by Amber Foxx
“You think Mrs. Childress was a witch?”
“She sure as hell wasn’t Dorothy.” Pamela leaned back and folded her arms, propping her stocking feet up on her desk. “I never went back to find out any more. I’d already learned everything I needed to know.”
“Did Charlie ever talk about her? In his classes?”
“No. He officially only studied with our made-up shamans. Heck, she’s right around the corner and tells fortunes for sailors. That won’t impress anybody.”
Mae was glad to find her client was only a diamond-ass bitch, and not a witch. “Maybe he wanted to keep that wolf power a secret.”
“I bet he does. Because he probably uses it on his women now—like he used it to spy on me.”
Chapter Thirty
Spying. The word grabbed Mae’s attention. “Could you see it when he did this?”
“If I was quiet and alone, I could. I’d feel it follow me home from work, or like it was next to me here in the office, and I’d call him and tell him to back off. ‘I catch you trying to catch me.’ He was jealous as hell even before I gave him a reason to be. Which I eventually did. I mean, our relationship was one of those things that had an expiration date. It was just a matter of who got too old for whose tastes first. I care about my body, as you know, and he stopped caring about his, so I started caring about some others. And I wouldn’t notice the wolf if I was drinking or partying, but he’d tell me later that he’d been watching. I’m sure that’s how he caught me—sent it after me, and I was having too much fun to notice.”
“But that’s all he does with it?”
“That’s all?” Pamela swung her feet back down and leaned forward. “Excuse me, but I can’t think of anything worse. Somebody looking in on you any old time he feels like it? I hope the damned wolf had a heart attack with him.” For a flash of a second, the rage of the girl who had scribbled the ugly picture of Charlie burned again, then faded. “You can tell this student he does that. You can tell her he faked his shaman trip. I’ll tell Marla. And if this other girl doesn’t buy it from you ...” Pamela took a deep breath. “You can tell her to come talk to me. But don’t mention my name if you don’t have to.”
“I won’t. I hope she believes me. Thank you.”
“And when I see you tomorrow, we don’t talk about this. I’m glad I unloaded it, but if you ever mention Charlie Tann to me again, you’re fired.”
Mae felt glad to step out into the city noise and street-dust sunlight. Even just hearing the story in Pamela’s office, she felt like she’d been in Mrs. Childress’s house, with the cigar smoke and the feathers and the grunting, snoring little dog. And Charlie learning how to be a wolf.
As she walked back to the Madison, she reviewed what Bernadette had told her about the wolf’s visits. It used to simply sit by her, but when she started refusing him it became aggressive with a more desperate energy. Had he known he was seeing Mae when he intruded on her as well as Bernadette? At the time, Mae told herself that he’d mistaken her for Bernadette, but now she had doubts. He might have been testing her, to see if she would respond the way Randi had.
Charlie, who had attacked Mae for using the sight at Dana’s request, had been using his powers to harass his girlfriends, powers he stoked from these women’s own life force. Using it on Randi as sexual energy, using it on Bernadette as a stalker. Dana would be next, if he hadn’t started sending the wolf after her already.
Dana’s request had been close to giving Charlie a taste of his own bad medicine, through Mae. It was an uncomfortable feeling. In spite of their different intentions, Charlie’s spying reminded her how disturbing it was to realize that someone had the power to look at you at any time, and how genuinely troubling her own gift was to Hubert once he finally knew it was real, and to Rhoda-Rae.
Mae couldn’t undo her visions of Charlie, but she could at least undo accepting his money for them, the money he’d given to Dana. She would tell Dana everything she’d learned from Pamela and from cleaning the office, but some of the psychic material was too private. The truth, even without it, was strong enough reason for Dana not to choose him.
When Mae got back to Bernadette’s apartment, she sat at the desk and did a quick calculation to make sure she still had enough money to give the cash back. Her budget would be squeezed dry. But it felt better this way. She called Dana.
Dana answered right away, for a change.
