Carmen don’t never let me go outside on the street, not without getting a really bad whupping, that is. Sharista is nine years old and goes to real school. Her eyes are crossed, and Carmen says she’s retarded, but I think she’s real nice, and aside from Miss Molly, she’s my only friend.
Miss Molly says the reason Carmen and Larry fight all the time is “cause they be living in sin. I asked her what sin is (’cause I figure I must be living there too since we live in the same place). And she told me sin is real bad. So, I guess I was right, “cause it’s real bad here. But I don’t like living in sin none. And I sure wanna go live someplace else. Most of all I wanna go live with my mama, “cause I know she still loves me. And I miss her.
Miss Molly downstairs says that when I feel lonely I should pray to you. And that’s why I started all this praying business in the first place. But I’m just not sure you’re listening, God, “cause nothing never seems to change “round here—except for maybe getting worse is all, like tonight. And I’m also getting real worried that I won’t even get to go to school in the fall. Carmen keeps telling me that I’m too stupid and they don’t let stupid girls like me go to school (although that don’t make sense, “cause she says that Sharista is stupid too, and she goes to school). But Miss Molly says Carmen’s wrong and that I’m real smart. I think that maybe Carmen just don’t want to let me out of this stinking apartment—ever! I don’t know why she hates me so much. I try and be nice to her, but I know she hates me. And sometimes when she look at me, I think maybe she’d like to kill me. But then she wouldn’t get no more of that money that my mama sends her for me. God, can’t you please, please, pretty please with sugar on top, help me?
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE HOSPITAL WAS JUST where it had always been; south of town, just on the outskirts. Other than a new wing that really didn’t look all that new, nothing appeared to have changed since the last time she’d been there nearly thirty years before. She parked in the nearly empty parking lot and walked calmly into the emergency room. It did seem slightly modernized and updated since the time she’d broken her arm in eighth grade. That had been just before Jasmine’s family moved back to Mississippi. The two girls had been swimming down at the quarry and playing on the big rope swing, and somehow Judith had tangled her arm in the rope just as she was trying to drop off, which resulted in a loud snap and more pain than she cared to remember. But Jasmine had jumped into the water and rescued her, then run up to the road sopping wet, yelling and screaming until she finally flagged down an old pickup truck full of teenage boys who took them both to the hospital.
“Can I help you?”
Judith held up her throbbing hand still wrapped in the tea towel with blood just beginning to seep through. “I think I need stitches,” she explained somewhat sheepishly.
“Can you fill out these forms?” asked the woman, pushing a clipboard her way.
“Not very well. I have an insurance card in my purse. Maybe you could reach in there and get it for me.”
The woman fumbled through her purse until she found the wallet, then dug through the wallet until she located
the card. Just then, Judith began to feel slightly woozy. “I.. .uh…better sit down.” she said as the woman took the card back to the copy machine.
“Yeah, sure. Over there.”
Judith sat down and managed to fill out the form with a shaky hand. She could think of no one when she reached the spot for an emergency number, and so she left it blank. She stared for a long moment at that white, empty space. Who would she want contacted in the event of a real emergency? Her mother was out of the country, and she could think of no one else who would care very much. Finally, her pen still held in midair, she was interrupted by a nurse and then led to an examining room.
Perched on the paper-covered examining table, she felt just like that long ago six-year-old who’d stepped on a nail—in pain, but ashamed of her foolishness. Perhaps she had overreacted. Perhaps she didn’t even need stitches. But just as she opened the towel to take a peek, an elderly man came in. “How’s it look?” he asked in a cheerful voice.
“Not so good.” She looked up and made a face. “I think I might need some stitches.”
He examined the cut more closely. “Yep, I’ll have to concur with you there.”
She peered at him curiously. “Dr. Warner?”
He grinned over his bifocals. “Yes, that’s me. Do I know you?”
