“Damn that sonofa—” A pain struck Danny, and he yelped.
“Damn him trying to squeeze in on my girl—”
“Danny! Please. I’ll have you there in a few minutes.”
“I—I’ll never be no use to anybody with a gimp shoulder. My nose. Oh, shit, my nose, too.”
“They’ll dig that bullet out of you, straighten your nose, and you’ll be just fine, you’ll see.”
She snugged the automobile tight into dangerous Hospital Curve, fighting the play in the big steering wheel.
CHAPTER 17
Flannery
1972
River breezes dipped into another sunny day; the tang of fish and muddy water filled the dank air. The warm weather brought out folks who’d heard about the old vehicle the fisherman had discovered.
Hollis broke away from the banks of the Kentucky and plodded toward Flannery.
He hadn’t changed much since ’52, just a little wider in the belt and a little fatter in the jaws, and even more naked, thicker in the stretch of neck he lacked.
“Is Jean here?” he asked, slightly bending over to look in the car windows.
“Mama’s taken a spell. I’ve come for news on the car down there. Heard it was a Mercury,” Flannery said straight out, trying to glimpse over his shoulder.
Hollis tucked his hands into his pockets, glanced down at the ground, answering her question.
She grimaced. “I prayed it wasn’t.”
After a minute, he said, “It’s our old Mercury. Sure never dreamed I’d see it again. Never like this, anyway.”
Flannery sucked in a breath.
“The fisherman who found it said he’s been going to this same hole for damn near two decades. Said he could’ve reached over his canoe, dipped his arm into the water, and touched it all along in the low water these past months. He went to put his boat in this morning, and there it was, the red trunk poking up from the shallow Kentucky. This drought finally told us the truth.”
Hollis stepped forward, touched her shoulder. “Could be it’s empty, Flannery. Hell, could be anything. We won’t know till they get it out and comb the inside. State police wrecker’s winching it up now.”
Flannery raised her head to the cliffs. It was highly unlikely the car had just driven itself off, floated downstream without leaving a trace of paperwork, and a whole lot more likely someone inside had lost control. She knew that Hollis’s words were empty of hope.
“Danny,” she whispered. “He must’ve wrecked it.”
Hollis’s face paled a little. He looked like he was turning his brother’s name over, maybe even thinking about the last time he’d seen him, the last time he’d run into Flannery on Ebenezer. “You can wait at home—”
“I’m staying,” she said, her eyes threatening to tear.
“You don’t want to see this. Shit, we’ve pulled a lot of bad stuff from this river lately, and more than a few bodies. Better off waiting at home with your mama.”
“I promised my mama I would bring her home. And if Patsy’s down there”—Flannery pointed to the Kentucky—“I don’t intend to waste another second just waiting and pining. I aim to take back news, and if the situation warrants, prepare for a burial this very afternoon.”
It was almost a relief saying it. Burial. Relief she wouldn’t have to go through another fake birthday.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Hollis said, but Flannery knew he was thinking the same thing.
“Mama’ll want to have a proper one, give her a nice service.” Flannery tasted each word as it traveled from the heart to the tongue. “We’ll need to have a funeral as soon as the officials give us the . . .” For a minute she couldn’t imagine what the officials would be giving them. What remnants of young lives, what mottled human remains they might find in that crusted, old Mercury? Still there needed to be a ceremonial good-bye of sorts. An ending to wishing, the yearly birthday celebrations. The madness. Mama’s and hers.
The whole town knew about the sham. The parties, the waiting. The disappointment and depression that followed Mama for weeks after, until she’d shake it off and start talking about the next year’s celebration.
“Dad will want Danny buried in the Catholic cemetery,” Hollis said. “If the kids are down there together, you and Jean might want to think about leaving them together that way. Be less talk knowing our families are together on this.”
A deputy with a different county badge interrupted. “Excuse me, sir. Brought you a coffee.” He handed the sheriff a Styrofoam cup.
“Thanks, Howland.” Hollis took a small sip.
