”

  Hazel Marie’s body began to tremble as she sat on the sofa. “I should’ve known,” she mumbled, as she gazed down at her clasped hands. “It was all too good to last.”

  “Oh, honey, don’t say that.” I sat down beside her and held her hands. “Don’t even think it. Look,” I urged, “we don’t know if it is him. And if it is, why, he was able to call for Sam, so he can’t be too bad off. I think it’s that sheriff up there who’s holding things up, and as soon as Coleman reaches him, why, then, we’ll know more of what’s going on. So you just hold on and be strong.”

  Tears were flowing down her face by this time, but there was no sobbing or gasping. Tears simply ran down her face as if her eyes could no longer hold them.

  The doorbell rang then, and I jumped up. “That’s Coleman. Maybe he’ll know something.”

  Lillian walked in as I went out into the hall. “The babies in they cribs,” she said, and went to Hazel Marie. Gathering her up in her arms, she crooned, “Come here, little girl. It gonna be all right. See if it won’t.”

  Hazel Marie clung to her as I ushered Coleman into the room.

  “Here he is, Hazel Marie,” I said, beginning to tremble a little myself. Anxiety is catching, you know.

  Coleman pulled a chair up close to Hazel Marie as she released herself from Lillian and looked at him.

  “Hazel Marie,” he began, as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I talked to Sheriff Ardis McAfee in Crayton County, West Virginia, a few minutes ago, but I didn’t get all the information I wanted. Apparently, a man they’re calling John Doe was found out in the woods somewhere and he was brought to the hospital with a gunshot wound. The sheriff assured me that the wound is not life threatening, but by the time he was found, it had gotten infected. When they brought him in, he was running a fever and appeared confused and unable to give them any information. He had no identification of any kind on him, which is why they’ve labeled him a John Doe. So listen now,” Coleman said, hunching forward and taking her hand, “it may not be J.D. The sheriff said they’re getting the infection under control, and the man in question is telling them that he’s a private investigator, but the sheriff said he didn’t know what a private investigator would be doing in their neck of the woods, so he’s not inclined to believe him.”

  “Why not?” Lloyd demanded. “If it is J.D., he’d tell ’em his name and everything, wouldn’t he?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you,” Coleman said, somewhat hesitantly, “what I just told you had to be pulled out of the sheriff—he was not the most cooperative person I’ve ever dealt with. I don’t know what’s going on up there, but the sheriff said that in the absence of proper identification, the man stays on the books as a John Doe.”

  “Maybe it’s not him,” Hazel Marie said. “J.D. didn’t say anything about going out in the woods, so it could be somebody else. Couldn’t it?”

  “It could,” Coleman said, nodding. “Because if it is J.D., I’d think he’d be calling you.”

  “No,” I chimed in, “there’re no telephones in the rooms in that hospital. That’s what the telephone operator told me. So if he can’t get out of bed, he can’t call. And if they’ve taken his cell phone, he’s up a creek.” That didn’t come out right, so I added, “As far as getting in touch with us, I mean.”

  That brought things to a standstill as we all wondered what kind of hospital it was. At that point, James reappeared to say that breakfast was just about cold and we’d better come on and eat. Lillian guided Hazel Marie to the dining room while she protested that
she couldn’t eat and Lillian telling her she had to. Lloyd, looking wan and worried, held his mother’s hand and went with them.

  I lingered behind with Coleman, wanting to hear what he really knew after having spoken with the Crayton County sheriff. “Did you tell her everything?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, because there was no reason to worry her any more than she already is. But that sheriff has one thing on his mind, and he’s not going to cooperate until he’s convinced he’s wrong. I’d sure like to get up there and shake some sense into him.”

  “Well, what in the world, Coleman?”

  “Apparently, they’re having a lot of trouble with marijuana growers and meth labs back in the hills around there, and he thinks this John Doe may be part of some of that. And,” Coleman went on, looking down at me, “if it’s not J.D., he may be right. Anyway, he’s keeping this ‘so-called private cop,’ as he called him, under wraps until his identity is confirmed and the feds can get there.”

