Temple Secrets: Southern Humorous Fiction: (New for 2015) For Lovers of Southern Authors and Southern Novels (14 page)

When a person’s spirit is this disturbed, sometimes the best thing to do is to turn a deaf ear. Old Sally is good at hearing only the things she wants to hear.

Queenie returns with the garlic and glass of water. Old Sally takes the water and drinks it completely down. Water always helps ground her.

“I thought garlic was to keep away vampires,” Queenie says, handing her mother the bulb.

“Oh, I don’t need it for a spell,” Old Sally says. “I need it for a recipe tomorrow.”

The women laugh, which serves Old Sally’s purpose. Laughter clears fear out of a room. But, Iris isn’t laughing.

“I need your help with the transition,” Old Sally tells the three women. They stand at attention, three soldiers enlisted in Old Sally’s army.

“What can we do, Mama?” Queenie asks, speaking for all of them.

“Iris Temple be putting up all sorts of resistance,” Old Sally begins, “because she knows she hasn’t done right in this life. But she won’t take care of that old business, either. She needs to go fully into the spirit world. Right now she’s stuck in-between and she not be going to the next world without a fight.”

The three women exchange looks like they are wondering what they got themselves into.

“I think my grandfather had trouble transitioning, too,” Lynette tells Old Sally. “I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. I think that’s part of the reason I became a nurse.”

“You be right, honey,” Old Sally says. “And your grandfather wants you to know you did all the right things back then. He appreciated the help.”

“How do you--” Lynette begins.

“Your Old Sally just knows,” she says. “Now let’s be getting down to work.”

Iris’s right hand trembles like she’s pointing a finger to condemn their actions. Rose and Queenie take a step back, while Lynette steps forward and holds Iris’s wrist.

“Her pulse is fast,” Lynette says.

“That’s because she be putting up a fight,” Old Sally says.

Worry creases Rose’s forehead like she’s already had one too many battles with her mother.

“Nothin’ to be afraid of, child,” Old Sally says to Rose. “This be a good thing. Not only for you, but for your mother, too. Unfortunately, she not see it that way. Not yet, anyway.”

“Just tell us what to do,” Queenie says. She holds her head high, ready for the task.

Even though Queenie has never studied the healing arts on Old Sally’s side of the family, she has never questioned it, at least not to Old Sally’s knowledge.

As Old Sally stands, her bad hip sends a shooting pain down her leg and into her foot.

Most people don’t realize that there’s an invisible world that is just as real and complicated as the visible one. Old Sally has a foot in both worlds.

“First, we need to form a circle and hold hands,” Old Sally says to the women. They do as they are told and form a half circle around Iris’s bed.

“What I be telling you tonight will sound crazy,” Old Sally says, “but even if you question it, I need you to pretend you believe.” She looks each woman in the eye to get their agreement. “We need to use our imaginations now,” Old Sally begins again. “That be one of the languages used in the other world. We need to imagine a circle of light surrounding the bed. This light be creating the opening for Iris to leave.”

Of the three women, Rose looks the most uncertain. Soon, Old Sally will know how much Rose trusts her. Meanwhile, Queenie knits her brow as though intent on creating the light while Lynette’s efforts sit heavy on her wide face. Old Sally waits for Rose, who inhales deeply and finally nods.

“Your job be to make the light so attractive and filled with goodness that Iris can’t resist going toward it,” Old Sally says to them. “Then imagine an opening at the top of the ball of light that Iris’s soul can go through and leave this world.”

Old Sally thinks of herself as a midwife, except she helps people leave this life instead of enter it. She’s helped dozens of people make this crossing and though everyone is different, there are many things that are similar. People who have a peaceful crossing are usually the ones with no regrets. These people feel complete and even though some have had hard lives, they have made peace with what their lives have been. It is the ones with resentments and disappointments who go kicking and screaming into the next world. In Old Sally’s experience, the ones who resist life in all its fullness of light and dark also resist death.

“It be over soon,” Old Sally says to the women, at the same time reassuring herself. After this, Old Sally can finally rest, and Queenie and Rose can carry forward a new legacy as the next generation of Temple women.

