Nether Regions

by Nat Burns

“I left it with Larry at the dealership. He’s gonna sell it and give the money to Mama.”

  “Can I do anything for you?”

  “I’d give it to you if we weren’t trying to keep ourselves separate. It would just look too suspicious. Larry’ll just sell it is all.”

  “Oh no, I agree that’s best. She’ll need the money without your income.” Delora winced, hoping she hadn’t touched on a sore topic.

  Surprisingly he replied in a positive vein. “Mama’ll be all right. She’s tough as nails. Now she’ll have a chance to prove it.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  “I don’t know why you’re dragging me down here,” Stephen complained in a whisper as they entered the Tyson County Public Library.

  The building was relatively new, and its clean, sweeping architectural lines screamed modern. Sophie liked it, though, and came here often to do research. A healer was only as good as her knowledge, and Grandam always said knowledge must be fed as often as the body.

  “What? Am I keeping you away from Conrad? How is he by the way?”

  “We’re not seeing each other anymore. He’s a drama queen and a player.” His tone was peevish.

  “And you’re not? A drama queen, I mean.” They approached the reference stacks.

  “Lay off, Sophie.” He paused and studied the ranks of multicolored spines. “So what are we looking for?”

  “You find the PDR and I’ll look up dermatology. I’ve seen a new rash I’m not sure about.”

  He favored Sophie with a quizzical stare. “The PD what?”

  Sophie, already engrossed in a thick nursing book, answered absently. “Physician’s Desk Reference. It’s a big red book, says PDR.”

  “Here you go, Stephen,” said a familiar voice.

  Sophie looked up, her mouth falling open.

  Righteous looked good. His smooth face would always bear the dark, rough scars of his beating, but his eyes were serene. He was dressed well too, more conservative than before, in dark slacks and a dark green oxford shirt.

  “This is the most recent,” he continued, pulling the book from the shelf and handing it to Stephen.

  Stephen’s hands moved to automatically take the book. He turned his head toward Sophie, his eyes never leaving Righteous’s face. “Sophie, did you…?”

  “I swear, I didn’t know,” Sophie replied quietly as she took the PDR from Stephen and beat a hasty retreat, taking a seat at one of the reading tables in the middle of the open area.

  “How are you, Stephen?” Righteous’s voice was low and gentle.

  “I’m good, Righteous. You? You look good.”

  Righteous laughed and Stephen could see two new silver teeth, probably crowning teeth damaged in the beating. “Sure do ache sometimes.”

  “Yeah, getting old is hell, ain’t it?” Stephen smiled in return.

  Righteous sobered. “I work here now. I put the books back on the shelves and help borrowers with online stuff. It’s a good job.”

  Stephen watched Righteous as if mesmerized. He had magically morphed into all that Stephen had wanted him to be.

  “How about you? Still at Backslant?”

  “Yeah. Still there.”

  A pause fell, pregnant and enticing.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Righteous’s eyes grew doubtful.

  “I’m wondering what time you get off and if you’ll have dinner with me.”

  Righteous dropped his gaze and lowered his head. “Are you sure you want that?”

  “Yeah, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Righteous didn’t answer right away. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He sighed loudly. “Stephen, I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m reminded of that every time I look in the mirror. I want you to know that. I’ve changed my life, my job, the people I see, my way of thinking.”

  Stephen cocked his head to one side, studying Righteous closely. “For the better?”

  “I think so. I know so.”

  “Good. That’s good then.”

  Capturing his full lower lip in silver teeth, Righteous seemed hesitant to express his thoughts. Stephen waited patiently. He longed to touch Righteous but knew the road back there would be a long one after what he’d done. After what Righteous had done. Although Righteous turned his head away, his words found Stephen and lodged in his heart.

  “Even dinner would mean a lot to me. Too much. Maybe it would be better if...”

  Frowning, Stephen sought Sophie with his eyes in order to stall for time and allow him to think. She sat at the table engrossed in a book, not seeming to feel his gaze. He took his time, wanting to make sure his next words were as precise as possible.

