Sunshine Walkingstick Omnibus

by Celia Roman

  “Are you going to go with him?”

  I snorted. “I’m crazy, Missy, not stupid.”

  “Well, I’m sure he meant well. He sounds like such a nice young man.”

  “That’s the way he struck me.” I eyed her glum expression and tapped a thumb against my stomach. “You ok?”

  “What? Oh, of course.” Her mouth twisted into a slight frown. “I just realized Fame and I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

  “You tell him you wanna go out, he’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

  “Perhaps.” She shook her head a mite, wobbling the curls piled on top of her head, and smiled. “With all the investigating you’re doing, I have to assume you’ve decided to take on Belinda’s case.”

  “Not yet. There’s something there I can’t quite pin down.”

  I sighed and fixed my gaze on the ceiling above her head. One of them things I was uneasy about was Teus. Since Missy’d warned me to stay away from him, I didn’t feel right telling her about that dance. I sure didn’t wanna share my suspicions about him having more to do with what was going on in the cove than he let on.

  “I’ll think on it some more, maybe poke around a little. I don’t know. Don’t seem like there’s much of a rush. Leastwise, nobody seemed right anxious about it.” Ticked off, yeah. Eager to figure out the problem, not so much. “Say, did I tell you about the getup Belinda was wearing?”

  Missy relaxed under my description of the God awful way Belinda’d gommed herself up, and I only exaggerated a little in the telling. By the time she left, I’d worked my way through the bacon biscuit and coffee she brung me, and her smile was firmly in place once more.

  A day without Missy’s smile was a sorry day indeed. That thought kept a smile on my own mug right up ‘til suppertime.

  Chapter Nine

  Riley called about five minutes after I sat down to supper with a reheated plate of leftovers. I pushed ‘em away with nary a regret and answered my phone.

  “Hey, Sunny.” His yawn drifted through the phone. “Sorry. Didn’t sleep much last night.”

  I smiled and dug the toe of my boot into the carpet, and spun my chair around. “Too much of Millard Willoughby’s ‘shine?”

  “Not enough of Sunshine Walkingstick,” he retorted. “You haven’t changed your mind about tomorrow, have you?”

  “I promised I’d go, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t mean you haven’t changed your mind.” He sighed and that leather creaking sound come over the line. “How was your day?”

  “Oh, about the same as usual. Missy come by and listened to me gossip about Rhapsody. How was yourn?”

  “Pretty routine. A couple of people fishing in the Tallulah River without a license. They weren’t too happy with the tickets I wrote.”

  “They never is,” I murmured. Hadn’t I heard enough complaints of the like from my own kin?

  “Had an e-mail from the guy that tests our water,” Riley said. “He said it might be a while.”

  “Wish he’d hurry.”

  “It’s the government, Sunny. Nobody’s ever in a hurry.”

  The slow humor in his drawl warmed me to the core. “What time you wanna step out tomorrow?”

  “Depends on what you want to see.”

  “I don’t rightly care. Long as it ain’t too mushy, I’m fine.”

  “We’ll go to a matinee, then, right after lunch.”

  “Want me to come out to your place?”

  “Forget it. I’m picking you up, treating you like a queen, and stealing a kiss at the end of the night.”

  “Hunh.” I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back that stupid grin. “Sounds like you got it all worked out.”

  He was quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

  Was that a thread of regret in his voice, maybe doubt? I clutched my phone and swallowed down the disappointment. Well, it’d been nice thinking about being on a real date, anyhow. Too bad he changed his mind, and quicker’n greased lightning, too. Wasn’t that just like a man?

  “It’s ok, Riley.”

  “It is?” he asked softly.

  “Yeah. Um, listen, I gotta go now. You take care.”

  “Wait, Sunny, what…”

  I hung up and dropped my phone on top of my desk, and stared at the cold plate of food sitting there. A nasty knot formed in my stomach, shoving out the hunger. Damn it all. Why had I let my hopes get so high? Hadn’t I learnt a million times over how it didn’t pay to dream about Riley Treadwell?

