Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 03 - When the Carny Comes to Town (7 page)

She is not going to let this witch stay with us!

Penny looked away and then back to Aunt Madge.  “I’m not sure just yet.”

“Why don’t you join us at Cozy Corner?  The last of my carnival guests will be gone by this evening.”  As Penny gave her a questioning look, Aunt Madge added, “As my guest of course.”

With what little I knew about Scoobie’s home life, including Aunt Madge’s disparaging comments about his “severely alcoholic” mother, I had a hard time figuring out Aunt Madge’s logic.  But it is her house.

Ramona stood abruptly.  “I’ll catch you all later,” she said, and left.

Morehouse nodded at Aunt Madge and me, and then looked at Penny.  “I’ll know where to find you if we learn more.”  He walked out, quite fast.

“Like rats leaving a sunk ship,” Penny said, misstating the analogy.  She said it just loud enough for Sgt. Morehouse to hear, but he didn’t look back.

She turned her attention to me.  “You I don’t know.”

“I’m Madge’s niece, Jolie Gentil.  Scoobie and I were friends in high school, and again now.”  In eleventh grade, Scoobie never talked about his mother except to say she worked a lot.  If she acted then as she did now, my guess was “working” was Scoobie’s euphemism for “drinking.”

“Huh.”  She looked around.  “No ashtrays, either.”

A nurse walked in and began, “He’s had a good rest.  One of you…”  Her voice trailed off as she saw Penny.

I gave her a closer look, too.  Skin-tight leotards are best left to high school students or anorexic fashion models.  They do nothing for slightly overweight, almost age fifty women.  Her golden blonde hair looked as if it needed a color touch-up, and her black low-heeled shoes were scuffed.  Combined with the large faux-alligator handbag, Penny looked as if she could be a bag lady, minus most of the luggage.

In a brisk tone, Aunt Madge picked up where the nurse left off.  “We can go in to see him about twenty minutes every hour, so we take turns.  Perhaps you’d like to go now, and I’d be happy to join you.”

Penny steadied herself on the arm of the chair as she stood.  “Naw.  I’m gonna catch a smoke.”  She walked toward the hallway elevators without another word.

The nurse was one who had been especially kind the day Scoobie was admitted.  I recalled she also went to First Prez with Aunt Madge.  She looked at us.  “Is that his mother?”

“Yes,” Aunt Madge’s tone was grim.

“Didn’t he…?” she stopped.

“Get taken away from her?” Aunt Madge said.  “A couple of us talked to social services more than once, but just like that,” she snapped her fingers, “his father would show up again and insist he was going to take care of Adam and get his wife into some kind of counseling.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, staring at her.

“I didn’t want to bias your opinion of her that much, in case you ever met her.”

“No worries there,” I said.

IT WAS ALMOST TWO-AND-A-HALF hours before Penny whatever-her-last-name-is came back upstairs.  She was chewing gum and her gait was a bit more unsteady, so I figured she added a visit to the Sandpiper to her cigarette break.

I was the only one in the waiting area and she stared at me, then moved uneasily to one of the plastic armchairs and sat.

Bet she can’t get out of there this time.

“I was gonna go to Madge’s direct, but I forgot where it is.”  She wouldn’t look me in the eye as she spoke.

“It’s at the corner of D and Seashore.”

I waited a few seconds, to see if she had a response.  Aunt Madge had made it clear she wanted Penny at the B&B so we knew where she was.  “Adam doesn’t need her at the hospital all day,” was her comment. 

I figured her presence would very likely upset Scoobie, and we both thought that, as the closest relative, Penny could decide who could see Scoobie — at least until he could make his wishes clear himself.  “So play nice,” were Aunt Madge’s parting words as she left for home.

“Would you, uh, like me to tell you how Scoobie looks, so you aren’t surprised?” I asked.

She turned vicious instantly.  “You think I don’t know what my own son looks like?”

Play nice.  “Not at all.  It’s just that with the bandages and IVs and stuff I think he looks worse than you might expect.”

