The Witch of Belladonna Bay

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The Witch of Belladonna Bay Page 17

by Suzanne Palmieri


  “I’m just crazy about that girl,” I said, sitting next to him.

  “I know you are. I saw it in the way you looked at her today. She can be addictive. Makes you feel all warm inside, don’t she? Like nothin’ and no one can touch you.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. I don’t think I could have come home and been this comfortable without her.”

  “I don’t think you would have ever come home at all if I hadn’t bribed you with her,” he said.

  “What do you mean, bribe?”

  “Well, looky. There’re those lights again, over Belladonna. You see ’em?”

  They were beautiful, haunting.

  “Jackson, answer me.”

  When he spoke, he wouldn’t look at me.

  “She don’t need no takin’ care of. I do.”

  My heart sank.

  “Are you sick, Daddy?”

  “Oh, now I get a ‘Daddy.’ No, I ain’t sick. I’m just … tired. The drinkin’s catchin’ up with me, and I needed you to come home and unravel this mess with Paddy.”

  “But I thought you wanted to let it be?”

  “Well, Wyn, I knew you wouldn’t let it rest. And my fear is that if we don’t do somethin’ soon, poor Jamie’s body is gonna turn up. And when it does, there ain’t no amount of money or power in the world that’s gonna keep my boy out of the chair.”

  “They’d execute him?”

  “You bet your ass they would.”

  “So you used Byrd as a bribe to convince me to come home to do the work needed to exonerate Paddy?”

  “Yep.” He sighed, taking a long puff on his cigar.

  I’d never seen Jackson need anyone. Except Naomi. And that was a different kind of need altogether.

  “Okay. I’ll do the work,” I said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it briefly.

  “It ain’t that easy, sugar.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if he did do it, and he might have, we don’t know, we’d have to fabricate a murderer.”

  “He didn’t do it,” I said.

  He put down the cigar on the end of a little side table and put his head in his hands.

  “I shoulda never let him confess. I shoulda never let Stick take him that day without the proper people around … I…” His voice broke.

  “Daddy, you can’t blame yourself. What’s done is done. Let’s just try to fix it, okay?”

  He didn’t say anything. He talked a good game, my father, but when he was backed into a corner he’d go quiet. Invisible. I wasn’t having it, not that night.

  “You want the truth, Jackson?” I said harshly. “Truth is, you have a ‘give ’em what they want’ problem.”

  He sat up sharply and looked at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Mama wanted her opium. So you got it for her. No matter what the cost. And that price was high, Daddy. Then, when I was too young to know any better, I wanted to run away. So you let me. But not only did you let me, you funded the whole thing! Because that’s what I wanted. And then yesterday you were saying Paddy wanted to be in jail. Because he confessed. Because he pled guilty. So, think about it. Maybe you just thought you were giving him what he wanted.”

  My father sat back and closed his eyes.

  “What would you like me to say, girl? I’m an old man now. Old on the inside. I’m a drunk, and I hate to tell you, but I’m not prepared to change. So you have to figure out if you want to forgive me and love me like I am, or run away again. Or hell, stay here and hate me. Just … know that I love you the best way I know how. I always have. I do the best I can.”

  I’d never heard such honesty from my father. So I sat back with him and said nothing. Not one thing.

  “Want a drink?” he asked.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted one more than I do right now,” I said.

  “That’s my girl.” Jackson patted my shoulder.

  “I want to see Grant,” I said abruptly.

  “Do you think that’s the best idea right now?”

  “No, I don’t. But I need to see him. I think he might know something about this whole mess.”

  “I don’t know that Grant is in any kinda shape to help us with this, sugar.”

  “Why? What’s he been doing?”

  “Well, now … Grant’s in New Orleans, Wyn. Living the dream. Which should tell you all you need to know about what he’s been up to for the last fourteen years. Which is nothin’.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You are most welcome, my daughter.”

