Mitch asked Brother Williams, “She going to be okay?”
“For now. But we’re losing that poor girl.”
A young doctor came into the room. “Jasmine’s awake. You can go in now. She’ll be groggy from the overdose.”
Mitch and Miss Bernie went to her room while Brother Williams stayed with Alexus. Mitch bit his lip as they entered the sterile room. He needed to keep it together. Jasmine’s eyes were barely open. An IV line was taped to her wrist. Miss Bernie smoothed Jasmine’s hair from her forehead and kissed her cheek. “Oh, my precious girl.”
Jasmine closed her eyes.
They stood by her bed, waiting.
“My stomach botherin’,” Miss Bernie said and shuffled out.
Mitch slid a chair next to Jasmine’s bed and clasped her hand. He swallowed back the dry knot. “Remember when I told you I know how you felt? It’s true. I know why you took those pills.”
Her eyes snapped open.
He told her about Maggie and how he blamed himself for her death because he couldn’t save her. And how he saw her face when he woke every morning. As he told the story, she turned her face to him, her emerald eyes growing wide. He went on to tell her about the fire that almost took the farm and still might.
When he finished, she continued staring at him. He sucked in a deep breath. “After that my dad hated me, and I hated myself. Couldn’t stand the pain.” He choked. “I didn’t want to be here anymore. I was going to kill myself. Seemed like the only way to stop it. But I didn’t. Kill myself, that is. Guess that’s obvious.” He smiled at her. “Instead, I came to Milwaukee and met this amazing young girl who trashed my truck, kicked me, and became my best friend. An amazing young girl who risked her own life to save her sister’s. An amazing young girl I would do anything for.”
Mitch squeezed her hand. “Don’t give up. I promise things will get better.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Jasmine said in a whisper. “That true what you told me?”
“You’re the only one I ever told.”
“Told what?” Miss Bernie said from the doorway.
“Here, sit. I want to talk with the doctor.”
* * *
When he got back, Jasmine was sleeping again. He motioned for Miss Bernie to come to the waiting room.
“Here’s what I came up with,” Mitch said to Miss Bernie and Brother Williams. “I won’t leave her like this, and I can’t leave my brother alone to take care of my dad and the farm.” He paused. “Miss Bernie, you and the girls will come to the farm with me.”
Miss Bernie’s mouth dropped. “We can’t just pick up and leave.”
“Why not?”
“The girls still got three weeks of school.”
“School isn’t doing Jasmine any good and you told me that Lexi’s way ahead of her class. I could keep the girls busy. And if you’d be willing to watch my dad while me and my brother do chores, you’d be doing us a huge favor.”
“What you think, Brother Williams?”
Brother Williams pawed his chin and broke into a broad grin. “That’s the good Lord’s answer right there. You all go with Mitch. That just might get Jasmine away from all those painful thoughts. Nothing much gets done those last few weeks of school anyway.”
“Won’t they keep her here since she attempt suicide?” Miss Bernie asked.
Mitch shook his head. “The doctor said Jasmine told him it was an accident.”
“How long you figure to keep them on the farm?” Brother Williams asked.
“They could stay the summer and come back for school in the fall.”
Alexus jumped from the couch and ran to Mitch. “We goin’ to your farm?”
“Yup.”
“Jasmine too?”
“Yup, thanks to you. That was real smart of you to tell Miss Bernie something was wrong with her.”
“Yeah, she took too much medicine.”
Chapter 48
Billy trotted to the van. Mitch rubbed the dog’s ears before opening the sliding door for the girls. He was glad to see the brown Ford Taurus gone. Chris would be on the way to get Sid from physical therapy.
Miss Bernie stepped down from the passenger seat. “Oh, my Lord, that must have been some terrible fire, lookit the side of your house.”
He yanked the sliding door open. Alexus jumped out. Jasmine stayed inside. Billy tried to get into the van with her. “Get him away from me,” she said.
Mitch pulled the chunky black lab back. “He won’t hurt you.”
Alexus stroked Billy’s massive head, but the dog’s attention stayed focused on Jasmine.
