Ladies of Pagodaville

by Ellen Bennett

  While she perused the shelves and filled her carriage with necessities, she thought about a conversation she’d had with Doreen during their long drive north after Vinnie’s funeral party.

  “What do you think about telling the tenants about the history of the motel?”

  “Well, how much do you want to tell? It’s a pretty involved story, Lorn,” Doreen asked while reaching into a bag of pretzels.

  “I know. But I think disclosure is important. I don’t like secrets.”

  “What if we just tell them the basics?” She crunched audibly.

  “We could, but …”

  “I mean, how would it change their lives if they know the whole ordeal?”

  “I think, actually, it’s more for me than for them. I know that sounds selfish.”

  “Well, yeah, maybe. What about the rest of us? I’m not terribly proud of what I brought to it. And Anya and those guys played a big part.”

  “I know.” Lorna was having trouble explaining why she felt the way she felt. “What if we talk with the rest of the family before making a decision? Anya told me last year that she was very glad to have everything out in the open. She said it was freeing.”

  Doreen, who was driving, pulled off the interstate into a rest area. “I’m starving. These pretzels aren’t cuttin’ it. We might as well gas up.” When she turned the engine off, she turned to face Lorna. “Honey, I want you to do what you think is right. If you want to talk to the tenants, I’ll be there to support you and add anything that might be helpful. It won’t be very comfortable for me, but if I’ve learned anything on this trip, it’s that I have to face parts of my life I’ve been running from for a long time.”

  Lorna kissed Doreen on the lips. It was quick but earnest. “I love you.”

  When Lorna arrived home from her errands and was unpacking her groceries, Anya knocked on the back screen-door. “Hello?”

  “Come on in!”

  They hugged.

  Anya sat down at the table. “I’m glad to see you back. It’s been too quiet.”

  “It’s good to be back. How is everything? How are you?”

  “Everything is, as you say, copastatic.”

  “Close enough Would you like something to drink?”

  “Sure, maybe some iced tea.”

  Lorna poured them both a glass and sat down to face her. “I have a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “How would you feel if I shared the history of the motel with the tenants?”

  Anya nodded. “I was wondering when you might want to do this very thing. Maybe it is time, no?”

  “I think you’re right. Especially with what happened last weekend and how Lindy heard the whole thing.”

  “Yes.”

  “It would expose us all.”

  “Um hm. Yes. But maybe—” Anya took another sip of her tea—“it would be for the best. That way there will be no secrets, or people making up stories.”

  Lorna played with the condensation on her glass, making circles on the Formica-topped table. “It would clear the air. I got mad at Doreen for what happened. It wasn’t her fault, I knew that. But I don’t want that between us.”

  “I understand that, Lorna.”

  Lorna nodded and looked directly at Anya. A corner of her mouth went up. “Hey, do you know you didn’t call me ‘Miss’?”

  Anya smiled back. “This I know. We decided, while you were gone, that we are family. And we don’t call each other with those names in our family.”

  Lorna felt a warmth in her heart. “I am honored, Anya. Would you like to be in the room when I talk to the tenants?”

  Anya thought about it. “No, really, I don’t think so. This is best for you to do.”

  “And I can tell them the whole story, even with Marco?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Lorna took Anya’s hand in hers. “You really are a rock, aren’t you?”

  “A rock?”

  Lorna nodded.

  Anya leaned in and winked. “I am more a boulder, no?”

  Lorna said quietly, “A mountain.”

  Lorna felt at that moment that nothing could possibly shake her foundation. Her path was clearly marked. Sharing the history of the motel with her tenants would serve to strengthen the conviction that only love truly conquered all.

  After Anya left, Lorna organized herself and called a meeting with the tenants.

  It was time to let go of the past.

  Rain moved the bonfire gathering from the beach to the lobby. Lorna provided drinks.

  Lorna started her story from the beginning—how she arrived at the motel, her ideas and plans, and how her eager renovations of the pool and badminton court turned into a gruesome excavation of human remains.

  Lorna spoke of her Mexican family with fondness and loyalty, and Doreen interjected her side of the experience when needed.

  The group was rapt.

  The only question was asked by Lindy. “Did the FBI ever identify the bones?”

  Lorna answered, “I wanted nothing to do with it after the FBI released the property back to me. I just wanted them gone. I needed to move on. I can’t tell you how horrible it was to think that my new life was going to be shattered by something that had happened so long ago.”

  PK said, “It took courage, Lorna. That’s pretty impressive.”

  “There was no turning back, ladies. I had to forge forward.”

  Mari intoned, “And look what you created here. It’s so unique.”

  Lindy agreed. “And all is supposed to be as it is, right?”

  Lorna smiled. “Yes. It is.” She looked at Doreen. “Well, now that that is over with, I have a few other things I’d like to discuss with you. How would you feel if we were to structure this group, us, like a true collective?”

  Alice asked, “How do you mean?”

  “We make decisions like a group. Everyone gets to have an opinion. For instance, Lindy wants to design a graphic novel about the motel and all of us here. Isn’t that right, Lindy?”