  “What? Maybe it would be better if we pretend we didn’t see one another? Pretend what we have between us—what we still have between us—doesn’t exist? I can’t do that. I won’t.”

  Righteous’s surprised eyes found Stephen. “Still? After all I’ve put you through?”

  Stephen only laughed ruefully, allowing his eyes to speak his feelings.

  Righteous grinned, round cheeks darkening with pleasure. “Five. I get off at five.”

  Moments later Stephen plopped into the hard wooden chair across from Sophie.

  “Well, that’s that,” he said.

  Sophie gave him her full attention. “What did you do?”

  “We’re going to dinner tonight.”

  “Well, I’m impressed. That was fast.”

  “Hmmm,” he agreed. “Strange, isn’t it. All I have to do is see him and all the feelings come back, no matter what.”

  Sophie craned her neck so she could see Righteous. He was helping an elderly woman, one of the Bennets, use the computer. “He looks good. Better than last time you saw him.”

  “I feel bad about that, about running out on him. That wasn’t fair.”

  Sophie shrugged. “You’d been through a lot. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  Stephen crossed his legs, resting the ankle of one on the knee of the other. His fingers plucked at the hem of his jeans. “I’m past all that. The question is, do you think he still loves me?”

  “He’s not seeing anyone. Hasn’t since the beating. I’m not sure he ever stopped loving you.”

  “Even after I left him that way?”

  Sophie was losing patience. Dealing with the loss of Beulah, her mother’s presence and the problems with Delora were wearing on her. “It looks to me like you’re about even finally. He cheated until he got beat almost to death. You ran out on him and had your fling with Conrad…”

  She felt a sudden rush of her natural compassion and reached to press his hand. “Give it a chance. It’ll all work out.”

  She didn’t want to tell him that Righteous never said a bad word about Stephen and the abandonment during his lengthy recovery. Each time Sophie visited him at his cousin Leon’s house, his eyes would ask an unspoken question. The first few times Sophie had obliged by telling him local gossip, including an update on Stephen, that he was still working, still living in the trailer. She did not tell him when Stephen took up with Conrad, and when she stopped mentioning him, the unasked questions had stopped.

  Stephen lowered his leg and leaned forward. “How are you doing, Soph? I think about you every day since Miss Beulah passed.”

  “Fair,” Sophie replied with a shaky breath. “I miss her all the time.”

  “What’s going on with you and Delora? You haven’t seen her, have you?”

  “No.” She glanced away, eyes searching the library as she organized her thoughts. “I was with her when Grandam passed. I’m having trouble with that.”

  “Why?”

  “I should have been with Grandam.”

  Stephen’s mind raced with this information. He knew something about the Manus’s belief that a person should never die alone because it sets up a situation of anger in the next world. Makes the spirits restless.

  “Sophie, this is Beulah we’re talkin’ about, come on.”


  “I know and it’s not her, it’s Mama and Clary and the other people I work with. I see it in their eyes. Some don’t know where I was, they don’t care, but they know I wasn’t there, with her. I didn’t find her ’til the next morning, and it was a night that Clary wasn’t there. We didn’t usually leave her alone since the strokes. And then this time...it means that Grandam,” her voice broke, but she continued on, “that she was alone in the house when she passed. No loved person should die alone.”

  They fell silent. Sophie’s palm rubbed obsessively against the smooth texture of the paper bound into the book she’d been reading.

  “I just have this to say, Sophie. You’ve been treating me for every cold and scrape for years and one of the most important things I’ve learned from you is the power of believing. You always tell me I have to believe myself well, that my mindset is what determines my life. See, I have been listening to you.” He smiled to engage her full attention.

  “Now I see you losing your faith in yourself, in your own power to shape your life the way that’s right for you. You need to move forward. You can’t change the past, but you can shape the future. This little Delora gal made you as happy as I’ve ever seen you. I can’t see you shutting her out.”

