Peaches and Scream

by Chelsea Thomas

  “Let me remind you, I did not even get to sample the potatoes,” I said.

  “Oh, sorry, did we bail you out too soon?” Teeny asked.

  “No!” I splashed some water on my face, the lazy woman’s face-washing method, and looked back over at Miss May. “So what are we gonna do next that doesn’t break any laws? Any ideas?”

  Miss May shrugged. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

  Teeny and I made eye contact in the mirror. It wasn’t obvious to me and I don’t think was obvious to Teeny either. “I don’t think it’s obvious to either of us,” I said. “Tell us.”

  Miss May tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. “We need to go to Five Pines. We need to see what we can learn about Beth’s time there. And we need to talk to that murderous roommate.”

  26

  Not Three Pines, Not Four Pines

  Five Pines was a turn-of-the-century brick building up on a hill overlooking Pine Grove. After Jasmine’s description of the place, I was expecting something austere and institutional, but she’d been all wrong about the aesthetics of her former abode.

  The grounds were covered, and I mean covered, in pine trees. Five pines was a wild understatement. More like, five thousand pines. The building itself was beautiful, and we pulled up on a beautiful day. It felt more like we were showing up for a picnic at a manor than pulling up to a mental health facility.

  We arrived at around nine in the morning. It was a 70° day. The sky was blue with cotton candy clouds. We parked off to the side of the building and climbed out of Teeny’s convertible. I looked around. “Is it just me… Or is this place gorgeous?”

  Miss May nodded. “It’s lovely. Before it was a mental hospital, it was home to one of Pine Grove’s wealthiest citizens. I think he was a logging millionaire in the late 1800’s. Rumor is, he built this place for his wife and his wife was mentally ill. People say that after she died, he turned the home into a mental hospital to help others like her through their struggles.”

  “That’s a good husband,” said Teeny. “I hope my husband opens a mental hospital after I die. So romantic.”

  I shrugged. “I guess. But you’re not mentally ill. Or married.”

  Teeny shrugged. “A girl can dream.”

  I chuckled. “You want Big Dan to open a mental hospital in your honor?”

  Teeny huffed and blushed. “I didn’t say that.”

  Miss May started up a flight of concrete stairs toward the main entrance.

  Teeny and I followed. “You really think they’re just going to tell us who Beth’s roommate was?” Teeny called up to Miss May.

  “Sure,” said Miss May. “We’ll use our wits and our charm. We’ll loosen them up with some pie.”

  Inwardly, I worried that the residents of Pine Grove were beginning to catch on to Miss May’s “pies-as-bribes-for-information” routine, but I didn’t say it out loud. Even if people knew the schtick, it was still hard to resist fresh, homemade pie.

  We took the elevator to the third floor and piled out into a small waiting room. A gaunt, seven-foot-tall man eerily stood behind the counter, typing on a computer. He was easily the tallest man I had ever seen in real life. Any comforting feelings I’d felt outside in the picturesque parking lot were replaced by dread at the sight of the skeletal giant at the reception desk. He spoke without looking up from his computer. His voice was deep and booming which, in my opinion, was the scariest type of voice he could have had. “Sign into the guestbook. List the name and room number of patient with whom you’d like to visit. Provide your government ID’s. Thank you.”

  “Actually, we’re not here to visit a patient,” Miss May said.

  “You’re not here to visit me, either,” said the skinny man. “So why are you here?”

  The man looked up from his screen, and somehow his gaze was even more unsettling than his other features. He had pale blue eyes like a Siberian Husky. They were flat and emotionless.

  The kind of eyes that take you by surprise, no matter how well you know them.

  Miss May stammered. “As it happens, I believe we are here to visit you.” Miss May pulled an individual-sized peach pie from her purse. “Do you like pie?”

  The man leaned over and sniffed the pie. “I’m allergic to peaches.”