The deputy sipped from his own cup. “Sorry about all this, sir. I was hoping it weren’t the Henrys’ car. Thinking how terrible—”
Hollis nodded. “Thanks for the coffee. How’s Ginny feeling? I know she had a headache when she left last night.”
“Right as rain. Sure was a good get-together you threw yesterday, sir,” the deputy piped, his voice picking up a notch as if he was relieved Hollis’d changed the subject. “Thanks for inviting us. Ginny’s still talking about your vittles. All the fine things you do for the school kids.”
Flannery raised a brow.
Hollis mumbled a thanks through the steam of his coffee. The deputy told Hollis, “Mayor Conner said it was your best barbeque yet. One of your biggest. Said it was real generous of you to do all that, donate your home and all that food to raise monies for the high school like that. Yessir, thinking of them kids so they can have themselves a proper band and nice decorations for their big prom dance. Ain’t right you have this in your lap, now.” He squeezed Hollis’s shoulder and slipped off.
Hollis smiled at Flannery, looked a little embarrassed, and said, “I try to make sure the students have themselves a nice shindig at the end of the year.”
“That’s real nice, Hollis,” Flannery said, meaning it.
“Just something I always wished for Patsy and Danny. Louise and I decided a while back, we’d make it happen for Glass Ferry’s kids—have us a barbeque to raise the funds. They can have themselves a real band instead of a jukebox.” He cleared his throat. “Flannery, Dad’ll want those two buried—”
“Mama will want her on Butler Hill,” Flannery said firmly.
Hollis shook his head and walked away.
Flannery lagged behind him, slipping past the small crowd of onlookers and over to the sycamore trees near the Kentucky’s banks.
Hollis stopped to talk to a couple of state troopers, all the while keeping an eye on Flannery and the Mercury.
“Hell, are you kidding?” Hollis laughed weakly at something one of the troopers said.
The trooper said, “Yup, I missed my pool buddy this weekend. Gravey’s Bar just wasn’t the same without you, Hollis.”
“Likely to be missing me a while if Louise has her way,” Hollis told him, and snatched a more direct peek at Flannery.
Flannery turned away and pretended she wasn’t listening, but snuck glances at the two, perked an ear to pluck their conversation.
“Your wife’s still bent about the last time?” the trooper asked Hollis.
“That woman can light a meanness anytime.” Hollis sighed loudly. “I was cleaning up the picnic tables after the barbeque, carrying in the dishes for her. Soon as I hit the door, here she came a’harping. I tried to get her out of my way, but she stumbled and twisted her ankle. Hell, all I wanted, Billy, was to get out of my clothes and pop me a cold one. But, damn, that beer cost me a week’s salary what with the doctor bill.” Hollis shook his head.
“Sorry, buddy,” the trooper said.
Flannery gasped and moved a step away. She forced her attention back to the river. Bracing herself against a tree, she watched the tow truck driver try to secure the winch to the back of the Mercury. The man disappeared under the murky waters several times, attempting to attach the cable to the car’s frame or axle or onto something that might work. After the third try, he got it hooked and pulled the lever on the winch, and the me
tal cable popped and tightened.
The old Mercury looked like a giant catfish poking up like that, still half-stuck, mud-soaked in debris and strangling algae.
The tow truck operator turned off the winch and restarted it again, but the old catfish wouldn’t budge. The nose of the half-sunken Mercury clung to the muddy floor of the Kentucky, slowly pulling, sliding the wrecker back toward the water, the heavy engine weighing it down. Finally, the man took the smaller winch on the front bumper of the wrecker and wrapped its cable securely around the nearest big tree.
As the Mercury was pulled up and out onto the gravel boat ramp, dirty water and mud sloshed out from underneath, poured out of cracks. Sediment, muck, and other debris that was hard to pinpoint, oozed out of its metal cavities.
Flannery edged closer. She didn’t notice Hollis had slipped up beside her. He gave a low whistle and said, “To think all that’s been right under our noses all along.”
Flannery strained for a better look, but couldn’t see inside, what with every window, every door and opportunity coated in thick, foul-smelling sludge.