Jasmine didn’t take her eyes off him as she climbed out. “Don’t like how he’s looking at me.”
“He wants to be your friend,” Mitch said. “Go ahead, pet him.”
Jasmine grabbed her bag of clothes from the van. “Keep him away from me. He stinks.” She plodded to the house.
Miss Bernie scanned the farmyard. “How in the world you take care of all this?”
The van was loaded with half her kitchen and her favorite rocking recliner. She said if she was going to cook for working men, she needed to have her things to do it properly. At the end of the day, she wanted her own chair to relax in. The girls didn’t have much, mostly clothes along with some dolls and toys for Alexus.
The girls took their things to the spare bedroom upstairs. Miss Bernie insisted on sleeping downstairs so she could keep tabs on Sid. She slept better in her old recliner than a bed. It was easier on her back. Mitch told her he could sleep on the couch to help. She let him know that after working twenty years in the nursing home, she was surely able to handle one little man.
While the girls unpacked, he helped Miss Bernie go through the kitchen and pantry. Pots, pans, and dishes coated with crud lined the counter. When Miss Bernie was satisfied, she said, “Show the girls around while I get supper on and take care of this mess. The way you men live. My Lord.”
“Okay, but if my dad gets back before I do, he can be pretty nasty.”
“Ain’t no stranger to nasty.”
* * *
Billy followed Mitch and the girls to the milking parlor, trotting next to Jasmine. He tried to lick her hand. She swatted his nose.
The cows lined up at the parlor for their afternoon milking. Mitch took the girls inside. Alexus wrinkled her nose. “Ooh. Stinks in here.”
“You get used to it.”
Jasmine scowled at Billy and shoved him. The corpulent dog refused to leave her side.
Mitch gave them a short explanation of the milking process, then took them to the calf barn. The calves bawled, expecting to be fed. Alexus ran to the pen and tried to pet the skittish animals. They scattered, then inched back, stretching their heads toward her, licking at her hand. She giggled. “Their tongues is scratchy.”
Jasmine stood back, still scowling, bumping Billy away with her hip. “Make him stop.”
“He don’t listen to me.” Mitch looked away, grinning.
“Can we go back to the house?”
“Let’s take a ride first.” All kids loved riding in the Gator four-wheeler.
Alexus jumped in the front seat next to him. Jasmine slid into the back seat.
Billy sat on his haunches watching Jasmine as they pulled away. Mitch took them to the back pasture where the stream flowed through their property and widened into a calm pond before drifting on. He parked the Gator on the bank. “That waterhole is where we’d go swimming when I was a kid.”
Alexus jumped off the Gator. “Can I go see?”
“You know how to swim?”
“Uh, uh.”
“Be careful. It gets slippery.”
She bounced down the bank, grabbed a rock, and chucked it into the water.
Mitch turned to Jasmine. “Want to throw some rocks too?”
She shrugged.
“I used to come down here a lot when Mom died. I’d sit for hours watching the water go by. It helped.”
“H
ow she die?”
“You can come down here by yourself any time you feel like it. Might help with all you got on your mind.” Mitch rested his chin on the back of the seat. “She got real sick.”
“Momma got real sick too after my sister died.”
They watched Alexus throw rocks into the water in the same place Mitch did when he was a boy.
“You know how to swim?” Mitch asked.
“No water holes by us.”
After Alexus got tired of throwing rocks, she climbed into the Gator. They drove out to the endless acres of cornfields with their razor-straight rows of green sprouts. In the distance loomed the woods. Alexus pointed. “Can we go see the forest?”
“It’s just an old woods.”
Alexus tugged at his arm. “Please, please, please? Never seen a real forest.”
“Okay, but it’s not that great.”
He swung alongside the edge of the woods and stopped. A whispering scent of the fire still hung in the air.
“Why all those wires on that tree?” Alexus asked.
“That’s where my treehouse was. We had a bad fire and it burned.”
“I wanna go in the forest.” Alexus skipped to the woods.
