“Well, I don’t think the prison is the place to go. I think we have to camp on some judge’s doorstep,” says Ruth. “I had a fling with one of them once. I don’t know if they are all strange but he sure was. I digress. Forget that last statement. If we knew someone with clout. A politician or some such. Does anyone in this room know someone with clout?”
“You know Patrick,” says Judy. “Course he’s the one who arrested her in the first place. Never mind.”
Maggie’s voice is low and she has to repeat herself when they finally realize she has spoken. “My dad might know someone. He used to be a lawyer before he had his heart problems. He might be able to help.”
“Well,” says Judy, “it’s about friggin’ time you said some-thing. What were you waiting for, Maggs? A letter from the Queen? How come you never mentioned anything about your dad being a lawyer?”
“It didn’t seem important before.”
“I think we should call him over and see what he has to say. Should we go get him Ruth? He’s at Ginny Mustard’s house. No. Wait. Maggs, you go by yourself. I bet Patrick is there just waiting to cart me off. And if he is, don’t tell him where I am.”
“Judy,” says Ruth. “Do you think you can hide from him forever?”
“Yes. If I have to sleep in a friggin’ ditch. There’s no way I’m going to some friggin’ detention place with a bunch of losers. He’ll find something better to do one of these days and stop looking. I ran away from home once and it was six months before anyone bothered to find me. And I was living under their noses the whole time. I don’t know if you’ve noticed Ruth, but adults aren’t all that friggin’ smart when you get right down to it. They only see what they want to see and the likes of me gets pretty boring after a while.”
Ginny Mustard wakes to sunlight but she doesn’t move. Closes her eyes again quickly. Perhaps she is dreaming. Perhaps she is dead and this place heaven. In which case might her mother be here somewhere? She tries to think of anyone else she knows who died. Little Jimmy Batstone with the runny nose at the orphanage did when he fell off a snowbank in front of the bus that time and Mrs. Janes who ran the candy store next to the movie theatre before they tore it down. She died. And Eve. Ginny Mustard would like to see Eve again. They might all be here some-where. Should she look for them? What if Mr. Miflin is here? What if God let him in with all the other dead people? Forgave him the sin of killing Mrs. Miflin’s baby. What if the baby is here too? It is so quiet. She had always thought there’d be singing or at least some music. But nothing. If it is heaven they will have to do something about the smell. Like a toilet that was really dirty and someone scrubbed it with bleach as hard as she could but it never will come clean. Ever.
When the nurse comes in she can tell that Ginny Mustard is awake because people don’t sleep with their eyes all scrunched up like that. She is wearing soft-soled shoes and when she speaks Ginny Mustard jumps as far as the handcuff that holds her to the bed frame will allow. But she keeps her eyes closed.
“I don’t like that we have to tie you down, dear, but those are the orders. If you need to go to the bathroom you just press that button with your free hand and we’ll unlock you. What did you do to get yourself in this kind of mess? Murder someone? I know there’s a few around that I wouldn’t mind doing in myself if I had half a chance. Funny way for a nurse to be talking I guess, being as I’m sworn to save people left right and centre. But we’re none of us perfect that’s for sure. They told us you don’t talk but that’s all right. I can do enough for ten. That’s what my husband says and he should know, listening to me all these years, poor fellow. And he in a wheelchair too. Can’t even get away when he wants. I tell him jokes to hold his interest. Throw one in now and then when he’s not expecting. Keeps him on his toes, so to speak, if he could get out of that chair.” And she’s laughing. The kind of laugh that makes you smile when you hear it. Makes you wish you could follow her around just in case something else strikes her funny.
“Well, now. It seems you can smile, anyway. Let me check that baby of yours. They say she’s not doing so good lately. Her little heart slows down and she won’t move.” And Ginny Mustard opens her eyes.
“Are you an angel?”
“So you can talk. The lies they get on with around here. Yes, darling. I’m an angel of mercy and don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”
“And this is heaven?”