Iris laughs, as if amused by Old Sally’s thoughts.
You’ll never get to relax, old woman,
Iris says.
You’re nothing but a servant.
My
servant. Who worked for sixty years for my family for next to nothing.

Iris’s words are meant to weaken her, so she won’t be able to fulfill her task.

I’ve come to set you free, Iris,
Old Sally says in the spirit world.
You’ve been locked into being a Temple, just like those secrets have locked people into doing your bidding. You never tried to get free of this prison, except for that one time with Mister Grainger. That boy was sent to set you free, too. But you were too scared and stubborn to go with him. If you had gone with him, your ending would be totally different. Life is like that, Iris. Sometimes it comes down to a single choice.

Iris’s struggle grows stronger.
You don’t know what you’re talking about,
she says.

The spirits on both sides are in a tug-of-war as Iris tries to pull Old Sally into her world. Yet Old Sally stands firm. To anyone walking into the room it might look like an ordinary gathering of a family around a deathbed. But it is much more than it appears. Many years before, the stage was set for this final scene to play out.

Death calls Iris Temple to the journey we all must make. Old Sally is a witness to this call. Iris’s life energy wanes. Her soft moan grows to a scream, loud enough for Old Sally to want to cover her ears. After several seconds, the screaming fades to soft weeping. Iris refuses to give up easily. Old Sally calls on her ancestors for more help. After a few moments her grandmother Sadie appears in spirit form and stands at one shoulder and her mother at the other. In the far corner of the room is an old black woman in tribal dress she has never seen before. Is this Sadie’s mother, who never left Africa? Old Sally closes her eyes to concentrate on the task at hand. Her past must not distract her.

To Old Sally, death is the next great birth, and it is the grandmothers who are needed for this task.

Death be women’s work,
Old Sally thinks,
just like birth be women’s work.

Rose’s gaze drops, as though her mother’s latest surge of anger has weakened her. Queenie puts her arm around Rose, keeping the circle intact. Old Sally can count on Queenie to watch after Rose. Just like she did when Rose was a girl. At the same time, Lynette stands steady, her large legs like the trunk of a live oak anchored to the ground. Her attention hasn’t wavered.

Never underestimate the power of a large woman,
Old Sally thinks, and thanks the spirit world for sending Lynette to help.

Old Sally speaks, her voice growing in power with each word. “It won’t be long now, children. She be almost ready to go.” She says what the women need to hear.

Three generations of Temple women have carried the darkness that Old Sally’s grandmother experienced first, back in the slave holding days. After her son was sold off, her grandmother wept nearly every day, crying out to God to make it right. Grief bound them to the Temple’s for all these years. Tonight, if Old Sally succeeds, that grief will finally stop, as the ancestors foretold. If she is unsuccessful in helping Iris transition, then it will have to be healed in the next generation. Or the generation after that. Like those secrets in that old book, someday the grief will find a way to come out.

Only Old Sally hears the torment coming from Iris’s unmoving lips. The machines continue to breathe for her and monitor her heartbeat. Nothing, as far as anyone else can tell, has changed. However, an invisible war is playing itself out in a final battle.

At Old Sally’s suggestion, they hum to make their bond stronger while still holding hands. Iris’s resistance grows like a hurricane coming ashore. A roar fills Old Sally’s ears. Chaos crackles in the spirit world. Old Sally’s body quakes in the storm. For the first time in all her years of doing this, she feels all might be lost. Instead of Iris dying, it is she who might die.

Like a vessel at sea riding the large waves, Old Sally and her ancestors rock with the current. She reminds herself that she is not alone. Queenie asks if she’s okay. She says she is, and at the same time wonders if this might be her transition, too.

“Keep holding hands,” Old Sally says, “and hum louder.”

The women hum and sway as the hurricane passes through them and between them. Seconds later, they stop humming and a calmness spreads over the room. They have stepped into the eye of the storm. Then to the complete surprise of the four women standing hand-in-hand, Iris Temple opens her eyes.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Queenie

“Good lord in heaven!” Queenie shrieks.

The four women stare at Iris like she is Lazarus walking out of the tomb.

Queenie had thought for sure they were successful in helping Iris to the other side. She’d never concentrated so hard in her life. But it appears that all they’ve helped her do is open her eyes.