“Oh, yeah.”  Again, no eye contact.  “But he’s gonna be okay, right?  Nobody thinks he’s gonna die or something.”

“They say the back injuries will take the longest to recover from, but yes, he should be okay.”

She stood, not all too steadily.  “I’m gonna go to Madge’s and hit the sack.”

I said nothing as she left, nothing about her not seeing Scoobie, nothing about the fact that she was about to get behind the wheel when she shouldn’t.  Reluctantly, because I didn’t want to irritate her, I pulled out my mobile phone to call Sgt. Morehouse.

When he picked up, I began.  “Penny just left.  She probably shouldn’t be driving…”

He cut me off.  “I hear you.”  He hung up.

I looked at the phone for a second, wondering if Penny had done more than drive under the influence in the past.

“Is she gone or with Scoobie?”  Ramona looked around the room as she walked in.

“Gone, and never saw him.”

“In all this time?”

“She went out for a “‘
cigarette break
’
.” I did an air caption of the last words.  “And now she’s gone to the B&B to sleep.”

“At four o’clock?”  Ramona asked?

“Yep.”

The word was barely out of my mouth when Dr. Cahill walked into the waiting area.  I knew it was she because her white coat said so, and tried to hide my irritation that she had not come before, despite a couple notes I’d left with the nurses.

“You must be Jolie and Ramona,” she held out her hand to shake both of ours. 

We acknowledged her leap of wisdom and she continued, “The nurses and the hospital administrator have made it clear that you and Madge Richards are the three I should talk to.”  She sat and we sat across from her.

“His mother…” I began.

“I’ve heard.  Sgt. Morehouse also called to be sure I knew something about her history with Adam.”  She ignored our raised eyebrows and continued.  “The neurologist and I have agreed to reduce his sedation, starting tomorrow, so you should be able to talk to him not long after that.  You will want to be encouraging, but don’t encourage him to do more than what Dr. Nobles and I want him to do.”

I found her tone annoying.  “Can you give us some guidance there?”  I asked. 

“He’ll wear a pretty stiff cervical collar whenever he is not in bed, and a softer one when he’s in bed.  Most people don’t like that, but it’s really important to keep his neck fully supported so the cervical vertebra can heal.  He’ll have a back brace to steady the thoracic vertebra, but most people don’t find those nearly as annoying.”

She stood and began to walk out.  “You can leave another note with the nurses, with specific questions.”

RAMONA AND I LET GEORGE join us for a brief dinner in the hospital cafeteria.  “Let” is an exaggeration, as he was coming with us whether we liked it or not.  I had to be nice, he had brought me a printed photo of the High Striker guy, and it was clear he wasn’t going to show it to us unless I talked to him.

“That’s him,” Ramona said, holding the page of photos. 

George said the High Striker guy was the only one who came close to fitting the description I gave him, though he had a couple other photos, “In case you were high or something when you described him.”

“Very funny.”  I stared at the photo, wishing there was a way to know if Scoobie actually knew him.  “Oh.  Sgt. Morehouse thinks his name is Turk.”

Ramona ate another bite of her salad as her eyes traveled from George to me.

“Shit.  He didn’t tell me that.”  George pushed the remains of his hamburger halfway across the table.

“That’s not my fault,” I snapped.  I looked back at the photo, trying to think if I’d seen the man anywhere else.

“What are you thinking?  Don’t hold back on me, Jolie.”

“I’m not.”  My reply was testy, but I’d had about as much sleep as I guessed Morehouse had.  I looked up from the photo.  “There’s nothing to tell.  The nurses let us see Scoobie for just a few minutes every hour and then we’re back to the ICU waiting area.”

“You think they’d let me in?”

“In your dreams,” Ramona said, as I shook my head.

George flipped his notebook shut.  “You can’t think of anything else at all?”

“You mean…” Ramona threw in. 

“Well…” I began.

“Cut the crap, you two.”

