by Liz Marvin
Everyone was as careful as could be but inside an hour their fingers were stained deep purple. Betty could not remember a better time berry picking in her entire life but she noticed Addie and Achmed were having an even better time. At one point she nudged Clarise and nodded at the budding couple just to get some confirmation from her best friend. Clarise rolled her eyes, turned her back on Betty and went back to picking berries. Sometimes silence is the best way to say “mind your own business”. Betty took the hint.
“We’ve got enough for three pies!”
“Good because the state police destroyed your last one.”
“Just as well, it wasn’t that good anyway. I used brown sugar instead of honey and dried mint instead of fresh.”
“I - we can buy mint!” Achmed cut in, “I mean, we don’t have a lot of time to go hunting for a mint patch.”
Addie laughed. “Mint grows wild here. There’s no trouble finding it, it’s not finding it that’s a problem!” She was suddenly serious “But the taste is, the taste is what makes honey sweet and berries mellow and if the honey doesn’t come from the berry’s flowers and mint from the same earth it just can’t taste the same.” Unconsciously she had taken both Achmed’s hands in hers. Just as unconsciously Achmed held on.
“Do I look like that around Bill?” Betty whispered to Clarise. “Sometimes” her friend answered “I bet Wes and I do too.” Betty grinned and headed for the car. “Come on, I think there’s some decaf coffee and maybe one low carb wrap left.”
The two friends kept each other honest. Neither looked back until they heard the gunfi
17. Chapter 16
The first shot hit Betty’s berry basket. She dropped it and ran, zigzagging toward the house and then the limousine. A shot pinged near her foot and she dove for the front steps, rolling to a stop at the front door.
Clarise was right behind her, breathless but still clutching her berry basket. She pressed her back into the wall.
“Are you okay?”
“No! Somebody is shooting at us!”
“I know that! Are you hurt?”
“No. You have your cell phone?”
“In the car. You?”
“Car. Let’s get inside.” Betty reached up and opened the door. Clarise jumped through and Betty crawled in after her.
More shots rang out. The women crouched, huddled together, hugging each other. “Where’s Addie and Achmed?” Betty asked just as the couple burst through the front door. Betty and Clarise screamed in unison.
“Hush.” Addie said. “Either of you shot?”
“No. You?”
“Just out of breath.” Achmed said, lowering himself to the floor. “I have never liked being shot at.” He crawled to the front door and looked at the car. “Do you think we can make it?”
“Not without the car getting shot up and us with it.” Addie answered. “You all just stay put and stay down.”
Addie disappeared into the house.
“Who’d have thought she would be the calm and competent one?” Betty asked.
“I did.” Achmed answered. No one answered or argued.
Addie returned a short time later with an ancient flintlock musket, a powder horn and a leather pouch. A gunshot shattered a window. Betty, Clarise and Achmed hugged the floor. Addie continued loading the musket.
“That shot came from the back woods. I’m going upstairs. Mister O’Rielly kindly take off your shirt and drape it over the broken chair in the dining room. Then one of you push it in front of the kitchen window. See if you can draw fire so I know where to shoot. Keep your heads down.”
She started upstairs. Achmed rolled onto his back and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“I’ll get the chair.” Betty said and crawled into the dining room. She froze when another shot rang out. “Whoever is doing that is beginning to annoy me.”
“I was annoyed after the first shot.” Clarise said. She had put aside her basket and was clutching the leather pouch and powder horn. “You think I should take these to Addie?”
“She’ll only need one shot.” Achmed said, handing his shirt to Betty.
Betty rose up enough to put the shirt over the chair back. She pushed the chair across the wood floor of the dining room and into the kitchen then spied a broom beside the door. She used it to push the chair to the window. Just a bit of fabric in front of the glass and a shot rang out, shattering the glass and putting a hole in the sleeve. The bullet lodged in the wall beside Betty.
Another shot rang out, this one from inside the house.
Then silence.
Addie walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. She set the gun beside the door, picked up the broom and started sweeping. Betty was still seated on the floor. Addie looked at her.
“Did - did you hit him?” Betty had to know.
“Not sure. Might have winged him but I sure scared him. Will you take Achmed his shirt please.” Then she noticed the hole in the sleeve. “I should mend this first.”
Betty stood up and took the shirt. “I’m guessing the hole will wait.”
On wobbly feet Betty managed to reach the door. She looked again at the bullet hole in the wall and stopped. She needed to lean on the door jamb to keep from falling. “Addie, thank you.”
Addie stopped sweeping long enough to lay a hand on Betty’s shoulder. “We should get the berries and head back to town. Tell those cute men at the police station about this.”
Betty steeled herself. Patted Addie’s hand without looking and went to find Achmed.
Achmed and Clarise were in the car, both on their cell phones. Achmed hung up and happily accepted his shirt until he noticed the bullet hole. Betty realized uncomfortably that the shirt probably cost more than her entire outfit.
“Addie says she can mend that.” Betty promised and Achmed clutched the shirt to his breast.
“I’d bet my life she can. But she won’t. I’ll wear this shirt as it is and I’ll keep it just this way for the rest of my life. Is she all right?”
