You Believers

by Jane Bradley

  She sat there. “I don’t know where my daughter is, and it’s been over a month. Do you know how crazy that is?” I took her hand and gently pulled her out of the truck. Livy looked out at the blue sky, so wide and bright and perfect over the still water. “It’s a perfect reflection,” she said. “You can even see that little line of clouds reflected in the water. It’s hard to find water this clean. No wonder she came here.”

  I nodded. “It’s fed by local creeks. Every day in the summer a little blue line appears down there to the south and moves north. It’s a wave, and it breaks right here on this shore. And the wind pushing it comes along, wraps the town in a steady breeze. Sometimes you look out there and see the wind push a string of dark clouds from nowhere. And the lake gets rough. And that’s odd because at most it’s about seven feet deep. That water can tip a little fishing boat easy and give hell to the bigger ones.”

  “But it looks so calm.”

  I thought of Suck Creek. “Yeah, so people get careless. But if you go out in that water, you’d better keep your eye on the horizon and life jackets for everybody on board.” She stood there, looking out at the still water. I was watching the string of clouds out there. It was too early in the day yet for a storm.

  I started for the inn, and a great blue heron flew out over the lake. We watched to see if it would dive for a fish, but it just glided over the surface, then, with a thrust of wing, lifted and vanished into the distant trees. Livy took my arm, said, “Katy was a dreamer. Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. She always loved that movie. Since she was a girl she would sit outside, look at the sky, and dream. That’s what she did here.”

  I nodded and led the way across the gravel lot.

  She stopped, said, “I’ve got a feeling. I don’t like where this is going.”

  “You’re going to find your daughter,” I said as bravely as I could, but I was thinking, You’re about to walk through hell, Livy Baines, and you’re gonna need an asbestos cloak if you want to survive. She found strength in my words. All of a sudden she was leading the way, her head high and the purse swinging. She was going to find her daughter, and the world would just have to get out of her way.

  No Sympathy for the Devil Here

  The elevator door opened, making a hissing sound. Jesse stepped in and nodded at the nervous-looking man smiling from behind a big vase of flowers. The man pressed button number seven, even though it was already lit, then asked Jesse which floor he wanted. “Same,” Jesse said. “Maternity floor, right?”

  The man nodded. “I’m so excited I went down instead of up.”

  “Excuse me?” Jesse said.

  “I went to the basement because I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve got a new baby girl. Got my wife flowers.” He raised the vase toward Jesse. “Think these are good enough for a woman who came through ten hours’ labor?”

  Jesse caught the sweet, warm scent of the stargazer lilies. “Nice,” he said. He looked over the lilies, saw the roses, Japanese irises, baby’s breath, the works. His mom had taught him the names for these things.

  “Real nice. Must’ve set you back.”

  “It’s my first.” The man’s eyes caught the stuffed dog Jesse had forgotten he was squeezing in his hand. “And you?’

  “I’m just here to see a friend’s kid. He named him after me.”

  The elevator stopped at the fourth floor. A woman stepped in, had on some kind of uniform, not a nurse but something. “I know where you two are going,” she grinned. She smelled like strawberries, fake strawberries. Jesse hated those sweet, sticky smells women wore. The man was doing that smiley thing again and telling her about his baby. Jesse reached to punch the close button and bumped the man’s arm. He looked up as if expecting an apology, and Jesse noticed his bloodshot eyes. The doors hissed shut, and the girl and the man backed away a little.

  “Sorry.” Jesse gave a quick smile. “Guess I’m excited too. I didn’t mean to bump your flowers, man.” The girl pushed for floor five. Just one floor up. “Guess you don’t like taking stairs.”

  “No, I should, but . . .” She gave a little shrug. She had fat cheeks and black hair and big, puffy-looking boobs.

  “But what?” Jesse said.

  That shrug again. “I guess I’m lazy.”

  “Yeah, everybody’s lazy these days,” he said. The door opened, and Jesse watched her get off. As the doors closed, he shook his head at the man. “By the time she’s forty, she’ll have an ass wide as a kitchen table.”

  The man went blank for a bit, then grinned. “Yeah. A pretty face, though.”

  “Yeah.” He checked out the man’s clothes. Dockers, blue oxford shirt. Nice jacket thrown over one of his arms carrying the flowers, dressed like money, but there were sweat stains at his armpits. “I bet you have a pretty wife.”

