Cottonwood Whispers (7 page)

Luke came over and took me by the shoulders. “Come on away, Jessie. Doc needs to work.”

I took Callie’s hand out of mine and laid it gently on the ground. “She’s just a baby,” I murmured. “That’s all she is.”

Luke took me back to the sheriff’s automobile and pulled a jacket out of the backseat, tossing it around my shoulders. “Sheriff says you can use this.”

“Why didn’t Mae come?”

“She ain’t doin’ too well,” he said sadly. “When she heard how bad the girl is, she just went to pieces. Doc had to give her somethin’ to calm her down.”

I sat on a stump and put my head into my hands. “How’d it happen?” I asked, not expecting him to know. “How’s a girl get to lookin’ like that?”

“I’m sure the doc will have a good idea.”

Within a few minutes, we were called over to help. The doctor had rigged Callie up so she’d stay still while being taken home, and the four of us carried her carefully to the bed of the truck. Luke and I rode in the back with her, holding her as still as we could while we drove back to the Colbys’. Nate Colby was home by then, having gotten the information about Callie being found. He was beside himself with worry and rushed to the truck when we pulled up.

There was all sorts of shouting and all sorts of questioning, but the only thing anyone really cared about was that Callie got on into Laurel Springs to the hospital. Luke walked me home, where we found Momma and Daddy waiting for us on the porch.

“You okay, baby?” Daddy asked me before we even reached the house. “We heard about the Colby girl.”

“Harley was just gettin’ ready to go out on a second round of lookin’ when we heard how bad off she is.” Momma’s grip on her handkerchief tightened, lifted to swipe at her wet face. “Lord knows everyone must be all broke up, poor things.”

“They’re right upset,” Luke said, respectfully pulling his hat from his head. “They’ve gone off to Laurel Springs. No doubt she’ll be in the hospital for a while.”

I listened to their conversation much like I’d listened to everything that day, with ears that felt stuffed with cotton. It was as though I was still sitting on that dim roadside alone with Callie’s broken body, watching everyone else from a distance. I couldn’t get the sight of her off my mind.

“Jessilyn,” Momma said. “Baby, you ain’t said one word. You all right?”

Luke put a hand to my back. “It’s been hard on her, is all, seein’ the little girl that way. And I had to leave her alone with Callie while I got help.”

Momma moved to comfort me, but I didn’t really want to be comforted right then. I took a step back and asked, “Where’s Gemma at?”

“She ain’t home yet. Seems the Hadleys asked her to stay on late again tonight.”

“She didn’t get home until midnight last night. What’ve they got goin’ on over there that makes them need so much help?”

“Gets her a little extra money, anyhow, Jessilyn,” Momma said, trying to settle my nerves. “She don’t seem to mind none.”

That wasn’t the way I saw it, but I didn’t say anything. To my mind, Gemma had been strange since not long after she started that job, and I didn’t like things that interfered with my and Gemma’s friendship.

Momma and Daddy asked Luke to come in for supper, but he said he didn’t feel much like eating, and I felt the same way.

“I’ll take you by the hospital sometime, maybe,” Luke said to me, tapping me under the chin with his finger. “Maybe day after tomorrow?”

I just nodded. Once he disappeared around the corner, I turned to Daddy. “Gemma not home yet?”

“Not yet. But she agreed to be home before dark. Ought to be here soon.”

I slid down onto the porch steps. “I’ll wait out here for her.”

“Why don’t you come on in for supper, Jessilyn?” Momma asked.

“I’m not hungry, Momma.”

“A bite might make you feel some better, honey.”

“I’ll wait anyways.”

They watched me for a minute and then walked reluctantly inside. While I waited, Momma and Daddy took turns poking their heads out the door, trying to get me to eat something, but I just kept shaking my head and sat on the porch waiting for Gemma. When I saw her round the bend,
I straightened up and stiffened my shoulders, determined to tell her just how I felt about that job taking up all of her time.

