Bulls Island

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  I told him and he said “ah, shoot” under his breath about ten times.

  “Look, here’s what happened. I flushed all of Valerie’s medications down the toilet and she went crazy. Totally, completely, lost it. Ever since then she’s been screaming, blaming you and me, saying we’re ruining her life. First, she promised to go seek help and then she apparently changed her mind. Over the weekend, she was out till all hours and it appears that she has acquired another source for her drugs—probably from some street dealer because I found a bunch of pills in a baggie.”

  “Did you throw them out?”

  “No, it was just this morning that I found them and then the phone call came about the vandalism, and besides, it wouldn’t do any good because she has a new source. She’ll just go buy more. No prescription required. I have to think this thing through.”

  “Well, it’s not going to help Valerie get her bearings if we appear to be involved in any capacity other than professional. My firm was not pleased by the papers from last week.”

  “I’ll bet. So what did you tell them?”

  “That it was not the sordid business it appeared to be, but pretty much I told my boss the truth.”

  “So is your job in any kind of jeopardy?”

  “No. He’s coming down with two of the partners. He wants us to launch a full-fledged campaign for public awareness and education. Talk about a timely idea? Wait till he hears about this flipping alligator almost eating this idiot alive! They’re not gonna like this at the home office, you know.”

  “As if it was my fault?”

  “J.D., no one blames you. I’d say Mother Nature takes the hit for this, right?”

  I reached over and patted his hand the same way I would any other colleague and he stopped the truck. Of course we had arrived at the dock, so it made perfect sense to stop the truck, but he took my hand in his and started to pull me toward him.

  “Betts?”

  “Not now, J.D. I…I promised your momma.”

  “My momma?”

  Then we started to laugh more from nerves than anything else. And once again, the anticipation of being together had been ratcheted up to a higher level. One way or another, we would find our way through the morass of weeds and traps and we would be together. Maybe.

  I had to wait to see what toll honesty would take. Waiting. Waiting for the players on the chessboard to assume their new positions, castles to tumble, knights to make a wrong turn, the king to fall, the dark queen to be captured…the future had become a terrible balancing act between confusion and surety. The stars were almost perfectly aligned, but so far there was no relief in sight.

  On the boat ride back to the mainland, we would look at each other and say “your momma” or “my momma” and shake our heads, incredulous that Louisa had the cheek to take a moral stance about anything. The rest of our conversation was punctuated with groans over the man in the hospital and how this additional trouble was going to play itself out. Would some environmentalist group perhaps file a motion for an injunction to stop the work? Or for a civil suit against us? After all, Gatorzilla did constitute the epitome of a hostile work environment. Nah, we agreed, too far-fetched. But somewhere out there, we knew there was a lawyer trying to scheme an angle to make money out of this.

  “What an awful mess. I guess I’ll see you later?” I asked, climbing out of the boat.

  “Sooner is better than later,” he said. “What do you say we just happen to bump into each other at Sela’s? Have a fast drink around six?”

  “I say let’s not tempt the devils. We’ve got enough trouble as it is. Besides, I promised Dad I would bring them dinner. So after I give New York the news, send them updates on everything, and close up the office for the day, I have to run to the butcher and the grocery store.”

  “So you can cook, too?”

  “Cook? Me cook? Of course I can cook! I can cook anything!”

  “Liar. Your eye is twitching.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Well, it is…see you tomorrow?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Try not to poison your family!” he called out as he got back into his truck.

  “Yeah, and that’s not an option with yours either!” I called back. Too bad it isn’t, I thought.

  Given the nightmares of the day, we were in pretty high spirits.

  That is until about fifteen minutes after Bruton got my e-mail and my phone rang.

  “McGee? I am beginning to doubt the worthiness of this deal. I mean, are people so opposed to the development that they would be willing to die for it?”

  “It’s a small group of radicals. I’m sure of it. Ben, obviously I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I think we have seen the last incident of this type. The good news is that everything is covered by insurance and that there are more backhoes in South Carolina than you can count. We’ll have then all replaced this week. We will only miss a day or two.”

  “So, you think the risk–reward factor is still there?”

  “Yes, most definitely. And listen, we’ve still got Gatorzilla on our side.”

  “Some secret weapon. That poor son of a gun. Last time he’ll go vandalizing a work site. Think he’s gonna make it?”

  “Who knows? I wonder if he’ll even want to make it when he realizes what’s happened to him. I’d sleep with a light on for the rest of my life, at the very least.”

  “Okay, then. Thanks for the update and keep those memos coming.”

  We hung up and I looked at my watch. Somehow the day had slipped away and it was after four. I called Joanie on her cell.

  “Hey! It’s me.”

  “You think I don’t know your voice?”

  “Right. You still want Ginger Evans to straighten out your haircut?”

  “Oh, why not? It can’t look any worse than it does.”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  “Whatever.”

  I could tell you why Joanie had never been within spitting distance of an altar and it would be a very brief conversation.

  “Okay. Stand by.”

  I clicked off and looked at the phone. Then I called Sandi.

