by Jeri Green
Buster opened the front door and set to cranking. He was making fine progress. The bucket came up from the “cold side” of the well quite handily. There was a minimum of slosh as the bucket rounded the corner to enter the house. Buster was just before closing the front door and taking the bucket into the kitchen, when calamity struck. Buster’s dog, Lulu, saw the open front door. She bolted inside the house, bumping Buster who slipped and fell on the floor.
Everything would have been fine if Buster had let go of the crank. But he didn’t.
The crank gave a wicked pull on the rope and the bucket as Buster went crashing down. The strain on the cold, wet rope was just too much.
Down went Buster. Down went the bucket. Lulu yelped with fright. Buster yelped because he knew Mama would not be pleased. One of Buster’s sisters came running into the sitting room with a big bowl of pancake batter in her hands.
She hit the slick floor and up went the bowl, batter dripping from the ceiling. The bowl soared through the air, just as pretty as you please, and came floating down right on top of Buster’s head.
Buster was coated in goo and wet up to his eyeballs. He heard Mama clamber into the sitting room.
“Well,” Buster said from under the bowl, “I think I’ll pass on seconds on the pancakes.”
Needless to say, Mama had inside plumbing by winter’s end.
“Brinkley called me and told me you were taking me to Doc Emory’s today, Hadley,” Mama said. “I’m glad for the comp’ny. It’s been a coon’s age since I saw you.”
“I been busier than a centipede at a jitter bug contest, Mama,” said Hadley.
Hadley refrained from asking Mama how she was. There was no need. Sooner or later, Mama would get around to filling you in. No one, except Doc Emory, knew exactly where Mama’s goozle, pizzlin’ string, or any other of the numerous descriptive adjectives Mama had for her body parts. Mama was a lady.
So, Hadley was floored when instead of going into a long, drawn-out list of complaints, aches, and pains, and general feelings of malaise and discomfort, Mama said, “You know, honey, with all this evil goings on, I’m ‘a great mind to start lockin’ my doors and winders.”
“Mama,” Hadley said, “there’s nothing to fear around here. Hope Rock County is nothing if not boring. Sandy’s locked up tighter than Dick’s hatband down at the jail.”
“But what if it ain’t Sandy’s hand that needs to be chained?”
“What are you saying, Mama? Do you know something nobody else knows?”
“Well, Hadley Jane,” Mama said, “I watch the news. No place is safe no more. I don’t know what’s got into folks? But I ain’t afraid to say I’m scared.
“I know first they said it was Gunn. Locked him up, too. Tighter ’an Dick’s hatband. Then, just like that, they say it ain’t Gunn. It’s Sandy. Maybe, they’re wrong about that, too. I don’t know.
“One thing I do know, they’s a lot of folks ‘round ‘ese parts that are glad that old stinker is moldering in the ground. He’s caused more trouble and heartache than a little. I don’t know who put Eustian Singlepenny out of his misery, but I for one would like to shake that person’s hand.”
“Mama,” Hadley said, “Eustian was murdered.”
“I know that! Why you think I’ve been on Buster to lock them doors at night when he comes in off his shift?”
“You don’t think either Miller boy did it, then,” said Hadley.
“Honey, I can’t say yea or nay. But if Gunn didn’t, and then they decide Sandy didn’t, then we got us one mighty smart sneak who did.”
“Since you put it that way, I guess if Sandy is let eventually go, like Gunn was, then we do.”
Mama looked pained.
“Honey?”
“What is it, Mama. You all right?” Hadley asked.
“Could you roll your window up?” Mama asked.
“But, Mama, it’s as hot as blue blazes outside,” said Hadley.
“Yeah, it is a might warm outside, but I got this twinge in my toodle. Weather man says it ain’t gonna rain, today. But I prefer to dicker. My toodle’s been tellin’ me them wet clouds is coming. I declare it’s givin’ me fits.
“Didn’t sleep a wink last night. That’s why I’m goin’ to see Doc Emory. Good ole Doc. He’s never too busy to see old Mama. I’ll give ‘em ‘at. I called him up. He said come on over today. He’d fix me right up. He’s such a darlin’ ‘bout giving me just the remedy for whatever ails me. ‘Em pills he prescribes are sumpin’, Hadley. I’da been pushin’ up daisies long ago if it wasn’t for old Doc. Call him a quack if you want to, but for me, there ain’t nobody like that man.
I took me the last of my remedy two days ago. I knew right then I shoulda’ made me a ‘perntment to see Doc. But I was just so busy. Now, my toodle’s outta whack. I asked him if he thought I might need surgery.”
“Toodle surgery?” Hadley asked.
“Don’t worry, honey. Doc told me all I needed was some more of them pills he gives me. You know, Hadley,” Mama said, “Doc Emory and his pills are just the remedy for what ails ya.”
“Umm-hmm,” Hadley said, glad that the good Doc’s office wasn’t that far away.
If it had been, Hadley was sure she would have suffered a heat stroke from driving Mama and her toodles around with the windows rolled up.
Chapter Thirty-One
All was right with the world. Mama got her remedy, and Delta had a truck load of manure. All that was left to do was clean up Brinkley’s truck before depositing it back at his station. Hadley hosed it down. She was careful to remove any trace of the “black gold,” as she like to call the fertilizer. Satisfied that her wash job would pass Brinkley’s inspection, she drove the truck to the station and picked up her car.
“How’s Mama,” he asked, carefully eyeing the bed of the truck.
