by Joan Hess
"So she's doing this to get back at him?" I said blankly. "He doesn't even know she's missing."
"I reckon he will when Mrs. Jim Bob hears about it."
I grimaced. "You have a point. Let's get you settled with Ruby Bee in the kitchen. I'll go back to the cabin, but then I'm going to feel obliged to do something. Darla Jean can't spend the night in the woods, especially with a thunderstorm coming."
"Hold on a minute." Heather sat down on a log and plastered the gum on her finger, then removed it. "Okay, I got it out." She picked out the sliver of wood, tossed it over her shoulder, and put the gum back into her mouth. "It might be better for me to go to the cabin. If Darla Jean's hiding in the area, she's more likely to listen to me than someone like you."
"Like me?"
"Oh, you know, like old and everything. Can I tell her she's not in trouble?"
"She's not in trouble if she shows up for supper," I said, resisting the irrational urge to force her to examine my teeth as if I were a racehorse about to be retired to pasture. "I'm more than willing to tell Mrs. Jim Bob and Brother Verber that she spent the afternoon repenting on her knees."
"You'd lie? Isn't that kinda like bearing false witness?"
"Yes, Heather, I suppose it is. You have any better suggestions?"
She mumbled a response and hurried down the path. I gave her a minute's head start, then headed for the lodge as rain began to rustle the leaves.
Jim Bob sat in his office at the back of the supermarket, scrolling through screen after screen of images of sweet young things baring their souls (and other things) for any and all to behold. The more innocent of the websites he'd found focused on hooters. Others were downright lewd, which isn't to imply he objected. Mrs. Jim Bob found her enlightenment in the Bible; he found his on the Internet.
He was downloading pictures from a site featuring pretty little cheerleaders that'd forgotten to put on their panties when Kevin Buchanon came into the office.
"Kin I ask you something, Jim Bob?"
Sighing, he deleted the image on the screen. "You just did."
Kevin sucked on his lip for a few seconds. "No, kin I really ask you something?"
"Two down, one to go."
"But, Jim Bob," Kevin said, lapsing into a whine that made Jim Bob's teeth ache, "I need some advice. I'd ask Arly, or even Ruby Bee, but they're gone for the week, in case you hadn't heard, along with Mrs. Jim Bob. Brother Verber is, too, but this ain't something I'd want to ask him about. I know he's the preacher, but-"
"Spit it out, Kevin."
"What?"
Jim Bob reminded himself that it was damn hard to find employees who were willing to work for minimum wage and had never heard of overtime pay. "You wanted to ask me something."
"I sure did, Jim Bob. Kin I sit down?"
"Does this look like a bus station? Just ask your question and then get back to work. I'm planning to leave in half an hour, and I'm gonna inspect all the aisles to make sure they've been mopped. Jim Bob's SuperSaver Buy 4 Less has a reputation in this community, boy, and I aim to make sure the floors are shiny and the shelves are neat and the produce is mostly fresh. Did you spray the fruit?"
Kevin tried to remember how all this had started. He'd had a question, but now Jim Bob had so many questions that it was murkier than a mess of collard greens. "Well, I guess it ain't a bus station," he said real carefully, "since the only buses that come through town are heading for Branson and they don't stop here. I was spraying the fruit when Idalupino startled me and… well, she grabbed the hose right out of my hand and said she'd finish up. I thought I'd wait till closing time and then wax the floors. I always wax the floors on Saturday night so they'll be nice and bright on Sunday."
"Is this conversation going anywhere?"
Kevin pondered this. "You got somewhere in mind, Jim Bob?"
"You had a question, Kevin," Jim Bob said, barely getting out the words. "Ask it."
"Well," Kevin said, wishing he could sit down but staying where he was, "it has to do with Kevvie Junior and Rose Marie being models in Hollywood."
"Say what?"
"Dahlia's convinced they can be in commercials on account of how cute they is. The thing is, as cute as they is, and ain't nobody better say otherwise, this ad-"
Jim Bob cut him off. "Do I look like somebody who gives a shit?"