Jasmine stayed in the Gator while Mitch followed. “Okay, we’ll take a quick look around and then we better get back. Miss Bernie will be waiting for us.”
They trudged over the spongy ground to the giant oak. All Mitch saw was what wasn’t there.
“This the best forest ever,” Alexus said. “Any monsters in here?”
“Sorry, no monsters.”
Chirping sparrows filled trees that had survived the fire. A blue jay squawked. Chipmunks skittered for cover in the charred remains of the treehouse. Branches over their heads rattled with three squirrels playing tag, making chuk—chuk—chuk sounds as they jumped from limb to limb.
Alexus twirled. “Lookit all the birds and squirrels and chippies. And all them pretty flowers. Smells lots better than that barn of yours. Your forest fine.”
Green buds were sprouting from the upper limbs of the old oak. Most of the trees scattered through the woods also showed patches of green buds pushing through their branches. Purple and white wood violets carpeted the forest floor, layering the musky smell of the woods with their dreamy bouquet. Large and small saplings competed for sunlight. A cherry-red cardinal sang for them. It took a five-year-old girl for him to see it. The fire didn’t destroy the woods. It forced it to be reborn.
* * *
The brown Ford Taurus was parked in the drive when they got back. Billy was lying in the same spot on the driveway as when they left. He lifted onto all fours and greeted them, wagging his tail and panting.
“Make him stop looking at me,” Jasmine said. “I don’t like it.”
“He wants to be your friend.”
“Just want to be left alone.”
“I know.”
Alexus hugged Billy’s neck. “Well, I love him. Can he be mine?”
Mitch led them to the mudroom. “Try to ignore my dad,” Mitch said to the girls. “He had a stroke and isn’t thinking right.”
“What’s a stroke?” Alexus asked.
“His brain got sick.”
Alexus squinted at him.
Mitch steeled himself for an ugly scene. He led the girls into the kitchen. Sid and Chris were sitting quietly at the table watching Miss Bernie mash potatoes with the ancient potato masher, their faces showing no clues.
Miss Bernie stopped mashing. “Jasmine, c’mon over and help me put this food on. Mitch, you set yourself down.”
Mitch focused his attention on Sid, waiting for the fireworks.
Miss Bernie and Jasmine set out the breaded pork chops, mashed potatoes with light brown gravy, and fresh buttered asparagus. The blend of aromas took his mind off Sid. He was ravenous.
“I found those chops in the freezer,” Miss Bernie said. “Enough meat in there to feed my whole church. I found that sparegrass along the side of the house. Now, where you want me?”
Mitch pointed to his mom’s chair. Sid’s watery, right eye widened and reddened. He said nothing. The girls sat next to her with the men at the other end. Mitch thought it safest to keep some distance between Sid and the girls.
Miss Bernie bowed her head. “Lord, thank you for this bounty we about to receive. We’re here to serve You and follow in Your ways. Bless this family during these hard times. Amen.”
“Amen,” said Mitch and Alexus together.
Miss Bernie reached across the table. “Hand me Papa’s plate.” She loaded the plate and cut the pork chop and asparagus into bite-sized pieces, then slid it in front of Sid. “Now you don’t have to try cutting all that yourself. Just poke it with the fork.”
Sid frowned at Mitch. Mitch grinned. “Just poke it with your fork.”
Alexus chattered on about all they saw this afternoon.
After the rest of them finished, Sid pushed his untouched plate of food away. “Get me out of here.”
Mitch wheeled him into the makeshift bedroom. “Gonna be all right in here?”
Sid’s face went blank.
“Okay then. If you need anything, Miss Bernie will be here.”
Sid’s mouth pinched into a crooked grimace.
Mitch and Chris headed to the milking parlor. Before starting in on the milking, Mitch asked, “So what did Dad say when you told him they were coming?”
“Didn’t say a word. Just stared out the front window with a weird look on his face. Gave me the willies.”
“Go figure.”