  “Oh, Coleman, this could be bad. You and I know that Mr. Pickens is not growing or making anything. Looks like that sheriff would realize that a private investigator would be working with him, not with a bunch of crooks.”

  “Sounds like the sheriff may have more than he can handle,” Coleman said. “And he doesn’t want one of ’em to slip away from him.”

  “Miss Julia?” Lillian stuck her head in the doorway. “Y’all come on an’ eat something. Maybe Miss Hazel Marie will, too.”

  As we walked in, Hazel Marie was sitting at the table, staring at the food on her plate. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, her hands gripping the tabletop. Then she sprang up from her chair. “I do know, too. I’m going up there. It’s him, I know it is, and he needs me. I’ve got to get there. Lloyd, will you call and see if I can get a plane? I’ve got to get ready. But no, maybe I better drive. I might need the car.” She was beginning to flutter around, waving her hands, her eyes darting about the room, trying to plan a trip when nobody knew a destination.

  “Wait, Hazel Marie,” I said. “Honey, what’re you going to do about the babies?”

  “Oh,” she said, stopping as if she’d suddenly remembered them. “Well, I’ll just take them with me.”

  “You won’t be any help to Mr. Pickens,” Lillian said, “if you got them two babies with you. So I’ll go an’ help with ’em, but Latisha have to go, too.”

  “That won’t work, Lillian,” I said. “Maybe we can keep them.”

  “No,” Hazel Marie said, sinking down on the chair again. “I can’t leave them. I can’t leave them and I can’t take them, and I want to go but I need to stay here.” And she covered her face and began crying again.

  We all looked at one another, waiting for someone to come up with a suggestion. Then Hazel Marie gathered herself and asked, “Coleman, what do you think? You think it’s J.D.?”

  “I don’t know, Hazel Marie,” he said. “I wish I could go for you and make sure, but we’ve got deputies on vacation and I can’t leave right now. But if you can hold on and we haven’t learned anything more, I think I can get away about Wednesday. As for who the man is, the only other thing the sheriff said was that whoever it is can cuss a blue streak. Said as a church-going man, he’d never heard such language in his life. Does that sound like J.D. to you?”

  “No,” Hazel Marie said, looking up with hope in her eyes, “No, it doesn’t. J.D. is the sweetest-talking man in the world. It can’t be him, I’m sure of it.” She wiped her face with the edge of her robe, then said, “At least I think I am.”

  I looked at Lillian, then glanced at Lloyd. None of us said a thing, but I thought to myself, That settles it. If the man in West Virginia known as John Doe was able to offend even a backwoods sheriff with his descriptive language, then he was indeed J. D. Pickens, P.I.

  While everyone in the room reassured Hazel Marie, I slipped out into the hall and over to Sam’s old office, which Hazel Marie was now using as a den. The telephone was on a side table, so I walked over to it, picked it up and, hoping my memory wouldn’t let me down, dialed a number.

  “Etta Mae?” I asked, as a sleep-filled voice answered. “How would you like to go to West Virginia today?”

  Chapter 11

  “What?”

  “I’m driving to West Virginia today,” I told her, “and I need you to go with me—not just for the company, but for your nursing ability. Can you be ready in about an hour?”

  “What?” she asked again.

  “Wake up, Etta Mae. This is a job offer because you’ll be on duty. So call that woman you work for and tell her the same arrangement will apply now as the one we had when you took care of Hazel Marie. You can let her know that I expect to be back here on Monday, Tuesday at the latest, so you won’t be gone long. Oh, Etta Mae, I do apologize,” I belatedly said. “I’ve gotten ahead of myself because you don’t know what’s going on.”

  “No, ma’am, I don’t. Did you say you’re going to West Virginia?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m going to see about Mr. Pickens.” Then I went on to tell her the whole story, including Hazel Marie’s anguish at not being able to leave the babies, Coleman’s schedule that would keep him from going right away and Sam’s being halfway around the world. “It’s down to you and me, Etta Mae. I figure he’s going to need some nursing care, which is where you come in. Between the two of us, we’ll get him back here where he can be taken care of. That bunch up there, starting with the sheriff, does not inspire the least bit of confidence, especially with Mr. Pickens suffering a gunshot wound in a hospital room that doesn’t even have a telephone.”