“Hey, it’s Mae. I need to tell you something big.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t care about Charlie’s other relationships. They’re over. He needs me now. You can stop.”
“It’s not about who sleeps he with, it’s about who he is.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Some serious stuff. How much time do you have?”
“About a minute.”
“Are you on campus this week?”
Dana’s voice grew tight and her words clipped. “Tomorrow at four.”
“I can meet you before or after your class.”
“I’m not sure I want to.”
“I’m gonna give you your money back on anything I did outside of Healing Balance.”
“Why?” Dana said. “You did the work.”
“I’ll explain when I see you.”
“Fine.” It was more an expression of impatience than agreement. “I can get there at quarter of. My class is in Branson. It’s two down from Spruce towards the campus center. Now I have to go.” She hung up.
This was going to be hard. Fifteen minutes to land the big fish. The papers he didn’t grade. The fake research and travels. The wolf witch, the stalking and harassment. It was a lot to haul in and drop in front of Dana that fast. But then, Dana wasn’t some delicate flower. She might be able to take it.
As she walked up the stone steps to Branson, Mae saw Dana standing in the lobby, watching her. When Mae reached the top step, Dana stepped outside.
“Make it quick.”
Mae took a breath and dumped everything she knew. It felt rude and abrupt, but it was the only way to make sure Dana listened. Mae explained that she’d learned most of it through observations and conversations. The psychic work had been intrusive and unnecessary. Paula and Bernadette had seen all the neglected papers, and if Paula was willing to be that honest about Charlie, she could tell Dana that Charlie had relationships with students through his whole career. The final blow, Mae hoped, was that Charlie’s ex was willing to talk about the fake research and the wolf witch stalking, if she had to, to keep Dana from getting mixed up with Charlie. When she finished, Mae proffered the refunded money.
“I don’t have time to talk to Paula or this other woman.” Dana stared at the cash without taking it. “Charlie can finally have visitors tonight. I want to see him.”
“Then talk to them later if you don’t believe me. Did Randi tell you what he did to her?”
Dana paced across the broad granite landing, and Mae stood aside for a group of students coming out the door. More approached the steps. It had to be getting close to four. Dana stared at a brass plaque on the brick wall in front of her face. “Yes.”
“I hope you believed her. I’ve seen that wolf and—”
“So have I. But I thought it was magic. I thought it made him wonderful.” Dana picked at the chipped corner of a brick in silence, then hit it with her small fist. “How can I break up with him in a hospital? God. I can’t believe he’s that ... that ...”She searched for a word, staring off into a space down the steps. “Corrupt.”
“You will. When you’re stationed somewhere in Afghanistan with a bunch of men and you’re the only woman, and he starts stalking you all night as a wolf to see if you’re cheating on him—”
“He wouldn’t,” Dana snapped. She glanced at Mae, then looked at the wall again, one hand pressed flat against the bricks. “I mean, if I stay with him,” her voice dropped, “I don’t reenlist.”
“Great. You’ve been a mother and an airman and a wife—now
you’ll be what?”
“He wants me to be safe.”
“He wants you to be his.”
Dana met Mae’s eyes and held them. Mae thought she saw a decision flash through Dana’s, a light shifting so rapidly it was gone by the time Mae understood it had happened. When Dana spoke again, she sounded certain and calm as she finally took the money back. “Thank you.” This time Mae detected actual gratitude in her voice.
Dana turned, the automatic doors spread to let her through, and she disappeared down the hall. Mae pictured a scoreboard lighting up. Mae, three, Charlie zero. One more to go and the game was won.
On Friday morning during her workout, Pamela casually mentioned, with a satisfied smile, what a nice talk she’d had with her little sister. Mae nodded, and refocused their attention to Pamela’s technique on barbell squats. Both trainer and client acted as if the conversation about Charlie had never happened.
When Mae returned to the Madison, Bernadette was at the table drinking coffee and eating breakfast, still barefoot though dressed for teaching. “Are you looking forward to your visit?” she asked. “It’s been a long week for you.”