The big tow truck pulled the vehicle up the ramp and onto a small, grassy knoll. A group of law officials surrounded it. A trooper stepped forward and pushed the small crowd of advancing watchers back, behind some imaginary line, urging folks to keep clear, go on home, threatening to ticket anyone who disobeyed.
Soon the coroner and his men arrived.
The tow truck operator slowly began wiping down the doors, handles, windows, and windshield with rags and long squeegees.
Hollis started to walk over and join the other men, but Flannery touched his uniform sleeve, tugged. “I want to see when they open it.”
He wrinkled his brow. “You can’t mean—?”
“I’ve been waiting twenty years, and I mean every word. Take me over there with you. I have every right to see. To see the last place I know she was. The last place you said she was.”
Hollis looked like he didn’t have the energy or time to argue with her and nodded. “It’s gonna be bad, and it’s gonna get busy. Stay out of our way,” he warned. “Us big dogs don’t play much,” he said in a stiff voice, again reminding her of that night in ’52.
* * *
Flannery crawled into bed on prom night, telling a string of half-truths, pretending to Mama she had the cramps and that Chubby’d told her to leave.
Mama had come home a little after nine, surprised to find Flannery in her nightgown, lying in bed, cuddling the water bottle to her stomach.
At once, Mama got the slippery elm lozenges out of the medicine cabinet and handed the tin to Flannery.
“Thanks, Mama,” Flannery said, taking out a lozenge and popping it into her mouth. She couldn’t stand to look at Mama with all the fuss she was making over her, all the untruths threatening to bubble up any minute, breaking open their story. Patsy’s and Danny’s, and hers and Hollis’s. It was so painful, she’d gotten herself a real whopping tummy ache for real.
“Let me go get you some more hot water in that, baby girl.” Mama lifted the rubber bottle off Flannery’s stomach.
“It’s okay.” Flannery tried to pull it back. “I know you want to get into your gown.”
Mama waved away her protests. “We’ll just make you some tea, too.”
Flannery knew it wouldn’t do any good to refuse.
Mama brought her some tea and the water bottle, then pulled the quilt up over her, tucking her in, telling her to sip some and get rested up.
When Mama finally abandoned her fussing with a good-night kiss and left, Flannery leaned over and flicked on the nightstand lamp.
She waited a second, listening, before getting out of bed. Then she dug the pearls out of her apron. Inspecting them, Flannery wondered what she should tell Mama, if anything, and when. No. No, Flannery decided; she’d surprise Patsy and pull them out in front of her in the morning, leaving Patsy to explain why she went off with those two drunken fools in the first place, tore her sister’s nylons, and stole Hollis’s automobile. Teasing the boys. All that for fornicating.
I’d know. Surely I’d know, Flannery thought. Though she didn’t know how, Flannery had always known things about Patsy before her sister shared them with her, just like Patsy knew things before Flannery told her.
There was her sister’s first kiss. Patsy’d come home, giggling, and dragged Flannery up to their room. Flushed, Patsy whispered, “Guess what, tadpole? Guess!”
Flannery saw the secret in her twin’s eyes and burst, “You’ve been kissed! What was it like? Who—”
Patsy laughed and grabbed her twin’s hands and pressed a long, hard kiss onto Flannery’s lips.
Shocked, Flannery’s eyes widened, and Patsy nodded her head and sighed. “It was the dreamiest.”
“Damn you, Hollis,” Flannery said. It’d be just like you to carry tall tales. Lying through your teeth. Still, Flannery wondered about him being knocked out like that. Hollis had been so sure. What could’ve happened so horrible to make Patsy and Danny hurt him like that?
“You better get home and explain yourself, Patsy Butler,” she said under her breath, “before Hollis gets his tongue to wagging—and I strike some choice ones off of mine.”
Mama would blame Patsy for everything, for getting them fired, for the whole cursed night.