  Miss May replaced the pie in her purse and pulled out an apple pie. Once again, the man looked over. “I don’t like apple pie. Generally, pies disgust me. They have crust so you think you can pick them up and eat them like a slice of pizza. But if you pick up a slice of pie you end up with pie all down your front and on your pants. It’s unsanitary and I don’t like it. Please put the pie away.”

  Miss May looked over at me. I shrugged. It seemed that without pie we would have to rely solely on our wits if we were going to get any information from the deep-voiced beanstalk.

  “Why are you trying to bribe me with pie?” I knew people were onto the pie bribes.

  Teeny snickered. “Bribe. Bribe is a harsh word. We are just here to trade pie for information. That’s not a big deal. That’s small town living at its finest. We bring you a pie and you tell us what we need to know.”

  The skinny man narrowed his eyes. “You want information about Beth.”

  Miss May nodded. “That’s right. We were friends of Beth’s.”

  “Beth didn’t have a lot of friends. And the three of you are not her type. Try the truth.”

  Miss May looked from me over to Teeny. Teeny smiled her big, nervous smile. Not very helpful but extremely cute. “I’m smiling but it doesn’t seem to be charming him,” Teeny said through gritted teeth.

  Miss May turned back to the man. “I love to tell the truth. The truth is that we are amateur detectives. We want to solve the case of Beth’s murder and we think you have information that could prove useful in our investigation. You are correct about the pie. I was trying to use it to endear myself to you in hopes that you provide the information we need.”

  “But I hate pie.”

  “Yes, you mentioned,” Miss May said. “An unexpected obstacle but I still think the four of us can work together.”

  “I can’t tell you anything. That’s the law. I don’t like pie but I love the law. Before I worked here, I studied to be a lawyer but I was too tall for that.”

  “There’s no height limit for lawyers,” said Teeny. “I know, because I used to think I was too short to be a lawyer.”

  “She’s right,” Miss May said. “I know, because I actually used to be a lawyer.”

  “The other lawyers picked on me. They called me the world’s tallest lawyer. They tried to climb me like a tree. I dropped out of law school after three months. The hardest three months of my life. The people here, at this institution? They don’t judge me. They all have freakish abnormalities, just like me.”

  “I’m glad you found sufficient comfort among other people who understand you,” I said. “That’s important in life. Comfort.”

  “You’re right. And it’s hard for me to be comfortable. Especially when people try to climb you like a tree. I also hate when people ask me if I play basketball. Do I look like I play basketball?”

  “Kind of,” said Teeny. She clasped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry. No. You don’t. Was the correct answer no?”

  “I’m not athletic. I believe that’s clear for all to see despite my height. For instance, look closely at the hunch of my spine. Not the spine of a ‘baller.’”

  “Anyway…” Miss May leaned on the counter. “Is there any chance you can help us out? All we want to know is who Beth’s roommate was…”

  “The records are sealed. And so is my mouth. I can’t tell you anything and I won’t. Also, I would not have told you anything even if I did like pie. I would have eaten the pie and then refused to help. Because I’m a man of honor.”

  Miss May looked into the man’s eyes for ten seconds straight. He did not flinch. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even blink. Finally, she turned back to me and Teeny. “OK. Let’s get out of here.”


  We gave them in a polite nod and headed down the hall, back toward the elevator. “What are we going to do now?” I asked.

  Miss May entered the elevator and pressed the floor marked with a B. She looked at me with a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “We’re going to the record room.”

  Teeny and I groaned and said in perfect unison, “So much for not breaking the law.”

  27

  Going Down

  DING. BING. The elevator doors opened into a narrow, cement hall. Water dripped from an unknown source. Little rodent footsteps scurried in the walls. The place smelled like an unpleasant mix of terror and mold. I swallowed and the sound echoed off the walls.

  “Why are we down here?” I whispered.

  “It’s the basement. I’m assuming this is where they keep the records.” Miss May looked around. “It’s awful dark though.”

  Teeny flipped a switch on the wall. A row of yellow light bulbs lit up one by one, from the spot where we stood all the way down to the other end of the hall. It was very cinematic.