"But I was wondering-"
"I get real irritated when I have to repeat myself. When I come in tomorrow, I'd better be able to see my reflection on every square foot of the floor. The oranges and apples had better be glistening like they'd been plucked straight from the orchards. The paper towels on sale better be stacked in a pyramid that damn near bumps the ceiling. Got that, boy?"
Kevin nodded, then left the office and retrieved his mop from a bucket of scummy water. He knew it'd been dumb to go to Jim Bob for advice, but he shore wasn't about to ask Idalupino after the way she'd cussed at him. She should have known better than to creep up behind him when he had the hose in his hand.
Estelle and I were seated at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes and trying to ignore Ruby Bee's grumbles, when the first crack of thunder shook the lodge from the chimney to the basement. Estelle's paring knife clattered on the floor.
"Goodness gracious," she said.
"It's a thunderstorm, for pity's sake," said Ruby Bee. "You plannin' to go upstairs and crawl under the covers?"
"You're a fine one to talk. You've been on pins and needles since we left this morning."
"Mostly because of your driving. I liked to have a heart attack when you passed that chicken truck outside Starley City." She glared at me as though I'd been driving the vehicle under discussion. "There we were, going up a mountainside, no guard rails or nothing, and-"
"I'm just glad you all made it," I said, "and the kids are, too. Do you want the potatoes sliced or quartered?"
Said kids erupted into the front room of the lodge seconds after rain began to pound down with such intensity that I found myself wondering if the lodge might shudder and slide into the lake. I went into the living room, where they were whimpering and shivering like puppies.
"There's firewood on the back porch," I said to Larry Joe. "Amy Dee, you and Lynette can help me make tea for everybody. Ruby Bee hasn't started frying the catfish yet, but we should be able to eat in an hour or so."
Mrs. Jim Bob came down the staircase like Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard. "I can only hope you made satisfactory progress this afternoon," she said as she peered sternly at them. "We only have a week, and the Robarts Foundation is counting on us to do our best."
She undoubtedly would have continued had not lightning hit so close to the lodge that I could feel the hair on my arms quiver. Thunder resounded almost immediately. The light bulbs snapped, crackled, and popped. Dimness of the most dismal sort enveloped us as though someone had thrown a moth-eaten blanket over the building.
"Armageddon is upon us," intoned Brother Verber as he stumbled into the room like a poorly constructed patchwork monster. "Fall to your knees and pray with me, children. 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for Thou art-'"
Although it was far from pitch black, the Dahlton twins began to shriek. Mrs. Jim Bob commenced a lecture that could not be heard over the continual outbursts of thunder. Big Mac fell to the floor and began to roll around, begging forgiveness for everything from stealing hooch from Raz to filching candy from the supermarket and putting a dead fish under the hood of my car. Lynette and Amy Dee clutched each other and sobbed hysterically. Larry Joe was paralyzed with either fear or revulsion.
"Stop this!" I said between claps of thunder. "This is a typical spring storm, not an assault from a SWAT team. We're perfectly safe here. Once the storm passes, we'll replace the bulbs and have supper. The range is gas, so we may end up eating by candlelight, but we will eat. Now let's get some wood and start a fire." I did not add that the dead fish incident would be discussed at a later date, but I figured I ha
d a likely candidate to till my garden patch and keep it weeded for the season.
One of the Dahlton twins pointed at Brother Verber. "But he said-"
"He was testing you," I countered obscurely. "Everybody needs to get an armload of wood. Scoot!"
The kids didn't exactly scoot, but they trooped through the dining room to the back porch. Eight of them, anyway; Darla Jean and Heather were noticeably absent. Hoping Mrs. Jim Bob wasn't counting noses, I said to her, "I think I saw extra light bulbs in the pantry."
"I'm sure Mrs. Robarts has seen that we are well-supplied with necessities. She was quite wounded when you walked out so abruptly."
"Is there any other way to walk out? I suppose I might have hopped and skipped to the door, but somehow-"
"One of these days, young lady, you're going to be sorry for that sassy mouth of yours."
Thunder drowned out her ensuing remarks, none of which were apt to be novel. I watched her jaw waggle for a moment, then went to the kitchen and assured Ruby Bee and Estelle that all the bulbs would be replaced in a few minutes. They seemed to have resolved their differences for the moment, and had retrieved the sherry bottle from under the sink.
