Life Support

by Robert Whitlow

  After the detective left, Rena said to Alexia, “Come out to the kitchen while I wash my hands.”

  When she finished cleaning up, Rena poured each of them another cup of coffee. The two women stood on opposite sides of a large island in the center of the kitchen. Overhead, an expensive set of pots and pans hung down from a rack suspended from the ceiling. The island was covered with hand-painted, imported tiles.

  “Do you think the detective was trying to blame me for what happened?” Rena asked anxiously.

  “What made you think that?” Alexia asked with surprise. “You’re a victim, too.”

  Rena sighed. “I know, but I can’t shake the horrible feeling that the police are after me. Why did he ask me all those questions?”

  “He’s trying to find out who stole the car. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Rena put a little more sugar in her coffee. “I forgot to ask him when I could pick up the car.”

  “I’ll call him on Monday,” Alexia said.

  After Alexia left, Rena went upstairs and retrieved the notebook she’d taken from the dead sheriff’s deputy. She started a small fire in the living room fireplace and burned it. The taxi driver who drove her from Charleston had let her out of his car four blocks away, and there hadn’t been a public trash receptacle where she could throw it away before arriving home.

  She anxiously watched the evening news from Charleston. The report on the death of Officer Dixon was the primary news item for the show. It included a file photo of a slightly slimmer policeman taken several years before. He was a Marine Corp veteran who had served on the local police forces for thirty-one years. Following the picture of the officer was a photo of Rena’s car and a description of what the police believed might have happened. The segment concluded with an interview of Detective Devereaux in which he asked anyone with information about the case to contact the sheriff ’s department. Rena was nervously playing with a heavy glass ashtray and wanted to throw it at the screen to get him to shut up.

  A few minutes after the show ended Rena’s cell phone rang. She jumped at the sound and looked at the caller identification. It was Jeffrey.

  “I guess you saw the news,” she said.

  “Yeah. Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m a nervous wreck.”

  “When was the car stolen?”

  Rena told him, and Jeffrey began an interrogation not unlike the one conducted by Officer Devereaux. Rena answered a few questions about the car but then began to wonder what the guardians sent by Jeffrey had told him about her activities. They might know whether or not she’d walked to town, and she didn’t want to get caught in a lie.

  “Why are you asking me questions?” she responded when Jeffrey asked what she had been doing all day. “Get a report from the people who are watching me all the time. Maybe they know who stole the car.”

  “Okay, relax. I’m sorry.”

  “Do you have any information for my lawyer?” Rena asked.

  “Not yet. I’ve been on the golf course all day, and I have a date tonight with someone I met in California. I’m driving to the airport to pick her up in a few minutes.”

  Rena grunted. Jeffrey had exhausted the local stock and was importing a new girlfriend. She couldn’t believe she’d actually considered him as a suitor when they went to dinner in Greenville.

  “Will you be coming to the hearing in Greenville on Friday?” Rena asked.

  “No. I’ve not changed my mind. You and your lawyer are doing everything backwards. Baxter isn’t a threat to anyone. The power of attorney is your enemy. You need to convince Lindale that the best way to help you is to go after my father.”

  “I just don’t want Baxter to suffer,” Rena said. “It’s not right.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Jeffrey responded.

  After she clicked off the phone, Rena went to the medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of prescription sleeping pills. She didn’t want to stay awake and continue to worry. Shaking a couple of pills in her hand, she swallowed them with a gulp of water and went to bed.

  34

  Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret.

  EPHESIANS 5:11–12

  Ted always sat on the piano bench until it was time for the sermon. The order of worship at Sandy Flats Church was the product of a committee, and Ted had specific, nonnegotiable duties. To do something other than what was printed in the Sunday morning bulletin would be tantamount to editing the Ten Commandments. Ted provided as much spiritual vitality as possible within the rigid guidelines, but it has always been difficult trying to breathe life into dry bones.

  During the first hymn, he looked out at the congregation and saw Marylou Hobart. She was wearing a yellow-and-green dress, and her hair was wound in a tight, gray bun. She was holding a hymnbook and her lips were moving. Mrs. Hobart wouldn’t be able to hear the piano well enough to keep pace with the melody and the rhythm, and Ted could only imagine the sounds that were coming from her lips. He inwardly chuckled at the thought of her making a joyful noise to God. During the third verse, he glanced toward another part of the sanctuary and saw Alexia. She was dressed in an elegant, dark green dress, more feminine than the clothes she’d worn during their previous meetings.

  The service followed a course as steady and predictable as a river winding its way through an old valley. The layman assisting in the pulpit read a list of announcements, and John Heathcliff led the congregation in the Lord’s Prayer. The prayer was followed by the offertory. While he played, Ted saw the shiny brass plate pass in front of Marylou Hobart, who deposited several wrinkled bills. She looked up, saw Ted, and rewarded him with a gap-toothed smile.

  Ted played the piano during the anthem and simultaneously directed the choir. When he needed to emphasize a choral transition, he maintained the flow of the melody with his right hand and signaled entrances and cutoffs with the left. The last note by all the voices was crisply stopped with a flick of Ted’s hand.