* * *
Mitch came in late from chores. The house was quiet except for snoring coming from Sid’s room and from the front room where Miss Bernie slept. He went upstairs and entered his bedroom for the first time since he’d been back. Nothing had been moved. A layer of dust covered the charred copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It didn’t feel as bad as he thought, but he couldn’t open the closet. He changed the bedding before crawling under the sheets. A cool breeze drifted through the open window. He drifted off, feeling good about the day.
* * *
“Aach. Don’t touch me,” Sid bellowed.
Mitch ripped the covers off and raced downstairs to find Chris standing outside Sid’s room. Miss Bernie stood next to Sid’s bed with her hands on her hips. Sid looked past her at Chris and Mitch. The words came out in short staccato bursts. “Get that black bitch, away from me. Send her, and those little bastards, back where they belong.”
Alexus cowered behind Mitch in her purple Barney pajamas, clutching her black Cabbage Patch doll, looking at him with wide, questioning eyes. He lost it. All compassion for Sid evaporated. He charged into the room. Before he got to the bed, Miss Bernie stuck out her arm. “He ain’t in a right mind.” She thrust her finger at Sid. “My papa hate white folk about as much as you hate black. That hatred burn inside him ’til nothing left to burn. Destroyed him. You best put out that hatred before you got nothing left inside.”
“Get the hell out of my house.”
“I work for Mister Mitch here. He want me gone, I’m gone. ’Til then, it just you and me while them boys work to keep your farm going, so you best mind your tongue.”
“Get her the fuck out of here.”
Mitch lost it. He clasped a hand over Sid’s mouth. “It’s time you shut your goddamn mouth.”
Sid’s eyes bulged.
Miss Bernie waved her hands in the air. “Enough this foolishness. You boys go on back to bed. Nothing I ain’t heard before.”
Mitch backed away.
Miss Bernie leaned over Sid. “Now if you need to go, you gonna have to go in that bedpan. You got nothing I ain’t seen plenty times at the nursing home. And I can’t be lifting you into that wheelchair. You mess yourself, you gonna lay in it ’til morning. Your choice.” Miss Bernie straightened and clamped her arms over her chest. “Your choice, old man.”
Mitch kneeled in front of Alexus. “Don’t listen to him. His brain is sick.”
Chapter 49
Mitch traipsed to the milking parlor before the sun came up.
Chris shouted over the hum of the compressor and the steady kachink—kachink—kachink of the milking machine, “Miss Bernie sure ripped into Dad with that ghetto talk.”
“She might talk ghetto, but that lady’s the wisest person I’ve ever known. It’s scary how she knows things. It’s like she can read minds.” Mitch laughed hard. “Better not be fantasizing about Becky Johnson when you’re around her.”
Chris blushed.
They went to work moving around the parlor like two veteran dance partners anticipating each other’s moves. Before going in for breakfast, Mitch patted Chris on the back. “I missed this.”
“We doing all this for nothing?”
“I have appointments at three banks in Madison this afternoon. If none of them give us a loan, I’ll keep trying. Plenty of banks around.”
Miss Bernie and the girls were at the table waiting for them along with platters of bacon, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and potatoes pan-fried with onions and paprika in bacon fat.
“You boys must surely be hungry. Get Papa and we’ll get started.”
Mitch wheeled a stone-faced Sid to the table. Miss Bernie filled their glasses with cold milk from a sweating glass pitcher. She had a plate prepared for Sid with scrambled eggs, cut-up sausage, bacon, and chunks of biscuits and gravy. The smell of fried onions and potatoes in the bacon fat along with the freshly baked biscuits and brewing coffee had Mitch swallowing back saliva.
Miss Bernie took her seat. “Mitch, can you say grace?”
“Yes, ma’am.” They all bowed their heads except Sid. “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let these gifts to us be blessed. Amen.”
“Amen,” said Miss Bernie, Alexus, and Chris.
Mitch spooned heavy white gravy, thick with sausage and chipped beef, onto the steaming biscuits, and dove in. This was not the anemic SOS (shit on a shingle) he and Chris made with hamburger and cream of celery soup spooned over toast.
“Dad, try the biscuits and gravy.”
Sid clenched his lips into a lopsided scowl.
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