I started a kettle of water, took out a dozen mugs, and found teabags and a sugar bowl in a cabinet. Dishes clinked as thunder once again resounded.
"I hope you ain't thinking I can cook in the dark," Ruby Bee said as I counted out spoons from a drawer. "Estelle and me might just go back to Maggody. Maybe I'm a magnet for bad luck."
Estelle snorted. "And who appointed you the center of the universe? We get storms like this every spring, and they happen whether or not Rubella Belinda Hanks is in the vicinity. You got no call to say it's your doing. Mrs. Jim Bob would say it's blasphemous. I might agree."
"I never said such a thing, and I resent you saying I did."
I felt like the captain on the bridge of an ocean liner, spotting an iceberg and incapable of halting headway. "Nobody said anything, okay? The storm will pass. Stay here if you like, or come sit by the fire and have a cup of tea. Mrs. Jim Bob may try to get the kids to belt out a few hymns, but I don't think she'll have much luck. Call me when the kettle begins to whistle."
When I returned to the living room, Larry Joe had coaxed a tentative fire in the fireplace. The kids had moved the metal chairs and were sprawled on the floor, grousing but in a more amiable fashion. Rain continued to pound down, but the outbursts of lightning and thunder were beginning to lessen, and the seconds between them indicated the storm was moving on to expend its remaining savagery on Dunkicker and towns eastward.
All I needed to complete the cozy picture were Darla Jean and Heather. Surely they were at the cabin, experimenting with eye shadow and discussing Billy Dick in descriptions that dripped with venom. Surely.
Ruby Bee appeared in the doorway with a tray. "How about some nice hot tea?" she said as if she'd planned it herself. "I just happen to have brought some oatmeal-raisin cookies along. Anybody interested?"
As the kids crowded around her, I kept an eye on Mrs. Jim Bob. She was eyeballing Brother Verber, who had pulled off his shoes and was baking his socks in front of the fire. So far, so good. I considered whether or not I could slide out the back door and go to the cabin without my absence being noticed. Probably not, I decided glumly. Mrs. Jim Bob's nose was already twitching with suspicion.
"How about a round of charades?" I said brightly.
"Give me a break," Jarvis muttered. "We gonna play spin-the-bottle next?"
"This will be fun," I continued. "Let's divide into teams and come up with clues. Larry Joe will take one team, and Ruby Bee the other."
"Charades?" said the Dahlton twins, sounding as though I'd suggested injecting ourselves with flesh-eating viruses to determine who survived to the bitter end.
"You'll love it. You can make up clues for the other team, and then we'll see who ends up with the best time."
"And then?" said Parwell. "Do the winners get to go home?"
Mrs. Jim Bob bristled. "I do not appreciate your attitude, Parwell, nor does the Almighty Lord. You knew exactly why you were coming here, and you should be grateful that Ruby Bee has arrived to provide meals that will be tasty, if not wholesome. Don't toy with your chances of salvation; one more smart remark and you might find yourself in the fiery furnaces next to Arly."
A timely clap of thunder drowned out Ruby Bee's remark, which might have been tart, to put it mildly. The girls squealed; the boys flinched. Brother Verber dropped to his knees and began to plead to be spared from being roasted, toasted, fried, or fricasseed.
I was about to duck out the back way when a heavy hand pounded on the door. Squealing and flinching were instantaneously replaced with gulping. For the record, adolescent gulping is less attractive, and, in fact, downright distasteful. After a moment, I said, "I'll get it."
No one argued.
So, yeah, we're talking frightened teenagers, isolated campground, thunderstorm, pouring rain, electricity disabled, no doubt telephone lines down and the road washed out. Had I seen this on late-night television, along with its seventeen sequels? Machete or chainsaw?
I looked at Mrs. Jim Bob, who, for the first time since I'd returned and assumed my job as chief of police, showed no inclination to overrule me. She, along with my very own mother, Brother Verber, Estelle, Larry Joe, and the kids, could have been participants in a garden store's display of statuary. Gnomes, elves, dwarfs, and toads; all were petrified as if the concrete fairy had waved her magic wand.
