Jacob's Ladder (8 page)

“Right. Then the librarian, who is quite an unlikable person, by the way—”

“Miss Stokely,” Ms. Lou Ellen said, interrupting. “She's still mad because the love of her life left her at the altar.” She took a sip of her tea and then whispered, “He left town with her sister.” She leaned in toward Rose. “And there was poor Miss Stokely, plump as a pea, dressed up in a long white gown with tiny white pearls, the thin veil covering her shame, standing in a church filled with geraniums.” Ms. Lou Ellen folded her hands and gently placed them on the table. “That in itself was reason to leave her.”

“Because she was plump?” Rose asked, not following.

“For heaven's sake, no, because of the plants,” the older woman replied. “Who ever heard of geraniums as a wedding flower? That marriage was doomed the moment she decided to use her houseplants as decoration.”

“Well, that would explain her surly behavior.” Rose smiled and drank the last of her tea. “So, back to the story,” she continued. “I tried to find some more books but didn't see any, and then I returned to the table. That's when I discovered that the pages were turned in the book I had been reading, that my pen was in a different place, and that the bracelet was gone.”

“How long had you been absent from your belongings?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.

“Ten or fifteen minutes at the most,” Rose replied.

There was a pause as Ms. Lou Ellen considered what her friend had told her.

“Maybe it slipped through your fingers the first time. Maybe you just thought it was gone.” She added some more water to her tea.

“It was gone,” Rose said confidently.

“Rose dear, haven't you ever searched for something over and over, around every inch of your house, and then come across it right where you were sure you had already looked?”

Rose leaned back against her chair. She stared up at the ceiling. “Yes,” she said hesitantly, “of course.” She sat up and faced her friend.

“Well, maybe that's all it was,” Ms. Lou Ellen said reassuringly.

Rose considered the idea but didn't seem to believe it.

“Or, it could be something else.” Ms. Lou Ellen drummed her fingers on the table. She waited a minute and then resumed speaking. “Maybe it was your guilt washing over you for stealing the evidence from the crime scene.” She began to explore her newest assessment. Rose listened, though she bore a puzzled look on her face.

“Maybe since you had just returned from Sheriff Montgomery, knowing that you had engaged in deceit and the looting of a dead man, and then, having sat down to read those ghastly accounts of our atrocities against the native peoples, you aligned yourself with the evil forces at work in the world from the beginning of time and it suddenly created the illusion in your mind of having been offended yourself.” She seemed pleased with her emerging analysis of what had happened to her friend.

“Or perhaps you were so enveloped in your state of monkey business that your fingers became sensory-dysfunctional, paralyzed, if you will, unable to decipher the shape and feel of the pilfered piece of evidence that remains in your possession.”

Ms. Lou Ellen pounded a fist on the table, startling both Rose and the dog. She was a lawyer at the judge's desk, now making her case with great fervor.

“You could not recognize the thick silver band because your soul had been compromised by your actions. And even on a deeper level, you were subconsciously cloaked from the consequence of your thievery because you did not want to touch the substantiation of your connection to the immoral deeds of our ancestors who arrived on the shores of this fair land and proceeded to steal from and lie to those who had already discovered America.”

She stopped and then ended with a great depth of emotion. “The earliest settlers, the Indians.”

The older woman, having finished her speech, clasped her hands together in front of her chest, leaned back against her chair, closed her eyes, and exhaled a long, noisy breath. She had wrapped her closing argument and was now basking in the light of her conclusion.

Rose was unsure of how to respond. There was an awkward silence.

“Then again, dear,” Ms. Lou Ellen said as she sat up and faced her friend, “perhaps you just stuck your hand in the wrong pocket.” She smiled and nodded at Rose, then got up from her seat and walked over to the sink, placing her cup under the faucet.

“Well, it appears as if we have company,” she said, now speaking in a light, cheerful tone. She was standing in front of the kitchen window, which faced the campground office.