  Lindy nodded. “Yes. But I didn’t want to bring it up again after the recent incident. Now, though, that you’re asking us to be active participants in certain decisions, perhaps I can put it out there that this motel, all the history, all of you, would be a wonderful story to share. And I would re-create it within the guidelines we all decide on. Would that work, Lorna?”

  Lorna looked at the group, “Well?”

  PK shrugged. “Hey, I’m in.”

  Alice nodded. “Okay.”

  Mari nodded. “I think it is important to write about what comes from the heart. If I had thought about it first, I might have done the same thing. But Lindy can draw. I cannot.” She winked at Lindy.

  Doreen replied, “Well, I suppose I should jump on the bandwagon too.”

  Lorna said. “Okay, if you’re going to do this, Lindy, I think all the sketches should be approved by us before you send them on to your publisher. Is everyone okay with that?”

  They all nodded.

  Lorna continued. “Good! So how about making our Tuesday bonfire the meeting night since others might join us for dinner?”

  PK replied, “I’ve got the studio booked next week Monday through Thursday. We’ve only got four days to polish two songs.”

  Lorna asked, “Is Cheenah going to help you?”

  “Oh man, you should hear her voice. It’s like it was meant to be. She’s going to be great, but she’s pretty nervous.”

  “I heard you two singing the other day,” Mari said. “It was so beautiful. I was enchanted!”

  Lindy said. “I’d like to have some preliminary sketches for us by next Tuesday. PK and Cheenah can decide when they are done at the studio.”

  Lorna sat back and watched the group come together. It was nice to see them connect. Another notch toward forward motion.

  After everyone left, Doreen helped Lorna clean up. “I think that went pretty well, Lorn. Don’t you think?” />
  “I do.” She started washing glassware while Doreen dried. “I’m beginning to feel like this is truly a collective.”

  “Did I mention that I’m meeting with Steve and the sheriff tomorrow to try to get their account for cruiser repairs?”

  “No! When did you set that up?”

  “When we got back. I called Southern Bell, and they’re coming out to install a new phone line for the garage. It’s time to get workin’. Steve said he’d talk to the sheriff first.”

  “I’ll bet you’ll get their business. And their family’s too.”

  “Are you going to be okay with more people coming around?”

  Lorna dried her hands. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. How would you feel about putting up a privacy fence around the garage?”

  Doreen nodded. “I’m all for that.”

  “I’ll pay for it. And I’ll call in some workmen. You don’t have to do it.”

  “Well, actually, I’d like to keep it in the family. Milton’s cousin can dig the postholes with his rig. You get the raw materials, and Milton and I will have it up in no time.”

  Lorna took Doreen by the waist and pulled her closer. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. I don’t think we need to get all kinds of people out here when Milton and I can do the work.”

  Lorna moved in closer. “You know, you’re pretty sexy when you talk construction.”

  Doreen tossed the towel that was over her shoulder onto the counter and looped her arms around Lorna’s waist. “Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do with all that sexy stuff?”

  Lorna moved them toward toward the steps. “I think maybe I should demonstrate. Upstairs. Now.”

  Doreen picked Lorna up in her arms and carried her up the steps, somewhat clumsily because the stairwell was not very roomy, and into the bedroom. She kicked the door closed with her foot.

  Lorna murmured. “God, it’s good be home.”

  ***

  A quiet knock came from Mari’s screen door. When she turned the outside light on, she saw Cheenah smiling through the dark webbing.

  “I hope it is not too late?”

  Mari opened the door, “No, not at all! I was just sitting down to write my parents a letter. Come in!”

  Cheenah stepped in tentatively. “Well, really. The reason I came by was to see if you wanted to walk down to the beach with me. It stopped raining, and the sky is so very clear right now. So many stars.”

  Mari smiled. “I would love to. Let me get a sweatshirt.”

  As they walked down the path to the beach, Mari looked up and breathed deeply. “The air is sultry, not like in New Mexico where sometimes the air so dry it makes you feel like sandpaper sometimes! This sky reminds me of my beloved desert. Have you ever been to the desert, Cheenah?” She kept her eyes skyward.

  “No, just the ocean.”

  “The desert is like the ocean. It goes on as far as the eye can see. If you can imagine it, the mountain range in the very far distance makes a new horizon.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Well maybe someday you will see the desert.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “With me.”

  Cheenah took in a quick breath. “Well, I think that would be nice, too.”

  They walked in silence for a moment. “I think you have a beautiful voice,” Mari said. “I hear you and PK sing. I believe you will make such wonderful music together.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I think we will as long as I don’t get too nervous in the studio and screw things up!”

  Mari playfully elbowed Cheenah, “You’re nervous?”

  “Oh yes. I know how important this will be for PK and I don’t want to …”

  “You know, I used to have anxiety when I had to get up to speak in front of many people.”

  “Do you still have this problem?”

  “No, I learned how to breathe right. I used to hold my breath so the words would come out all squeaky like. And then I would feel faint and so sick I would throw up.”

  “Oh no! In front of the people?”

  “No, usually afterward. But I learned how to pace myself and it really works.”

  “I’ll have to remember that. To breathe.”