  That July Fourth ended with my father’s arm over my shoulder and a bottle of bourbon we finished off while quietly watching the strange lights play in the sky over Belladonna Bay. The two of us finally realizing that we didn’t have to be afraid of each other. That our love could live quietly and without reproach.

  It was a damn fine evening.

  16

  Byrd

  It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears.

  —The Little Prince

  I thought long and hard about how I felt about Ben. It distracted me for the whole damn parade.

  He had such lonesome thoughts goin’ on inside his head. I told him that he blocked me. Which was true. But as soon as he was convinced I was done trying to read him, he let his guard down. It’s so easy to make grown-ups do the things you want ’em to do.

  I like him. Don’t get me wrong. He’s one of us. And he’s handsome and not sweaty. I don’t like people who sweat too much.

  I could tell how much he loved my aunt. Too much.

  And he was worried.

  And I could feel her. Even if I couldn’t read her mind anymore. I could feel her pulling away from him. Or bein’ torn, at least.

  And then later? They thought I was asleep, but I was listening to their conversation.

  There were three things I noticed.

  ONE: There was no hankey-pankey. (Later, Ben slept on the couch and Aunt Wyn slept with me.)

  TWO: Ben was havin’ trouble understanding that he’d broken her trust. And trust is downright important. How can you even begin to enjoy a person if you don’t trust ’em?

  THREE: Well, actually, there wasn’t a third thing. I just can’t stand even numbers.

  Then I started thinkin’ ’bout Jamie and crawled back into my aunt’s bed ’cause I got lonely all over again.

  * * *

  I know babies aren’t supposed to remember things, but they do. Normal babies remember it deep down in who they are. Because I ain’t normal, I remember everything right up front. Even bein’ inside my own mama’s belly, God rest her gypsy soul.

  But what I remember best is the first time I saw Jamie.

  He don’t recall it like I do. He remembers things like normal people. He felt a tug toward me. He don’t remember how it felt when our hands first touched. But I do. And boy, was I frustrated with that baby body of mine that couldn’t just get on up and play with him. I’d been so lonesome without my mother, without her heartbeat whooshing in my ear. And that’s what happened when I touched my hand to his. I heard his heart beat. And you know what it said? “Byrd, Byrd, Byrd, Byrd, Byrd.”

  I found my safe place. And it was inside of Jamie.

  But now Jamie’s gone. Luckily I found a whole other safe place inside of Aunt Wyn. It’s scary, to love like that. I already knew what it felt like to lose all the safe around me.

  Loving my aunt like a kid loves a mama was starting to look better and better.

  A child can’t simply go through life with no one.

  And though I liked Ben, I wanted to tell him that he could go straight on home to where he came from. And that he wasn’t gonna take her.

  He’d have her over my dead body.

  * * *

  The mornin’ after the parade, I got up and shook Aunt Wyn awake. She looked a mess. Ben was still asleep on the couch.

  “You been drinkin’ with Jackson?”

  “Sure have,” she said, squinting at the morning s
un.

  “I’ll close the blinds,” I said.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  The “sweetheart” made all the worries come right on out of me.

  “If I didn’t do it, and my daddy didn’t do it, who could it have been?” I asked in a rush.

  That sure as heck woke her up.

  “Shh! Baby! I don’t want Ben to hear. These walls are thin and he’s only just on the couch! It’s ridiculous. Let it go. You didn’t do anything, and your daddy didn’t do it, either.”

  “Do you really think it was Grant?”

  “Did I tell you about that?”

  I shrugged.

  “I guess I did, even if I didn’t, right? Well, it’s possible. That message he left on Charlotte’s answering machine was strange. But I’m not too crazy about that idea, either, Byrd. To tell you the truth.”

  She didn’t want it to be Grant. I could feel it. But he was the best way to get my daddy out of jail.

  “Him and Charlotte had some sort of parting of ways a few weeks before she was found … maybe … maybe she told him something that upset him. So, even if he didn’t do the killin’, maybe he knows something about who did?”

