The Calling (Mae Martin Mysteries Book 1)

by Amber Foxx

  “Is Joe Broadus saying this stuff?”

  “I got no idea who’s saying it. Lots of people saying it.” Yolanda looked down, shifted her weight to her other foot, leaning her hip against Mae’s car, then brought her gaze up to meet Mae’s again. “What I wanted to tell you is that it looks bad, with you not going to church yourself. People put up with that from Hubert, but he’s from here, and everybody knows him down at Buddy’s. But you being from up in the mountains and kinda keeping to yourself like you do—might help a lot if you went to church. Pick one. It doesn’t matter which as long as you go. Think about it.”

  Mae stared at the ticket. I have to go to court, and then I have to go to church?

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  “All right. You have a good day, and get those tags quick. You can do it online now.” Yolanda walked back to her car, talking on a radio, and got into the cruiser.

  Mae started her car again, pulled out a little too fast, then slowed down. She didn’t need a speeding ticket, too.

  Church? She didn’t believe in it. Jim and Sallie went for political and economic connections and maybe it made sense to them, to be agnostics going to a place where people believed, but Mae had already had enough of pretending to be something she wasn’t.

  If she didn’t do this, though, Sallie’s political reputation might come undone, with the wild rumors circulating. Curses. Crystal balls. And Yolanda had heard that at church. Wasn’t gossip against religion?

  When Mae arrived at Health Quest, the front desk attendant told her that the orientation group had gone over to human resources at the hospital since that institution owned the fitness center. Mae drove to the hospital and tried to find the HR office in the maze of the administrative section of the building, all the while hoping nothing would make her run into her mother. By the time she found the office, the session was over.

  Fighting a panic—it had been so long since she’d had a job at all, and never a professional one—Mae called Jen and explained what had happened.

  “I can’t have you start work without the training, I’m sorry. It’s a rule. The next orientation is scheduled next Wednesday at the same time. I’ll take that client myself today. Mae, I expected you to be more responsible and organized, you always were. That’s why I held this job for you.”

  “I am. This isn’t normal for me at all.”

  “It can’t be. Late three times—that’s another policy—and you’re fired. You’d have heard that at orientation if you’d been there.”

  Another whole week without work—and without classes to go to or a test to study for. Feeling deflated, Mae went to the farm to offer to help with work there, but Jim and Sallie didn’t need her today. Could have used her at five a.m., they said, picking and bagging lettuce in the hoop house to take to Greenville, but they invited Mae to join them for lunch, anyway. Over egg salad sandwiches and coffee in the small informal dining room off the kitchen, Mae told them about Yolanda’s gossip report and church suggestion, as well as the ticket that delayed her work a full week.

  “They won’t do an orientation just for you?” Sallie shoved Sco’s head out of her lap and the dog moved on to Jim, who put up with him for about thirty seconds and sent him out the back door. “That’s the most bureaucratic, hidebound thing I ever heard of. But that’s that hospital for you. I hope I never get sick here.”

  “But it’s for the best Yolanda stopped you,” Jim said. “We needed to know how bad the talk was. Maybe church isn’t a bad idea. At least the monthly services at the Tylerton church.”

  “I reckon I could stand it once a month,” Mae said.

  “You certainly can,” Sallie said. “Eleven o’clock Sunday. This is the week. Dress up like you mean it.”

  Wearing a skirt and a silky blouse Rhoda-Rae had pushed on her a few years back, Mae felt like she was playing the role of a proper Southern church lady, sitting in a pew in the old Tylerton Episcopal church. The only light came through its high, narrow windows, striking the stone floor in stained-glass patterns. Amid the dark wooden pews, the velvet kneelers and the carved lectern, the priest’s vestments and the rituals seemed something out of history, contrasting with the living freshness of daffodils on each end of the altar.

  Mae’s mind kept wandering to how much her dressy shoes hurt her feet, and wanting to take them off. She hoped her discomfort served its purpose. See, that Martin-Ridley girl is no witchy-woman.