She smiled. “I used to be Judith McPhearson. Now I’m Judith Blackwell. You used to take care of me and my mom.”
“Of course, I remember you, Judith. How’s that arm?”
“Fine, thanks. I’m surprised you’re still practicing.”
He grinned. “I keep thinking I’m about to retire, but then I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if I do.” As he spoke, he cleaned the cut.
“So, you work at the hospital now?”
“Just one day a week. They’re a little shorthanded over here.”
“Do you still have your office in Cedar Crest?”
“Nooo, no, not for years. Now, hang on there, this’ll hurt a little.” He gave her a shot to numb her hand. “I live and practice in Jasper now.”
“Oh, that seems like a nice little town.”
He nodded, then began to stitch up her cut. “It’s a good place to live.”
Looking the other way, so she wouldn’t feel faint again, she breathed deeply and focused her eyes on a colorful poster of a tropical bird on the wall. “I just can’t believe I did this.”
“What’s that?”
“I mean cutting my hand on a stupid piece of glass. Pretty dumb.”
He laughed. “We all have accidents, Judith. Now, tell me what brings you into our neck of the woods anyway?”
She briefly explained about Jasmine, preparing herself in case he suddenly turned cold and harsh, as others had done. But to her pleased surprise he didn’t even blink. “Yes, I heard all about that. So sad.” He took another slow stitch. “So very sad.”
“And so shocking,” added Judith. “At least to me. I never would’ve thought she’d do something like that. But then I hadn’t seen her in years.”
“Hatred has such devastating results.”
“Hatred? But I never knew Jasmine to hate anyone or anything.”
“I don’t mean Jasmine personally. But those around her, you know.” He finished tying off the last stitch. “There, that ought to do you. But let’s have the nurse come and give you a tetanus booster and then wrap this up.”
“By those around her, do you mean her dad?” she asked, hoping to extract as much information as possible from the kind doctor.
He nodded sadly. “Yes, her father and others like him.” Then he lowered his voice. “There’s bad blood in this town, Judith. That’s why the wife and I finally had to move on. As much as we loved Cedar Crest and wanted to see things change, we could no longer sit by and watch what was happening all around us.”
“You mean the racist influence?” she whispered back.
He nodded grimly. “It’s like an incurable disease.”
“But couldn’t you and others like you do anything about it?”
“We really tried for a while. But we were outnumbered, and it turned into an uphill battle, often against forces we couldn’t even put our finger on. And then too many good people just started giving up and moving away—a number of them to Jasper. Finally, for the sake of our own loved ones, we decided to cut our losses and move on too. We figured perhaps in time things would either return to normal or the town would just dry up and blow away.”
“Well, it’s pretty dried up, but it hasn’t blown away yet.”
He shook his head, then glanced at his watch. “Too bad. And too bad about your friend Jasmine too. Well, I’ve got to get upstairs and check on a gallbladder patient now. But you take care, you hear, and stay away from sharp objects.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Doc. Good to see you again.”
After the nurse finished, Judith decid
ed to go to the main entrance and see if Aunt Lenore might possibly be in the hospital somewhere.
“No,” said the woman at the front desk, “I show no record of a Lenore Barker having been admitted.”
“Are there any nursing homes or elderly care centers in town?” asked Judith.
“Well, there’s Green Hill.” said the woman. “It’s over by the high school. It’s a home for elderly people who are still fairly mobile. And then there’s Crest View—that’s more of a full-care facility. It’s just down the road a ways.” She pointed south. “About two miles down the highway.”
Judith decided to stop by Crest View to look for Aunt Lenore. And if she had no luck there, she’d go on to check at Green Hill. She remembered when they’d first built that nursing home. It had been the talk of the town, and her mother had even considered moving Judith’s grandmother there at one time. When Judith reached Crest View, she wondered if it might not have been better to phone ahead first because the area was fenced and gated and didn’t look very welcoming. But the electronic gates opened automatically, so she just drove in. She inquired at the desk and a friendly girl searched on her computer and confirmed that a Miss Lenore Barker had indeed been admitted just last night.
