Mercy Me

by Margaret A. Graham

“What’s the matter with Horace?” Thelma asked. She was helping Lucy clean up Maria.

  “He’s sick to his stomach. Listen, girls, I’ve got to try to find us a lawyer, and if I don’t call now, their offices will be closed.”

  “Go ahead, we can manage,” Thelma said.

  Being a law-abiding citizen, I was not personally acquainted with a single lawyer in the county, and with the reputations lawyers have got, I wondered if I could find a good one who wouldn’t squeeze the last penny out of us. I was thumbing through the yellow pages and, wouldn’t you know it, here came Horace back inside.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Esmeralda. I got to clean up that mess out here on your front porch.”

  “The front porch! Mercy me, boy, couldn’t you make it to the yard?” I wet a washcloth and handed it to him, then went to the broom closet to get the stuff he needed to clean the porch. I gave him detergent, a bucket, my scrub broom, and a can of disinfectant. “Use the garden hose in front to wash it off. Be sure you scrub the porch and spray it good with disinfectant. Try not to leave any sign or smell of that vomit on my porch.”

  I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but I know I did. When I had a minute, I’d apologize or make it up to him some way. That poor boy was going through hell with nobody to confide in and no mother to comfort him.

  I went back to the yellow pages, where there were names and ads of lawyers all over the county, as well as from Columbia. I couldn’t count the number of those full-page ads of accident attorneys. What we had to deal with was no accident.

  I scanned page after page but got nowhere.

  Horace finally shut off the hose and gathered up the cleaning stuff to bring back inside. He walked around the house and came in the back door.

  “Horace, look in the fridge and get yourself some ginger ale. That’ll help settle your stomach.”

  The boy looked so pale and scared, I really felt sorry for him. “You’ll have to look for it—it’s way in back somewhere.”

  After poking around and making me nervous, he finally found the ginger ale and stood in the middle of the floor, not knowing where to find a glass.

  “Go in the laundry room, Horace. You’ll find a paper cup in that package on the washer.”

  He found it, poured himself the cold drink, and sat across from me at my kitchen table. “Thanks,” he said. I grunted and turned the page.

  “What’re you looking for?”

  That was none of his business, so I didn’t answer. The boy just wanted to talk, and I was too busy to talk right then.

  “I got tested today.”

  I looked up from the phone book. “At the hospital?”

  “No, the med center.”

  Well, I knew why he didn’t go to Carson City General—it was too close to Live Oaks and he didn’t want his business spread all over the county.

  “They say it’ll take seven to ten days before I’ll know anything.”

  Watching me turn another page and run my finger down the list of names, he asked again, “What’re you looking for?”

  Ordinarily, I would have told him it was none of his business, but that poor boy needed what kindness I could give him. “Well, Horace, I’m looking for a good lawyer.”

  “A good lawyer? Daddy knows all the lawyers in the county and in Columbia too. If you need a lawyer, he’s the one to ask.”

  I was in no position to ask Sheriff Thigpen for any favors, but I wasn’t getting anywhere searching the yellow pages. Lucy was calling me.

  “All right, Horace, ask your daddy to give me a call. And today, Horace. Right away.”

  Sure enough, as soon as Horace got home and told him, Thigpen called me. I gave him all the details, and he said he’d get right on it.

  17

  Lucy and I were giving Maria her morning bath when I heard an engine roaring up outside.

  “Sounds like a motorcycle,” Lucy said.

  It was. When I made it to the door, I saw the thing parked in the driveway. A man who looked like one of those long-haired, tattooed bikers was waiting for me.

  “Can I do something for you?” I asked.

  “Esmeralda! Don’t you recognize me?”

  With that helmet and goggles, he didn’t look like anybody I’d have the least interest in knowing. He pulled off the helmet and goggles and laid them on the glider, then unzipped his leather jacket. Well, I tell you, if I had a belly like his, I would never unzip my jacket.

  “No, I don’t know you, and we’ve got sickness here. Get to the point, mister. State your business.”

  “Esmeralda, it’s Percy Poteat!”