  “They had a fight? What about?”

  “Jamie.”

  “Why would they fight about Jamie?” she asked.

  “Got me,” I said, but I knew. Sort of. Only that information belonged to Jamie. I’m a loyal friend.

  “Well,” she said. “That settles it. Time to get up. Jackson and I had a good long talk last night, and I have to get busy today. I’ll go see Stick, then your daddy, and then I’ll go find Grant.”

  The smell of chicory coffee, bitter and strong, wafted in from the great room.

  “Ben’s up, I guess.” I muttered.

  “Do you like him, Byrd?” she asked.

  “Sure! I think he’s great. A nice fellow.” He just ain’t takin’ you anywhere.

  She laughed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a card?”

  “Nope. Mostly I just get called crazy.”

  Then she grabbed me and tickled me right down into the pillows. “You are, you are, you are!” she said. “And I wouldn’t want you any other way!”

  We laughed like loons, then we caught our breath there, together all wound up around each other.

  “Let’s get up,” she said. “I need some of that coffee. It’s gonna be a long day.”

  “I’m comin’ with you,” I said.

  “No, Byrd, this is grown-up stuff.”

  “I’m comin’!” I felt a rage well up inside of me. I stomped around the words and huffed and puffed.

  “You done?” she asked. And you know somethin’, she didn’t look mad or frustrated or nothin’, she looked downright amused.

  “What’s so damn funny?”

  “You. You are funny. You remind me of your daddy.” She came to me and put her arms around me. She felt like a harness, a safe one. Like when Dolores gets upset and I have to hold her tight.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Since you have to stay here, how about I give you my camera, and you can take pictures, however many you want, all day long.”

  “Really?” I’d been wantin’ to get my hands on that fancy camera. But I didn’t steal it. Which should prove how much I loved her.

  “Deal,” I said.

  “I’m gonna figure this whole thing out, Byrd. Don’t you worry, okay?”

  And I told her “okay,” but I was worried. Because facts is facts and I still couldn’t remember that night or find my knife.

  She got up to go have some coffee. I could hear her talking quietly to Ben, but I couldn’t hear what they were sayin’.

  When I came out of the bedroom, they told me their plan.

  “Byrd, Ben wants to come with me. I know I told you that you couldn’t come, but I really need the support. It won’t be easy seeing your daddy like that. So don’t be mad, okay?”

  Ben was dressed. He held his coffee gracefully in one hand. He looked like he’d walked right out of one of those GQ magazines my daddy reads. Classy.

  I didn’t answer. I just put the camera up to my eye and took their picture.

  It’s a funny thing that happens when you look out from behind a lens. It’s like there’s this wall between you and the rest of the world. I liked it. A lot.

  I left them there, taking pictures all the way out of the house. I took about a hundred of Dolores. She was on the porch. Gettin’ closer and closer to going inside. She’s a good dog, but she likes to hide from things she doesn’t know too well.

  I wondered if that’s how come Aunt Wyn stayed away so long. Because she was hiding.

  I took picture after picture of my garden until Minerva came out with some ice-cold sweet tea.

  “Have a drink, Byrd. You’ll get dehydrated in this damn heat.”

  I took the glass and walked over to Esther. She’s the shadiest spot in the whole place. I sat up against her trunk and gazed up into her branches. Me and Jamie were right here not seven months ago, havin’ a terribly interestin’ conversation.

  We’d just come back from his house where we’d been watching movies.

  “I think it’d be neat to be Hannibal Lecter’s little girl,” I said. The Silence of the Lambs is our very favorite movie.

  And he said, “Why you wish that? You want him to eat you?”

  “No. That’s exactly the point. I think it would be a really nice feeling to be close to someone who ate people, only they didn’t eat you. Like, you’d be special to them. The specialest.”

  “I think I understand,” he’d said to me. “Like, you could be the one thing that was different in a person’s life. The one thing that made them say, ‘Nah, I love this person too much to eat ’em.’”