  The man beamed. “I have a beautiful wife. And now we have a perfect baby.”

  “You sound like my friend Zeke. He’s crazy about his wife. He’s a tough guy, and now he talks all goofy about that kid of his.”

  “Yep, love makes you goofy. I got her a diamond bracelet in my jacket pocket here. That’s how goofy I am.” Jesse eyed the bulge in the pocket. Careless. If someone got on at the sixth floor, it’d be cake to boost it. The man kept talking. “My wife, she’s just a little thing, in labor ten hours. Looked like it was killing her, but the doctor said she was all right. She didn’t look all right to me. I’m standing there, tears running down my face, and she’s panting and sweating and making these awful sounds.”

  Sure enough, the sixth floor. Bing. Jesse stepped back as a nurse pushed an old woman in a wheelchair in. Good, Jesse thought, moving behind the man with the diamonds in his pocket. He looked down, saw the urine bag hooked to the old woman’s chair.

  The woman looked up with a face all wrinkled and spotted, but she had bright blue eyes. “What pretty flowers you have there.” She had a voice like bells. How could such a sound come from a shriveled thing?

  The man smiled down at her. “My wife just had a baby girl. She’s wonderful.”

  The woman just stared at the flowers. Her eyes fluttered closed. She breathed, looked up, said, “I always loved the stargazers best.”

  “You like those?” The man bent to her, the jacket pocket brushing Jesse’s thigh. He was set to drop the toy dog, have an excuse to bend and reach, but the man turned to him. “Could you do me a favor?”

  Jesse shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Pick one of those lilies out for this lady. My wife won’t mind.”

  He looked at the flowers, the man who couldn’t stop smiling. The old lady looked up at him. Jesse picked a lily, gave it to her. She took it with both hands. “Why, thank you.” She tapped the nurse’s hand. “My husband used to say the world’s going to hell in a hand basket, and sometimes I’d start to believe him, and then there’d be something like this: A sweet young man gives an old lady a flower for no good reason.” She was smiling up at Jesse.

  “It’s from him,” Jesse said, pointing to the man beside him, but the woman kept smiling at Jesse. “It’s from him,” Jesse yelled.

  And bing, the seventh floor. Before the door could whoosh all the way open, he was out. He stood there, saw a doctor go by, a cop standing at the nurses’ station. They looked at him, and that old metal feeling pinged in his gut. The man with the flowers brushed by him. “Sorry about the flower, man,” Jesse said.

  “That’s fine,” he called without looking back. “It was worth it to see that smile on her face.”

  Jesse watched him hurry down the hall, the flowers bouncing, the jewelry box still flapping in his coat pocket. He thought, Shit, Zeke would have bought that bracelet. He saw the cop coming toward him. Jesse put a lost look on his face, held the toy dog like a bunch of flowers, and moved to check a room number. The cop wasn’t a cop, just a security guard. Zeke had said there would be guards, to be cool, they were just there to protect the babies. Jesse gave him a nod. “Could you tell me . . .”

  The guard kept goi
ng. “The nurses’ station there, they’ll get you to the room you need.”

  “Thanks.” Jesse knew the room number, but he headed for the nurses’ station. He could feel the guard standing at the elevator door, watching him. When the nurse looked up at him, he smiled, held up the toy dog. “Nicki Lynn Daniels’s room?” He gave his sweetest smile, said, “Please.”

  She smiled back, pointed down the hall. He said, “Thank you, ma’am,” just the way his mom would like, and headed down the hall.

  Just ahead, he saw a cluster of people gawking at a window. Jesse knew it was the baby showcase. A crowd was staring with goofy smiles. He went toward the babies, looked in. The babies looked all squinched and pink. Most were sleeping, swaddled in blankets and little knit caps on their heads, pink and blue. One just lay on its back, looking up at a light. One was crying on its belly, kind of rooting at the sheet. Up front and to the left was one lying on its back. It was more yellow than pink, had a pointy kind of head. But its face looked almost like a man’s, and it seemed to study the gawking crowd. It was bigger than the rest, a little blond fuzz on its head. Jesse scanned the little cribs to look at the others. Yep, the big one staring out had to be Zeke’s. The rest just slept, all soft and pink-looking, like the little baby rats he’d once found in an alley.

