Bishop's Road (33 page)

Caroline corners her the minute she enters. “I really want to hear more about Eve. She hasn't come around again and I was hoping you have some way to contact her.”

“Well hardly. She's dead. I don't know where one looks for the dead. Besides, Joanie is the one who's seen her. I'm just a messenger. This seems to be the only place she wants to be when she wants to be anywhere.”

“I don't understand why she hasn't returned. Do you think we frightened her away? I would feel terrible if I thought that were the case.”

“Eve is - was - an odd person, Caroline. She was happiest in her garden or helping people out. She hasn't changed much since she died except for having me traipsing all over hell's half acre. Maybe she figures Joanie's okay now. And the birds are fed. She seems to have moved on to the plight of Ginny Mustard. Joe Snake is having a tough time trying to get the poor thing out of prison. She really shouldn't be there, I guess. I was about to suggest that she's not a threat to society but I may be wrong. If she runs into another Mr. Miflin type she might just up and do him in too. The woman doesn't think. Especially when it comes to babies. If there were more like her in the world there'd be a lot less misery for some but the bodies would be piling up faster than we could dig holes to put them in.”

“Joe Snake didn't tell us anything when he was here. He seems a lonely man but he didn't mention his wife.”

“Well, he wouldn't. A bit closed is Joe Snake. All I know is she's not well. She's thin, he says, and won't talk to anyone. He met with the new therapist at the prison and she thinks Ginny Mustard may harm herself. I can't imagine her doing that. Even as depressed as he says she is she would never do anything that might hurt the baby.”

And Ruth proceeds to tell Caroline all about the bones in the attic and the circumstances that led to Ginny Mustard's incarceration.

“That is the saddest story I have ever heard,” says Caroline.

“Sad? Well I guess it might seem sad the way I'm telling it but really there was lots of sweet with the bitter. God knows it was the best wedding the likes of us had ever been near. And Dorrie's tea party was a fine affair. I discovered a good man among the ruins. Some of us did more living in those months before Missus sold the house than we had in years. I fought it for awhile. I'm glad I gave up that foolishness. No. I think sad is a woman with one foot in the grave. Living every minute we have is the way to go even if it breaks your heart half the time. Because it breaks your heart half the time. At least you end up laughing louder when you can. God! That sounds like something Eve would say. I brought some wine. Found it at Mr. Miflin's funeral. I'll dig out the glasses if you go get a corkscrew.”

Caroline has a strong connection with the Patron Saint of Lost Causes. Together, she and Jude feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless and spring the wrongfully imprisoned. The fact that Ginny Mustard hasn't been locked up for political affiliations or toppling nasty governments or even writing about such things, is irrelevant. In prison she is and from prison she must be released. When David comes into the living room and helps himself to a glass of wine he sees the look in her eye and sighs. Loudly. A here, we go again kind of sound and he sucks back his drink in one large swallow.

“What's up, sweetheart. Not enough to worry about right now? Who are we planning to rescue this time?”

“Ginny Mustard. Joe Snake's wife.” And she gives him the sordid details. Resisting the urge to embellish. Not that there's any need.

Ruth smiles. “Perhaps we should get Joe Snake to come over so he can be in on this. He's already been working his ass off and there's no point in re-inventing the wheel now, is there?”

“Excellent idea,” says Caroline. “You call him, David, and Ruth and I will see what Joanie is up to. The last I heard she was
going to take a bath. Bring your glass, Ruth.”

Joanie has been sitting in a tub of very cold water for about an hour. She has forgotten all about dinner. She has no idea where the children are. The palms of her hands are wrinkled. She stares at them. Wonders if she'll look like that all over when she is an old woman.

“Joanie,” calls Caroline through the bathroom door. “Ruth is here and we've already gone through a bottle of wine. Do you want me to start dinner?”

“Sure. I'll be out in a minute.”

While Joanie dries her pruny skin, Ruth and Caroline track down the children and begin meal preparations. David has contacted Joe Snake and he is on his way over, surprised and pleased that someone is prepared to lighten his burden.

From their seat on the wall in front of the orphanage, Judy and Maggie observe Mrs. Miflin's vigil. They see Ruth arrive and go inside. A little later they notice Joe Snake lope up the road. Step around the old landlady and ring the doorbell.