Rose seemed baffled, first by her friend's line of thinking and her explanation for what had occurred at the library and second by the quick change of topic. She shook her head, as if that would help clear her mind.

“Who do we know who drives a long gold Cadillac bearing North Carolina plates?”

Ms. Lou Ellen had retrieved her pair of opera glasses from the shelf beside the sink and was investigating the new arrival.

As soon as she heard “gold Cadillac,” Rose jumped up from the table, frightening Lester Earl, and ran to the window to stand beside her friend. The dog howled and hobbled to the corner of the room.

“I can't believe it,” Rose said in a hushed voice as she watched a man step out from the driver's side, a man she clearly recognized, a man who had always claimed that when he turned forty he was buying himself a gold Cadillac and driving across the country.

There was a moment in which she felt almost happy to see her ex-husband, but as soon as the passenger door opened and the long legs of the woman she assumed was his new wife emerged, the hint of pleasure was dulled.

NINE

“How do I look?” Rose asked her friend anxiously. She began to smooth down her blouse and then quickly searched around the room for a mirror.

“Just like yourself,” Ms. Lou Ellen replied, still unsure of who had just driven up to the campground. She turned to the younger woman and was examining her through the opera glasses. Rose was magnified. “Only a whole lot bigger,” she added.

“I can't believe he's here,” Rose said fretfully, still watching out the window.

“And just who is this ‘he'?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.

“Rip,” Rose replied, sounding out of breath, “My ex-husband.”

Ms. Lou Ellen turned to the dog resting under the table. “Was there some convention you fellows attended that suggested you visit previous wives?” she asked her new companion. “Did you decide that it would be more of an advantage if all of the ex-husbands of the women at Shady Grove showed up at once?”

The dog sat up as if he had been called. Ms. Lou Ellen spun back to the window and to the scene that was taking place just outside her door.

The man stood and stretched; then he hurried to the passenger door, opening it wide. He bent down and gave the woman inside his hand. Out came a tall, thin, tan, very young, very blond woman. He nervously closed the door behind her as she glanced around at her new surroundings. They walked up the steps and into the office.

“And he brought her,” Rose cried. “Her!” she said again. “What on earth is he thinking?”

Ms. Lou Ellen followed them with her opera glasses. “That somehow spending time with a younger woman will help him forget the bald spot on the back of his head and the fact that his penis has shrunk.”

The dog made a yelping noise and moved from the corner of the kitchen to the rear bedroom. Ms. Lou Ellen watched her new pet as he hurried away, his tail curled beneath his one rear leg.

“Oh, I apologize, dear,” she called out to the departing dog. “Lester Earl,” she shouted, “I'm sorry. I did promise I wouldn't mention your indiscretion again.” She waited. The dog did not return.

“Oh well,” she said to Rose as she leaned forward, straining her neck to follow the couple as they walked up the steps to the office. “The truth does hurt, even when spoken to a dog.”

Rose began to panic. “What should I do?” she asked. “I mean, should I try to get to my car or just hide in here?”

At that moment, the couple walked back out to the porch of the office, Mary standing between them. The campground manager pointed to the small cabin where the two women were staring out of the window. Rose immediately hit the floor when she realized that they were now peering in her direction.

“Quick, get down here,” Rose said to her friend, pulling on her sweater.

Ms. Lou Ellen did not move, but, rather, braced herself at the sink. “Darling, the last time I got on my knees was during one of Lucas's prayer meetings at the church. I love my daughter's husband, but I don't go to his prayer meetings anymore because I have known for a very long time now that I can talk to the Good Lord just fine sitting in a chair.”

She cleared her throat. “My dear, I don't drop down unless I'm quite sure I will get back up. Besides, I've only very recently been released from my doctor's care.” She leaned toward Rose. “A broken hip,” she added, pointing to her right side. “It is not recommended for me to squat.”

Then she faced the window again. “Well, they are now about forty yards away, so you better decide if you're running for cover in the back with the guilty dog or if you're going to stand up like a woman and face this man and his middle-aged mistake.”