“No, sweetheart. This is a hospital. They brought you over last night because you were doing poorly. But never you mind. We’ll have you happy as a clam in no time. You just do as Edna says and everything will be all right. I’m Edna. And I’m pleased to meet you, Ginny Mustard. Where on earth did you get a name like that?”
“It’s short for Virginia.”
“Not Ginny, silly goose, Mustard.”
“It’s my hair. The nuns said it’s the colour, of mustard. Not hot dog mustard. The fancy one. Dijon. And all the kids started calling me that. And I didn’t have any last name already so it’s all right.”
“No last name! Well isn’t that the strangest thing? You know if you want one you can just make it up. If you use it often enough and get someone to put it on a piece of ID you can have it. I read that somewhere. And it won’t even cost you. Though you can’t always believe what you read so maybe you should ask a lawyer. Do you know any lawyers?”
“Only the woman who was in court with me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t bother with her. She can’t be all that good what with you tied to a bed frame like you are. Why don’t you ask our resident man of God when he comes round to hear your sins? He might know something besides the Our Father, though I wouldn’t put my life savings on it if I were you. No matter, darling. We’ll figure something out. You just think of a nice name that doesn’t have anything to do with food.” And she busies herself with machines and gadgets for a few minutes. Says, “Well this baby seems to be doing all right. But Edna will be in to check again in a little while. I’m on shift until eight this evening so you’ll be seeing plenty of me whether you want to or not. I’ll bring you something to eat in a few minutes and I don’t want to see any leftovers. You’re as thin as a promise.” And she’s gone in a gale of laughter. Ginny Mustard smiles.
When Father Doherty comes around she has broken her fast with porridge and milk, oranges and two bowls of lime jelly that Edna found in the kitchen, left over from the last supper. When Edna opened the window shades the sun was shouting off the waves between the hills and far beyond. And when she opened the little window below the big one the breeze came running in as though missing Ginny Mustard for a long time now and very happy to see her. Played with her hair awhile before settling under the bed blanket to cool her toes.
The good priest is determined to save this woman’s soul and sets about praying with a sad face and his eyes soft. He reminds Ginny Mustard of Jesus in the pictures at Mrs. Miflin’s house but he has no beard. Speaks so low that she has to strain to hear him. In a little while she gives up the effort and just listens to him drone on and on slow as cold molasses. Drifts off and still he talks until Edna comes in and shoos him away.
“You’ve gone and bored the poor thing to sleep. You should be coming around at night when they’re all yelling for pills, Father. Save the hospital a bundle, you would. You’re as good as anesthesia. Now go and see Mr. Maloney. He’s in a state. They can’t find anything wrong with him and he doesn’t want to go home. They got two nurses in there trying to stuff him into his clothes. Like dressing a squid, they said. Go talk some sense into him. Your work here is done, by the looks of it. Go on, now.”
When Maggie goes to fetch her father, Joe Snake’s family comes along to the house on Bishop’s Road with him. Supper is over and Lucy is itching for excitement. Joe Snake is surprised to see them. No one had called to say they were coming. Lucy insists that her mother said she would and Mrs. Benoit says, “No, you were supposed to.” So they have to argue for a few minutes which holds up the introductions but event
ually everybody knows who’s who and they get back to business.
Mr. Eldridge is acquainted with a few people in power but is not so sure anything can be done at this stage. Judy wants to re-visit her original idea to gang up and make a lot of noise.
“We could start with that and see what happens. It’s not like we’ve got anything to lose. She’s already in jail, right? But I’m not coming. I’ll just be the brains of the operation. Behind the scenes.”
“I don’t know if it will help but you may be right,” says Ruth. “It can’t hurt.”
“Is it okay if I call my husband? Maybe no one told him I’m here and he might visit me at the prison.”
“You have a husband! Well I am happy to hear that. I was thinking you’d be one of those girls having to give up your baby to God knows what. You tell me the phone number and I’ll make sure he comes to see you. Nobody said anything about you not having visitors and if they do we’ll just sneak him in for you. What’s his name, darling?”