  Sophie’s mouth formed a twist as she mentally chewed his words. “You’re a wise man, Stephen. Too wise. Go find something to read until I’m finished here.”

  “So you’ll call her?”

  “Go. Read.” Her tone was firm.

  He rose and moved away, muttering. “Try to reason with some people…”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Blossom’s was unusually quiet, which was a relief. Delora was troubled, though. Mostly by the shark of a man sitting at the end of the bar. It was Louie’s friend, Hard Eyes. She would never forget his face and the way he looked at her. He was looking at her the same way now.

  He lifted his coffee cup to her, his eyes fastening on her hips, her breasts, her hair—anywhere but where they were supposed to look.

  “You holdin’ up okay, darlin’?” he asked as Delora leaned over to fill his cup.

  “I’m good. And you?”

  He sighed and reared back, flicking his cigarette ashes into the ashtray on the counter. “I miss my jawin’ buddy, but I bet you’re missin’ a whole lot more, sleepin’ alone at night.”

  Delora pressed her lips together and turned away, carrying the carafe back to the machine. He watched her as she lit a cigarette of her own. She hoped he couldn’t see her hands shaking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his head swivel as he took in the empty diner before speaking again.

  “I have a little story to tell if you’re interested in hearin’ it.”

  Delora wanted to interrupt, but he gave her no opportunity to speak.

  “Bud Carey useta sit with us too, you know. Good man but drinks more than a little. I saw him just the other day, and we was talkin’ about the funeral and so on, and you know what he tells me?”

  Delora waited, wishing she had the courage to be outright rude to a customer.

  “He says that you killed old Lou. You and some feller out at the park.”

  Delora felt as if she’d been doused with ice water. Every hair on her body was standing on end, and she could not find her voice. She did not look at him as she tried to compose herself.

  “Now why would I kill him? And who is this fellow he’s talking about?” she asked after some time had passed.

  Hard Eyes sighed. “Don’t know who the feller is, but I think I might just have to find out. That is, unless you and me can come to some sort of understandin’.”

  Delora cringed. “What is it you want from me?”

  “Well, I know you must’ve got a good payoff, otherwise, why bother doin’ him in? I just want a piece of that is all.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He glanced around the diner once more to make sure they were alone. “Money, is what. You give me a little to get me by. I don’t need much. Not much at all.”

  His eyes roamed across her like kudzu in a stand of young trees.

  Delora felt her own eyes grow hard. “What makes you think I have money?”

  He drew on his cigarette until the ash end reflected bright on his cheeks and fingers as he removed it from his lips. Smoke followed the cigarette, a looping tail of exhaust. Everything seemed to be moving way too slow. Delora could not believe this was happening. She should have known better. What was she thinking, actually believing she could have a life free from the burden of Louie? It must be her karma or something because now here was Mister Hard Eyes stepping right in to take old Louie’s place.

  “From what I see, you had it pretty soft there for a while. You had Lou’s check comin’ regular. Lived with your ma who took care of everythin’. There plain weren’t no reason to kill him unless there was some life insurance money out there.”

  Delora took her time crushing out her cigarette. She leaned back against the cash register and studied Hard Eyes. He was a weasel. A big weasel with swarthy features and greasy hair. He was good looking, in a foreign way, but he sure sickened her. “You are one crazy motherfucker, you know that? Louie fell before I even got there.”

  “Naw.” Hard Eyes shook his head in the negative and closed his eyes. He chuckled deep in his throat. “Naw, that ain’t how Bud says it. Says y’all had a fight and that boy of yourn’ pushed Louie into the concrete and kilt him.”

  Delora felt her breath stop. She was straight on dying right here in front of this blackmailing son-of-a-bitch. Anger swelled in her until she could breathe again. It was everything she could do not to crawl across the bar and rip his Adam’s apple right out of his sorry throat. He was watching her for some reaction, making him victorious, but she would die before she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing he’d riled her.

