Sit! Stay! Speak!

by Annie England Noblin

Addie knew Jasper would be angry if he knew she was even thinking about telling Wanda about Delilah and the puppies, but Addie couldn’t come up with an excuse that would pacify Wanda for bolting from her party and ignoring her phone calls, and she was too tired to try. She knew she was going to have to tell the truth.

  “So, what you’re saying is that you’ve been lying to me for weeks.” Wanda leaned back in her chair at the kitchen table. “Addie, I thought we were friends.”

  Addie pulled two tea bags out of a fresh pitcher of tea. “We are friends, Wanda.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about all of this?”

  “Jasper made me swear I wouldn’t tell.”

  “Since when did you start listening to Jasper?”

  “Since I broke the law and dragged him into my giant mess.”

  “Well, that explains why Redd came to the party. He knew you’d be there.” Wanda put her fingers to her temples. “Lord have mercy, I thought he was having a stroke.”

  “That’s another reason I didn’t tell you,” Addie replied. “I promised Bobby, too.”

  “I oughta kick Bobby’s ass,” Wanda said. “He shoulda gone straight to the cops.”

  “I think he wanted to.” Addie placed her hand on Wanda’s reassuringly. “It seems like Redd Jones has some kind of hold over this town. Over Bobby. Over Jasper. Even over Doc.”

  “I know my brother. He can tolerate a little roughness, but there’s no way he would let Redd get away with that kind of shit.”

  “Maybe that’s why he left.”

  “What does Jasper say?”

  “Jasper says to be patient,” Addie said. “He says he’ll take care of it. But I don’t know. Everybody is keeping secrets.”

  “If Jasper says he’ll take care of it, he will,” Wanda said.

  “I’m tired of waiting on Jasper.” Addie was tired of waiting on Jasper for more than one reason. She wanted to tell Wanda more about that, too, but she knew that Wanda would ask even more questions that she didn’t have the answers to. She bit her lip.

  “He’ll take care of it, Addie.”

  “Redd knows I took Delilah,” Addie continued. “Doc told me not to worry, but I saw it in his eyes at your party. He knows. And if he knows, that means someone else knows.”

  “Redd’s meaner than a junkyard dog, but he ain’t stupid. And comin’ to my house the other night, well, that was stupid. Somethin’s got him off his game.”

  “I hate to admit it, but he scares me,” Addie said.

  “You’ve just got to lay low for a while,” Wanda replied. “Keep a low profile. Give Redd some time to forget about it.”

  “Let’s talk about something else.” Addie shook her shoulders in an attempt to rid the chill she felt. “I heard there was some kind of music festival in Eunice next weekend?”

  “Every year.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Honey, it ain’t like we’ve been talking much here lately,” Wanda said.

  “I know,” Addie replied. “I’m sorry.”

  “I figured you already knew about it. It’s front-page news.”

  “Artemis Floyd told me that Jasper plays harmonica.” Addie let out a giggle. “I swear I about fell out of my chair.”

  “The man can flat-out play!”

  “Seriously?”

  “We’ll have to go down and watch him.”

  “Artemis said the same thing,” Addie replied. “And then she invited me to some kind of party afterward.”

  “You got invited to the Floyds’ Delta Blues party?” Wanda squealed. “Everybody who’s anybody will be at that party.”

  “Yes, and Jasper didn’t look happy about it, either.”

  “How did he look?”

  “Uncomfortable, mostly.”

  “Relax.” Wanda placed her hand over Addie’s. “That’s just Jasper’s regular look.”

  “I just can’t figure out why he wouldn’t want me there.”

  “So are you going to go?”

  “You said so yourself—I need to lay low for a while.”

  “What we need is to go to that party,” Wanda replied. “I’ve never been invited, and I’m dying to know what actually goes on there.”

  “We’re not going.”

  “We are.”

  “I haven’t talked to Jasper since the day I went to lunch with Loren,” Addie said. “He isn’t going to want me there. I promise.”

  “Well, he didn’t invite you, did he?”