  “Something like that,” I said, and then tagged him so he’d have to chase me. I loved it when he chased me ’cause sometimes I’d let him catch me and then we’d fall down and almost kiss each other, only not really ’cause we’re too young. But it’s good practice. A girl should be prepared for her first kiss.

  Sittin’ under Esther all alone, I put my fingers on my lips. Who would be my first kiss now?

  I just couldn’t imagine it ever bein’ anyone but my own little prince.

  “I swear,” I said to Esther. “If they find him dead, I’ll wear black for the whole rest of my life, and I’ll never, ever love another boy again.”

  Esther stayed quiet, but I could tell I wasn’t alone anymore.

  Charlotte Masters was back and I’ll be damned if she wasn’t swingin’ on my swing.

  She’s the one who told me where to take the pictures. I didn’t see anything then, but when a ghost tells you to do somethin’, you do it. Period.

  17

  The Whalen Dolls

  Truth be told, I was glad Ben was coming with me. The thought of seeing Paddy in prison orange was enough to make me sick.

  I had to see Stick first. That was the easy part.

  But then I’d go straight to Angola because I had to see Paddy. Had to see him. I’d been away from my brother too long. And hopefully I could hold him and try and figure out why he put himself in this predicament in the first place.

  Then, Grant. Bringing Ben with me to see him would be another type of difficult. Colliding past, present, and future together is a dangerous endeavor even when nothing precious is at stake. I’d have to keep my head on straight or my brain would go all crazy fuckall and I wouldn’t be able to help anyone.

  Grant could cloud my mind with one glance from the very moment I started thinking of him as more than a friend. We were eleven, Byrd’s age, when my heart first leaped for him.

  Susan had given him a small boat. Nothing fancy, just a fishing boat that had been Kenny’s and sat rusting in their backyard for years up on blocks. She told him when he fixed it, he could go wherever he wanted with it. She didn’t know he’d have that baby up and running in a month. Paddy and I went down to the docks as soon as it was in the water.

&n
bsp; “Shoot, Grant. She’s a grand ol’ girl,” said Paddy, only ten and itching for his own key to freedom.

  “Take us out!” squealed Lottie, jumping up and down next to him, making the dock bounce.

  “Nope, this maiden voyage belongs to BitsyWyn,” he said.

  I could feel the disappointment trickle out of Paddy and Lottie as I got on that boat, Grant started the motor and we took off.

  “Faster,” I said as the water splashed up around us and Grant walked here and there like a pirate looking for treasure.

  I never wanted us to go back. I wanted to sail off into the unknown with that boy who had somehow become a man in all of five seconds.

  “You and me,” he said. “When we get older, Wyn … you and me are gonna take the world by storm. If I can manage to find some treasure, will you marry me? Like, not now, when we get big.”

  “Back in the old days, girls got married when they were thirteen. I’m only about a year away from that, you know,” I’d said, exaggerating just a little.

  “Does that mean yes?” he asked.

  I thought of saying something funny and maybe mean too because he was making my heart hurt with his attention. He was getting too close to me, and I’d already tried shutting off my heart to anything. Naomi’s gift to my troubled tween years. Only I could never do that with Grant, because he was born inside my heart already.

  “Grant Masters, of course I’ll run off with you someday. And you don’t need no treasure, either. Money kills people. Let’s just be poor and live off the land. Now shut up and make this thing go faster.”

  He did, and the faster he made that boat go, the faster my heart opened to the idea that it would be Grant who would save me. His magic was real. He could do anything.

  Only he couldn’t save my mother, and he couldn’t save his.

  I’d thought he failed me, somehow.

  Someone should really try and bottle up teenage righteousness and sell it for a fortune.

  * * *

  Ben and I walked back up to the Big House to ask Minerva if my car was still around.

  “Sure, but why not have Carter bring you where you need to go?” she responded.

  “I—”

  “Want to be in control,” she finished for me. And she was right. Partly. And I didn’t trust Carter anymore.

 

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