“Hey there, Jessie,” was all she said when she saw me.

“I been waitin’ here for you awhile now.”

“Got a lot to do at the Hadleys’,” she said quietly. “I’m tired. I’m goin’ to bed.”

I stood up to block her way. “I ain’t waited out here all this time just to say good night to you.”

Gemma never did like anyone trying to restrain her, and she bristled the minute I got in her way. “You move on out of my way, Jessie,” she said through clenched teeth. “I said I’m tired, and I want to go to bed.”

“Not till I say my piece.”

“What you got to say that’s so important it can’t wait?”

“I can’t figure you out. You ain’t the same Gemma no more. You just work and wallow, that’s all. Ain’t no in-between.”

“It ain’t wallowin’ to be tired after a hard day’s work. Maybe you don’t see it as so, Jessilyn Lassiter, but life ain’t always about you.”

“Maybe I should be tellin’
you
that. You ain’t given me the time of day lately. It’s like you ain’t got nothin’ to do but deal with your own problems. Maybe you ought to look around you and realize that there’s things goin’ on around here.” The stress of the night broke my nerves, and I started shaking and crying, but I managed to keep ranting. “Maybe you got too much on your mind to realize other people got troubles of their own, but these days all you seem to do is think about your own life and ignore everybody else’s.”

“You near about done?” she asked. “I’m tired.”

Momma came out onto the porch and stared wide-eyed at us both. “What on earth is goin’ on out here? You’ll wake the dead!”

“Jessie’s just riled at me, is all,” Gemma said. “Pretty much the same as always.”

I bristled at her assertion that I was always picking fights, and I told her as much. “Ain’t no normal day. Ain’t no normal time with you and me, neither.”

I was still crying a little, and Momma came over to hand me a fresh handkerchief she had in her apron pocket. “Gemma, Jessilyn’s a little hurt inside today over the Colby girl and all. Why don’t you girls talk about this again tomorrow when things seem clearer?”

Gemma gave my momma a confused glance. “What about the Colby girl?”

“She went missin’. Looks like maybe she wandered off last night or this mornin’. Took them a long while to find her.”

“Is she all right?” Gemma asked.

Momma shook her head slowly. “Honey, she’s pretty tore up. Has some broken bones and things. She’s at the hospital over in Laurel Springs right now. Jessilyn and Luke . . . they found her at Duncan Pass, layin’ underneath the bridge.”

Gemma’s face went pale and she dropped her purse right onto the lawn. I had wondered if she’d show concern, but I hadn’t expected anything near to the look I saw on her face.

“Gemma?” I asked anxiously.

She ignored me, bent over to retrieve her purse, and said,
“You let me know if you hear she’s all right. I’m goin’ to bed now.”

Momma and I stared at one another as Gemma charged off into the house.

“You see, Momma?” I asked indignantly. “She’s been like this for weeks now, all caught up in her own little world, and she can’t see hide nor hair of anythin’ else.”

Momma didn’t say anything, though I could see she was concerned just like I was. But then, there were plenty of concerns to go around.

The next morning I made my way out to Daddy’s makeshift office in the shed. He was sitting at his desk in the cramped space, rubbing his neck. His shoulders were slumped, and I knew just what was weighing on him the heaviest.

I approached him cautiously and set a glass of sweet tea on the desk beside him. “More money troubles, Daddy?”

“Ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about, baby.”

I watched him closely for a minute, wondering if it would be smart to ask my important question while he was so preoccupied. But then I thought that if he was distracted, it might be the perfect time to ask, since he wouldn’t have much of his brain left for thinking about little things like me working for Miss Cleta. I decided to take the plunge. “Daddy,” I began slowly, “you got a minute?”

Daddy sighed and wiped the sweat away from his eyes. “What d’you need, Jessilyn?”

“Well, it’s just that . . . I talked to Miss Cleta and, well, she asked me a question, but she said I can’t give her an answer till I get an answer from you.”