  After a moment, Mari asked somewhat timidly, “So, are you and PK …”

  Cheenah waited. But when Mari didn’t say anything else, Cheenah finished the sentence for her. “Together?”

  Mari nodded in the dark. “Um hmm.”

  Cheenah chuckled. “Oh, no. We are not together.”

  “Oh. Well, do you have a steady? You don’t mention anyone. Perhaps it was wrong of me to suggest that you are …”

  “Lesbiana?”

  “Well, si.”

  Cheenah said, “I am.”

  “Well, that is good to know.”

  “Oh, and why is that?” Cheenah felt flutters in her chest.

  When Mariella did not answer right away, Cheenah added, “Because maybe you know since our Thanksgiving holiday, I have been thinking about you, thinking about your beautiful writing. Remember when you told me that your grandmother inspired you to write the book?”

  “I do. I do not tell many people about that history. It is very private, but I felt I could trust you. You are very sincere, Cheenah. I like that about you. You are … real.” She turned to look at her. “And I like real people.”

  Cheenah took in a deep breath. She was afraid to speak, to lessen the heady, sweet anticipation. It was all vibe now.

  Mari broke the silence. “Have you been in many relationships with women?”

  “No, just one. And it did not go well. She left me for an Americana.”

  “I understand.”

  Cheenah’s hand brushed Mari’s. Mari took the opportunity to hold it. She weaved her fingers through Cheenah’s.

  She felt the softness that was Mari’s skin. She gently squeezed back. “This is so very nice.”

  “Yes. It is. I am so glad you stopped by. I was thinking of you.”

  “You were?”

  Mari pulled them to a stop and turned to face Cheenah. She reached over and stroked Cheenah’s face. “You are so lovely.”

  Cheenah felt her nerves teeter on edge. “As are you.”

  Mariella ran two fingers down Cheenah’s check and around her jaw, then down her neck. “So lovely.”

  Cheenah shivered.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No. I’m just …”

  Mariella leaned in to kiss Cheenah.

  Cheenah held her breath, her eyes wide.

  When their lips met, Cheenah was immediately aware of the softness of Mari’s mouth. Gentle and kind, no pressure.

  Mari pulled back ever so slightly, still so close. She whispered, “Breathe.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  March 10, 1981

  Lorna settled in for her phone call with Avril. A glass of wine and a plate of nibbles were at the ready.

  She dialed and one of the kids picked up the call. Lorna spoke with him for a moment before hearing the clunk of the receiver dropped on the table while he went to fetch his mother.

  Avril came on the line, “Oh, thank God. I can finally have my glass of wine. I just poured it.”

  “How are you, my friend?”

  “I’m hanging in there. We all just got over a nasty cold. The kids gave it to us then we gave it back. The family that sneezes together stays together. The weather has been dreadful. Rainy and cold, gray. I’m thinking of coming down there if things don’t improve.”

  “You don’t scare me! When?”

  “When I can stay there permanently?” Avril laughed and took a hearty sip of her wine. “So, fill me in on all the fabulousness that is The Pagoda Motel.”

  “Where to start. First off, guess who is now an item here in Heatherton County?”

  “Should I sit down?”

  “Mariella and Cheenah.”

  “What? Oh hallelujah! How long?”

  “It’s been a few months now. I’ve
never seen Cheenah in a relationship before, never seen this side of her.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She’s like a grown woman. I mean, not that she wasn’t before, but now this new love seems to have redefined her. She cut her hair a while back, and it looks quite stylish. She’s even taken to wearing some mascara and lipstick when they go out.”

  Avril sighed. “Young love …”

  “They’re not that young! Mariella is forty, and Cheenah is almost thirty-nine.”

  “Well, maybe more like new love. It’s so exciting. I hope the best for them. So, who else, what else?”

  “Alice took her portfolio to a gallery in Jacksonville. She’s been working on a new series, inspired of course by our beautiful environment, and the curator is very interested in her work. She re-created a smaller rendition of the mural she painted on Doreen’s garage, and I have to say it’s quite amazing. She has a unique eye. Paints a story within a story. The background could be something plain, like a beach scene, but underneath it she peels layers, and people and things emerge from this whole other dimension. It took me a while to get used to it, but the detail is amazing. You really have to study the painting, even come back to it a few times to find things you might have missed the first time.”

  Avril was an art history major in college. “The technique is hard to master, but I have a feeling she a natural. From what you’ve told me, I imagine it’s how she sees life. Sometimes genius like that astounds me. I think about my own little world here with Saul and the kids. I can’t create art, but I can certainly appreciate its intrinsic value. Is she going to have an opening? A good excuse to come down?”

  “If so, I’ll let you know.”

  “So, Doreen. How’s everything going?”

  “She’s busy in the garage. Oh, you will love this. We went up to Jacksonville to check out a few antique stores. She found an old Coke machine, the kind where you open the door and pull out the bottle!”

  “Oh, those are cool.”

  “She bought it for the shop. And it still works and takes quarters! We found a local distributor, and now we have Coke, Orange, Sprite, and Dad’s Root Beer delivered weekly. We all use it.”