  Rev. Heathcliff spoke on the parable of the talents. After listening for ten minutes, Ted set his jaw firmly to stifle the yawns that threatened to pry open his mouth. John Heathcliff wasn’t a bad minister, but his skills at maneuvering his way through church politics were more highly developed than his ability to preach the truths of Scripture. Precisely at 11:55 A.M., Rev. Heathcliff finished the sermon, and Ted resumed his seat at the piano for the closing hymn. If the song had four verses, the insistent call of Sunday dinner usually required that the third verse be omitted. Sandy Flats Church was not located near the main restaurants in the area, and most members of the congregation didn’t want to be penalized in their race to the buffet line by a long closing hymn. Ted timed the final note perfectly as watches beeped the top of the hour all over the sanctuary.

  He was playing the postlude when Alexia and Mrs. Hobart converged across the altar rail from the piano.

  “Hello!” he shouted at Mrs. Hobart.

  At the sound of his voice, Alexia stopped and took a step backward.

  “You don’t have to yell,” she said.

  “I’m talking to her,” Ted replied, taking his left hand off the keyboard to gesture toward Mrs. Hobart. “I’ll be finished in a minute!” he shouted.

  Mrs. Hobart gave him a wrinkled smile. “I’d like to go out to eat. I haven’t had any fish to eat in ages. Could we go together?”

  Ted nodded. “Yes!”

  “I’ll tell the woman who brought me to church to go on home.”

  The old woman turned and walked toward the back of the sanctuary. Ted finished playing the piano with a run from the bottom to the top of the keyboard and then swiveled on the bench toward Alexia.

  “Mrs. Hobart is mostly deaf,” Ted said. “Would you like to join us for lunch? I think we’re going to eat fish.”

  Alexia laughed, and Ted could see joy shining from her eyes.


  “Yes. Fish sounds great.”

  They walked together down the aisle to the narthex. Marylou Hobart was shaking John Heathcliff ’s hand and talking to him. The minister had a puzzled look on his face. Ted introduced him to Alexia, and he perked up.

  “I hope you’ll come back.”

  “I’m sure I will,” she said.

  Ted, Alexia, and Mrs. Hobart walked down the steps together.

  “Can we take your car?” Ted asked Alexia. “I’d rather not cram three people into my truck.”

  “Sure.”

  The older woman eyed Alexia as they walked across the parking lot.

  “You’re a pretty young thing,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  Alexia felt thirteen instead of thirty-two. “Alexia Lindale.”

  “Alicia? That’s a pretty name.” Mrs. Hobart looked at Ted. “It’s a good name for a woman. No one will think you’re a man!”

  Ted rolled his eyes at Alexia.

  “Should you avoid calling me Alexia while we’re with her?” Alexia asked.

  “No. Now that she thinks you’re Alicia that’s all she will hear.”

  Mrs. Hobart sat in the backseat of Alexia’s BMW and stroked the smooth, gray leather. “This is nice vinyl on your seats.”

  “Thank you!” Alexia answered. Turning to Ted, she asked, “Where should we go?”

  “Someplace where the fish is soft and easy to chew,” he answered. “How about Martin’s Fish Camp?”

  “Okay. I haven’t eaten there in ages.”

  The restaurant was famous for fried seafood, but unless the cooking oil was fresh, everything tasted similar.

  “It was good to see you this morning,” Ted said. “You look very nice. The green dress makes your eyes shine.”

  Alexia smiled at the compliment. “Thanks.”

  “Did you enjoy the service?”

  “Yes. Especially the sermon.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “He raised some questions that I need to answer. The idea of dedicating my talents and ability to God is very relevant to me right now. It’s going to take time for me to sort it out.”

  Ted nodded without comment, but it made sense that Alexia would have to deal with issues he’d faced twenty years before. The road of discipleship passes common landmarks.

  Martin’s Fish Camp was a rambling wooden building painted gray to give the boards a weathered look. It featured several open dining rooms. Patrons sat at simple long wooden tables with ladder back chairs. There was a large hole in the middle of each table and a trash can beneath it for debris. The setup was especially suited for oyster roasts. Iced tea was served in giant, clear plastic glasses. A teenage hostess led them to a table in the corner and handed them menus. Mrs. Hobart didn’t open hers.

  Ted leaned toward her better ear. “What do you want to eat?”

  “I don’t need to look at the menu. I want fried fish with hush puppies and slaw.”

  “Do you want flounder?” Ted asked loudly.

  Mrs. Hobart smiled. “Yes, I’m glad you found her!” Then, turning to Alexia, she said, “I’ve been tellin’ him he needed to meet a nice girl. He’s a good man. Very handy around the house. Did you know he fixed the leaks in my roof and stopped the toilet in my downstairs bath from run-nin’ all the time?”

  Alexia looked at Ted. “I’m impressed.”

  Ted ordered the flounder for Mrs. Hobart and scallops for himself. Alexia chose a salad served with broiled seafood on top.

  A waitress brought them tea. Alexia watched Mrs. Hobart deposit an extra bag of sugar in her glass.

  “Does she know it’s already sweetened?” she asked Ted.