Daddy stared at me for a few seconds. “Jessilyn, I ain’t too good at thinkin’ on hot days like this. You think you can say that a little clearer?”

I took one good look at the impatience spreading across his face and decided I’d better take my chance while I had it. “It’s just that Miss Cleta . . . well, she’s asked me to come work for her maybe two, three days a week. She says she’s gettin’ on up there in age, and her arthritis is actin’ up, and she could use some company. So she asked me to come help her do some cleanin’ and gardenin’ and stuff.”

“Miss Cleta asked you this?”

“Yes’r.”

“And you want to do that?”

“Yes’r, I do. And I think it’d be a kind help to Miss Cleta, anyhow.”

“You know I ain’t too much for the idea of you workin’.”

“I know, Daddy, and Miss Cleta figured as much. But I sure could use somethin’ to do, and it wouldn’t hurt to make some spendin’ change doin’ it.”

“Seems you could help her out without takin’ her money.”

“Yes’r, and I said as much, but she won’t have it any other way. And you know how Miss Cleta is when she sets her mind to somethin’.” I leaned heavily against his desk and sighed. “Anyways, hard work would keep my mind off troubles. And I’d be nearby the Colbys so as to hear any news on Callie.”

My hands gripped the edge of his desk so hard my knuckles paled, and Daddy reached over to peel one of them away. He tucked it inside both of his hands and sighed. “Reckon it’s fine with me, Jessilyn. Long as you run it by your momma and make sure she can spare you some days. I know she’s needed you to take on some of Gemma’s chores along with your own now that Gemma’s workin’.”

“I’ll ask her, Daddy.” I put my free arm around him and laid my head on top of his. “You know, now that I’m workin’, I can help out around here with my pay.”

“Jessilyn, it’s my place to make the money for this family, and I’m gonna do that. I don’t want you feelin’ a burden over this.”

“Ain’t no reason I can’t help out around here. What else have I got to spend my money on that’s worth somethin’, anyhow?”

“That ain’t the point. I got me responsibilities, and one of them is supportin’ this family. And that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Worries were plentiful enough for us just then, so I decided to keep any arguments for another time. “Yes’r,” I murmured. “Guess I’d better go talk to Momma.”

Daddy squeezed my hand between his two and then let me go. “You do that, baby. And don’t you worry about money. That’s in the Lord’s hands, and we got to trust in that.”

I wasn’t much sure about that, but I didn’t say a word as I left him behind in the shed. I found Momma on the porch, fanning herself with a magnolia leaf.

“Sounds like a right nice way to spend a summer, Jessilyn,” she said when I asked her. “I can get by just fine. Long as you can keep up with your regular chores.”

So I made the trek down the road in the building morning heat, my steps instinctively slowing as I neared Miss Cleta’s house. Just the sight of the Colbys’ house next door got my heart racing. I put my head down and walked on, determined to keep my eyes from wandering anywhere I didn’t want them to.

I found Miss Cleta fussing with some weeds in her front garden, and I immediately bent down to join her.

“Land’s sake!” she muttered when she saw me. “Weeds are the doin’ of Satan, the way I see it. They just pop up and bother people for no reason other than to bother them.”

“Let me get them for you, Miss Cleta. Momma and Daddy agreed on me workin’ for you, so I may as well start now.”

She leaned back and smiled, the wrinkles beside her eyes deepening. “Well, that’s happy news around these parts, and no doubt I needed some. But I’ll work alongside of you while my back says it’s okay. I find it ain’t a bad job with you for company.” She took her gardening gloves off and handed them to me. “Here. I don’t want your pretty young hands gettin’ all dirty.”

I held my hands out to her and said, “My hands ain’t pretty. Anyways, no reason why you should get your hands dirty but I shouldn’t.”

“Well then, I’ll have to pick up a pair for you in town today. Ain’t no young lady should have dirty fingernails.”