  “Well, Bud’s had just one snort too many is all I can tell you,” she said finally, her voice shaky. “You tell him to mind his own business.”

  Hard Eyes sighed and pushed his cigarette butt hard into the ashtray. “Well, he and the sheriff will just have to talk about how much Bud had that day, won’t they?”

  Delora ignored him, checking the level of the ice bin and straightening the rail booze behind her. She knew he was studying her in the mirror.

  “Look,” she said finally. “I ain’t got nothin’ for you. You need to just get on with yourself.”

  The heavy outside door squealed and with relief Delora saw Marina enter. Her eyes left Marina and snapped to Hard Eyes to see what he would do. He gathered his cigarettes and lighter, his eyes undressing her. “You meet me Friday, here, when your shift ends. We’ll talk this out.”

  He nodded to Marina as he passed her on his way out.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  “I want you to come to Florida with me and Johnny. There’s nothing for you here now.”

  Sophie’s head snapped up and Clary turned from the sink in a slow roll of motion.

  “You want what?” Clary’s voice was incredulous. “You can’t take her from...”

  “Hold on, honey, hold on,” Sophie interrupted. “What are you talkin’ about, Mama?”

  Faye paused doubtfully and shrugged. “I just think that now Mama’s gone, you might want to have a change. You could go to college, maybe meet someone to settle down with. I don’t know. I just think it’s a good idea is all.” Her long, crimson nails fiddled with the cloth placemat on the table in front of her.

  Johnny, pausing in his consumption of rhubarb pie, cleared his throat. “You’d be welcome, Sophie, no doubt about that. We’ve got plenty of room and even a swimming pool. You might want to think about it.”

  Sophie chewed the idea and found it tasty. She was sore, sick and tired of just about everything at this moment. She’d been looking after the same people with the same ailments for more than twenty years. The thought of carrying on without Grandam was not a pleasant one.

  “Johnny does all right, honey. We’ve got a big house. Gu
lf Coast College and the University of Florida are both close. Loving books the way you do, I bet you’d do good at school.”

  Clary was glaring at Sophie and the gaze felt hot on her skin. “I don’t know, Mama. It sounds nice, but who’d look after all the folks here?”

  Clary relaxed a little.

  “Let them go to a regular doctor just like everyone else,” Faye said in a scornful voice. “They get such a free ride with you looking after them. You end up paying for everything.”

  Sophie sighed. It was true, to a degree.

  “Faye, you leave her be. You know Sophie’s place is here with her people. Your place is here too, if you’d admit it to yourself.” Clary dried a glass dish so enthusiastically Sophie worried she’d break it.

  “Clare, stay out of this,” Faye warned. She leaned back and lit a cigarette. “This is Sophie’s call. Why should she feel like she has to waste herself here in the bayou? There’s a big world out there and with someone as bright as she is, there’s no end to what she can do. I think she deserves that chance. You would to, if you really cared about her.”

  “Cared about her? Shit, Faye, you’ve gone loony.” Clary slammed the dish on the counter. “All that damned money you got now must have addled your brain.”

  Faye watched Clary with jaundiced eyes. “Don’t go there, Clary. I can still whip your ass if I have to.”

  Clary’s mouth fell open. Johnny turned wide eyes to his wife.

  “Stop it, you two. Mama, I appreciate the offer, I really do.” She thought of Delora and pain ripped her heart anew. “Maybe I could come stay a little while. Maybe before all the kids start school again and they start up with colds and all.”

  “I can’t be party to this shit,” Clary said, gathering up her handbag and car keys. “Go home, Faye, go back to your life. You left here a long time ago. You made that choice and Soph made hers. Deal with it. I love you and you’re my dearest friend, but go home and leave this girl alone.” She turned to Sophie. “Sophia Cofe, when you come to your senses, you call me.”

  Sophie stared at the empty space Clary had occupied for a long time. “Well,” she said finally.