  Beside her, the twins fidgeted in their Sunday dresses while one of the pure-bred Tylers, a ruddy man with thick hair and a nasal voice, read from the Bible at the lectern. The girls had put on one blue sock and one pink sock each. Stream took her shoes off and swung her legs as if she wanted to paddle the pew like a little boat, while staring at the rafters, counting under her breath. Mae gestured to her to hold still and be quiet, and was startled to hear Stream squeal instead. Mae looked up.

  A bat flapped along the ceiling and towards the altar. As it came into view at the front of the church, a few women shrieked. The lay reader ducked as it passed within a foot of his fine head of hair, and several women rushed from their front pews to the back of the church. Unperturbed, the priest said with a smile, “All of God’s creatures are welcome.”

  The bat danced through the rafters for the rest of the service.

  When it was over, Mae and Hubert and Brook and Stream followed Jim and Sallie to the front door, where the priest, a tall, genial balding man, joked about pretending to have trouble remembering who Hubert was.

  “Some teenager who looked like you used to come to services. Football player ... Hm. Who was that now?”

  “Same guy.” Hubert grinned. “Married the softball star.”

  The priest chuckled, obviously enjoying his own humor. “Is that why she brought her bat?”

  Silence swept the people in line to talk with him. Heads turned, then voices whispered, one saying, “It certainly is a coincidence, isn’t it?” and another saying, “It most certainly is. Brought her bat, indeed.”

  Mae felt as if the world around the church doorway was closing in on her, with the happy priest in the middle of the swirl of suits and ties, dresses and styled hairdos, everyone staring, all their energy pointed at her like fingers, though their hands still held purses or stayed warm in coat pockets.

  A large crow cawed and landed on a stone near a holly bush towards the back of the yard. Mae knew too well whose grave it was: Elizabeth Andrews Tyler Ridley.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Oriented and employed at last, Mae was so excited about the new challenges that she sometimes forgot about the shadow of bad luck trailing her. She worked early shifts at Health Quest, not only training clients, but occasionally working the floor in the exercise areas, monitoring safety and answering questions, and it distracted her from thinking about Malba’s prediction. Then someone would let a weight stack machine clang or grunt too loudly on a heavy lift, and she looked around for the next disaster.

  On her third day on the job, shortly before her seven o’clock training session, Mae saw Patsy riding a stationary bicycle and felt an unexpected rush of relief. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her since the personal training course had ended. Those talks in the car going back and forth from CVU had added up to nine hours a week with someone who didn’t think Mae’s gift was strange or spooky. And even though Mae had put away being psychic, this feeling of being hexed fell into the questionable spiritual realm that no one in her family would understand, neither Christian Arnie nor the agnostic Ridleys. Patsy would.

  “Hey, how are you?” Mae stepped up onto the platform where the bikes overlooked the aerobics floor and the window to the pool.

  “Out of shape," Patsy said breathlessly, wiping her face with a towel. “I haven’t been in for two weeks and this is kicking my butt.”

  “I bet you were studying.”

  “You got that right. Research for Health Law, midterm in epi. And we have papers every week in Non-Western Health.” She pa
used and sipped from a water bottle in the stand on the bike. “Did you ever read those articles?”

  “Yeah, I did, most of ’em. Not all.” That didn’t sound grateful enough. “But I liked them, thanks.”

  “Good. I got you some of the DVDs.” Every sentence came out in gasps and spurts. “I remembered you wanted to see those. I think they’re still my car. We had the best class last week. Charlie and Bernadette have been splitting the class lately. He talked about his trip to study with shamans in South America, and then she talked about Native American spirituality and healing. She doesn’t talk about it much, so that was pretty special.”

  “Thank you.” Mae didn’t think she wanted to look at DVDs of Charlie and Bernadette, but she could hardly decline Patsy’s kindness. It was like cake you didn’t care for. You put a little piece on your plate and stuck your fork in a few times to be polite, but you didn’t say no. “That was real thoughtful of you.”

  “How have you been?” Patsy asked, still breathless.

  “I’ll tell you, but first—you’re working too hard. Slow down until you can carry on a conversation, and that’s not just because I like talking with you.”

  “Thanks. I’m trying to make up for lost time, like if I push myself I’ll undo my slacking.”