“Mama’s fine and so is your truck. I see you giving it the once over. I washed it out good, Brinkley. Don’t worry. Not a trace of dung DNA is left in that bed. And many thanks for letting Delta and me use it. Delta said to come on over to the Spoon tomorrow. Lunch is on her.”
Brinkley flushed red.
“Doc gave Mama a two bottles of those sugar pills. Told her he knew the weather was aggravating her candle-mine, not to mention making her daddles ache. Mama took them bottles and gave Doc a smile a mile wide. She was so happy she even let me drive her home with the windows down.”
“Thanks, Hadley,” Brinkley said. “If Mama let you roll the windows down while she rode around, I know she’s happy.”
“Tell me about it. I came pretty close to roasting on the drive over to Doc’s. I think it was at least 10 degrees hotter when we got out of his office. Look, Brinkley, I know you’re busy, but I did want to thank you again for the truck.”
“Well, just for you and Delta. But don’t make a habit of askin’, okay?”
Hadley drove home. She was hot and tired. She went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed the pitcher filled with fresh squeezed lemonade from the shelf. She poured herself a tall, cold glass of yellow sunshine and went into the parlor to the overstuffed chair. She got her cell, punching in numbers while slurping down a chilling gulp of lemonade just as her sister answered on the other end.
“Maury,” Hadley said, “tell me all you know.”
“Hadley, you know Bill. When he’s on a case, he shuts up like a clam.”
“But if he says anything at all,” Hadley said, “it’s to you.”
“Well,” Maury said, “I know he’s arrested Sandy. Set Gunn free.”
“Everybody in Hope Rock County knows that,” Hadley said.
“It has something to do with the chemicals Sandy uses,” Maury said. “You know, cyanide.”
“Umm,” Hadley said. “Bill said that when he came over and got Eustian’s house key from me. Sandy always handled that stuff. Wouldn’t let Gunn near it. I guess they decided Gunn’s threats were just a lot of hot air. But I really don’t think Sandy’s the type of man who
would kill somebody, either. Do you?”
“Eustian was ruining Sandy’s life, Hadley. His business was on the verge of collapse. He owes Maxie, his suppliers, his lawyer. You name ’em. Sandy owes ’em. You push somebody far enough, and you never know what they’ll do.”
“I guess you’re right,” Maury said.
“I think I’ll drive out to Croft’s Orchard,” Hadley said. “Make sure Rayna’s okay. She and Sandy were close.”
“Yeah,” Maury said, “but not as close as they once were. This trouble with Eustian’s thrown a wet blanket on that, I think.”
Hadley left the house and drove west. The hills and valleys of the gently sloping Appalachians were as reassuring and calming, as always. Hadley Pell would never live anywhere else. The small communities that dotted these mountains had been here for ages. Not as long as the rocks and streams, that was true, but long enough to give a sense of stability. Of home.
So many folks their age had talked of moving south to Florida to retire. Let them have the sand in their rugs, the heat, and the dripping humidity. Hadley would take her four seasons rooted here in Hope Rock County. There was something about this place. It was made for her.
Besides, Harry was sleeping in Sheffield’s finest, just like Beanie said, and one day she’d be laid to rest beside him in Memorial Gardens.
Oh, Harry, Hadley thought.
She reminded herself to order a tree next spring. Never one to waste money on flowers for a headstone, Hadley decided to plant a tree in Harry’s memory. Something tall and strong, with colorful leaves in the fall. Or maybe a fruit tree, big and gnarly and a hardy producer of wonderful deliciousness.
She’d have to look trees up in one of Ruth’s books at the library, she decided, as she turned down the road that led to Croft’s Orchards.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I heard about Sandy, Rayna,” Hadley said. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Thanks, Hadley,” Rayna said. “Come in. I’ll fix us some coffee. Richie’s out on a date with Florene. It’s just me and the dog, tonight. I can fix you a sandwich or something, if you like.”
“No thanks, Rayna,” Hadley said. “I don’t want anything. Lost my appetite.”
“Me, too,” Rayna said. “I told Sandy to leave Eustian alone. I tried to warn him, but you know Sandy. He’s always thought there was some shred of good in everybody. He’s an honest man, Hadley. You know that.”
“I know,” Hadley said. “That’s why I just can’t understand all this.”
“Nobody knows what lengths a man will go to, if he’s painted into a corner,” Rayna said.
“I said as much to Maury,” Hadley said.
“I thought I knew Sandy,” Rayna said, “really well, you know, but since all this mess with the lawsuit, I don’t know. I just don’t know. Sandy’s like a stranger. So distant.”
“He’s had a lot on his mind,” Hadley said.
“I know,” Rayna said. “And that’s what bothers me. Instead of talking about his troubles, it’s like he’s locked all his thoughts inside himself. He wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t talk to Gunn.
“I thought he might ask to move in with me, Hadley. I don’t mean marriage. My situation won’t allow that. But I’d dreamed of us living together and making a good life, you know. But I don’t hold that hope, anymore. In some ways, it feels like Teddy all over again.”
“Teddy and Sandy are two different kettles of fish, Rayna,” Hadley said.
“You don’t think Sandy did it, do you, Hadley?”
“Sandy’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Hadley said.
“I know,” said Rayna, “but you know how men are. And Sandy’s changed so much, lately.”
“I sure do,” Hadley said. “They think they have to be the rock. That women are somehow not as strong. That when things turn sour, a woman just won’t understand. Hogwash, I say. I’ve seen plenty of women go through hard times that would break a man, but somehow, those women stand tall. You been through rough seas, