Skin Puppet: Reightman & Bailey Book Three

by Jeffery Craig

  Jill suggested they met at Cecile’s, one of the new eateries in the downtown district. It had the advantage of being within easy walking distance for both of them, and the initial reviews were good.

  Melba arrived a few minutes early and was soon seated at a small table. The place was hopping, considering it was the middle of the week. That was a good indication the food might live up to its reputation. Jill was shown to the table a few minutes later, flushed and a little out of breath.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I was working on a repair and lost track of time. Have you been waiting long?”

  “No, not at all. I just got here myself.”

  “I hate being late to anything, but somehow, I always manage to run at least a few minutes behind. I get focused on something and everything else flies right out the window.” Jill looked around the busy space, taking a sip of the ice water already waiting on the table. “Looks like this place is doing well.”

  “Yeah, I think it is,” Melba agreed. “Hopefully, all of the new businesses will end up being good for everyone.” Their waiter appeared seconds later and handed each of them a menu. They both declined his suggestion of a mid-day cocktail, and he left them in peace to make their selections. They perused the menu, exchanging occasional comments about possible choices, and were ready to order when he reappeared tableside.

  Melba gave him her order, and was distracted by the phone ringing in her purse. “Sorry about that,” she apologized. “I should have turned it off.”

  “No worries. Go ahead and answer,” Jill replied.

  Melba spoke briefly with SarahJune, confirming a calendar entry while Jill ordered. She turned off the phone and slipped it down in her purse.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bag that big,” Jill observed as Melba wrestled the monster onto her lap to stow the phone. “Where’d you find it?”

  “You know, I don’t remember. I’ve had it forever and it’s about worn out. I know it looks awful, but every time I think about replacing it, I find an excuse not to. I guess it just fits me too well.”

  “I have a pair of boots like that,” Jill confided. “I think I’ve had them resoled ten times. After their last visit to the shoe repair shop, they told me there wasn’t any more they could do for the poor things. Now, I only pull them out when I need something familiar and comforting on my feet. It’s funny how we can get attached to things, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” Melba agreed, warming to the conversation. Jill shared some of the adventures she’d had with her boots, and before long, the waiter appeared with their lunch.

  He placed a large mixed garden salad garnished with jumbo grilled shrimp in front of Melba. She picked up the side of dressing, pleased to see it was a generous portion, and glanced over at Jill’s plate.

  What looked to be a breast of plain, broiled chicken was accompanied by a generous portion of mashed potatoes and a small bowl of creamy coleslaw. She watched as Jill picked out the few strands of color in the coleslaw.

  “I should have asked if this had red cabbage in it,” Jill explained when she noticed Melba observing her hasty food modification. “I’ve never been able to bring myself to eat it. When we were kids, Jake told me it was poisonous, and I guess that’s always stuck in my head. I know it’s not, but can’t get past it. Do you have a brother?”

  “No, I’m a singleton.” Something about Jill’s plate of food pinged in the back of her mind, but before she could isolate what it might be, Jill interrupted.

  “You don’t know how lucky you are. I wish I was an only child.”

  Melba finished applying her salad dressing and worked it through the vegetables. “I take it from your comments that you and Jake don’t get along.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Jill replied. “Your salad looks really colorful. It would drive Jake crazy.”

  “Really? Doesn’t he like vegetables?”

  “He does, but he can’t eat anything all mixed up like that. He has to separate everything out until it’s all in neat little separate piles. Then, he’s fine. My mother served mixed vegetables once, and I thought he was going to have a total meltdown. That was the first and last time she ever did that. He’s always been her favorite.”

  “Maybe I am lucky. It must be hard when you feel your mother cares more for another family member.”