“I don't know what to do,” Rose stammered. “Tell me what to do,” she said, pleading with her friend.

“Get up, drink a few swallows of water, throw some on your face, and get ahold of yourself,” Ms. Lou Ellen replied in a commanding voice. She poured a glass of water and handed it to Rose, who remained seated on the floor.

The couple was now walking up the cabin steps.

“Tell them I'm not here,” Rose said, waving off the water.

She began crawling toward the rear of the house. Ms. Lou Ellen watched with a disapproving look on her face.

There was a knock. Rose froze just beside the table. Ms. Lou Ellen made a huffing noise, walked over to the front entrance, and opened the door wide enough for the couple to see Rose hiding under the table.

“It fell under the chair” the older woman said to her friend, providing an explanation as to why the other woman was down on all fours on the floor. “Keep searching, I'm sure it's there somewhere.” Then she faced the curious man and woman standing at her door.

“Well, hello there,” she said in her most delicate manner.

She wore a huge smile across her face. “Rose dear,” she said as if she were surprised, “we have guests.”

She stood away from the door and Rose turned to look. She remained on her hands and knees for only a second and then quickly jumped to her feet.

“Rip, hello,” she said, her voice filled with just a bit too much cheer. “What a surprise to see you here,” she added, walking toward the couple. She stood beside Ms. Lou Ellen.

She extended her hand. Rip reached out and shook it. The moment was awkward for all of them.

“Did you find it, dear?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked, still trying to cover the charade.

“What?” Rose asked.

“It,” Ms. Lou Ellen replied quickly.

“Oh, right, yes, it was in my pocket,” she said, trying to think of the best way to respond.

“Of course it was,” the older woman replied. “That's where it's been the entire time.” She smiled and nodded, reminding Rose of their earlier conversation.

Ms. Lou Ellen faced Rip and the woman with him. “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

Rose immediately stood between Ms. Lou Ellen and the couple, blocking them from getting through the door.

“I think we'll just go outside and talk,” she said as she walked past them to the front porch.

“Ah, okay,” Rip said. “Nice to meet you,” he said to Ms. Lou Ellen.

“But we didn't,” she responded.

The man seemed surprised. Rose blew out a breath.

“Meet,” the older woman explained.

“Oh, right,” he responded. “I'm Rip Griffith. This is my wife, Victoria.”

Rose felt a sudden pain in the center of her chest at the introduction. She swayed briefly but caught herself before anyone else noticed.

“Pleased to meet you,” the young wife added.

“Lou Ellen Johnston,” the older woman said casually, holding out her hand. Rip reached for it and shook it. Then she added, “Rose has become my dearest friend.” She glanced over at the woman now holding on to the banister at the front steps. When she caught Rose's eye, she winked.

It immediately eased the situation for the middle-aged nurse, the ex-wife of Rip Griffith. She smiled at Ms. Lou Ellen and felt the sting slighten and then disappear.

“Great,” Rip responded. “Thank you, then,” he said, and slid his arm around Victoria.

The two of them followed Rose as she walked toward the row of picnic tables just beside the office.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she sat down at the far side of the tables.

He sat down across from her. The younger woman seemed either bored or uncomfortable. Rose couldn't tell which.

“Honey, I think I'll walk around while the two of you talk,” Victoria said. She grinned at Rose and flipped her long blond hair with the back of her hand. “Good to see you again,” she said to Rose, then kissed her new husband on the cheek.

“Okay, right,” Rip said, holding his wife by the arm as she bent over him.

Rose quickly turned away. “Stay on the path,” she said to Victoria, who peered up at her with a perplexed look. “Snakes,” she added, knowing it was way too soon in the season for the copperheads or even the harmless black or garden variety to be out around the riverbanks. “They're mean when you step on them this early.” She meant to frighten the young woman, and it did just that.

Victoria quickly jumped to the gravel road. She glanced around nervously and then started walking toward the river.