Betty laughed. “All right? She’s sweeping up glass in the kitchen. Says we should go get our berry baskets and head back to town.”
Achmed was putting on his shirt as he jumped up the steps and into the house.
Clarise crawled out of the car. “The cavalry is on its way. Bill is upset and Wes is downright furious. They don’t like us getting shot at either.”
The two friends, arms around each other, climbed the steps and made their way to the dining room just in time to spot Achmed, his arms around Addie, kissing passionately.
They reversed course as silently and quickly and were outside again before they dared take a breath.
“Let’s see about those berry baskets.” Betty said leading the way.
“Berry baskets. Excellent idea.” Clarise agreed. “But I think I’ll just leave mine in the house for now.”
Addie’s basket was sitting upright and full to overflowing. Achmed’s basket lay on its side, half its contents spilled out on the ground. Betty and Clarise carefully retrieved only the whole undamaged berries.
Betty’s basket and most of the fruit was ruined but they recovered enough berries to fill Achmed’s basket to overflowing too. They reached the house just as the first state patrol car arrived, lights flashing but siren silent.
The patrolmen opened both doors and crouched behind them, weapons drawn. Achmed and Addie, arms around each other’s waists, stood in the doorway.
“You all can calm down. He’s gone.” Addie called out serenely.
The cops looked over Addie and Achmed, then noticed Betty and Clarise carrying berry baskets. They looked at each other, stood up and holstered their sidearms.
“We heard there was a shooting.” The patrolman who was driving spoke up.
“There’s a bullet lodged in the kitchen wall. Probably one in the dining room somewhere and a few others scattered about the field.” Betty answered. “Addie managed to discourage them.”
Moments later the cavalry re
ally did arrive. A veritable fleet of police vehicles from every branch led by Bill with Wes bringing up the rear.
18. Chapter 17
Achmed and Addie were in the Crawford family kitchen putting the finishing touches on their pies and arguing about how they’d present the recipe at the fair the next day. Achmed wanted about a half hour presentation with a host of short cuts. Addie was adamant; she wouldn’t show people the recipe at all.
“This recipe is too hard to do on your own if you don’t know what you’re doing. You show people this they’ll try it and they’ll poison themselves and die. I won’t be a party to that.”
“Well we have to show them something!”
“Here. Close your eyes and taste this.”
Achmed closed his eyes and let Addie feed him. The taste was subtle ambrosia. A mix of berries, like strawberry, blackberry, blueberry with a hint of cherry all rolled into one with an almost invisible highlight of honey and mint. Rich and subtle were the words that came to mind and then in a flash he knew what he had to do. He opened his eyes grabbed Addie by the shoulders and kissed her.
“You are a genius but so am I.”
“Modest too” Addie rejoined, grinning like a schoolgirl who’s just been kissed.
“We need strawberries and blackberries and blueberries and we’ll have to get the mixture just right.”
“We’ll have to cook - or partially cook - all the berries separately. They’ll have different cook times.”
“Which will allow us to try different mixes until we match your incredible pie!”
“Do you think you can do it?”
Achmed rubbed his eyes. “No. But I think we can.”
~
Betty was seated at the family’s dining room table with her parents. They weren’t eavesdropping but it was hard not to overhear the goings on in the kitchen. The mood at the table was decidedly more somber.
“Well I guess I should be grateful you’re not hurt or dead.” Mary sniffed “Yet.”
“I’m sorry mom” was all Betty could say. It was all she had been saying for the past hour. There was no sense in arguing, trying to explain or make excuses. Her mother was scared and hurt and those three words were the only ones that helped. A little.
Clarise had gone with Wes back to the fair. While he was away someone had smashed or stolen half the cameras at the fairgrounds. The cameras were cheap, wireless and easy to replace but Wes had to go over the video files and look for clues while Bill interviewed fair goers in hopes someone had seen something.
That left Betty alone with her parents who were none too pleased to hear Betty had been shot at for the third time in less than a year.
“One of these days whoever is out there isn’t going to miss.”
“I’m sorry mom.”
Her dad jumped in. “Betty we know it isn’t your fault. Your mother and I just worry about you. We always have and always will.”
“Because we love you.”
“I know I know and I love you too but I am not the only person who got shot at today.”
“We understand. So how’s your blood sugar? Have you eaten anything?”
Betty massaged her forehead. She hadn’t eaten since the ride out to Addie’s farm and that had been nearly twelve hours ago. She didn’t want to tell them. Thankfully the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” Betty leaped up, relieved for the interruption.
She glanced at her parents before opening the door. They were both clutching the table, fearful about who or what was waiting on the other side. Her heart went out to them. Living in fear was never good. Not for them and not for her. In the past few years she had lived with the fear of losing her job and never working again, the fear of moving home, broke and in debt, the fear of starting her own business, the fear of falling in love, the fear of a disease that could easily consume and destroy her if she let it and worst of all the fear of being exposed.
Yes, she thought, I’m used to living with fear. Now it’s spreading and I won’t let it take over our lives. I may be afraid but I won’t let it stop me from doing anything. The doorbell rang again, startling her from her reverie. Her parents were still clutching the dining room table, more concerned than ever.