  “Gunshot wound! Good grief, is he hurt?”

  “I expect he is, Etta Mae, as I would be if somebody had shot me. But apparently, it’s not all that serious, although it’s serious enough to keep him in the hospital. That’s why it’s vital that we get up there and see what’s going on.”

  There was silence on the line for a few seconds, then Etta Mae said, “Ah, Miss Julia, I hate to tell you, but I’ve never nursed a gunshot wound. I might not be much use to you.”

  “Don’t worry about that. You’re more capable than any of us. Besides, you can bring your nursing book and read up on it as we go. Will you do it, Etta Mae? I really need you.”

  “Well, if you’re sure, of course I’ll go. This is the first weekend I’ve had off in a month, so it’ll be fun to have something to do.”

  I wasn’t too sure how much fun it would be, but I was grateful for her willingness to accompany me. She and I had been on a few other expeditions and she’d proved her worth many times over.

  “I’ll pick you up in about an hour,” I said. “Oh, and, Etta Mae, you won’t need to pack a lot, but be sure to bring your nurse’s uniform. Mr. Pickens might require special nursing care. And also, his doctor might be more willing to discuss his condition with a fellow professional than with me.”

  There was another long pause as she considered the request. Then, in a halting way, she said, “Okay.”

  After hanging up and looking at the time—almost eight—I went back into the dining room. Hazel Marie was stirring scrambled eggs around on her plate, but not eating any, while Lillian urged her to keep up her strength. Lloyd sat next to his mother, but he’d hardly eaten anything, either. His face was almost as white and drawn as hers.

  James stood in the door to the kitchen. “Miss Julia, you want some eggs? I can fix you some right now. Them on the table is already cold.”

  “No, thank you, James, I don’t have time to eat. Now listen, everybody,” I said as I stood by the table. “With Sam gone and Coleman held up here until later in the week, we have to make some plans on our own. So here’s what we’re going to do: I just spoke to Etta Mae Wiggins and she and I are leaving in about an hour to drive to West Virginia. We’re going to bring Mr. Pickens home, come that sheriff or high water.

  “Lillian, I want you and Latisha to stay here with Hazel Marie and help her, if you will. Lloyd, you’ll finish the school year
and help wherever you’re needed, and, James, I’m leaving them all in your care. Now, I’ve got to get home and get ready to go.”

  Everybody sat still for a minute, staring at me, then they all began talking at once, telling me I shouldn’t go and one of them should go with us and it was too long a trip for two women alone.

  “I want to go, Miss Julia,” Lloyd said. “I can help.”

  Lillian said, “You sure you know what you doin’?”

  But James’s face brightened after hearing the responsibility I’d given him. He drew himself up, straightened his shoulders, and went back into the kitchen. But Hazel Marie, who hadn’t said a word, rose from the table and put her arms around me.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against my shoulder. “Thank you with all my heart.”

  “There, there,” I murmured, slightly embarrassed by her display, but appreciative of it too. “Lloyd, if you’ve finished, I need you to come with me. While I pack, I want you to get on your computer and figure out how we should go, how long it will take and whatever else we’ll need.”

  “I can do that,” he said, getting to his feet. “Mama, I’ll be back in a little while.”

  As he and I started out the door, James came running out with a sack. “Here, Miss Julia. Here’s some bacon biscuits. You gonna be hungry ’fore long.”

  “Why, James, how thoughtful. Thank you so much. You watch over them now. I’m trusting you to do that.”

  He beamed, nodding his head. “They be safe with me, don’t you worry. But y’all be careful goin’ to whatever place you goin’ to.”

  When Lloyd and I got in the car to return to our house, he said wistfully, “I sure wish I could go. I’m awful worried about J.D.”

  “I know you are, sugar. And I’d take you if you didn’t have final exams and if we had room. But I’m planning to bring him home and he’ll need the whole backseat, most likely. I hope you can see that Etta Mae is the best one to go because she has experience with sick people.” I didn’t mention that she’d had no experience with shot people. Even so, she was the pick of the litter under these circumstances and better qualified than any of the rest of us.