  A hand landed hard and heavy on his shoulder, squeezed. Jesse jumped. “Whoa, now.” It was Zeke. He kept his hand there on Jesse, holding him still. “You’re supposed to be smiling when you look at my boy in there. And you got that to-hell-with-you look on your face. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Just a fuck of a day.” The crowd turned, moved like a single body just a little away from him.

  Zeke took his arm, pulled him a few steps. “Language, son.”

  Jesse saw another security guard coming down the hall. He gripped the dog, looked toward the babies. “What’s with all the guards?”

  “I told you. People boost babies like anything else.” Zeke was looking in the window, his face all lit up. “You see him?” He leaned over Jesse, his strength, his weight, moving like a mountain.

  Jesse nodded. “He’s the big one down front on the left, right?”

  Zeke just grinned, leaned in, staring at his boy. “Like you had to guess, says ‘Daniels’ right there on his crib.”

  “I didn’t notice the name tags. I just looked for the big, good-looking one.”

  Zeke turned, slapped his shoulder. “He’s big, but I know he’s funny-looking. That’s from being squeezed too long in the birth canal.”

  Jesse stepped away. “I don’t want to hear that shit, man.”

  Zeke turned back to the window. The crowd had cleared. “Little guy’s liver is catching up. The doc says that happens. He’ll be fine in a couple days.” He grinned at his baby. There’d be no rushing Zeke away from his kid. Jesse felt that queasy feeling in his gut, felt the gurgling. Fuck, he thought. He stepped toward Zeke. “Anywhere I can get a Coke around here?” Zeke looked at him, then down at the dog. Shook his head. “Sure, I can get you a Coke. Even get you some crushed ice to go with it.” Again that squeeze of his hand on the shoulder. “You wait right here. They’re getting Nicki Lynn ready for visitors. I’ll get you a Coke, and we can go in.”

  Jesse watched Zeke head to the nurses’ station. Every one of the women looked up, kind of sparked at the sight of him. Jesse thought he could part the damned sea with that walk of his. The water would just pull back and let him pass. With over three hundred pounds of muscle, he moved like a cat. With that blond hair and blue eyes and teeth like something out of a commercial, he could get any girl he wanted. But he didn’t screw around. He loved Nicki Lynn. Jesse watched as a woman stood nodding and laughing at whatever Zeke said, and then she turned away to get his Coke. The others smiled at him. He was probably talking about his baby and Nicki Lynn. Jesse looked back at the babies. Little Jesse was doing something with his fingers like he was counting or something thoughtful; he seemed to be staring at Jesse. Jesse leaned closer to the glass, sent his thoughts at the kid: You know something, don’t you? You’re Zeke’s baby; you ain’t stupid. You know who I am.

  He jumped when Zeke gave a little slap to his back. “You downright skittish, son. Babies make you nervous?” He gave the Coke to Jesse, led the way down the hall.

  Jesse hurried to catch up, walk beside him. “Things are just kind of hot right now. I need to sell some shit, get out of town.”

  Zeke stopped. “So that’s what you’ve got in that backpack. Can’t you show any more respect for Nicki Lynn and my boy?”

  Jesse looked up at Zeke. His mouth was grinning, but his eyes were ice. “I respect, man. I do. It’s just some shit going down, and I’ve got to get out of town.”

  Zeke shook his head, grabbed the stuffed dog. He gave it a quick smell, kept walking, swinging the dog at his side. He stood at the closed door, gave a little knock.

  Nicki Lynn called, “That you, Zeke?”

  “Wait here,” Zeke said. “I’ll make sure she’s ready.”

  Jesse sipped his Coke, told his gut to stay calm. He wondered why Zeke had snatched the dog. He wondered about the rich bitch, how in the hell she could have gotten loose. He shouldn’t have drunk the booze. Then he had to get the shits. He heard Nicki Lynn and Zeke talking inside, couldn’t make out what they were saying. Zeke might be pissed, but he wouldn’t pass on the Rolex and pearls. And Zeke always had plenty of cash on him for just this kind of thing. With the money to drive all night Jesse figured he’d be in Atlanta by morning. Hook up with Johnny from juvy. He’d know where to drop the car. They’d get him a fake ID, and he’d lay low a while.