“Joe Snake.”
“You’re a queer crowd for names, aren’t you? What were they thinking to christen a baby, Joe Snake?”
“His true name is Joseph Benoit.”
“French, is he?”
“I think he’s mostly Indian.”
“So you’d be Mrs. Benoit. You don’t need to make up a name at all. How is it you don’t have a wedding ring?”
“I had one but someone took it from me at the prison.”
“What a sin! Well I’ll call your husband as soon as I’m done my rounds and we’ll have him here in a flash.” And Edna is away, phone number, or at least the last four digits, tucked in her head. It won’t be hard to figure out the first three, only so many on the go. Not to worry, Ginny Mustard, if you can’t remember all of them with Edna on your side.
When the gathering at Mrs. Miflin’s house breaks up Mr. and Mrs. Benoit, Lucy, Mr. Eldridge in spare rooms, Judy and Maggie in the apartment downstairs, retire for the night. There isn’t a chance that they will find a way to spring Ginny Mustard from prison but what a team! And Joe Snake the loner, tall and thin, straightens his shoulders and shrugs off the load he’d thought was there for good. Waits until his mother is sound asleep before letting the little cats inside to snuggle down on his bed.
When Edna calls to say his wife has been relocated everyone else is up and around, his mom making pancakes and Judy on her second helping.
“Can we all go to see her?” asks Judy, wiping her mouth with the end of the tablecloth. Mrs. Benoit gives her a smack.
“Ow. What did you do that for? That friggin’ hurts.”
“You’ve got the manners of a slug, girl. Don’t you ever let me see you doing that again. Use your napkin and mind your mouth.”
“Better do as she says if you know what’s good for you,” says Lucy. “I think Joseph should go by himself first. See what’s up. Then maybe we can all visit later. What do you think Joseph? I’m sure you’d like a few quiet minutes with your wife, wouldn’t you now?” And she smiles.
“Yes. I’ll call after I’ve seen her. I hope there’s nothing wrong with the baby. Her heart would never mend. I’ll call.” And he’s away, his mom following with a plate of food. “Do you want me to keep this warm for later?”
Joe Snake finds Edna in the nursery kissing babies. “I love these little ones. I could never have any of my own what with the old man being broke from the waist down, you know. So I come in here whenever I get a free minute. Stay half the night sometimes when one of them can’t sleep. That rocking chair in the corner’s got my arse print worn right through the cushion.” She laughs as though that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard tell of. “Come with me, dear. I’ll take you to Virginia’s room. Such a darling little wife you have. Bit thin, though. But you’re not much more than a bag of bones yourself now, are you. Pity she’s a criminal but I daresay she couldn’t help doing whatever she did. That should be one fine looking youngster. Tall, judging by the two of you. Nice colour I would imagine. I always thought there was enough red hair and freckles around here to sink a ship. What did she do to end up in jail, anyway?”
“She killed a man.”
“Well, I’m sure she had her reasons. Here’s her room. She was supposed to eat everything on her tray so I’ll just check and make sure she did and leave you alone. Virginia, look who I brought to see you. Wait now. I’ll just undo those handcuffs so you two can have a quick hug but I have to chain you down again as soon as you’re done.”
And she does. And they do. A long hug like no one has ever hugged before and Sweet Polly feels the warmth and kicks her heels with baby joy. Hard. So they both can feel it. They laugh. Edna laughs. She snaps the cuffs shut and is gone. Still laughing.
They sit and stare at each other for awhile. Nothing to say. Holding hands.
“The baby was not so good so they brought me here. I thought I was dead when I woke up but I’m not. It’s nice here. The sun was on the water and there was a little wind. I can smell the ocean and the fish. Oh Joe Snake, how can I go back to that place? I can’t live there. I feel all mashed up inside myself and my heart is a hard thing.”
“Perhaps we can keep you in the hospital until the baby is born. Our friends are trying to find a way to have you released but I don’t see there’s any way around it, Ginny Mustard. I think you’ll have to be there until your parole hearing.” And he tells her about Joanie and her parents, the others, trying to come up with a solution to this dreadful problem.