Flannery slipped the pearls back into her apron pocket alongside the lucky bullet, rubbing the shiny copper for extra measure. Looking over her shoulder, cocking an ear for Mama’s footsteps in the hall, Flannery quietly pulled out her bottom dresser drawer and sat it on the floor. Carefully, she folded up her apron with the pearls and bullet inside and placed it against the back wall of the cubby, then slipped everything back inside its shelving, hiding her secrets.
Maybe she’d even make Patsy wait a few days. See her squirm some. Patsy would never find the pearls until Flannery was good and ready to let her.
Flannery tucked herself back into bed, keeping an eye on the dresser drawer, switching her gaze to the little bedside clock every few minutes. Soon she grew groggy and closed her lids.
It felt like she had been asleep only a short while when her mama woke her. “Get up, Flannery. Your sister’s not home from prom,” Mama said. “Baby girl.” She shook Flannery’s arm.
Flannery rubbed her sleepy eyes. Then, remembering everything, she pulled herself up onto her elbows.
“Patsy hasn’t come home yet. Do you know where she could be?” Mama asked.
Flannery looked to the clock, reached over to the nightstand between the beds, and picked it up. “She’s only an hour late, Mama.” Flannery plopped back down, groaned. “It’s only one fifteen.”
Outside, gravel crunched and popped. A flash of lights slashed through the darkened bedroom, spilling across the walls and furniture. Then came the slam of an automobile door. And one more.
Mama switched on the lamp.
“There she is,” Flannery said, burrowing her head back into the pillow.
Mama hurried over to the window and parted the sheers.
“Flannery, it’s Sheriff Henry,” Mama whispered over her shoulder. “Whatever could he want at this hour?”
Flannery bolted up from the bed and looked out the window with Mama.
Then Mama flew out of the room.
Scrambling into her robe, Flannery followed after her, peering over Mama’s shoulder as she opened the door for Sheriff and Hollis. Hollis peeked around his daddy’s shoulder, looking like he wished he could be anywhere but there, hands poked deep into his pockets, head hanging.
“Jean.” Sheriff took off his hat. Mama stepped aside, motioning for him to enter.
“Jack, what brings you out at this hour?” Mama asked nervously, tightening the sash on her robe. “Is Martha okay?” She asked after the sheriff’s wife.
Sheriff raised a hand. “Martha’s fine, and thank you for the nice apple crisp you gave her to bring home from canasta tonight.” He patted his belly in appreciation. “I’m here about Pats
y.”
“Patsy? My Patsy?” Mama looked at the sheriff and then to Flannery.
Flannery shrugged.
Sheriff pulled Hollis up to his side. “Yes. I’m sorry to say the kids were drinking.”
“Drinking? Patsy wouldn’t.” Mama’s eyes widened. “Jack, you can’t mean—”
“Yes, ma’am, it appears they were. They got into a scrap with Hollis here and took off in the Mercury. Haven’t been seen since.”
“Oh. Oh my.” Mama pressed a hand to her chest.
“I’ve been looking some, but they’re tucked tight outta sight so far,” Sheriff said.
“I need to sit,” Mama said.
Flannery grabbed Mama gently by the elbow. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have a seat, Mama,” she said, guiding her there, sneaking glances over her shoulder to Hollis.
The Henry men followed the Butler women. Flannery set Mama onto a chair and poured two glasses of water. One for Mama, one for herself. She didn’t think to ask the sheriff if he wanted one.
Mama, always gracious, never forgetting her hospitality, above all, caught it and questioned Flannery’s manners with her knowing eyes.
“Oh.” Flannery raised her glass to the men, offering to get them a drink.
Sherriff and Hollis wagged their heads no.
Sheriff Henry started in. “Hollis went looking for them at the prom, but the teachers said they never showed up. He waited around most of the night.” The sheriff looked at Flannery. “Did you see them down at Chubby’s?”
Flannery couldn’t speak, only shake her head and quickly gulp down her water.
“Flannery came home early,” Mama piped.
“Yes. Yessir, I sure did,” Flannery sputtered, and only that.
The Sisters of Glass Ferry Page 13