“Oh, I’m so relieved to have found her,” exclaimed Judith. “We were having the best visit just yesterday, and I had no idea she was unwell. Do you think I could see her now?”
“I don’t know why not.”
“Do you know why she was admitted?”
“It says here that it was respiratory problems, but her condition is listed as good now. So she must be feeling better. She’s in room 34. Right down that hallway, then take a left.”
“Thank you.” Judith followed the directions, pleased at her good luck, and eager to see Aunt Lenore again. She could tell her that she had watered her garden for her. “Hello?” she called quietly as she entered the room. “Aunt Lenore?” She saw someone in a bed by the window, but other than the wisps of white hair, the lifeless, shrunken form didn’t seem anything like the lively woman she’d
seen just yesterday. Her eyes were closed, and she was so still that, at first, Judith thought she might actually have died. But finally she noticed the fragile chest moving up and down, but just barely. Obviously, she was in a deep sleep. Judith hated to wake her, but at the same time felt worried for Aunt Lenore’s welfare. Perhaps she was sicker than the girl at the front desk knew. Although a respirator was next to the bed, it was not hooked up.
Judith sat down in the chair next to the bed and wondered what to do. Finally, she simply took the old woman’s hand in her own and began to pray a silent, wordless prayer. She felt slightly strange doing so, but at the same time oddly compelled—as if someone other than herself were leading her. After a few minutes, she felt the frail, old hand give hers a slight squeeze, and she looked down to see Aunt Lenore’s eyes fluttering open. But she still looked groggy.
“Jasmine?” her speech sounded slightly slurred.
“No, Aunt Lenore, it’s Judith. Remember me?”
She nodded slightly. “Judith, yes, Judith.”
“Are you all right?”
“All right,” she repeated groggily.
“I was worried about you.”
Her eyes clouded. “Worried.”
“What happened? How did you get here?”
She frowned now and shook her head slightly, as if she were trying to keep herself awake. “Burt and...”
“Burt Morrison brought you here?”
“I want.. .to go home.”
“I know you do. But are you sick, Aunt Lenore?”
“Not sick...” She closed her eyes again and sighed. “Home.”
“I watered your garden and your flowers for you.”
Aunt Lenore’s grip tightened on Judith’s hand. “Good. Good girl.”
“How can I help you, Aunt Lenore?”
“Help me...” She repeated the words slowly, her eyes still closed.
“Yes, I want to help you. What can I do?”
“Help me.” This time it sounded like a real plea, but Judith couldn’t be sure.
“What can I do to help you?”
“Home....”
“I don’t think they will let me take you home, Aunt Lenore. But I can take care of your garden for you until you’re well enough to come home. And I can come visit you. Would that make you happy?”
She opened her eyes and this time looked a little less groggy. “Yes. Take care of my garden, Judith.”
“I will. And you must take care to get well.”
“Yes. Well.” She sighed deeply, then frowned as if she were struggling to think of something. “Judith?”
“Yes?”
“Birdhouse.” She closed her eyes again.
“Birdhouse?” Judith wondered if Aunt Lenore had possibly suffered a stroke or something that had diminished her mental abilities, and yet her facial features looked even and normal. Perhaps she was just heavily sedated. But why?
“Home.” Aunt Lenore pointed a wrinkled finger at Judith.
“You want me to go home?”
Her eyes lit up. “My home.”
“You want me to stay in your home?” Judith hoped she wasn’t reading too much into this conversation, but it was difficult to understand.
“Yes, stay—”
“What’s going on here?” demanded a sharp voice.
Judith turned to see a uniformed nurse walk in. “Hello, I’m—”
“Who let you in here?” demanded the nurse.