  My phone beeped. I picked it up and grunted. A text from Riley. Danged if I was gonna open it. Danged if I was gonna wallow in my misery, either. I stood up, dug a quarter outta my pocket, and dropped it in the cussing jar. My phone beeped again, and I scrubbed my hands over my face. He was one persistent booger, weren’t he?

  I wrapped up my supper, stuck it in the fridge, and stalked outta the house. Only one cure for what ailed me, and that was a good, long visit with Henry. I stayed out there ‘til dark, letting the calm of the deep wood seep into my bones and soothe away the hurt stinging my throat something fierce.

  Hard bangs on my front door woke me early the next morning, snapping me out of a deep, dreamless sleep. I stumbled outta bed cursing ever single morning person I knowed. The list was a long’un, so it took me plumb from the time I yanked on pants to the time I answered the door to spread the meanness around.

  I jerked open the door, ready to cuss and spit, and stopped with my mouth wide open. Old Mother stood on my porch, her black as night eyes fixed on something only she could see. Thing is, I knowed a lotta crazy people with wild eyes and a heart to match. Fame was one of ‘em, my mama another, which made an odd sorta sense, seeing as how they was brother and sister.

  There was one guy, though, this Army veteran what’d gone to school with me way back when. He come back from Iraq all wrong, twisted by too much blood and too many innocent folks ruined under the hammer of war. His eyes had changed, becoming a mite too much like Old Mother’s, strange and cloudy. I always got the sense he was looking into death itself. Not long after, his wife found him hanging from a tree in their front yard, his sightless eyes still as crazy as they was before. God rest his soul, there was only so much a body could take before the mind snapped.

  Old Mother, though, she was an odd’un. She turned up in the next holler over about the time my mama sliced up my daddy, and been there ever since. Nobody knowed where she come from, but we all knowed what she was. We didn’t call her Old Mother for nothing, and sure as tootin’ not ‘cause of her age. Way I figured, she weren’t much older’n me. It was her visions what earned her the name, them and the hoodoo she practiced for anybody what coughed up enough coin or goods in trade.

  I stepped back and opened the door wide. “Come on in, Old Mother.”

  “Sunshine.” She stepped over the stoop like it was a foot taller’n it was, her calloused, bare feet graceful as a ballerina’s. “You dreamed of me.”

  “Respectfully, I didn’t dream about nothing last night.” I shut the door and slumped into the chair behind my desk. This was getting to be a habit, and it weren’t one I enjoyed particularly well. “You want something to drink or something? I could make some coffee.”

  “You dreamed of the water, and the water is more important.” She held up an ebony-skinned finger, her smooth face expressionless. “The water comes for you, Sunshine. It wouldn’t do to give in to it.”

  A chill shivered down my spine. I curled my arms around my scrawny chest and hunched into myself. “I ain’t got no intention of going near the water, Old Mother.”

  “Has the water not called you? Have you not been selected by him?”

  I frowned. “I got a potential job out on Lake Burton. Ain’t decided what to do about it yet, though.”

  Her nostrils flared. “You lie. The sun has persuaded you.”

  “I got no idea what you’re talking about. What sun?”

  “The one making his way to you as we speak.” She
tilted her head, listening to the beyond, for all I knowed. “Be wary of the water, Sunshine, and dream no more.”

  “I told you, I didn’t dream about nothing.”

  “The water comes. It burns and seethes and roils in the deep over the old man’s home.” Her eyes rolled back, showing the whites, and she rocked back and forth in the chair. “The water holds death for the mother of the spirit. It demands, and the light will give.”

  “Okey dokey, then.”

  I stood and clapped my hands together one time. Old Mother went rigid in her chair and focused them eerie eyes on me. Without another word, she rose and left, gliding out my front door like we hadn’t just been talking portents and signs. I dropped back into my chair on a hefty sigh. She drug me outta bed, rousing me early enough for me to forget my vow to quit cussing, and all I had to show for it was a headache and the faint aroma of burnt sage lingering around her chair.

