by Sharon Sala
By the time they got to Granny’s, the knot in Ruby’s stomach was gone. She and Peanut walked in together, chattering like nothing had happened.
* * *
The next couple of days leveled out into a regular routine. Cora was sent home from the hospital with a prescription for high blood pressure, and the renovation on Pearl’s house was getting ready for painting and cabinets.
She’d chosen white cabinets with burnished copper hardware and white quartz countertops with a faint gold thread running through, like what was in Bowie’s kitchen. Pearl also opted for wide-plank, dark hardwood flooring throughout the house. Even though Bowie cautioned her that it would show every bit of dust and footprints on it, Pearl stayed firm. It reminded her of what the floors had looked like at her home when she was growing up, and she wanted that little love connection from her past.
* * *
The only members of the Boone family left in Blessings who weren’t in the hospital or in jail were Mel, Emmitt, and Tiny.
Mel never went back to the hospital after one more visit to his mother.
After the first day and night at the hospital, Emmitt and Tiny began taking turns staying near Junior. Tiny stayed at the hospital during the day, and Emmitt stayed there at night. Tiny had set up their own little nest in the ICU waiting area, and despite all the other people who came and went, she’d laid claim to the three-cushion sofa. She had pulled it into the farthest corner of the room where she could nap during the day and Emmitt could sleep at night. And she kept a tote bag stocked with fruit and snacks, a little cooler of bottled water, and a blanket and a pillow.
They were helpless to do anything for their son, but they wouldn’t leave him. What they had yet to find out was that Junior was showing signs of regaining consciousness.
* * *
Junior was only vaguely aware of existing. From time to time he would almost surface from the darkness into which he’d fallen, but either pain or drugs would send him toppling back down. And then things started to change. Junior was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness. The times he was waking, he felt bound to the bed, and then when the pain became intolerable, shadow people sent him back.
The first cognizant thought he had was What’s making that noise? followed by Why do I hurt? But the only thing he remembered was his name.
Hope Talbot, Mercy Pittman’s sister, was working the day shift in the ICU when Junior began showing signs of awakening. She checked a few readouts, then patted his arm and said his name.
When she saw his eyelids flicker and then his right hand moving, trying to flex, she immediately reported it.
A short while later, Dr. Hastings, who was Junior’s attending physician, came down to assess the readouts as well as any physical responses he could get.
Junior had no idea of where he was or that the doctor had given orders thirty-six hours earlier to begin weaning him off of the drugs that kept him out. But as Junior was beginning to show signs of regaining consciousness, Dr. Hastings went to notify his parents.
* * *
It was almost noon on the third day since the shooting, and Emmitt had come up to have lunch with Tiny. He’d arrived with burgers and fries from Broyles Dairy Freeze and was dipping one of his french fries into the little pool of ketchup on Tiny’s paper plate when Dr. Hastings walked in.
The food was immediately set aside.
“Don’t let me interrupt your meal,” he said. “I just came to give you an update. Your son is beginning to regain consciousness. Right now, it’s just eye movement and some hand and finger movement. He has not responded to anyone verbally, but it appears he does react to footsteps and voices.”
Tiny started to cry. “Oh, this is such good news.”
Hastings nodded. “Yes. His blood pressure is still a bit high, but I attribute that to pain. I imagine when he begins waking up, the pain medication is going to be something we’ll have to adjust. He had so many internal injuries that a lot of repairs were made during surgery.”
Emmitt was sitting quietly. There were questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to trigger Tiny into one of her spells, so he started out cautiously.
“Will he heal back to the way he was?”
Hastings smiled. “Well, that’s our intent. As he progresses, we’ll begin removing tubes and monitoring kidney output and see how it goes. That’s all I can tell you right now.”
“Okay,” Emmitt said. “It was something I’ve been thinking about, and I was hoping he wasn’t going to be saddled with long-term health issues.”
“Understood,” Hastings said. “So, that’s the update, and it’s a positive one. I’ll let you get back to your lunch, and you’ll have the usual visiting time to talk to him. Just don’t expect conversations. Right now, we just want him to wake up and tell us his name.”
Tiny’s eyes widened. She stared at Emmitt in horror as Hastings left.
“What did he mean by all that? Remember his name and all?”
“I don’t know, Tiny. Junior nearly bled to death, remember? So I don’t know what a lack of blood does to a body, but we’ll just hope for the best and pray for a full recovery.”
Tiny pushed her food aside. “When Junior is well, we can leave Blessings anytime we want.”
Emmitt nodded. He was still trying to come to terms with Bowie James dropping the charges against Junior. And he’d done it before Junior was shot.
I told Junior we’d pay for everything and that he didn’t need to work. I wonder if Bowie would have dropped the charges then? Was it really Junior’s intent to take care of his own troubles that made the difference?