  Doors lined the hallway. There were no windows on the doors and we couldn’t see inside the rooms. “Do you think they used to keep patients down here?” I tried one of the door knobs and it was locked. “I know the story about how this place was started is sweet but a lot of mental institutions have checkered pasts. I heard about one place where they tested patients by pulling their teeth right out of their—”

  Teeny held up her hand. “Enough. That’s enough. That is not a Jenna and Mr. Flowers-approved conversation. I don’t want to think about anything more atrocious than the way this place smells. It does not smell good.”

  “Fair,” I said. I turned to Miss May. “So what now?”

  Miss May shrugged. “We try every door. We’ll find something. And if we’re lucky, one of these rooms will house the hospital records.”

  We were lucky. The first door I tried opened to a small room stacked with papers, folders and filing cabinets. I picked up one of the folders. It was dated from the year 1959. “They don’t throw anything away in this place.”

  “Is there any organizational system in here, I wonder?” Miss May opened the drawer in a filing cabinet. “This cabinet is alphabetical, kind of. But it’s only A through G.”

  Someone whistled a happy tune from out in the hall. Miss May, Teeny, and I froze. “Who’s that?” Teeny squeaked. “I’m scared. This is not how I want to die.”

  “No one is going to kill us, Teeny.” Miss May looked at the crack in the door. “I don’t see anyone.”

  The whistling continued. “Look closer.” I joined Miss May at the door. “Someone is down in this basement. Whistling.”

  “Unless it’s a ghost whistle,” Teeny gasped.

  At that moment, the tall, skinny man from upstairs strolled by, eating a sandwich. He had little white headphones in his ears and he was bopping his head along to music. Miss May and I stumbled back into the records room, shocked.

  Teeny stepped toward us. “What? What was it? Did you see a ghost?”

  “It was the skinny giant.” I peeked back outside and the man was gone. “He was eating a sandwich.”

  Teeny gasped. “Who would eat down here? Disgusting.”

  “There must be a break room down in the basement.” Miss May closed the door. The latch did not make a noise as the door shut. “We better move quick. We’re in trouble if that guy finds us.”

  Teeny pointed at another filing cabinet, across the room from the one Miss May had opened earlier. “Chelsea. Check in there.”

  I popped open the first drawer. My eyes widened. “I think this is it. H through Z. Let’s see. Jenkins… Beth Jenkins… Is she in here?”

  “Look carefully,” said Miss May. “Some of the folders stick together. Don’t miss any.”

  I winced. Miss May was right. Several of the folders had been stuck together. I tried to ignore it but now that she had said it out loud I felt queasy. What kind of ooze had glued these ancient papers to themselves? “This place doesn’t take any pride in record-keeping,” I said.

  “It’s a second-rate institution,” said Miss May. “Even third or fourth.”

  “I found it.” I pulled out a folder labeled Jenkins, Beth. “This is the file.”

  “What’s it say?” Teeny asked.

  “Basic stuff. These are the results from her physical. She was in good health so we know there was no underlying cause for her death.”

  “What room was she in? Who was her roommate?”

  I flipped the page. And there was the information we wanted. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Oh my goodness,” I said.

  “What?” Teeny whispered so loud it was almost a shriek. “Tell us what you found.”

  “Beth’s roommate was Lillian Edwards!”

  Miss May blinked fast a few times. “The woman who gave Beth’s eulogy? How could that be?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. But according to these records, Lillian is still a patient at this hospital. And she’s staying in room 408.”

  28

  Upstairs, Downstairs

  Neither me, nor Teeny, nor Miss May wanted to ride the elevator back up from the basement. We’d felt trapped in the creepy elevator earlier, so we wanted to find a different exit. As soon as the skinny giant was out of earshot, we slipped into the hall and looked for an alternate way out.

  “There’s probably an exit down here somewhere,” I said. “We just have to look.”

  Miss May nodded. “I agree. You go first.”