In the kitchen, Mae filled her travel mug with strong black coffee. “I am and I’m not. I’m dying to see the girls.”
“What’s the ‘am not’?”
Mae snapped the lid on the mug and joined Bernadette at the table. “The in-laws. But mostly my mama. I have to go see her first.” It cast a shadow over the cautious joy Mae felt about seeing the twins. She would have to visit them at the farm, and for only an hour, plus it was awkward being around Jim and Sallie. And Rhoda-Rae would be in the middle of packing to move out of the trailer, probably in high-drama mode. “We’re not even friends anymore. She and my stepdad are splitting and she’s moving to Florida with this man she’s been fooling around with. Sometimes I can stay calm around her, I’m so used to her stuff, but even when I manage to keep a lid on, she’s still yanking my strings and I want to smack her upside the head. I swear she can charm the rest of the world, but not me. Put her in a manipulation contest with Charlie and I think they’d have a tie.”
Peeling an orange, Bernadette smiled. “Maybe that’s why Charlie never charmed you. You’ve been vaccinated. In the epidemiology of Charlie, you are one of the few exposed but unaffected.” She squeezed a seed out of an orange section, then ate the piece of orange and wiped her hands on a napkin. “He’s still in the hospital.”
“I reckon you visiting him is like me seeing Mama. Kind of have to, think you ought, but ...”
Bernadette nodded. “They can’t get his blood pressure down, and he’s still in a lot of pain. He’s had some complications. It’s not like he’s dying, but he’s not healing well either.” She looked down, peeled more of the orange. “No, I don’t like going to see him. I’m trying to forgive him. But he won’t forgive me. And I didn’t do anything to him. I may have to let it go and stop trying. Find peace on my own.”
Mae wondered if that was what she would end up doing with her mother. Rhoda-Rae had done all the harm, as far as Mae could see, yet she seemed to hold a grudge against Mae nonetheless.
“I hope he gets better. And that you feel better about it.” Mae stood, slung the strap of her purse over one shoulder. “I’ll see you late tonight. I’ll probably go straight to Healing Balance when I come back. Gotta get there through rush hour.”
“When do you get done?”
“If I don’t get extra clients, I’m done at six-thirty. If I’m lucky I’ll work later.”
“Visiting hours are until eight. You should go see Charlie.”
“You’re kidding. Why?”
“He won’t say.” Bernadette separated another orange section and squeezed a seed onto her plate. “But he’s been asking for you.”
Ideas ranging from he wants to call in those favors to he wants to yell at me tossed restlessly through Mae’s mind as she drove. He couldn’t hurt her, though, could he? He’d lost all his power if he’d lost all his women. Ninety minutes of guessing alternating with listening to music and news brought her to the Gaskins trailer.
The pink dogwoods on either side of the small yard almost hid the trailer from view, but as Mae pulled up she could see that the windows were open and could hear music playing. As expected, Arnie’s car was absent, and Rhoda-Rae’s sat in the driveway.
The front door was open with the screen door closed. Mae knocked on the aluminum frame, not sure she could be heard over an upbeat and humorous country song about getting caught being bad. Agitation and regret competed for space in her heart. Seeing her mother never brought any good feelings. There had to have been some good times, yet none came to mind. But this was her mother. When Mae had left Mack, Rhoda-Rae and Arnie had taken her in. It wasn’t a pleasant time, but they’d been poor, and the gesture had been kind. Must have come from Arnie.
Mae knocked again. Rhoda-Rae had to be in the bedroom packing her clothes. “Mama?”
“What in the world?” Rhoda-Rae emerged from the bedroom, dressed in crisp jeans and a neatly tucked-in baby-blue T-shirt, wearing earrings and make-up, even though she was alone in the house. She peered at the door as if it were hard to see through the screen. “Rhoda-Mae?”
Don’t call me that. “Hey. I wanted to see if I can help. And see you before you go.”