I remembered George said he had known Scoobie a long time.  “Did you know his mother?”

“Hard not to.  About once a month, maybe more, Penny’d sit outside the Sandpiper and sing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” until the cops picked her up.”  George looked at both of us.  “Why?”

“She came by today, and…”  I stopped as George got up. 

“Damn.  That’s all Scoobie needs.  I’ll catch you guys later.”

He was a couple feet away when I called to him.  “Don’t tell Morehouse I gave you the guy’s name.”  He didn’t acknowledge me, but I figured he would keep it to himself. 

In cahoots with George Winters.  Who knew?

AFTER RAMONA LEFT I walked over to the window and back to my chair a few times and finally decided I had to get out of the waiting room.  It was at least a half-hour before they’d let me see Scoobie so I opted for ice cream from one of the machines outside the cafeteria, rationalizing that I had decided to stay until about ten PM and needed nourishment.

I found the vending area easily, but I only had a five and a ten.  I had just gotten the change-making machine to accept my five dollar bill when someone tapped me on the shoulder.  “Excuse me, miss.”

He was a bit taller than I remembered, but I hadn’t stood next to the guy at the High Striker.  I was right about the Mediterranean features, and now that he was close to me they looked pretty menacing.  “Can I help you?”  I barely heard the clunk of quarters as they hit the change dispenser.

“I think you know my friend, I saw you with him yesterday.”

He was deliberately standing closer than people usually do.  “I’m not sure who you mean.”  I moved to go past him and he put a hand on my arm.

“At the carnival.  Everybody calls him Scoobie.”

My heart was pounding so hard I felt it in my temples.  “I know Scoobie, yes.  You must have heard he was hurt.”  He still didn’t move.

“Yes, the police were at the carnival a lot today.  I thought I would pay him a visit.”  He smiled, revealing a mouth that had teeth placed only sporadically.

“He’s in intensive care, and they’re only letting a couple of us wait up there.”  I pushed past him.  “I’m on my way back there.”

He called to my back.  “Tell him Stefan was asking about him and I’m sorry I missed him.  We leave tonight.”

I WAS STILL SHAKING when I got back to Scoobie’s floor and kept punching the wrong buttons on my cell phone when I tried to call Morehouse. 

When I finally did get it right, Morehouse’s reaction really ticked me off.  “I got eyeballs on the guy since you think Scoobie avoided him, but I can’t question him tonight just because he told you to tell Scoobie hello.  And yeah,” he said, in response to my sputtering, “I agree with you.  He wanted you to know he knows who you are.”

“If you had eyeballs on him that means you knew he was at the hospital.  Why didn’t you call me?” 

“I said eyeballs, not a damn crystal ball.  One of the guys followed him to where you were.  You walked right by my guy when you left the vending machines.”

I hadn’t noticed anyone in particular.  All I wanted to do was get away from the man Morehouse said was called Turk.  “Oh, he said his name was Stefan.”

“Yeah, that’s what the carny manager said.  He also said he’s been with him for about four years and is one of his best employees.”

“So now what?  Where’d the guy go after he left the hospital?”

“I don’t report to you, you know.”  Morehouse sighed.  “It looks like he’s going back to the
sleazy
motel where the carnies are staying.  And Jolie.”

“What?”

“You left your quarters in the change maker.”

IT WAS AFTER TEN when I got back to the Cozy Corner.  I’d been fighting sleep as I sat by myself or with Scoobie.  I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again, knowing that Scoobie would be okay at the hospital.  And nurse I had nicknamed Nurse Ratched, after the mean nurse in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, had gone home.

I had just walked into the kitchen when I heard a soft growl coming from the area near the kitchen sink.  Since I was pretty sure Aunt Madge and Harry had finally persuaded the two chipmunks Mr. Rogers had brought in to leave the house in March, it had to be Jazz.  I stooped and opened the cabinet under the sink and she streaked out.

“How did you get in there?” I asked, turning to watch her path up the back stairway.