  “It is, but you eventually get past it. I used to be so resentful. He was the one praised and supported, while I came in a very distant second. I thought when he went away, things would change, but they didn’t.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I only have one child. Abby was a handful at times, but thankfully, we didn’t have that kind of drama. That’s something to consider if, and when, you decide to start your own family.” Melba put down her fork as she studied the stricken look on Jill’s face. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Jill shook her head quickly. “No…not at all. I was just thinking about past unpleasantness…” She took a drink of water and then smiled brightly across the table. “Now, I think that’s more than enough about my dysfunctional world. How’s your week been?”

  Melba hit the highlights, sparing Jill any of the gory details. They talked about other new spots downtown and after their plates were cleared, Jill made another suggestion.

  “Hey, if you have time, would you like to come see the puppet theatre? I was such an utter bitch the last time you were there, I’d like to make amends. Especially since you were nice enough to show me your offices.”

  Melba checked her watch. “Sure. I have a few minutes. I can’t spend too much time, but I’d love to see the theatre.”

  The bill was soon settled, and they enjoyed the few block’s walk, occasionally stopping to check out a window display. “Have you been to Passed Around yet?” Melba asked, after noticing Jill was drawn to any window with even a hint of vintage style. “It’s just a couple of doors down from us and I bet you’d find a lot of things you’d like.”

  “Any chance there might be a new pair of boots hidden away?”

  “I haven’t seen any, but you never know. Moon always has treasures hidden.”

  “Moon?”

  “She’s the owner and a good friend of mine. I think she’s pretty well-known for her finds. You should check it out.”

  “Sounds like I need to. I’ll try and stop by the next time I can carve out a little time from the theatre. Speaking of which,” Jill pulled a large ring of keys from her pocket and jingled them merrily. “We’re here.”

  She unlocked the door and flipped on a few lights. “You’ve already seen the front, so I’ll spend more time on the back. That’s where all the magic happens anyway.”

  Jill led the way through the mostly dark theatre. It was a relatively small space, but she was justifiably proud of the cleverly tiered sections of seating and the banks of lighting hanging high above the stage. “All the lights are LED, and can be controlled from a computer,” she explained. “It’s very flexible and a lot cheaper to run than traditional lighting. Lots of places are gradually moving to this sort of system. I jumped right in, after learning about the advantages it offered. I bought the seating used and reupholstered all the chairs myself.”

  “That sounds like a lot of work,” Melba observed, while running her hands across the fabric covers. “You did a great job.”

  “Thanks. I got such a good deal on them, I couldn’t pass them up.”

  She pointed out the fantastically painted backdrop—gorgeous, but in the process of being repaired.

  “It’s beautiful,” Melba commented, taking in the detailed imagery.

  “It was,” Jill responded with a weary sigh. “And it will be again. We all worked for weeks painting that, and it was nearly ruined by Jake’s carelessness. Still, once I’m done, it won’t show too badly.”

  “What happened?”

  “Just another family feud. Come on, let me show you the work area.”

  Melba picked her way carefully across the almost dark stag
e and through what she was told was one of the ‘wings.’

  “Hang on a second. It’s kind of dark.” Jill unlocked a set of large double doors and flipped on more lights. “Come on back,” she called. “You should have plenty of light now.”

  Melba stepped through the doors and found herself in the middle of…chaos. “Wow.”

  “I know!” Jill laughed. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Everything’s in its place. I just have a lot of projects underway. That’s the main puppet theatre,” she explained, directing Melba’s attention to the large, complex object in the center of the room. “This part in front is the actual theatre, and the area behind with the platform is where I stand while I work the marionettes. It looks more complicated than it is. It all comes apart for transport, if needed. I’ve had it forever and lugged it around in my van when I toured the area. Now that it has a permanent home, I’m making a few modifications to allow me to handle more characters at once. I’m almost done. It just needs a couple of coats of paint and a new curtain, then I can move it to the stage.”

  “It’s really something. When you talked about a puppet theatre, I was expecting something totally different.”