Emmitt remembered all too well how Junior didn’t want anyone buying him out of trouble and had made it clear he didn’t want a life like Emmitt and Mel had lived. So what had Junior said when he went to ask Bowie for a job? Whatever it was, it must have made an impact. Very few people would hire someone who’d already vandalized their property.
He got James’s reasoning for not telling Junior the charges were dropped. In a way, he was still honoring his son’s desire to pay off his own debt.
It didn’t sit right with Emmitt that Bowie understood Junior’s motives better than he did. It was a sobering thought. He didn’t want to be beholden to Bowie James, but it appeared they were.
He thought about updating Mel and called him, but his brother didn’t answer, so Emmitt sent him a text and hoped Mel wasn’t laid out drunk and passed out on the floor.
He wanted to call his mama, but she never answered, so he guessed if she wanted to know how Junior was doing she’d find out on her own. He put the phone back in his pocket and glanced at Tiny.
“Are you through with your food?” he asked.
She nodded. “It was good, and thank you for bringing it to me, but talking about Junior and what a long way he still has to go to get better sort of stole my appetite.”
“I understand,” Emmitt said as he gathered up what was left and took it to the trash can. “I tried to call Mel, but he doesn’t answer.”
Tiny rolled her eyes. “Likely as not, he’s drunk and passed out.”
“Maybe,” Emmitt said. “But I think I’ll go by his house and check on him before I go home. I do need to get some rest. I’ll be back up here around six.”
“Okay,” Tiny said. “See you later.”
* * *
Emmitt drove straight to Mel’s house, but the car was gone. He almost didn’t stop but then noticed something odd. All of the windows were up. He wondered why Mel didn’t have the air-conditioning on. It was sure hot enough.
Curious, he pulled up into the drive and got out. He was starting up the steps when Mel’s landlord, Danner Amos, came around the corner of the house and waved him down.
Emmitt pointed at the windows. “What happened? Did Mel’s air conditioner quit?”
Danner pulled
a handkerchief from a back pocket and wiped the sweat off his face.
“No. He told me his power was shut off for nonpayment,” he said.
“Oh no! I’ll help him get it back on,” Emmitt said. “Where did he go?”
“He didn’t say. He just called to tell me what happened, and that he was leaving town.”
Emmitt gasped. “You mean, as in move away?”
Danner nodded. “He owed me for a month’s back rent and asked if I would be willing to settle up with him if he left the furniture. I told him the furniture was worth more than the rent, so we settled on a price and I paid him the difference.”
Emmitt was stunned.
“Uh, well, thanks for the info,” Emmitt said.
“Sure thing,” Danner said. “We’re praying for your son. He’s a friend of my boy, Charlie.”
“Thank you,” Emmitt said. “You can tell Charlie that the doctor told us today that Junior is showing signs of regaining consciousness.”
“That is really good news,” Danner said. “I will be sure to let him know.”
Emmitt lifted a hand in goodbye, his thoughts in freefall as he drove away. As soon as he got home, he sent Mel another text.
You left? For good? Without even saying goodbye? Melvin, don’t do this. You’re my best friend. Text me when you get where you’re going. I need to know you’re still in the world.
After that, Emmitt went into his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and lay down to get some rest. He fell asleep dreaming Junior was well and they were fishing off a dock at Gray Goose Lake.
* * *
Unaware of what was happening with his family, Jud Boone had concerns of his own and had asked to speak to the chief.
When Avery told the chief, Lon set aside the file he was working on and went back to see what Jud wanted.
Judson had the makings of a five-day beard. He had two black eyes, and the stitches on his nose were beginning to itch. It still hurt to talk, and chewing on anything other than soft food was too painful to bother. When he saw the chief, he stood up and walked to the cell door.
“Okay, I’m here. What do you need?”
“I want to have a will drawn up. Will you call Peanut Butterman for me and ask if he would come here to do that?”
Jud had already been arraigned, pled guilty, and was awaiting sentencing. Technically, Lon didn’t have to comply with prisoners’ requests, but he didn’t have a problem with it.
“I’ll ask and let you know what he says,” Lon said.
Jud sat back down.
Lon returned about an hour later. Jud was still sitting on the edge of the cot, staring at the floor.
“Mr. Butterman will come by the jail around three today, or sooner if he’s done in court,” he said.
Jud nodded.
Lon frowned and then left the jail area and went back to work.
* * *
As a lawyer, Peanut Butterman believed every person deserved their day in court and had the right to representation regarding all legal matters. But responding respectfully to Judson Boone’s request was taking all he had.
It wasn’t far from his office to the police station, so Peanut decided to walk. He was going to record their conversation so that Betty could prepare the documents properly and had everything he needed in his briefcase as he stepped outside the building.
The sun was shining but there was just enough breeze to take away the slap of heat to the face. Someone honked at him and waved as he started across the street. They were gone before he got a good look at who it was, but he waved anyway and kept going.