  Mae looked around the room to make sure she was not neglecting anyone in need of guidance or attention, but the only other exercisers this early were in the pool. Through the window Mae could see a water aerobics class churning through the water, led by an instructor who popped out onto the deck to demonstrate something and then sprang back in to join the group. Just behind the instructor a familiar auburn head led the crowd. Rhoda-Rae.

  Was this more bad luck following her? Since when had Mama joined Health Quest? Maybe Arnie’s promotion had made it possible to spend the money. But it felt like another thing that could go wrong—the possibility of running into her mother.

  “Does Mama use the weight room?” Mae asked Patsy.

  “No, she just swims and takes the water aerobics. Loves it. I think she likes showing off that she still looks good in a bathing suit. Not that I can blame her. If I looked that good, I’d do the same.” Patsy smiled, then looked more serious, “So, come on, how have you been? You doing all right since she cut you off?”

  “Kind of. Glad I’m here finally. Done working at that place in Virginia Beach.”

  “Why? You were so into the woo. It must have been fascinating.”

  “It got kind of weird, actually.”

  “I was wondering what was up with you. I could tell you weren’t as excited about that class any more. What happened?”

  “I’d rather not go into it.” She couldn’t talk to Patsy about Charlie and Bernadette. They were her professors. “Just—things I wish I hadn’t seen. And I been having this run of bad luck like you wouldn’t believe,” Mae hoped the sounds of the machines drowned her out, “after this other psychic at Healing Balance said I would.”

  Patsy sat straighter on the bike, sipped her water, and waited attentively, pedaling in steady silence.

  Quietly, Mae described the series of painful, expensive, or spooky mishaps, how the sprained ankle led to the water spill that drowned her phone, how the ticket led to ending up in church with the bat, and the graveyard crow.

  “I love that bat and crow.” Patsy’s eyes lit up. “That’s incredible.”

  “You love it? I didn’t like it one bit.”

  “Don’t you see? It’s perfect. The signs. The message.” Patsy glowed, and spoke as if narrating a movie trailer. “The spirit world wants your attention.”

  “I thought you’d be the one person in the world who’d take me seriously.”

  “I do.” Patsy slowed her ride down. “And I think it’s thrilling. If had a calling like that, I’d be honored, and I’d answer.”

  “Bats and crows are like death things. Feels more like someone put a curse on me, than like anything’s calling.”

  “Exactly. You’ll be cursed until you take up your calling. I bet you didn’t read that article yet, Keeney and Walking Thunder, from Shaman’s Drum. You should.” Patsy came to a stop. “You’ll probably tell me I didn’t cool down long enough, but I have to get to work at seven. I’ll leave the DVDs at front desk for you. Is that good?”

  “Yeah, thanks. And you didn’t cool down long enough. Maybe you need a trainer, get you to do things right.”

  As she swung off the bike, Patsy took her water bottle from the holder. “Got any six a.m. openings?”

  “All of them. My earliest person is at seven. Mary Carter Hoggard.”

  “Whoa.” Dropping her towel into a nearby laundry basket, Patsy stepped down from the platform and looked back at Mae. “Doesn’t that make you nervous? Talk about bad luck.”

  “Mary Carter is a sweetheart. I know she’s—” Mae chose her words carefully, not wanting to share medical information about a breast cancer survivor, “—complicated, but she’s wonderful.”

  “But her husband’s Roger Hoggard. You know Doctor Hoggard is head of the board, right? That runs this place for the hospital?”

  “Might have heard it at orientation, I don’t remember the board’s names.”

  “Orthopedist, sports medicine. Actually, you can see him in the pool now, the real tall skinny guy with the white hair. Be nice to him, and be a good, good trainer for his wife. He thinks he owns this place. You mess up with Mary Carter, you can kiss your job goodbye.”