  “I’m not going.”

  Wanda stood up and walked into the living room. “That party is going to be amazing. What do you think I should wear?”

  “Are you even hearing me?”

  “No. I’m watching your half-naked neighbor,” Wanda said. “Doesn’t it drive you crazy to live near him?”

  Addie shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Well, I guess I better get going. I’ve got to go pick up Bryar. I’ll call you and we can make plans!”

  Addie waited until Wanda’s car had disappeared down the street before she walked over to Augustus’s house. He was still standing in the yard as she approached him. “Why do you act this way?” she demanded. “You know you freak people out, right?”

  He wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on Felix, who was at the window. “Those dogs can be mean,” Augustus said. “I prosecuted a couple cases as a D.A. Those were the days before they passed laws banning people from owning them.”

  “Felix isn’t mean,” Addie replied. “We’ve had this conversation, remember?”

  “He seems like a good dog.”

  “I think it’s people who are mean,” Addie said. “I found him inside a trash bag. He’d been shot and left to die. I don’t know any dog that could do that.”

  “You may be right.” Augustus finally turned his attention to Addie. “Would you like to come inside?”

  Addie had never seen anybody over at his house except for the woman she assumed was Magdalene. Not a single visitor. Her curiosity was killing her. “Sure.”

  “Lovely,” Augustus replied. “I’ll put on some tea.”

  Addie had envisioned a potential episode of Hoarders, but the house was clean. Except there were books everywhere. There were books on the dining room table. There were books on the chairs and on the kitchen counters. Addie had to put her hands into the pockets of her jeans to keep from peeking beneath their covers. “Have you read all of these books?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Augustus replied. He pulled a robe around his pale, bony body. “I’m a collector of sorts.”

  “I’ve never seen so many books.”

  Augustus smirked at her. “You’ve never been to a library?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Of course it wasn’t.”

  “May I look at them?”

  “Make sure your hands are clean,” Augustus said.

  Addie looked down at her hands. They seemed fine to her. She picked up the book nearest her and opened it. The inside showed that it was a first edition of Lolita. There was a name scrawled on the inside, but she couldn’t make out what it said.

  “Have you ever read that book?” Augustus asked. “It was one of my wife’s favorites.”

  “I read it once in college.” Addie leafed through the pages. “Is that your wife’s name written on the inside?”

  “I’m sure that it is,” Augustus said. “Eleonora.”

  “Like the short story?”

  “Yes. Just like the short story by Edgar Allan Poe.”

  “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “I’ve always thought so.” Augustus handed Addie a glass filled with an amber-colored liquid. “So Tilda Andrews was your aunt, eh?”

  “She was.” Addie sniffed at the glass. “I thought we were having tea.”

  “Rye whiskey beats tea,” he replied. “I always liked her, your aunt.”

  “Did you know her well?” Addie put the glass to her lips and winced. The smell burned her nostrils and al
l the way down her throat.

  “They got on well,” Augustus replied.

  “Who got on well?”

  “Your aunt and my wife were good friends with another one of our neighbors, Rubina.” Augustus seemed exasperated at Addie’s question. “Although I believe they moved her to a nursing home this past March.”

  “I met Ms. Rubina once. But I never met your wife.”

  “They had a falling out many years ago,” Augustus said. He poured himself another glass of whiskey with a shaky hand. “It was all over Zeke.”

  “I met Zeke once, too.”

  “Nobody liked him much. Not even Tilda liked him. But she sure did love him.”

  “If he was so awful, why did she love him?”

  “Your aunt was stubborn as a mule.”

  Addie smiled. Her mother had always said that her aunt was the most stubborn woman alive. She didn’t doubt that the reputation had followed her into death as well. She remembered the words scrawled across the recipe: Don’t become bitter. Had her aunt become bitter? “Did your wife and my aunt make up before your wife died?”

  “No,” Augustus said. “They never did make up, and I don’t think your aunt ever forgave herself. My wife has been dead for over a decade. Tilda would come and see me sometimes, and I think it was just because she missed being inside this house.”