  “Yes, but not sweet enough. It’s the secret of her longevity.”

  “How old is she?”

  “I’ve never been able to get a straight answer.” Ted leaned toward Mrs. Hobart. “How old are you?”

  The old woman put down her glass of tea and gave Ted a strange look. “Don’t you know? You’re gettin’ mighty forgetful. I’ll be eighty-four next month. Harry and I were married fifty-four years before he died.”

  Mrs. Hobart was sitting so she could see the main dining room of the restaurant.

  “I enjoy watching the people,” she said. “You two go ahead and talk. If you want to tell me something, tap me on the arm, and I’ll give heed.”

  “Won’t she be offended if we don’t try to talk to her?” Alexia asked.

  “No. She’s been in her own world for so long that she’s used to it. She knows I like being with her. That’s all that matters. Sometimes when I visit her, we will sit and sip tea for fifteen minutes without saying a word.”

  The waitress brought their food, and Ted prayed a blessing. He opened his eyes when he finished and glanced at Mrs. Hobart. She hadn’t heard him say “Amen” and was sitting peacefully with her head bowed and her wrinkled hands folded in front of her. Both Ted and Alexia watched her for several seconds until Ted leaned forward and in a louder voice said, “Amen!” Mrs. Hobart jerked up her head.

  “That sure was a long prayer,” she said. “Let’s eat!”

  Mrs. Hobart took a tiny bite of fish, chewed it for a few seconds, and gave a satisfied sigh. Ted smiled at her and then turned toward Alexia.

  “What’s been happening in your life since Friday night?” he asked.

  Alexia told him about her experience reading the Bible on Saturday morning. “I’ve never been interested in reading it before, not even for cultural reasons. It was surprising to me how much I enjoyed it.”

  “That happens to a lot of people. You’re tuned in to a new station, and after what happened at my house, you have the ability to hear it.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Mrs. Hobart was not a rapid eater. She savored every bite as if it were her first.

  Ted spoke again. “You know, it’s a good thing you left your law firm.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “While we’ve been eating, a Bible verse came to mind that fits the situation. It’s in Ephesians and says, Therefore do not be partners with them.”

  Alexia smiled. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “That’s a statement without context. I mean, it sounds like the punch line for something else.”

  Ted nodded. “You’re right. I should read the surrounding passage.”

  He took a small New Testament from the pocket of his shirt and opened it. Mrs. Hobart saw him.

  “Are you going to stand on your chair and preach?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. “Speak up loud and clear. I couldn’t hear much of the sermon this morning.”

  Ted pointed to Alexia. “I’m preaching to her.”

  Mrs. Hobart reached out and patted Alexia’s hand. “Listen to him. He’s smart, and you can trust him.”

  Alexia answered but looked into Ted’s eyes. “I think you’re right.”

  Ted gave her an appreciative look and then said, “Here is the section that contains the sentence I quoted. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God’s wrath comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be partners with them. For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret.”

  The minister stopped and glanced up. “What do you think?”

  The words described everything that had happened to Alexia personally, the law firm, and the Richardson family during the past few weeks.

  “That’s in the Bible?” she asked.

  Ted handed it to her with his thumb on the place where he’d started reading. “See for yourself.”

  Alexia read the passage again while Ted finished the last few bites of his meal.

  “I want to be a child of the light,” she
said. “And in my work, I’m often trying to uncover what happens in secret so I can help my clients.”

  “I bet you’re good at it, aren’t you?” Ted asked.

  Alexia nodded. “Yes. It’s one of my talents.”

  Ted took a last sip of tea. “Then imagine how good you will become at exposing the deeds of darkness if you dedicate your talent to God.”

  Mrs. Hobart wanted a piece of key lime pie for dessert, so Ted ordered one for her and himself.

  “How about you?” he asked Alexia.

  “No thanks,” she said.

  When the waitress brought the pie, there were two forks on the piece she set in front of Ted. He handed one to Alexia.

  “Eat a bite. It’s your destiny.”

  Alexia cut through the meringue, the filling, and the graham cracker crust. It was sweet with a touch of tartness.

  “Yum,” she said.

  Ted followed after her and ate two quick bites. Before he ate another, Alexia reached across and sliced off a large chunk. She slightly lifted it from the plate and then looked at Ted with a question in her eyes.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to order a piece for you?” he asked.

  “I’d rather share,” she said looking into Ted’s eyes.

  Mrs. Hobart spoke, “Are y’all talking about the stock market? I’ve never been much on stocks. It seemed like gamblin’ for rich folks. ’Course, I’ve never had no extra money anyway.”

  Ted laughed. “How’s your pie, Mrs. Hobart?”

  “Good, but it could be a little sweeter.”

  When they finished their pie, Ted paid for the meal, and they drove from the restaurant to Mrs. Hobart’s house.

  “I’ll be taking a nap today,” she said as Alexia stopped the car. “And dreaming of fish and hush puppies. Thanks for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome!” Ted responded.

  Mrs. Hobart patted Alexia on the arm. “You have a sweet face and happy eyes. Do you have a job?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m a lawyer.”