  “I can use it for hand puppets, too. I just add a counter in front. Let me show you the best part.” Jill pulled back a set of folding doors, revealing her real pride and joy. “These are the other members of my family.” Dozens and dozens of marionettes hung from horizontal rods in the exposed alcove. Some were dressed elaborately and others were unadorned, plainly showing the joined legs, arms, and torsos. “Aren’t they great?”

  “They’re incredible. Where’d you find them all?”

  “Here and there. Some of them are really old and a couple were made by my grandfather. A few even traveled from Europe with him. They’re not in the best shape, but I learned how to properly repair them. I try to use them once in a while, in tribute to him.” She motioned to another work area, which included a large table, a huge stainless steel sink, shelves upon shelves of fabric, and a few industrial cabinets. “I have pretty much all I need to make and repair everything from puppets, to wigs, to clothes, and backdrops. I can create literally everything I need back here.”

  “Do you do it all yourself, or do you have help?”

  “I have a few helpers I use occasionally. I keep ongoing lists of everything I need to get done. I swear, I have clipboards with notes on them all over the place. I’m always leaving them around town, but I have the theatre name and number on the back, so if someone finds them, they can call me. My mother sometimes helps sew clothes, or she did, until Jake came back home. Since then, she’s been too busy.”

  “With what?”

  “She and Jake have some kind of special project going on. They’re pretty tight-lipped about whatever it is.”

  Melba wasn’t sure how to phrase her next question, given what she knew about Jill’s brother. “I thought Jake came back to help with all this.”

  Jill’s bitter laughter echoed through the room. “Unless it involves a starring role, Jake’s not interested in engaging in actual work. When he does show up, he does more harm than good. The only reason he’s here is to mooch off Mom. That story he gave you about coming home to help out was a bunch of bull. Fact is, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He’s washed up, broke, and won’t ever find his way back into the limelight. His chickens are all coming home to roost.”

  “I think that’s a little harsh, Jill. It would be such a shame to give your friend the wrong impression.”

  Jill flinched at the sudden sound of a woman’s cool, emotionless voice, and her skin flushed, and then quickly paled. “Mother, I didn’t expect to see you here this afternoon.”

  Melba turned as the woman approached and offered her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jocasta Anthony.”

  “Pleased to meet you. I’m Melba Reightman. Jill’s been nice enough to show me around the theatre. It’s remarkable. You must be very proud of all her work.”

  “Yes, of course I am. Both of my children are so resourceful.” Jocasta directed her attention to her still-pale daughter. “I won’t keep you. I just dropped by to get some fabric.” She strolled over to the shelving units and pulled down a couple of bolts of rather drab, splotchy gray material. “I thought I’d do some sewing.”

  She balanced the bolts on one hip and studied her daughter’s face. “Jill, you need to find some time to get more fresh air. You’re looking pasty.” She started toward the exit, stopping a few feet away from where Melba stood. “Has Jill shared her workshop idea? It’s so clever. She’ll be offering a chance for children to learn all about the things that go into making this place come alive. They’ll learn how to operate a simple marionette, make new costumes, and paint scenery.” She indicated her bundle of fabric. “I thought I’d contribute by making some smocks to cover their clothing so they won’t ruin anything. We don’t want to upset their parents, after all. Jill needs their continued patronage to keep this place open.”

  “I’m sure everyone in your family wants this theatre to be a success.”

  “Yes, of course we do. However, Jill is the one who counts on it to make her living. I have other sources of income. And my son, well, he’s been very successful. He’s the real star of the family.” She glanced back toward her daughter, gauging the impact of her words, then resumed her progression to the door. “I’ll see you later, Jill. Do try and refrain from airing any more dirty laundry. Especially when you fabricate and embellish the details to make your life seem more interesting. You always did have a gift for making up fairytales.” She curved her red lips into a smile. “Good bye, Ms. Reightman. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

  Melba watched her exit and then turned back to Jill. The young woman’s eyes were shadowed and cold. “Jill? Are you all right?”