  “May I ask you another question?”

  “I don’t see what I could do to stop you.”

  “Why do you let everybody think that you’re crazy?”

  Augustus swirled the whiskey around in the glass. He took several long sips until it was once again empty. “It’s easier.”

  “Easier than what?”

  “Than everything else.”

  “You’re lucky they don’t lock you up,” Addie said. “Or put you in a nursing home like Ms. Rubina.”

  “Magdalene would never let that happen.”

  “Who is Magdalene?”

  “She’s my caretaker.”

  “Does she know that this is all a big scam?”

  Augustus smiled, his lips curling up into his gums. “I think she has her suspicions. But unlike some people”—he nodded toward Addie—“she respects my privacy.”

  “You invited me into your house.”

  “Only after you charged over onto my property.”

  “Because you scare my friends.”

  “I don’t believe anybody scares Jasper Floyd.”

  “I wasn’t talking about him,” Addie said. She glanced down at the book still in her hands. “But I’m pretty sure that I scare him plenty.”

  “Jasper has always been very willful, very stern—especially when his daddy is around. Jack Floyd expected too much of that boy, I always thought.”

  “He’s a lawyer now,” Addie said. “Well, he doesn’t practice anymore, but I think he was probably a good one.”

  “I’m sure he was,” Augustus said. “Of course, once a lawyer, always a lawyer. That’s not a job from which a man can simply walk away.”

  “You did.”

  “But I’m crazy, remember?”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  “I like you Adelaide Andrews.” Augustus poured Addie another drink. “I like you just fine.”

  CHAPTER 38

  DOWNTOWN EUNICE WAS BUZZING WITH THE ARRIVAL OF THE Delta Blues Festival. Men with clipboards and earpieces yelled at other men backing up trucks full of musical equipment down the barricaded streets. Stages had been built on all corners, and banners hung all over town touting names like Andy Coats, Gregg Allman, and the Backbone Blues Band. There wasn’t a stage or an ear or a crack in one of the sidewalks not filled with music. Even the mighty Mississippi River seemed to be crashing to shore to the beat of a bass guitar.

  Addie was in awe. She couldn’t think of a single thing in all her twenty-eight years to compare it to.

  “So, are you glad you decided to come?” Wanda gave her friend a sideways glance. “It gets bigger and better every year.”

  “It’s impressive,” Addie agreed. “How long does it last?”

  “Three days.” Wanda turned around to face Bryar, who was licking an ice cream cone inside his red wagon. “But the first day is always the best, huh?”

  “It is, Mama,” Bryar replied. “Can I get a caramel apple next?”

  Addie grinned down at him. “It’s so funny that ice cream and caramel apples can be eaten during the same season around here. Further up north, where I’m from, kids eat ice cream in the summer and caramel apples in the fall.”

  “It can be ninety degrees in the fall,” Bryar replied. “Lasting cold doesn’t arrive until November.”

  Addie glanced from Bryar to Wanda, who just rolled her eyes. “How old are you, anyway?” Addie asked him. “Some days I think you’re four, and some days I think you’re forty-four.”

  “Meemaw says I’m an old soul.”

  “I believe it.”

  “Well, let’s go find Meemaw and Pawpaw.” Wanda pulled at the wagon with a grunt. “You eat too much more and I won’t be able to pull that old soul of yours!”

  Wanda’s parents were sitting in lawn chairs in front of one of the main stages. People were littered in the grass all around them. There was no missing Leon Carter, and there was no mistaking where Wanda and Bryar got their red hair and smattering of freckles. He looked like one of Peter Pan’s Lost Boys all grown up—all elbows and ears. He broke into a broad, toothy smile when he saw them.

  “I wondered when you three was gonna find us.” Leon lifted Bryar by the back of his overalls out of the wagon. “Boy, you look bigger than the last time I seen ya.”

  “You saw me yesterday!” Bryar said, bursting into a fit of giggles.