  “Percy Poteat?” He looked worse than roadkill. “What funny farm did you escape from?”

  “Ha! Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Invite him in and it’s inviting trouble, more of which I don’t need, I thought. “Well,” I said, hesitating, “you can come in, but I can’t give you more than a few minutes. Like I said, we have got sickness here.”

  He opened the screen door.

  “Wipe your feet, Percy,” I ordered, pointing to the rug. I tell you, I didn’t like this one bit. Nothing good could bring Percy Poteat back to Live Oaks after all these years. Why, he hadn’t even come back for his own mama’s funeral!

  “Esmeralda, how about a drink?”

  “A drink of what?”

  “I know you don’t have tequila, so I’ll settle for anything you got.”

  “You’ll settle for ice tea, because that’s what I’ve got.”

  He followed me into the kitchen and sat down at the table. As I poured the tea, I asked him, “Where’s your eyeglasses?”

  “Oh, I wear contacts now.”

  “Well, then, what brings you to Live Oaks?”

  “I’m looking for me a wife.”

  He didn’t sound one bit embarrassed about that.

  “I hear you’ve had half a dozen or more.”

  “Ha! Not that many, but close.” He lifted the cake lid and helped himself to a slice of Clara’s pound cake. “Esmeralda, I’ve made some bad choices,” he said as he touched a big gold cross that hung on his chest, along with a bunch of other gold chains. “But I’ve turned my life around. I’m on the right road now, and it brought me straight home to Live Oaks. I’m looking for the one I should’ve married in the first place.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Why, Esmeralda, don’t you remember how crazy Beetriss was about me?”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Percy, just what are you getting at?”

  “She’s not married, is she?”

  “Percy, by her own choice, Beatrice is not married. And you’re wasting your time if you think she would give you the time of day.”

  Actually, I wasn’t sure that was the case, but I felt it was my duty to nip this thing in the bud. Just when Beatrice had started enjoying Carl’s company, here this creep shows up.

  Percy helped himself to another piece of cake. “Before she died, Mama wrote me what a good cook Beetriss was. None of my women could cook worth a toot.” He talked with his mouth full as he wolfed down the cake. “Beetriss got any property? I guess she owns her own home, right?”

  I gave him a look that would have wilted an artificial cornflower. “What Beatrice owns or don’t own is none of your business.”

  “Ha! Same old Esmeralda—feisty as the devil.” With elbows on the table, he leaned forward. “Esmeralda, what Beetriss needs is me. I can give her what she’s never had—excitement. Once she learns to handle a Harley, we could travel the country. See that Grand Canyon she’s always wanted to see.”

  I was surprised he remembered that about Beatrice. But I didn’t show it. “You are whacko if you think Beatrice would ever straddle a motorcycle and tear around the country like some wild, crazy female.”

  Percy shrugged. “She won’t know until she tries it. There’s nothing like it in the world. These babies can go a hunnert miles an hour, just cruising. She’ll love it.”

  I’ll be honest wi
th you—you just can’t tell about women me and Beatrice’s age. We do foolish things sometimes, get roped in by con artists and the like. I thought that with all the sense Beatrice had not got, she might think Percy Poteat was an answer to prayer—believe that cock-and-bull story about turning his life around, get goose pimples over him, or think she could keep him from trying to kill himself on the highway.

  “Where’s she living now?” he asked.

  “She doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “Where’d she move to?”

  “Up the road.”

  A cake crumb escaped onto Percy’s chin. “You wouldn’t be trying to discourage a fellow, would you?”

  “Percy, I can’t fool with you any longer. Like I told you, there’s a sick woman here.”

  “You got Beetriss’s number?”

  “I do, but I don’t have time to look it up.”

  He got my drift; he wasn’t going to get any more information out of me. And he didn’t like it one bit.

  “I can find her without your help, Esmeralda. All I got to do is ask at Apostolic Church—the preacher’ll give me her address.”

  He left in a huff, banging the door behind him.

  He was right. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find Beatrice. But I’d done my best. The Lord would just have to look after her from here on out.