  I counted up the cuss words I used up that morning and dropped a like amount of quarters in my cussing jar, then slipped into the shower and let the hot water pound the megrims away. Somebody knocked on my door as I was stepping out, and I grimaced. What was this, the Grand Central Terminal? I glanced at the digital numbers on my alarm clock and did a double take. Twelve thirty. That couldn’t be right. Old Mother’d been here not half an hour before, and she woke me up at six on the dot.

  The door banged again, interrupting my musings.

  “I’m coming,” I hollered, and wrapped a towel around myself. I scurried through the trailer and yanked the door open, and for the second time that day, gaped at my visitor.

  Riley stood on the other side, all six foot something of him, wearing a khaki colored button-down shirt tucked into good jeans. Them hazel eyes of his slid down my near naked form and a slow smile spread across his face. “I guess you’re not ready yet.”

  I hid behind the door and peeked out around it. “Ready for what?”

  “Our date.” He tapped the face of his watch. “I told you I’d be here right after lunch.”

  I rubbed my eyes hard and near about lost my grip on the towel. “You acted like you didn’t wanna go no more, so I figured I’d putter around the house or something.”

  “I never,” he said flatly. “Guess that explains why you hung up on me.”

  “It was time for me to go,” I said tartly. The wind blew through the door, raising goose bumps along my skin as it went. “Since you’re here, you might as well come in.”

  He slid inside through the narrow gap I’d left and shut the door. I turned on my heel and stalked into my bedroom. Lord have mercy, I weren’t in no mood for fickle men, but there I was, stuck with one. I rummaged through my dresser drawers, gathering together clothes, and slapped them onto the top of my dresser.

  “A nice t-shirt, Sunny.”

  I yelped and whirled around. Riley was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, that slow smile still on his face.

  “What’re you doing in my bedroom?”

  “Followed you in.” He lifted one well-formed shoulder in a brief shrug. “Figured we could talk while you get dressed.”

  “You figured… Ooo. You turn around right this instance, Riley Treadwell.”

  He rolled his eyes and turned around, leaning against the doorframe in the exact same position with his back to me. “Happy?”

  I snorted and let the towel drop, then shimmied into underpants. “Not by a long shot. Next person banging on my door before the sun’s good and up is gonna get more’n an earful from me.”

  “It’s after noon, Sunny.” He sighed and shifted into a wide-legged stance. “Who drew the hex signs on your door?”

  I bobbled my shirt and gaped at him. “What hex signs?”

  “About a dozen of ‘em, all up and down the door.” He half-turned toward me. “You didn’t see ‘em?”

  “I was kinda busy holding my towel in place.”

  “You could’ve let go. I wouldn’t have looked.”

  “Lying on a Sunday earns you double time in Hell.”

  He snickered. “God, Sunny, where do you come up with that shit?”

  Since I made that’un up on the spot, I changed the subject. “What’re you doing here anyhow?”

  “We have a date,” he said, and his voice was so calm and even, it shamed me. “Are you putting on a nice t-shirt?”

  I held the one in my hand up, then shoved it back into my drawer and selected one without any holes worn through the fabric. “I ain’t even had lunch yet.”

  “So I’ll feed you twice. You owe me two meals anyway.”

  “And you’re gonna use ‘em both up today?” I finished dressing and sat down on the edge of the bed with socks, boots, and Daddy’s holstered knife filling my hands. “You can turn around now.”

  He did, resettling himself with his hands on his hips. “Well, damn. I missed all the good stuff.”

  “Not likely. Who says I’m gonna go with you?”

  “That t-shirt.” He sat down next to me and bumped his shoulder into mine. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Stop jumping to conclusions about me. I don’t know where you got the idea I didn’t want to go out with you, especially when I’ve been hounding you for a date for a solid two weeks now, longer if you count the times I asked you out in high school.”

  I fixed my attention on my boots, tying ‘em up tight over the knife strapped to my ankle, leaving the hilt free. High school weren’t something I liked to dwell on, if I could help it. “You never asked me out back then.”