  “Don’t get him all riled up, Lee,” Wanda’s mother said. She wagged a long, red fingernail in his direction.

  “Calm down, Priscilla. We ain’t hurtin’ nobody.”

  Priscilla pursed her lips and turned away from her husband to Addie and Wanda. She was every bit the antithesis of her husband. Priscilla Carter was almost sixty, but Addie ventured to guess nobody ever mentioned that fact in front of her. “What are you girls up to today?”

  “Just here for the music.” Wanda shrugged. She bent over to spread the blanket along the grass. “How many bands have we missed?”

  “Lord, child,” Priscilla said. “Are you trying to make Daisy Duke jealous with those shorts?”

  “Mama, it’s almost eighty degrees outside.”

  “That don’t mean you gotta let all that God gave you hang out.”

  “Mama, I’m not sixteen.”

  “Precisely my point.”

  Wanda sat herself down onto the blanket with a harrumph. “Better sit down, Addie,” she said. “Before my mother finds something wrong with you.”

  “How are you, Adelaide? You’re here just in time!”

  “In time for what?”

  “I reckon Jasper and Jack Floyd is gettin’ ready to play,” Leon said. “At least, that’s the rumor.”

  “Neither one of them have been to the festival since . . .” Priscilla trailed off. “Well, since what happened.”

  “You oughta hear Jack sing,” Leon continued. “Got a voice sweet and thick as honey.”

  “I don’t get it,” Addie whispered to Wanda.

  “You don’t get what?”

  “Jack Floyd wouldn’t even be seen at the Fourth of July celebration. And that was at his own house.”

  “He ain’t got his legs, Addie. But he sure as heck’s got his voice. Nobody will notice that chair once he opens up his mouth.” Wanda shrugged. “This festival . . . it just does things to people.”

  “This heat does things to people.”

  There was a hushed excitement as Jack Floyd wheeled himself out onto the stage and in front of the crowd. He was alone. “I’m a man of few words. But before we begin, I want to tell y’all that I appreciate all the encouragement to come back to the stage after this last year.” Three men and two women walked out on
to the stage to join Jack. One of them was Jasper. He had a look on his face that Addie hadn’t seen since Memphis. He stepped up beside his father and said, “We’re gonna start out with a classic by Charley Patton. It’s called ‘Mississippi Bo Weevil Blues.’”

  Addie had never heard the song before, although just about everyone else, including Wanda, knew the song by heart. Despite the heat, people began dancing, and a few of the men took their shirts off.

  The crowd roared when the song was over. Jasper stepped over to the middle of the stage and next to his father. “Now, as most of you know, my dad believes that any blues song written after 1950 isn’t a real blues song,” he said. He glanced down at his father and gave him a quick grin. “But I like more contemporary music.”

  “Every year them two get up there on stage and mend fences,” Priscilla said. She shook her head.

  “But they haven’t played together for a while, right?” Addie asked.

  “Musta been rough around that farm.”

  “One of my favorite contemporary blues artists is Jonny Lang,” Jasper continued. “My dad has agreed to play one of Jonny’s songs if I’ll agree to sing.”

  The crowd erupted.

  “Now, this is a surprise,” Wanda hollered at Addie over the throng.

  “Jasper doesn’t usually sing?”

  “Not since he was a young’un,” Leon replied.

  The music began once again, and Jasper said, “This one is called ‘To Love Again.’”

  I’d been sleepin’ way too long.

  Searched for the answers but couldn’t find one

  Thought I had it under control,

  Yeah, I was dying and didn’t even know.

  Jasper’s voice was like Jack’s and, as Leon had said, thick as honey. But where Jack’s voice was smooth, Jasper’s was rough. Where Jack let notes run out, Jasper cut them short. Each word sounded like shoes scraping through gravel.

  I needed something.

  You showed me how to love again.

  How to love again

  When I had nothing

  You showed me how to love again

  How to love again.

  “He’s singing to you,” Wanda said.

  “He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “He had to know you’d show up.”

  “Like I’m some kind of a stalker?”