“Well, come on in, don’t just stand there.” Rhoda-Rae strode back into the bedroom and turned the music down low. Mae let herself in. As the light door rattled shut behind her, Mae followed her mother into the bedroom Rhoda-Rae had shared with Arnie. Suitcases and boxes covered the floor and the bed. Each seemed to contain a category of clothing, or a particular type of personal item, everything sorted by season or use.
“So what did you do? Use the sight and spy on me to see how bad it had gotten?”
“No.” Mae restrained the urge to argue. This was supposed to be a helpful visit. “Arnie asked me to come. He told me y’all were breaking up, and that if I wanted to see you, I’d better come over.”
“Well isn’t that the sweetest.” Rhoda-Rae folded a slinky satin nightgown into a tiny square and placed it in a suitcase with other lingerie. “I’m surprised you showed up.”
Hoping to defuse the tension, Mae went to the closet and brought some of her mother’s dresses out onto the bed, beginning to take them off their hangers and fold them. “I know you didn’t ask—”
“Roll the knits, don’t fold them. And don’t put them in anything. I’ve got a system.” Rhoda-Rae’s eyes blazed and she paused, holding a blouse that she’d started to fold. “And you’re darned right I didn’t ask. I hadn’t planned on leaving town tarred and feathered by gossip, but thanks to you and Mary Carter—”
“I had nothing to do with it. If Mary Carter said anything it was all her doing. And she had the right.”
Rhoda-Rae resumed folding if she were slapping the blouse, and shoved it into a box with other shirts on the floor. “Dear Jesus.” She looked to the ceiling. “I am being tested.”
“Honestly, Mama, I don’t see how moving to Florida with a rich doctor is exactly a test.”
“I’m talking about you. You try me sorely.”
Mae bit her lip as she rolled up a black knit dress, trying not to say what she wanted to. She had to keep reminding herself, she was doing this for Arnie, because he wanted to think he’d made peace between them.
Rhoda-Rae sniffed and disappeared into the bathroom. Fake crying over her false sufferings? Mae heard a discreet honk. When Rhoda-Rae returned to the bedroom, she began placing the dresses Mae had rolled into the appropriate suitcases. With a new, syrupy tone, as if her departure had been a trip backstage to learn a new role and lines, Rhoda-Rae said, “I can help you put your life back together, sugar.”
“Thanks, but you don’t need to. I’m—”
“I can talk to Roger about getting you your job back. He’s still on the board through the end of the day. I know you messed up pretty bad, but he’s got some influence—”
&
nbsp; “I did not ‘mess up pretty bad.’ He got me fired. Thanks to you.”
“Restrain yourself, Rhoda-Mae. Honestly, you can be so dramatic sometimes. I’m trying to help you. I can talk to Roger, and he might be able to persuade Jen to hire you back, maybe on probation or something. And I can ask Arnie to give you a room here so you can be close while you and Hubert work things out.”
One word was all Mae dared speak or she would say too much, and turn this goodbye into nothing but a fight. It had blown up once already. “No.”
“I’m offering you a chance. What is the matter with you?”
“Hubert and I aren’t working things out. We’re done. I love Arnie, and I’m sure he’d let me stay here when I visit the young’uns, but I’ve got some work in Norfolk and Virginia Beach, and I like it better there. I don’t want that job back.”
Rhoda-Rae looked stunned. “I helped you get that certification. I told you to go after that job.”
No point in reminding her that she’d taken back the help on the certification course. And Mae had already thanked her at least once for the push to go after the job. How many times did her mother need to hear it? Thanking her mother for telling her to apply for the job she’d gotten her fired from felt like being in a fun-house mirror maze. Mae said nothing.
“Your work is important,” Rhoda-Rae said, opening a drawer full of nurse’s scrubs, already folded, and placing them in their own designated suitcase. “Roger’s ready to retire, but I’m not. I don’t know who I’d be without my work. I hope you’re working at your profession, not just any old job.”