We worked side by side for quite some time without a shortage of chatter before she finally stood up slowly, listing a bit to the right before she steadied herself. “I declare,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “Ain’t no good to gettin’ old, Miss Jessilyn. It’s gettin’ so I can’t even bend over no more without takin’ a spell.”

I took the spade she carried in her hand. “I can be just as stubborn as you, Miss Cleta. I ain’t bein’ paid to watch you work, and since it’s botherin’ you to do it, I’ll do it myself. Seems to me you can set and talk with me just as easy as you can pull weeds and talk with me.”

Miss Cleta took a seat on a nearby bench and wiped her forehead. “Well, I’m too old to argue,” she conceded with a smile.

“You ain’t never too old to argue with nobody. You’ll be arguin’ till your dyin’ day.”

Miss Cleta let out a hoot and shuffled into the house to get us some lemonade. I worked in the garden for the next hour, did a little ironing with Miss Cleta bending my ear all the while, and then we settled down for some dinner. After I’d had my fill of cold ham, potato salad—and a little sweet, of course—Miss Cleta announced that she wanted me to accompany her on some errands.

“This is my goin’ into town day. Lionel Stokes is due to pick me up in his taxicab soon, and I could use some extra hands if you don’t mind comin’ along.”

“No, ma’am. A little stroll through town today would do me good. Change of scenery, and all.”

Miss Cleta looked me over and waved a hand at me. “You best go on home and change into somethin’ else. You’ve got dirt all over you, and a young lady ain’t got call to go into town all smudged up.”

I looked down at my clothes and nodded my head in agreement. “S’pose so. I could use a little washin’.”

“Well, you go on home and wash up, and Mr. Stokes and I will pick you up in about an hour.”

I hurried home, though I knew it wouldn’t take me any time to get ready. Sure enough, I was finished in far less than an hour, so I sat on a porch rocker waiting for the taxi. When it arrived, I found Miss Cleta all dolled up and smelling like gardenias.

“Good day, Miss Jessilyn,” Mr. Stokes said. “You look mighty fine this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stokes.”

“Now, Lionel, you keep your eyes on the road and off the pretty girls,” Miss Cleta said. “I don’t want no accidents while I’m sittin’ back here.”

“I always give the ladies respect, Miss Cleta. You know that. I got my eyes in my head for sure.”

“See that you do.”

Mr. Stokes took a quick look over his shoulder at me. “Ain’t seen much of Miss Gemma lately. She doin’ poorly or somethin’?”

I cocked an eyebrow and leaned toward the front seat. “Ain’t you seen her at the colored church, Mr. Stokes?”

“No, ma’am, I ain’t. Seems to me she ain’t been in some
weeks. My missus was just sayin’ yesterday, ‘Ain’t seen Gemma Teague in a spell, don’t it seem?’ and I said I figured she was right.”

I leaned back in the seat and wrapped my arms around my middle. Gemma had been claiming to go to church every Sunday morning, and now I knew she was lying to me, something I never would have expected from my Gemma.

I could tell by her sideways glances that Miss Cleta could see I was worried, but she decorously held her tongue while we were in the taxi. It was once we were out on the sidewalk that she questioned me.

“You and Gemma havin’ trouble?” she asked as she studied a hat in a store window.

I pondered how much I might want to say to Miss Cleta. “Don’t know yet,” I replied. “Seems she’s keepin’ things from me. She ain’t never kept things from me before.”

“She’s a grown woman now. Maybe she’s just tryin’ to figure some things out.”

“If she’s a grown woman now, then she shouldn’t have as much to figure out, should she?”

We walked along for a while longer before she spoke again. “You think Gemma’s been actin’ strange lately then?”

“Yes’m.”

She cleared her throat a little uncomfortably, something I didn’t see Miss Cleta do very often. “She’s been tellin’ you she’s goin’ to church on Sundays?”