  “Please, do me a small favor, will you? Call the spa at Stella Nova and ask if Ginger has had any cancellations for a cut and a blowout. Tell her it’s for my sister and she looks like the mad professor whose head got struck by lightning. Twice.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  “Don’t ask. She went to the wrong groomer. I think it was inspired by meeting your brother.”

  “The German shepherd? The thought of him having a relationship with anyone is so bizarre…this weekend he asked me for Joanie’s number, by the way.”

  “Ah, come on. He’s a nice guy. I hope you gave it to him.”

  “Of course! Yeah, he’s nice enough, but he lives like a dog. Anyway, I’ll go make the call…”

  “Thanks.”

  I was having an attack of narcolepsy from reading an engineer’s report on water and sewage when Sandi buzzed me.

  “If she gets over there right now, they can take her.”

  “You’re an angel!”

  I dialed Joanie and told her to move herself as fast as possible.

  “Oh, who cares?” she said.

  “Listen to me, you want Cam Wilkins to romance you? Move it!”

  “He called me.”

  “Good. I want to hear all about it. Meanwhile, people drive here from Charlotte and Atlanta to see Ginger Evans and it takes months to get in, so hurry!”

  “How did you—”

  “You’re wasting valuable time. I’ll tell you tonight. Now go! Run!”

  I hung up on her so she couldn’t tell me to cancel the appointment. Honestly, besides Louisa, Joanie was the most frustrated and the most frustrating woman I had ever known. Ever. Really.

  A few hours passed and then I was back in my dad’s house with sacks of groceries. I had bought the ingredients for a Bolognese sauce, salad, and garlic bread. Soon
the air was perfumed with garlic and onions, sautéing in olive oil. I set the kitchen table the same way I had seen Joanie and Dad do it, not wanting to offend anyone by suggesting we clean up the dining room and use it as the good Lord intended.

  “Can I make you a drink?” Dad offered.

  “I think a glass of wine would be better for the sake of the cook’s sobriety. I bought a Barolo. It’s a pretty good one.”

  “Well, thank you. Now, where is my jigger?”

  “Right here, Dad.”

  Of course it was right where it had been the last time I was in the kitchen. But just because he didn’t see it at once didn’t mean he had dementia.

  “Ah! Thanks.”

  He was mixing his drink and I could see by his expression that he was worried.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “You have an expression of concern on your face. That’s all.”

  “Well, I heard about that whole ballyhoo out on Bulls Island and I was just thinking that I hope you are being very careful, that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’m very careful and safe.”

  I added some chopped bell pepper to the sauce and stirred it around, giving it a shake of salt and a couple of grinds of pepper.

  “Okay, if you say so. Cheers.”

  We touched the rims of our glasses and he looked at me with watery eyes.

  “You look so much like your mother, do you know that?”

  “Thank you. I’ll take that as high praise.”

  “You’re welcome. Just seeing you brings her back to life. Do you know that?”

  “Sure. I get that.”

  “Can you imagine what it’s been like for me to live out my life without the only woman I ever loved?”

  “Better than you might imagine, Daddy.”

  I thought about how I had comforted myself over the years with Adrian’s resemblance to J.D. and I knew exactly what he meant. I was a thief, no better than the criminals who’d smashed up our construction site. I had robbed Daddy and myself, too, of so much. I had cheated Daddy, Joanie, J.D., and Adrian in innumerable ways. With each passing hour, I knew the time for honesty was growing closer, and the closer it crept to me the more I trembled inside. The innocents would side with one another and I would be shunned. Wouldn’t I? I certainly deserved to be punished and I freely admitted it, but only to myself. I couldn’t help it, but tears began sliding down my cheeks and Daddy noticed.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  He rubbed my back while my tears fell into the sauce I stirred, and I wondered what to make of us all, certain that my father was having the same thoughts.

  “Do you want to talk about it? Is it J.D.? The alligator?”

  “It’s everything.”

  “I understand.”

  “I know you do, Daddy. Oh, shoot! It’s just been a lot, you know? These past few weeks? It’s a lot to handle.”

  “I’m sure it is, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  And that was when I broke down and wailed in my father’s arms until I was all cried out. He had said everything would be okay. Did he have any idea how long it had been since anyone had even implied to me that things might actually work out?

  “Go wash your face,” he said.

  “Right. I don’t want Joanie to see me like this.”

  “Oh, come on now. We’re family, aren’t we?”

  When his eye caught mine, the absurdity of the truth brought on a blast of laughter and I knew that for the moment, everything actually was all right.

  Soon Joanie was there with a much-improved haircut and we were eating dinner like it was old times.

  “Your hair looks terrific, Joanie. And your makeup.”

  “Are you wearing makeup?” Daddy said. “Look at me; let me see…so you are! Well, you look very nice.”

  “Oh, Daddy. Thanks to Betts and that genius. Boy! She was really nice! I thought it was gonna be some stuck-up place like, I don’t know, some highfalutin beauty parlor, but she was so daggum nice!”

  “Well, of course she is! She owns the business, too.”

  “Really? They sold me a whole bunch of stuff. I hope I can just remember what goes where and for what.”

  “After dinner, let me see it and maybe I can help you figure it out.”