  As I watched Percy roar out the driveway, the phone rang. Sheriff Thigpen was on the line. “Esmeralda, I found the man you’re looking for. He’s the best lawyer Columbia’s got—Seth Tobias. He’s going to run for congress next year, so he’s anxious to help you out. He said if those children were born in the States, then they’re American citizens. All you have to do is get their mother to sign over the adoption papers. Seth says you can just turn it all over to him, and he’ll handle everything.”

  What a relief! Thank the Lord. Hallelujah! “Sheriff, I don’t know how to thank you. Where do I get them papers?”

  “Horace is on his way to Columbia right now to pick them up. Once you get the papers signed, he’ll take them back to Seth.”

  I put down the phone and thanked the Lord. Of course, I knew we had a ways to go yet. Explaining things to Maria and getting her consent to the adoption wouldn’t be easy. And if the children’s tests came back positive, I couldn’t ask the Osbornes to adopt them. But we’d just cross that bridge when we came to it. Right now, we had to work fast. I knew Maria could pass away before we got anything settled.

  I heard a truck turning in the driveway; it was Elmer this time. I met him at the back door and helped him bring in the jars of beans, soup mix, and corn the W.W.s had canned for me. Elmer took the jars down in the basement, and I went with him to see they were put on the right shelves.

  As he was leaving, he asked if there was anything he could do for me. “Well, Elmer, we made the last payment on a tiller I bought for Elijah, and I wonder if you might have time to bring it up here in your truck? I bought it from a woman who lives on the corner of Elm and Oak.”

  “Mrs. Brown lives there—husband died a little while back?”

  “Right. There’s no hurry, but if it’s convenient, I would appreciate it.”

  “I’ll have it up here soon as I can.”

  After Elmer left, I went back to see about Maria. She was sleeping, and Lucy was straightening up the room.

  “Sit down, Lucy,” I said. “I’ve got some good news. Sheriff Thigpen called, and he’s got us a lawyer down in Columbia who says he’ll handle everything. He’s a man by the name of Seth Tobias. I don’t know him, but I’ve seen his name in the paper. He told the sheriff that if the children were born in the States, then they are American citizens and there’ll be no problem about adoption. From what you’ve told me, this seems to be the case. Didn’t you get the idea that all three of them were born here?”

  “I did. I paid close attention, and I remember she told me that Carlos, the oldest boy, was born in California, and the others along the way through the South to Florida.”

  “Good. Maria will have to sign a paper to that effect. Do you think you can explain all this to her and get her consent about the adoptions?”

  “I think so. I’ll try.” She paused. “If the Osbornes want to adopt the children, I believe Maria will be glad to sign the papers. When Preacher Bob comes in here and kneels by her bed and holds her hand, she never wants him to leave. She just holds on to his hand as long as she can, and after he leaves, she asks me to tell her about Jesus.”

  I shook my head. “There’s just one drawback, Lucy. We can’t say anything to the Osbornes before we get the tests back on the children.”

  Lucy remembered something. “Oh, I forgot. Dr. Elsie called. She said she’d get back in touch with you.”

  My heart beat faster. “I’ll go call her now.”

  On my way out of the room, Lucy asked, “Oh, by the way, who was that guy on the motorcycle?”

  “Well, all I can say is, he is a creep from way back!”

  18

  Later in the week, while the hospice nurse was checking Maria’s medications, Lucy walked down to the mailbox and brought me back a letter from Beatrice. I was anxious to know if Percy had tracked her down, although he’d hardly had the time. Apparently, he hadn’t found her. Beatrice asked about Maria and said she was praying for her. Then she apologized for taking my time to tell me about what was going on with her.

  Esmeralda, you would not believe what a wonderful Christian man Carl is. His Bible is falling apart and he knows what’s in it from cover to cover. He told me there are three hundred and eighty “fear nots” in the Bible and I’ve been looking them up. You won’t believe this, but those verses are helping me not to be so afraid about things.