Too bad the newspaper isn’t here to take photographs for the society section,
Queenie thinks.
She imagines the headline:

Savannah’s Grandmother Cheats Death!

All this while in the midst of the biggest scandal in Savannah’s history. A secret a day hasn’t kept the doctor away, but in fact is making her sicker. Every day Queenie wakes and wonders if today is the day that all of Savannah knows her most tender confidence.

Iris’s eyes take in the room, but the rest of her doesn’t move. Her lips tremble as she tries to speak and she emits something like a frustrated groan. Rose’s mouth drops open and even Old Sally looks surprised. Lynette picks up the telephone and has an animated discussion with someone, probably Iris’s doctor. Evidently, Iris has done something miraculous by waking up. According to Lynette, Iris should be dead now. Even the machines say so. But Iris is as alive as any of them.

Iris opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Queenie thinks of all the times she longed for Iris to shut up. Yet as awful as Iris can be, Queenie wouldn’t wish this helpless fate on anyone.

Old Sally leans close to Iris’s ear and whispers something. Iris’s eyes blink and then blink again. Queenie doesn’t begin to know how her mama talks to spirits or even near-spirits, in Iris’s case. All she knows is this is weird.

Lynette gets off the phone and steps over to Iris. “Hello, Miss Temple. I’m Lynette Fielding,” she says, a little too loudly. Does she think Iris’s muteness has also made her deaf? “I’m an RN and I need to check you over a little bit, okay?”

Lynette, who makes Queenie look petite in comparison, shines a small penlight into each of Iris’s pupils and then checks her reflexes.

When Iris looks down at her body, her eyes widen. Queenie can only imagine her half-sister’s horror at wearing a light blue backless hospital gown, the ultimate in bourgeoisie.

“The doctor will be here in about an hour,” Lynette says. “I can’t believe he wants to come out. Doctors don’t do house calls anymore. Can I get you anything?” she asks Iris. Lynette offers a toothy smile and pats Iris on the hand.

But as Queenie can attest, doctors do make house calls for Iris. They always have. And they will continue to do so as long as she might dedicate a new wing to their hospital.

Old Sally nods like Iris is giving her an ear full. Everyone turns to Old Sally waiting for a translation of the unspoken conversation.

“She’s asking for Edward,” Old Sally says.

“Do we know how to get in touch with him?” Rose asks.

“Only Iris would know that,” Queenie says.

Iris looks at Rose, as if to push her out of the room with her gaze. Queenie has never understood why Iris hates Rose so much. Perhaps even Iris doesn’t know. A wail of gas escapes into the room, evidence of Iris’s unspoken thoughts.

“Oh my, did you have a little accident in your diaper, Miss Temple?” Lynette says in a whisper as she pats Iris’s hand. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll take care of it.”

Iris’s eyes ignite in a primal—yet silent—scream.

Lynette rolls Iris on her side and pulls open the back of Iris’s gown. She peeks inside. Queenie imagines Iris would rather jump off the widow’s peak of her house than wear adult diapers. The room smells like a sewage plant and Queenie wishes she had some of Violet’s essential oils.

“Nothing there,” Lynette reports. “Maybe it’s just gas. That seems to happen to you a lot.” Lynette turns to the others. “We had a phrase for that when I was a girl,” she whispers with a wink. “We called them ‘silent but violent.’”

Lord, in heaven,
Queenie thinks,
Lynette’s lucky Iris can’t move or she’d be in traction before she even knew what hit her.

Old Sally stands close to the bed as if listening to Iris’s thoughts. “What’s she saying now, Mama?” Queenie asks.

For Iris to have to rely on Old Sally to convey her wishes must feel like Iris’s version of hell.

“She be very upset,” Old Sally says. “She keeps saying to contact Bo Rivers. Something about a key to a safe deposit box.”

It must have something to do with the Book of Secrets
, Queenie thinks. Yesterday the newspaper ran another secret accusing a prominent family finance company, led by an equally prominent patriarch, of embezzlement. His wife is one of Iris’s so-called friends at the Junior League. If Iris had been awake to read it, she might have had another stroke. And if Queenie’s secret ever shows up, she may have to take a bed next to Iris.