  Jill’s face slowly relaxed, and she let out a deep breath. “My mother’s something else, isn’t she? She always makes an impression.”

  Melba shifted uneasily in the wake of the weird scene she’d just witnessed.

  “It’s okay,” Jill assured her. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what to say.” Melba searched for anything to ease the still palpable tension in the room. Hit with inspiration, she shifted her purse down from her shoulder and onto the large table and withdrew a cream colored envelope. “I know it’s kind of late notice,” she said as she passed it to the still-pale young woman. “We’re having a little party to celebrate our opening and, if you’re not busy, I hope you’ll join us.”

  Jill took the envelope and pulled out the invitation. After she scanned the details, she met Melba’s eyes. “You want me to come to this, even after that little scene?”

  Melba shrugged and smiled. “Sure. Why not? A little drama doesn’t scare me.”

  Jill gripped the edges of the envelope tightly enough that Melba could hear the paper crinkle. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I’d like that. I have to take care of some stuff over the weekend, but I’ll try to make it.”

  “Good. Now, I really have to get back to the office before someone sends a search party out after me.”

  “Let me walk you out.”

  “No, that’s okay. I can find the way. See you soon.”

  Melba kept her pace steady as she walked out of the workroom and across the darkened stage. After she hopped down off of the apron, her feet moved quickly, hurrying to carry her to the lobby and out the front door while she thought through all she’d seen and heard. She looked up into the small expanse of bright, cloudless, blue sky visible between the buildings lining the street and was unable to suppress the sudden shiver running down her spine. “Get a grip, Reightman,” she commanded herself. “You’re acting like someone just walked across your grave.”

  In the depths of her mind, something was trying to work its way free. She almost had it, but whatever it was cleverly managed to escape her mental grasp, and she worried about it the entire walk back to the off
ice. “It’ll come to you,” she assured herself. “If it’s important, it’ll come to you.”

  ***

  “How’s Moon?” Toby asked during the drive to Maria Escabar’s apartment.

  “She’s hanging in there,” Melba replied. She filled him in on their conversation, trying not to wince as he navigated downtown traffic. She was usually the designated driver, but today, he’d offered to play chauffeur. She’d temporarily forgotten how much she hated being a passenger, or she would have insisted on taking her car.

  When she recounted Moon’s offer to ride herd on Melissa and Emily, he laughed. “That sounds like so much fun! Truthfully, I’d rather play dress-up at Moon’s store than attend our own party.”

  “Me too, but don’t tell anyone. Especially Zhou Li. She’d be crushed.”

  He pulled into a parking space in front of a small, rundown four-plex and double-checked the address. “This is it. The Escabars live upstairs on the right.”

  “Looks kind of basic,” she observed, eyeing the peeling paint on the siding and the rusted wrought iron railing. She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her purse. “Ready?”

  “Yeah. You want to take the lead, or do you want me to?”

  “Let’s play it by ear and see how it goes. She may relate to one of us better than the other.”

  They climbed the stairs and knocked on the metal front door. After a moment, a tiny face peeped out from behind the metal blinds in the front window. Melba recognized the small child who had accompanied his mother as she’d canvassed the downtown neighborhoods and begged to be allowed to place the flyers with her daughter’s face in shop windows. An instant later, the door opened and Maria Escabar warily greeted them.

  After they’d introduced themselves, the tired, worried woman opened the door wider and invited them inside.

  The apartment was indeed basic, but spotlessly clean. Bright throw pillows were position carefully on the tired, floral sofa in an attempt to brighten up the dingy paint and threadbare carpeting. A few houseplants added some much-needed life to the place. Their hostess directed them to the sofa and retrieved a straight-backed chair from the small table positioned near the kitchen. She offered them ice water, which they both declined, before seating herself. The small boy hovered by his mother’s side, and watched them with a mixture of mistrust and open curiosity.