  Mae checked on the weight room, making a little small talk with the members there, and walked to the window that overlooked the pool. Below, she could see Dr. Hoggard and her mother leading the pack of exercisers as the instructor demonstrated on the deck, urging the group to work harder. Wearing webbed gloves, the group ran forward as if clapping their hands underwater in front of their chests, and Mae briefly analyzed the way the exercise worked, but was more attentive to Dr. Hoggard himself, and to Rhoda-Rae. They laughed, splashed each other in what looked like a game to see who could push the water harder, and then Rhoda-Rae jumped high and gave a big splash with her trademark girlish giggle-shriek.

  Repelled, Mae walked away. The man was sixty or older, and married. Mae's client’s husband. The man Mae had to keep happy. The doctor and her mama wouldn’t do that in public if they were having an affair, though, they’d be all sneaky and secretive like Charlie and Dana. Still, it was tacky and kind of high schoolish.

  To get ready for Mary Carter’s appointment, Mae walked back into the trainers’ office. Taking a key from her desk, she unlocked the file cabinet to review Mary Carter’s program. The concern that a single mistake in Mrs. Hoggard’s training could cost her her job made Mae review her plans and the medical concerns for this client especially thoroughly. Satisfied that she was prepared, she re-filed the medical clearance form and relocked the cabinet, then took the program with her to the exercise area.

  Mary Carter had arrived early. She looked low-spirited as she leaned her back on the barre in the aerobics area, gazing through the window to the pool. Rhoda-Rae, whooping with delight, seemed to be racing Dr. Hoggard in a set of sideways traveling jumping jacks, and he smiled as he sliced through the water beside her.

  “Hey, Ms. Hoggard.” Mae had to get her client’s eyes off that. “Good to see you. How are you?”

  The pale, soft woman with the crisp, permed hair snapped her head around and put on a smile. “I’m fine, honey. I’m fine.” With a glance at the pool, Mary Carter pushed herself off the barre. “That mother of yours sure is a firecracker, isn’t she?”

  “I reckon you could call her that.” She thinks she sees her flirting, too. “Let’s get you warming up on the treadmill and go over what you’re doing today.” Mae intentionally led the way to a part of the room with no view of the pool, where the treadmills faced the wall and a bank of TV’s. “Remember to put that clip for the emergency shut-off key on your shirt and stand on the sides when you start it.”

  “You know, I never exercised in my life.” Ma
ry Carter started the treadmill at a slow pace and stepped onto the belt, holding the railings and watching her feet. “Hated it. But I want to get myself in tip-top shape. Should I jog on this?”

  Mae didn't like the way her client walked on this machine, like she didn't trust it. Should have used a bike, it would have been better for her—but then she would have been facing the pool. “Not yet. Get used to the belt moving for now and try not to look at your feet, it makes your balance worse. Walk like you would on the floor, if you can.”

  Mrs. Hoggard raised her head stiffly. “I’d like to take some weight off, though. Jogging would burn more calories.” She looked at her speed on the machine, clutching the railings so hard that her hands turned white. “Should I go a little faster?”

  “This is only a warm-up. If you want to lose weight, the strength training will pick up your metabolism. And you can take some longer walks outside on the days you’re not here. My step-daddy’s been walking a lot and he’s lost some weight.”

  “Yes, I can imagine he wants to shape up, too.”

  Mary Carter stabbed the speed button on the treadmill and it suddenly sped up. She staggered and grabbed at the railing, but the belt spun her backwards. Mae lunged to catch her before she fell and guided her to stand behind the machine. From the bright red clip on Mary Carter’s shirt dangled a broken cord, detached from the emergency key, which was still in the treadmill’s dashboard.

  Mary Carter let out a little vocalized exhalation as Mae removed the clip and put it in her pocket. She needed to get this fixed right way. How in the world could it have come loose like that? Still feeling the adrenaline rush, Mae asked, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Mary Carter walked over to the leg extension machine and sat down, her voice shaky. “Just gave myself a fright, that’s all.”

  “Let me call someone to fix this treadmill so it doesn’t scare anybody else.” Mae walked to the counter and picked up the in-house phone, called the manager on duty, and returned to Mary Carter. Something had bothered her to make her jab the machine so hard. The mention of Arnie shaping up. Mae was so proud of Arnie, but it had been stupid to mention it. She should have realized that. “You’re sure you’re all right, now?”