  She gave me a little nudge and I headed down the hall.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  Water seemed to ooze from every ceiling crack, every rusty pipe in sight. I needed to get out of there. I walked with cautious determination. I craned my neck to peer into some of the doors we passed, but they were all unmarked, windowless, and creepy.

  “This basement is a disgrace,” said Teeny. “I would never send someone I love to to be a patient at this place. What’s in all these other rooms? Dead bodies, probably.”

  Miss May sighed. “Teeny. No. I’m sure it’s just more records and…I don’t know. There are a lot of doors in this hallway.”

  Teeny looked around with wide eyes. “I dunno. I think it’s a bunch of dead bodies. I bet those sickos in the doctor coats are experimenting on people then killing ‘em and putting ‘em down here like the Parisian catacombs.”

  “Alright. Enough. Please. I don’t think the basement is filled with bodies, but you’re freaking me out. Let’s find an exit.” I pointed and made a right turn around a corner. At the end of another hallway was a peeling old door. “Maybe there?”

  I jogged up to the door and gave it a little push. It opened with minimal resistance, and I stumbled into the startlingly bright outdoors.

  Teeny held up her hands to block the light. “Whew. That sun is brutal.” She put on her red cateye sunglasses. “That’s better.”

  Miss May was the last of us to spill out through the door. “Thank goodness we’re out. Now we just have to find a way back in.”

  “Back in?!” Teeny exclaimed.

  I shuddered. “Right. I almost forgot. Lillian Edwards. Room 408. We need to talk to her. But… I don’t want to.”

  “Yeah, nobody wants to! We just escaped,” Teeny said. “How are we going to get back in? That skinny, scary giant is everywhere. I feel his pale, Siberian husky eyes on me everywhere I turn. What kind of lunatic doesn’t like pie? I’m telling you, there’s something off about that man.”

  “I’m pretty sure we all think there’s something off about him,” I agreed. “He feels most at home in a mental hospital, so…”

  “I think stumbling out this rear exit may have been a lucky break,” said Miss May. She pointed toward the other end of the building. “Look. See that refrigerated truck parked about a hundred meters from here? That’s a food truck.”

  “You’re not hungry, are you?” Teeny asked. “No judgment, of course. I’m just feeling a little too terrified
to eat right now. Which, I’ll admit, is rare for me.”

  “I’m not hungry, Teeny.” Miss May started walking in the direction of the truck. “But I recognize that truck. It delivers to the grocery stores in town and a couple restaurants too. Dairy. Eggs. Produce. Stuff like that.”

  “I don’t understand why that matters,” I said.

  Miss May shook her head. “Because the truck is making a delivery right now. Which means we’re probably close to the kitchen. If we can find the kitchen, I bet we can locate a freight elevator which will bypass the lobby and take us straight to residential quarters.”

  Teeny turned down the sides of her mouth, impressed. “Cool plan, May. You know, sometimes I forget why you’re the boss. Then you say stuff like that and I remember.”

  “I’m not the boss,” said Miss May.

  “Yes, you are.” Teeny and I spoke in unison. Miss May rolled her eyes and kept walking toward the truck.

  Miss May turned back to us with a smile. “I was right. That’s the service entrance for the kitchen. Follow me.”

  Miss May quickened her stride. I jogged to catch up to her. “Hold on. What’s our plan when we get in there?”

  “I’ll make a sales pitch to the kitchen manager. I’ll tell them that we’re here to wholesale pies. I’ve done wholesale pitches before, it will be easy for me. While I distract them the two of you find the freight elevator and sneak upstairs.”

  “I don’t want to go up there without you,” I said. “You’re usually in charge of the questions.”

  Miss May sighed. “OK. Find the elevator and flag me down. I’ll jump in and we’ll all go together. Alright?”

  I nodded. In truth, I didn’t love the plan. It was loose. There was too much opportunity for something to go wrong. But I didn’t have any better ideas so I had no choice but to follow along.