“Yes’m, she has. So now she’s been lyin’ to me, too.”

“Well, I don’t want to be passin’ tales, but . . .”

I stopped dead and looked pleadingly at her. “Oh, Miss Cleta, if you got news on Gemma, please tell me. She’s got me worried sick, and she won’t tell me nothin’. Nothin’ at all!”

She leaned closer to me and said, “I seen her passin’ my house every Sunday mornin’. And you know she doesn’t have to go past my house to get to the colored church. She goes on up the road, carrying her purse like she always does on her way to work at the Hadleys’.”

“Why would she go to work on a Sunday? She don’t work on weekends.”

“Well now, that’s what I been thinkin’, and last time she went by, I called ‘yoo-hoo’ to her, and she never turned to look my way one bit. She seemed to be thinkin’ too hard to notice me.” Miss Cleta brushed a drop of sweat from her powdered forehead. “I declare, she’s actin’ mighty strange these days, and she done got me worried.”

“I know. She’s got me worried too. I told you, I’m all tied in knots.”

She put a quieting hand on my back and nodded ahead of us. “Mrs. Packard’s comin’,” she said in a whisper. “Let her hear anythin’ and it’ll be all over town before you can blink twice.”

True to her character, Mrs. Packard never issued us a greeting but started right in on a juicy tidbit the moment we met up with her.

“Well, Cleta, what do you think of this nasty business?” she asked in a flustered tone.

“Imogene, I ain’t got a speck of an idea what you’re talkin’ about,” Miss Cleta answered in exasperation. “As usual.”

“I’m talkin’ about Elmer Poe, of course. That boy’s always been daft, don’t you know, and now he’s gone and gotten himself good and in a fix. Everyone in Calloway knew it would come to this someday.”

Miss Cleta’s face creased into concern the minute Mr. Poe’s name came up, and she steadied herself against the side of a building. “Now, just what is everyone in this infernal town puttin’ blame on Elmer Poe for?”

“For runnin’ down the poor Colby girl, of course. He’s always been a nuisance behind the wheel of his momma’s old jalopy, and now the sheriff’s gone and picked him up.”

“Mr. Poe’s bein’ blamed?” I cried. “Mr. Poe would never have done that and just left her there. He’s got one of the kindest hearts I know.”

“You don’t know a soul like you think you do sometimes, Jessilyn. You of all people ought to remember that.”

“Well, I know Mr. Poe, and he would do no such thing.”

“The girl’s right and you know it, Imogene,” Miss Cleta declared. “That boy’s as good as they come. He don’t even know how to keep a secret. Even if he hurt that girl by accident, he’d stop and care for her without pausin’ to think.”

Mrs. Packard seemed offended that we didn’t sink our teeth into her news. “I don’t need to stand here and be insulted. I just thought you’d like to hear, Cleta, what’s been goin’ on in this town. After all, they found his car right busted up, and it seems a clear case despite what you’re thinkin’.”

She skirted past us in a huff and left us to look at each other in bewilderment.

“Mr. Poe couldn’t do nothin’ so cold, Miss Cleta,” I insisted.

She took my arm to steady herself and began walking toward the center of town. “I know that, darlin’,” she said thoughtfully. “I know that as well as you do.”

“Where are we goin’?” I asked as we passed by the pharmacy, where Miss Cleta had wanted to retrieve some things.

“I’m headin’ over to that jailhouse and see what kind of nonsense is goin’ on in this town.”

I accompanied her gladly, wanting nothing more than to go to Mr. Poe’s aid. He had always been so kind to me and my family, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him being in jail.

“He must be frightened near to death,” I murmured. “Poor Mr. Poe.”

The minute we walked into the jail, Miss Cleta hollered, “Charlie Clancy! Where’re you at?”

Sheriff Clancy moseyed out of the back room. “I’m comin’, Miss Cleta. What’s got a bee in your bonnet?”