  Zeke opened the door, gave a nod, and let him in. It wasn’t like any other hospital room Jesse had seen. Soft lamps, and on the table was a bowl of fruit and cheese and crackers. Nicki Lynn was propped up with colored pillows and a quilt.

  “Nice digs, Nicki Lynn.” Jesse stood at the end of her bed. He realized he was holding an empty cup. “You got a trash can around here?”

  Zeke took the cup, dropped it in the trash. Jesse saw that he was still holding the dog. “The polite thing to do is ask how Nicki Lynn is. To ask about the baby. Maybe say you saw the baby, and he’s the most handsome little guy you ever laid eyes on.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse said. “Sorry. I got things on my mind, Nicki Lynn. How you feeling?”

  “Just fine,” she said. “Ain’t our boy something?”

  “Smartest-looking one in the bunch,” Jesse said. “And I ain’t kidding. He’s got Zeke’s way of looking at things. Can babies that young see?”

  “They see what they need to, I guess.” She smiled. She looked like a little girl with no makeup on. Couldn’t weigh much over a hundred pounds. Her eyes went back to Zeke.

  “I’ve never seen a hospital room done up like this.”

  Nicki Lynn sipped from her cup of ice water. “They do it up now for new moms. The idea is not to make you feel like you’re in the hospital.” She smiled at Zeke. “And Zeke here, he had to make sure I had my favorite pillows and my granny’s quilt.”

  “I don’t know what you do to Zeke, but he sure loves fussing over you,” Jesse said.

  “She loves me, Jesse boy,” Zeke said. Zeke went to her bedside, used a hand as big as her face to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. She had shiny black hair, and skin so white and smooth it didn’t look real, and big blue eyes.

  “What’s on your mind, Jesse?” Zeke said.

  He looked around the room, saw vases and vases of flowers. He adjusted the strap of his backpack. “I guess I’m glad I didn’t bring flowers. I thought of bringing flowers. When you get out, I’ll bring you flowers.”

  “That’s all right, Jesse,” Nicki Lynn said.

  Zeke gave a little cough. “Thought you said you needed to leave town.”

  Jesse looked down at the floor. This wasn’t going right. But he’d have to try to sell something to Zeke.

  Nicki Lynn shook her foot under the covers to get his attention. �
��You all right, Jesse? Zeke, he doesn’t look so good to me.”

  Zeke came over and with that big hand of his lifted Jesse’s chin. Only man in the world could touch him like that was Zeke. He’d make a good daddy, but now Zeke was squinting, looking over Jesse’s face. “Something’s changed,” he said. “Something’s changed from the last time I saw you.”

  “Maybe he’s hungry,” Nicki Lynn said. “There’s some cheese and crackers over there, Jesse.”

  “No, thank you. I’m all right.” He slipped off the backpack, set it on a chair. “I got some stuff here, Zeke. Thought maybe you’d be interested.” He reached in, pulled out the Rolex.

  “This ain’t a place for business, son. You put that shit away. We got family could walk in here any minute.”

  He pulled out the pearls. “Wouldn’t Nicki Lynn like these pearls?”

  Zeke grabbed his wrist. Jesse dropped the pearls. They made a little clattering sound on the floor. As he scooped them up, he heard Zeke breathing.

  “All right, man, all right.” He zipped the bag, stood. “I just needed some cash to get on the road.”

  Zeke shoved the stuffed dog in his face “You stole this, didn’t you?” He smelled it quickly, shoved it at Jesse’s face. “Smells like some girl, don’t it? A real clean kind of girl, not your usual type. You fucked with her, Jesse.” He looked at the dog. “See, it looks new but got a little dust in the fur. It’s been sitting on a shelf for a long time. You jacked this shit and tried to bring some girl’s old stuffed dog to my boy.”

  Nicki backed up in her bed. “Just have him leave, Zeke.”

  Zeke grabbed the bag, unzipped it, looked in. “Top-of-the-line shit here. Rolex, pearls, and that’s Lalique, man, you got this . . .” He straightened, looked dead-on at Jesse. “You did that girl in Land Fall, didn’t you? I should have guessed it when I saw it on the news. Your family lives in Land Fall.”

  Jesse reached for his backpack. “I’m leaving, man. I can see this wasn’t a good idea.”

  Nicki was crying now. “Just make him leave, Zeke.”