It seems to help. It seems she’s less alone. It seems Joe Snake has people in their corner and so he is less alone as well. She has imagined him in their big bed. Cooking solitary meals. Dusting empty rooms. And has been sad for him.
“When the baby comes I’ll bring it to visit. It will know you well when your time is done.”
“Her. Bring her to visit. Her name is Polly. Becky read a book to me called Five Little Peppers and How They Grew and there was a girl named Polly. And she had a food name. Edna thinks I shouldn’t have a food name. So I want to be Ginny Benoit now. Is that all right?”
“That’s perfect.” And he gives her a kiss for punctuation. “I can bring people to visit, you know. Mom and Dad and Lucy are here. I have no idea why or how long they plan to stay, but if you’d like to see them I can ask Edna if it’s kosher. And Judy. Maggie. Everyone wants to see you. Would you like that?”
“Yes. Call them. If Edna says it’s - what did you say - kosher?”
Dr. Kamau has signed up for the native cultural immersion course. Who better to teach him than Annie Paul who knows almost everything and has no qualms about making up the little she doesn’t, borrows from the Sioux and Cree if she has to, reasoning that they are all brothers and sisters so what the hell. Annie Paul found herself a few years ago in the archives on a trip to the city. Has since taken to making her own boots and coats - mostly of rabbit skins since that’s about all there is around here but for the odd fox. She wears lovely pointed hats for special occasions, weddings and christenings, decorated with porcupine quills. Her moccasins and boots are covered with beads. She has to order the quills from away. And the beads. She lives in a teepee that Old Cecil helped her to build and cooks over a fire. Smokes salmon, trout and cod for the winter and sells some to make a few dollars for flour and sugar. Butter. Eggs, since she doesn’t like to see animals penned and hens scratch too much in the vegetable garden when they’re free.
The neighbours thinks she’s crazy and perhaps she is but they all say nobody can cure a fish like Annie Paul and they don’t mind paying what she asks. The only things she can’t get enough of are steak and a baked potato with Caesar salad on the side and she never got the hang of stir-frying over her fire so she trades her soul’s work for a few trips to town and the best restaurants therein.
Annie Paul can see. Might be the pot she smokes or the fact that she’s the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Either way she knows what Dr. Kamau is about, though she waits a day or two to tell him w
here he should be since she dearly enjoys his questions and company.
“Someone needs you now and I think you’d better get yourself away. To the city. I’m not sure who she is but she’s pregnant and important to you.”
“That must be my daughter, Virginia. I have been told she’s there but I didn’t know she is pregnant.”
“She’s not only pregnant, she’s in a sorry state for some reason. If I can find someone to look after my garden - and Sadie Benoit’s -1 wouldn’t mind a trip myself. All right if I tag along? I can’t pay for gas but seeing as you’re going anyway that’s no big deal. I’ll bring a lunch. Let me go talk to Old Cecil. I’m sure he owes me something by now and he’s got a house full of grandchildren doing frig all these days. A little gardening won’t do them any harm. Keep them out of trouble.”
Dr. Kamau is pleased to have Annie Paul’s company She is a delightful woman and funny and has the most beautiful hands he has ever seen. He watches her face as she stares into her fire. Annie Paul broods. Sits so still she could be a dead woman. Doesn’t blink. And then she looks right into a person - slowly - so as to get all there is - and swallows hard before she speaks.
“So,” says Ruth to Sarah, “you missed a fine reunion at Mrs. Miflin’s house the other night. Maggie and her father are back from their wanderings and Joe Snake’s folks arrived out of the blue and we all ended up drinking too much and trying to figure out how to spring Ginny Mustard from her lonely prison cell. A good time all around. The only thing lacking was a mournful violin. I can’t see how anything can be done but, on the up side, Joe Snake told me this morning that they’ve seen fit to transfer her to a hospital so at least she’ll be getting proper care for awhile. It would be great if they can manage to keep her there.”
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