He was thinking about Cora, who had been in his office just a short while back, filing for divorce from the man. Now she was in the hospital because of him. The fallout from Jud Boone’s existence on earth was nothing short of appalling. But the man wanted a will and Peanut was going to make it happen.
Less than ten minutes later, he was walking into the station, in a good place in his head, determined to stay professional.
“I’m here to see Judson Boone,” he told Avery.
Avery nodded. “I’ll let the chief know you’re here,” he said and buzzed Lon’s office. Moments later, Lon came up to the lobby.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, then pointed at Peanut’s briefcase. “I don’t suppose you have any weapons in there?”
Peanut immediately placed the briefcase on the counter and opened it.
“I’ll be recording our conversation for Betty so she’ll have all the details he wants in his will directly from him and not my notes.”
Lon scanned the contents, then gave Peanut a thumbs-up. “Sorry, but I have to ask,” he said. “Follow me.”
Peanut had been in the police station many times on behalf of different clients, and Jud Boone was just another to add to his list, but he never liked going to the jail. It was old, and despite being clean, the very faint odor of vomit and urine was always present.
“I had Avery set up a little table and chair in the aisle between the cells so you’ll have something to work from,” Lon said, and then opened the door and led him inside.
Jud was lying on his cot when they came in, so he sat up, waiting for this to begin.
When they reached the cell, the chief gave Jud a look.
“I expect nothing but courtesy from you,” he said.
Jud nodded. “Yes, of course, and thanks.”
“Ring the buzzer by the door when you’re ready to go out,” Lon said.
Peanut nodded, then looked Jud straight in the eyes.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Boone. I understand you want to draw up a will?”
“Yes,” Jud said.
Peanut sat down at the table, pulled up the chair, and opened his briefcase.
“I’m going to record our conversation so that my secretary will have all the details of what you want in your will.” Then he got the recorder ready, hit Play, and they began.
After they had all the details out of the way, Jud didn’t waste time.
“Before we get into what happens after I die, I have been giving my sons money each month from a trust I set up when I sold my business years back. Can you fix it so the same amounts are directly deposited into their accounts at the bank?”
“There will be papers for you to sign, but we’ll get that set up.”
“Thanks. I don’t own much else but my car and a small portfolio of stocks and bonds. I want the balance of my account and the portfolio bequeathed to my grandson, Emmitt Lee Boone, Jr.”
“I will need a list of the stocks and bonds and their present value.”
“My broker is in Savannah. If I give you his name and number, he can furnish that for you.”
“Perfect,” Peanut said. “Anything else?”
Jud shook his head. “No.”
“Okay, then,” Peanut said. “I’ll get my secretary working on the paperwork ASAP, and when it’s all ready, I’ll be back to get everything signed.”
“Much appreciated,” Jud said, then watched Peanut pack up. He pressed the buzzer, the door opened, and he was gone.
Jud gripped the bars with both hands as he looked at all the empty cells, unable to believe he was actually here. He’d lived his whole life in Blessings—under his own terms, rough though they may have been—and never once saw this as the end of his life.
No more Thanksgivings with family. No more Christmases watching Cora wrapping gifts and making candy. He would never lie down at night beside her again.
The tragedy of his life was that he didn’t see the pattern that had led him to this place. He was still the hard, judgmental man who had set the wheels in motion years ago, and his only regret was shooting Junior when he was aiming for Bowie James.
Chapter 19
Bowie’s Cherokee was finally repaired and ready to pick up. Pearl and Ella rode wit
h him when he went to turn in his rental, and as soon as he turned it in, Ella rented it back. She and Pearl were driving to Savannah to look at replacing the car they lost in the flood. Bowie was torn about watching them drive away, but they’d been on their own for twenty years without him, and insinuating they couldn’t handle it would have been an insult.
So he picked up his car and went back to the trailer to get Rowan. With everyone getting ready to leave at the same time, she’d taken the last turn at a shower.
She was in her underwear in Bowie’s master bath, drying her hair, and didn’t hear him come in, but he heard the hair dryer and knew where to find her. He just hadn’t expected to find her in such a delightful condition.
“Hey, hey, sweetheart! Your outfit is a knockout, but I can’t take you to work with me like that.”
She was blushing a bit as she turned off the dryer and laid it down. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
He just shook his head and held out his hand.
She took it without hesitation.
“You are so beautiful,” Bowie said.
“Are Pearl and Ella gone?”
“Yes. About fifteen minutes ago.”
“Then this is an opportunity we should definitely take,” she said as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.
Bowie turned around and locked the door behind him, and then began taking off clothes.
Rowan dropped her panties where she stood and stretched out on the bed to watch, shivering with longing when he was finally naked.
“You have a beautiful body, Bowie James.”
“The better to love you with,” he said, and lay down beside her. “I’ve imagined this every night as I watched you sleeping. I love you, Rowan…so very much.”
“I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. You were the knight in shining armor that we all needed, and you have grown dearer to me by the day. Make love to me, Bowie. Teach me how to make love to you.”