  “Really? Thanks. By the way, this is very good, Betts,” Joanie said.

  “Well, thank heaven, because it’s about the only thing I know how to cook.”

  They smiled at that and I took it to mean they were glad I wasn’t accomplished in every quarter. It made me more like them.

  The meal went off without an unkind word. As we were cleaning up, Joanie went out to the dining room to get her shopping bag, which was on the chair with my purse. I saw her peek in my handbag and didn’t say anything. But when she lifted out the framed photograph of Adrian that I had yet to remove to a safer place, my heart almost stopped. Just as I was turning away I saw her smiling in recognition. What was I to do?

  There was no way to get her to wipe the sneer from her face, so before I left, I went to her on the porch, where she was brushing her nasty dogs.

  “Joanie?”

  “Somebody has a big secret,” she said, reverting back to her old mean-as-a-snake self. “Oh yeah! A big one.”

  “Somebody had better keep her mouth shut about it, too.”

  “And why wouldn’t I do that? Are you threatening me, Betts?”

  “No. I’m guaranteeing you. One word and you’ll regret it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I remembered then why I didn’t like my sister.

  Later, at two in the morning, when I still had not found a wink of sleep, I took a Tylenol PM. In the morning when I crawled out of bed, it took me a few minutes to recall that Joanie had been added to the list of “Those in the Know.” History had proven that it was going to be extremely difficult for her to keep the secret to herself.

  Joanie was horribly outspoken and had been all of her life. When we were children, she would always be the one to report who had cheated on a test, and later in high school, she’d been known to tell a girl who wasn’t necessarily a friend of hers that she had seen her boyfriend kissing someone else. Maybe she thought that delivering these infomercials would somehow endear her to the recipients, but it never did. If anything, she was viewed as a vicious blabbermouth and was very unpopular. You would think she would have learned something about discretion by the time she hit thirty-five, but there was precious little evidence of maturity in her judgments. I knew she was probably champing at the bit to tell Daddy and perhaps even J.D. or Valerie, or anyone who cared to listen about what she’d just learned about me. Great.

  As soon as I got to the office, not looking like Miss America, I’ll admit, I called Sela.

  “You busy?” I asked.

  “No, Ed’s gone to work and I’m just getting a massage from Russell Crowe. Yes! Right there!”

  I couldn’t help but grin despite the seriousness of my call.

  “Thank God you’re so crazy.”

  “Thank you. So, what’s going on? I saw all the mess in the newspapers this morning and on the news last night. Gatorzilla is hungry again and on the move!”

  “He swam over from Capers for a midnight snack.”

  “Gross.”

  “Truly. Well, that’s what that poor SOB gets for wrecking private property. It’s somewhat like terrorism.”

  “You know what? It is. It’s environmental terrorism, isn’t it? It’s out of Ed’s jurisdiction, but if you want, I can have him look into it.”

  “Sure! If he could help in any way at all, we would be thrilled.”

  “No problem, he’s got tons of friends on the Mount Pleasant and the Isle of Palms police forces. So, what else is going on in your crazy world of high finance and corporate intrigue?”

  “Um, you’re not gonna like this because I don’t.
”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Joanie found a hand grenade and she’s about to pull the pin.”

  “Meaning?”

  “A framed photograph of Adrian that was resting in the top of my open purse.”

  “Holy crap. What did she say?”

  “Oh, she’s just way too smug and I could see that she was about to burst the news to Daddy. Basically, I threatened her life.”

  “Think she’ll listen to you?”

  “In the short term, but I know her. She’ll choke if she can’t spill the news to someone whom it would nearly kill with a heart attack.”

  “Betts? Betts?”

  “I know, I know…”

  We talked some more and I told her of my plan to tell J.D. about Adrian before I left Charleston. She was mollified by the news that I had moved closer to telling the truth, but not convinced that I would follow through. Frankly, she was right, because a true best girlfriend could hear your chicken feathers when they ruffle.

  At that moment Sandi buzzed me. J.D. was in the outer office.

  “Send him right in.”

  Sela and I said good-bye, the door opened, and there stood J.D., looking like he had suffered a long night. He wasn’t disheveled—southern gentlemen are rarely disheveled—but his eyes were bloodshot and he oozed crankiness.

  “What in the world happened to you?” I said.

  “And I might say the same about you.”

  “Look, I’m excused today because I had dinner with Joanie and Daddy last night.”

  “If I told you what happened to me last night, they could make a movie out of it.”

  “Really? Tell me.”

  “Well, first of all, here’s a copy of all the insurance claims and the police report. I thought you would want them for your records.” He handed me a manila envelope.

  “Thanks. That was very thoughtful because in all likelihood New York would have asked. You want some coffee?”

  “Yes, thanks. Coffee would be good. Half-and-half, if you have it, no sugar.”

  “Don’t you know I have half-and-half? This is a swank outfit, Mr. Langley.” I buzzed Sandi and asked her to fix tea for me as well. “FYI, I drink my tea with half-and-half, no sugar. I’m sweet enough.”

  “I don’t know if sweet is quite the most appropriate adjective to describe you, but okay.”