“Well now,” says Judy. “I do believe there's something going on at the house. Want to check it out?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” says Maggie. And they're off. Almost falling over Mrs. Miflin, who leaps to her feet when she sees them running toward her. Nervous perhaps.

Judy doesn't bother to knock. Just barges in with Maggie holding back a touch. Collides with Caroline who heard the com-motion from the kitchen and came to see what's up.

“Hello there. You must be Judy. I'd know you anywhere from Ruth's description. When did you get back in town? I under-stood you had disappeared. Do come in. And you're Maggie, of course. We are just about to have dinner. Will you join us? There's
plenty. And we're also going to come up with a way to get Ginny Mustard out of prison. I'm Caroline, Joanie's mother.”

“Well I don't have a clue who Joanie is but I sure wouldn't mind something to eat, thanks. I told Joe Snake he should try to get Ginny Mustard to finish up under house arrest. I did that a couple of times. It didn't work because I can't seem to stay out of trouble no matter what they do with me but Ginny Mustard is different. I bet he never even talked to anyone about it. No one pays me much mind until I do something stupid. Are you staying too, Maggs? Smells awful good whatever they got on the go.”

“Yes. If that's all right, Mrs., uh, Caroline.”

“Of course it is. The more the merrier. It will be nice for Joanie to have some company. She's had a difficult time lately and could use a few friends.”

And it's old home week. Even Joe Snake looks a little less serious than he has lately. Smiling. Accepting a glass of wine. Comfortable in his skin again the way he used to be. David puts a leaf in the table to make room for the invaders and Joanie sets a few more places. Judy asks Beth and Michael if they ever swing in the schoolyard. Says the next time she goes over she'll come and get them. So now they both have to sit next to her and Michael is smitten for sure by this very tall girl with the brilliant orange hair. He doesn't tell her that anyone who goes on those swings will most certainly be killed when the ropes give way.

Dr. Kamau is lollygagging again. After his evening with the Benoits he turned around and headed back to where they came from. With the key to their house and a note from Mrs. Benoit for Annie Paul, explaining that the African man can stay as long as he wants and be nice to him and make sure to take him
around so he can meet the neighbours. Get out the good sheets for the bed in the spare room because she thinks she might have left the old ones on with the yellow stripes. And a quilt since he might not be used to how cold the nights can get in this country. She must have been talking herself when he mentioned he's been away from home forever. She must have been. P.S. Don't forget to weed the flower bed.

Ginny Mustard is starving, starving. And there is nothing can quench her thirst. She lies on her cot with her hands on her belly and may die of the wanting. She eats the wretched food she prepares. She pours salt in the water she drinks. Smells it for ocean but there is none. She will not speak. She cannot recall the music. Her heart is as cold as her eyes. If we were to look inside there would be nothing to see but a tiny girl baby. And she holds fast. Tries to make her mother sing. Tries to feel some warmth from the hands pressed hard against her. But there is nothing and so she is quiet and her own small heart slows. She will not kick or turn and the nurse says this is not good, something is wrong. Tells the warden that Ginny Mustard must be moved to a hospital where her pregnancy can be monitored properly. And the warden says she doesn't give a damn just get her out of here because nothing's going to screw up her plans to vacate this hellhole with her pension intact. Signs a few papers and sends Ginny Mustard on her way.

Joe Snake's parents and Lucy arrive to find the house empty but
for Mr. Eldridge fallen asleep in the downstairs apartment. The doors are unlocked and so they make themselves at home. Missus puts the kettle on and takes a look in the fridge to see what her boy is living on these days. Cheese and a few eggs. Some sad lettuce and fuzzy things growing in yogurt containers. A dead carrot. And in the pantry, potatoes sprouting a trail across the floor. She tut-tuts her way through the rest of the house. Takes the cats off the beds and puts them outside where cats are supposed to be. Starts a load of laundry. Opens windows to air the place. Makes a grocery list and heads to the market on the corner.

Mr. Eldridge wakes from his nap to the unmistakable scent of cod and scrunchions. Turnip greens. And he goes upstairs to say hello. Informs the Benoits that Joe Snake was summoned to the house on Bishop's Road and Lucy says, “Well you might as well have his share or Mom will put it in the soup tomorrow and make us eat it all over again.” And he does. Manages to get a few words in about his trip to see the world and hears about the African man they met on their way.