  I’ve been cooking a lot here lately and when Carl comes I invite Sadie and Jim from upstairs to eat with us. As you know, whatever I eat I might as well rub it on my hips because that is where it’s going. I have gained nearly ten pounds. All my clothes are too tight so I had to buy more. Sadie works in an office and is a real stylish dresser, so I asked her if she would go shopping with me one Saturday. While we went shopping Jim and Carl went fishing. I would never have found the cute outfits Sadie found for me. She said with the color of my hair I could wear yellow and green as well as autumn colors.

  I tell you, Sadie should have been a beauty parlor operator. When she fixes my hair Carl and Jim both tell me how nice it looks.

  Jim and Sadie don’t fight like they use to although sometimes I can hear them fussing and sometimes they don’t speak to each other for a day or two. But when they’re with us, with me and Carl, we all have a good time. Jim is such a cutup, he keeps us laughing. He and Carl watch the Braves games on TV and while they’re watching TV, I’m in the kitchen with Sadie teaching her how to cook.

  We all went bowling the other night. I’m not very good at it. They’re trying to teach me how to throw the ball so it don’t roll down along the side. They don’t know it, but I’m doing good if I don’t go sliding down the alley on my backside. I wish they’d just let me keep score.

  Esmeralda, I want you to pray for Sadie and Jim. Carl is talking to them about the Lord but they aren’t interested in going to church with us.

  I better sign off. I have a cake in the oven. It’s Jim’s birthday and we’re going to surprise him.

  Well, mercy me, it sounded too good to be true. It sounded like Beatrice was happier than she’d ever been in her entire life. I smiled as I folded up the letter. Now if that jerk Percy Poteat don’t throw a monkey wrench into the situation, who knows? Maybe Beatrice will wind up marrying Carl. Wouldn’t that be something!

  When the nurse was ready to leave, I walked out on the porch with her. “What do you think?” I asked.

  “She’s much weaker. She’s asking for the children. Maybe you ought to bring them over so she can see them one more time.”

  “All right, I’ll do that. Thanks for all your help.”

  Before I called Pastor Osborne, I had to get my ducks in a row. Horace
had brought the papers, but Lucy had not talked with Maria to make certain where the children were born and so forth. I shuffled through the papers and found three that dealt with citizenship. With those papers in my hand, I went back in the room.

  Maria’s eyes were closed. “Lucy, do you think you can talk to her now? Or is she sleeping?”

  “No, I don’t think she’s sleeping.”

  “Well, these are the papers she has to sign, saying where each of the children were born.”

  Lucy took the papers and read one. “Esmeralda, her signature has to be notarized.”

  “Notarized?” I repeated. Hmmm. That was a problem. I didn’t know any notary republic but Elmer, and he was at work. I went back in the other room and looked at the adoption papers. They, too, had to be notarized. I called Elmer and asked him if he could leave work long enough to notarize Maria’s signature, and he said to just call him when we were ready.

  After I hung up, I realized that we wouldn’t be ready with the adoption papers until we’d heard from Dr. Elsie. And she hadn’t called back yet.

  I picked up the phone and called her office. The girl at the desk said the doctor wasn’t in, but that she had left a message for me. “Miss Esmeralda, Dr. Elsie wanted you to know that the children’s tests came back negative.”

  “That means they don’t have the virus?”

  “That’s right.”

  “All three of them?”

  “All three of them!”

  I could hardly believe my ears! I ran into the bedroom to tell Lucy. “It’s a miracle! It’s a miracle, Lucy!”

  We hugged each other and cried like babies. I had to get us calmed down, though, because there was so much to do.

  “Now, Lucy, I’m going to call the pastor and have him bring over the children. There are all these papers Maria has to sign, and she’s so weak we need to get on this right away. Before the children come, maybe you can get her signature on the citizenship papers. Don’t worry about them being notarized; when Elmer comes, he’ll notarize them along with the other papers.”

  I looked at Maria and could tell she was sinking fast. “Lucy, we don’t have much time. After the children leave, it won’t be easy, but you’ll have to talk to her about the adoptions.”