  “Jesus, Sunny.” He propped his elbows on his thighs and dropped his head into his palms. “Ok, look. Forget the past. We’ve got a chance here to be friends again, the way we used to be. Don’t you want that?”

  Maybe I did, more’n I thought, and maybe I was just tired of being hurt. “You wanna be friends?”

  “I want to start with friendship,” he corrected, gentle as a lamb. “What’s wrong with that?”

  Ever thing, far as I could tell, and nothing a’tall. “I reckon friends is ok.”

  “That’s my girl.” He tugged on the wet strands of my hair and smacked a kiss to my temple. “Finish getting dressed. If we hurry, we still have time to make the early matinee.”

  “I gotta eat.”

  “We’ll stop by a drive-thru, pick up some burgers.” I pulled a sour face at him, and he grinned. “Hey, nothing but the best for you, Sunshine.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that,” I grumbled, but once I was in the bathroom with the door firmly shut on him, I grinned at my reflection in the mirror. I was going on a date with Riley Treadwell, captain of the high school football team, all star basketball player, and military hero. The teenager in me was thrilled no end, but it was the woman I saw staring back at me, her dark eyes sparkling, her skin flushed pink, and it was the woman wanting him to soothe the hurts the teenager had endured for lack of him in her life.

  I combed out my hair, toweled most of the moisture out of it, and twisted it into a simple braid. One day, I was gonna have to face the truth about Riley hidden deep inside myself, but not today. I brushed my teeth, slapped on some moisturizer, and walked outta the bathroom, leaving that hurt teenager behind once and for all.

  Chapter Ten

  My date with Riley went fine, and that shoulda been a warning to me.

  He fed me twice, just like he promised, carried me to a movie what weren’t a bit mushy, and brung me home again. His goodnight kiss was sweet and tender and, somehow, even better’n the first’un. I didn’t dwell too long on why that might be. Way I figured it, the more I thought about having Riley Treadwell’s mouth on mine, the more I’d want it, and the more I wanted his kiss, the more I’d want him to do other things.

  I didn’t rightly intend on becoming his next ex. Friends was safe enough, goodnight kisses aside, and about all I could handle anyhow.

  When I come home, I didn’t even think on messing with them hex signs. Old Mother put ‘em the
re for a reason, and it’d be better all the way around if I just let ‘em be.

  Next day, I lit out searching for Missy’s ring, hitting Ingles and ever pawn shop in Clayton again, then spreading out to the surrounding towns. I even drove up to Franklin and down to Clarkesville, and no luck in either direction. Maybe somebody was holding on to it, but why? They give it back and Fame wouldn’t do more’n give ‘em a good talking to, but if they held on to it and Fame found out? Well, I wouldn’t wanna be standing in their shoes when he come a-knocking. My uncle took the eye for an eye part of the Good Book a mite too serious.

  On the way back home, I pulled over in the old shirt factory’s parking lot and considered my options. North and south had been a bust. East and west was the next logical step. West was ok. Hiawassee and Blairsville wouldn’t take long to hit, even if I added Hayesville and Murphy to my route. The four towns wasn’t all that far apart and folks in that area tended to move around a lot between ‘em. They wasn’t far from home, neither, so it’d be an easy trip.

  Eastbound was a sight more problematic. Wasn’t nothing in Long Creek, but to be thorough, I’d have to hit Mountain Rest, if there was even anything open. Walhalla and Westminster, too, and Lord only knowed what other bitty towns. I weren’t nearly as familiar with that area as I was with the western towns, so it’d probably take a whole day to scout and scour pawn shops and the like.

  I checked the time on my phone. It was after lunch. Chances was good I could make a thorough run of the western towns in one afternoon. I pursed my lips and tapped my fingers in time to the Rolling Stones. Westward it was, then. I could hit the towns past Rabun County’s eastern border the next day unless something more urgent come up.

  I put the IROC in gear and drove through the shirt factory’s parking lot toward Old 441. Hadn’t made it far when my phone rung. I eased to the side of the lot, checked the caller, and answered it.