Knuckles rapped once again. I might have been a bit uneasy as I went to the door and opened it.
Jacko was carrying Darla Jean in his arms. Her legs were bare, but her upper body was covered with the flannel shirt he'd been wearing earlier. He'd buttoned the vest, but his arms, shoulders, and a significant amount of his chest glistened with rain in the minimal light. "This one's yours, right?" he said as he brushed past me. "Where shall I put her?"
Ruby Bee, who'd allowed me to open the door to a potential serial killer, leaped to her feet. "Just who do you think you are?" she demanded from a prudent distance.
"I think I'm the guy who found her lying in the road. I suppose I could have taken her to my campsite and chopped her up to make stew, but I was in the mood for bouillabaisse. She's cold and in shock. Is there a warm bed somewhere?"
"Upstairs," I said vaguely, having not yet been there.
Ruby Bee cut off Mrs. Jim Bob, who was sputtering. "Yes, indeed. No one's gotten around to explaining why this poor child, dressed in a slip of a bathing suit, should have been out on an evening like this, but I'm sure someone"-she stared at me-"is gonna explain afore too long. In the meantime, let's tuck her in bed and try to give her some hot liquids. Estelle, bring up a cup of tea with a dollop of… something medicinal."
Jacko followed us upstairs, staggering under his burden. Ruby Bee opened a door and stepped back. "Put her in here," she commanded, no doubt envisioning herself in a stiff white uniform and perky cap.
I pulled back the covers and tried not to allow my imagination to run wild as Jacko unceremoniously allowed Darla Jean to bounce on the mattress. She was shivering, but I could see no bruises or other indications of physical assault. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
"You're safe now," I said.
"Ain't none of us safe," she whispered, then buried her face in the pillow.
Our Lady of the Lamp glared at Jacko. "I assume you have an explanation for this."
"Not a good one," he said. "I found her whimpering under a bush and figured I ought to bring her here."
"And why would you think that, mister? Are you accustomed to finding young girls under bushes?"
"On a daily basis?"
I intervened. "He's set up camp down the road from the cabin where the girls and I are staying. I asked him earlier if he'd seen Darla Jean."
"And his reply?" said Mrs. Jim Bob, who must have been eavesdropping just outside the room. "If fornication has be
en a factor, then I have no choice but to call her parents to fetch her. They will be sorely disappointed, Darla Jean, as will I. This week has been dedicated to doing the Almighty Lord's work, not engaging in depravity."
Jacko gave me a disconcerted look, then left the room. I told Ruby Bee and Mrs. Jim Bob to do the same, then squeezed Darla Jean's shoulder until she rolled over.
"So where have you been and why are you so upset?" I asked.
"It's all crazy."
"That much is obvious."
Estelle attempted to slip into the room. I took the mug from her, thanked her, and eased her backward until I could close the door in her face.
"Go on, Darla Jean."
"Well," she said, sitting up in bed to slurp the tea, "I went for a walk."
"Wearing your bikini."
"Like there's something sinful about working on a tan? All I was gonna do was sit by the water for an hour, and then go back to the cabin to sweep the floors. I was even gonna scrub the toilet bowls just to prove I'd learned my lesson."
"And here I was thinking you might have orchestrated this whole thing to get out of the work detail. Maybe I ought to call Brother Verber up here so he can coach me while I pray for your forgiveness for all my evil thoughts."
"Do you wanna know what happened?"
I sat down on the foot of the bed. "Why don't you tell me?"
"I was walking down the road when I saw this little boy, not more than four or five years old. He ran into the bushes. I went after him to tell him I wasn't gonna hurt him, but then I saw this old guy with a fishing rod."
"And you screeched?"
"I wasn't expecting to see anybody," she admitted. "I went back up to the road, calling for him but in a low voice so's not to scare him. I mean, what was this kid doing by his lonesome? I went all the way down to the edge of the lake, hoping I'd find his family having a picnic or something. There wasn't anyone. I was thinking I'd come find you when I saw him scuttling up the hill."
I looked at the welts and scratches on her face. "So you went after him?"