Betty steeled herself, smiled and opened the door. Danbey Johnson was there still dressed in a dark suit even at ten o’clock at night.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you. I saw the lights and - and I was told I could find Miss Beurey here. I heard she had some troubles.”
“She’s in the kitchen. Come in. I’ll get her. We’re just having coffee would you like a cup?”
Betty led him in, took his hat and coat and was happy to observe he was unarmed. “This is my mom and dad, Chet and Mary. Folks, this is Danbey Johnson.”
She left them to get acquainted and ran for the kitchen. Adeline was stirring two pots, one with each hand while Achmed rinsed cans of pie filling, pouring the warm water over strainers filled with frozen blackberries and strawberries. There were open cans of cherry and blueberry. Addie tasted the cherry.
“Still too sweet. What about a squirt of lemon?” She held out the spoon to Achmed who sampled and made a face.
“We won’t be using honey that’s for sure. Give the lemon a try.” He held out a plastic bottle of lemon juice shaped like a lemon. She took it with two fingers and eyed it with distrust. She opened the bottle and sniffed suspiciously, then tasted, sighed, shook her head and squirted into the cherry mixture, tasted, added some more and then moved on to the blueberries. She added freshly chopped mint to both pans, tasted, and added a few grains of black pepper. Achmed stopped and stared, reached over, tasted and nodded his approval.
“Perfect. This will work.”
“The frozen berries will be fine just adding them at the last minute.”
“I’ll puree the cherries and strawberries; you add the blackberries to the blueberry.”
They worked together perfectly and unconsciously. They didn’t notice her or, really, each other. Betty leaned against the door jamb and enjoyed the show. The cherries went into a blender with the strawberries, the blackberries were added and stirred into the blueberries and immediately taken off the heat.
They mixed small amounts together, tasted, argued, mixed again and again until suddenly they both stopped.
“Four cups blueberry and blackberry mix to one and one eighth cup strawberry cherry mix.”
Achmed was scribbling on a notepad. “And all the ingredients can be bought any grocery store in the country.”
“Except the mint which I found in the back yard.”
“Can’t be helped. They’ll use dried mint no matter what we do.”
Betty coughed. “Addie, Mister Johnson is here to see you. He’s in the dining room. Could we serve ice cream with topping?”
“You go on, Addie, I’ll help Betty serve.”
Addie wiped her hands on her dress, brushed her hair back from her face nervously and left the kitchen.
“Any idea what he wants?”
“Not a clue. I’m just glad he’s unarmed.”
Achmed gave a harsh bark of a laugh and opened the freezer. He took out regular and sugar free vanilla ice cream. Betty found the bowls.
“It is sad you feel like you have to check for weapons” Achmed spoke quietly as if he feared being overheard “but I know that feeling. I live with fear. Sometimes real, sometimes just remembered. Sometimes imagined. Doesn’t matter which kind it is I face it when I have to and sometimes it overwhelms me.”
Betty laid a hand on his shoulder. “Fear is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Achmed looked at her. “I know but my heart does not. Did you see Addie today? Did you watch her?”
Betty smiled and thought about saying not as much as you but resisted the urge. “I did. She wasn’t afraid because she had a plan of action and somehow knew just what to do. When she left the room just now she was plenty scared.”
“Then we should join her.”
“She’ll be fine. Thank
s for thinking of me this morning and now too.”
“I just hope someday you’ll stop being ashamed of your condition. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Neither do you.” Betty couldn’t meet his gaze. She was still ashamed of having type two diabetes and afraid of how people would judge her if they knew.
Achmed passed her two bowls, one with a spoon in it, along with a half dozen spoons. He managed five bowls on his own. “Yours has the spoon in it.”
Danbey was seated in silence beside Addie. Both looked uncomfortable and nervous. Even Betty’s parents were silent.
“Get ready for a taste delight.” Achmed crowed “What should we call it Addie? How about Lofton pie?”
Addie smiled “I’d like that.”
“What about Beurey pie?” Danbey asked.
“No” Addie answered “that would be vanity.”
“Miss Beurey I have something to tell you.”
“Shouldn’t we eat first? Before the topping cools and the ice cream melts?” Betty jumped in.
“No. I’ve waited long enough.” Danbey reached into his pocket. Achmed froze, five dishes of ice cream balanced on his arms. Danbey removed the silver framed picture of Adeline the great.
“This is my great great great aunt. Your great great-grandmother. I just found out and honestly I didn’t believe it at first but I have spent the day doing research and it’s true. You and I are family. In fact you’re the last family I have left.” Danbey’s voice caught. He looked as if he would burst into tears but he regained his composure.
“I know that our two branches had a falling out a long time ago but I want to, I need to reach out across the generations and ask if we might bring the family together again.”
Silence. Achmed finally found his voice. “Sir are you asking Adeline to marry?”
Danbey looked startled, then amused. He laughed. He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes. His laughter was infectious and soon everyone was laughing.
Betty served the ice cream. Eventually Danbey regained control.
“No. I am not asking a young woman who to be generous is half my age and who I just met to marry me.” More somberly he added “and my Marlee May is still too fresh in my heart for any such thoughts.”