“I thought it was okay—”
“Well, it’s not. Miss Barker is to have no visitors. She’s in serious condition. We may have to move her to the hospital if she doesn’t improve soon.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. She’s a good friend and—”
“Makes no difference. You’ll have to go.”
Judith gave Aunt Lenore’s hand a last gentle squeeze. “Take care, Aunt Lenore. I’ll do what you say. And remember I love you.” Then feeling like a reprimanded child, she quickly made her way out of the room without looking back at the formidable nurse.
She drove slowly back toward town, thinking once again how she felt like Alice on the other side of the looking glass. Nothing made sense. And she was starting to feel like an emotional basket case again. Tired, confused, hungry, she didn’t even know where she would be sleeping tonight. She hardly knew what she was doing or even why. She felt as if she’d come on a fool’s errand and was only making matters worse by sticking around. It seemed that whatever emotional energy had originally propelled her along had long since run out, because she was running on empty now. At this moment, she felt so weary and exhausted, she didn’t even care if she slept in her car for the night. She considered just pulling off the road and napping—escaping the crazi-ness of everything for a while, and then perhaps figuring it all out later, if that were even possible.
With her bandaged hand throbbing, she parked on a wide shoulder next to the road, and for the third time that day, she prayed. But now all she could say was, “Help me, God. Please, help me.” And then she leaned her head back, and closing her eyes, tried to relax. She breathed in and out deeply and slowly, willing herself to think of nothing for the next few minutes.
When she finally opened her eyes she felt slightly better. She placed both hands on the steering wheel and suddenly remembered what Dr. Warner had said about Jasper—how it was a good place to be. The sign ahead said it was only twenty miles away. She knew she could get a decent meal there, and if she were lucky, perhaps even find a clean motel for the night, giving herself a chance to relax and regroup and figure some things out.
And as it turned out, she did better than that. She found the Pine Lodge Resort, located just outside of Jasper, complete with quiet riverside rooms, a lovely restaurant, swimming pool, and a hot tub. A little expensive, perhaps, but she could easily afford it. And she felt fairly certain she couldn’t afford not to. After a delicious meal, she fell into the comfortable
queen-sized bed, utterly spent. For the following day, she did little but relax, swim in the pool, eat good food, and sleep. But when she called Cedar View to check on Aunt Lenore, she was informed that Miss Barker was to have no visitors. The following day, Judith decided to return to Cedar Crest again. And her first stop was at Polly’s.
“Hey there, Judith.” said Polly. “I thought you’d gone home without even telling me goodbye.”
“No, I just moved over to the Pine Lodge Resort for a bit.”
“Wow, lifestyles of the rich and famous, eh?”
“I just needed a little rest.” Judith glanced around the shop to see only one woman, and she was under the dryer reading a magazine. “Got time for an appointment?”
“Appointment for what?” Polly frowned suspiciously, then lowered her voice. “You know I can’t really talk now.”
Judith smiled. “I just want a haircut.”
“A haircut? But you just had one.”
“I know. But now I want it all cut off. Short.”
“Short? But your hair is so pretty long.”
Judith shrugged. “I don’t care. I decided it’s just a bother like this. I want it cut like Jas—” she stopped herself before she said the name. “Like I used to wear it as a kid. It was so easy to take care of then.”
Polly shook her head, then pointed to the chair. “Go ahead if you want, it’s your hair. Now, you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Judith leaned back and closed her eyes, relaxing a little more with each snip-snip of the scissors. And before she knew it Polly announced that the deed was done.
“And, you know, it doesn’t look half bad either,” commented Polly as she spun the chair around for Judith to see the mirror.
Judith reached up to touch her short dark locks. “Wow, that really looks different.”
Polly smiled. “It looks fantastic, Judith. I swear, you look at least ten years younger. And I just love how all that wave frames your face. Very pretty. I don’t know why you didn’t think of this a long time ago.”
Judith tossed her a sideways glance. “Hey, and you were the one trying to talk me out of it.”
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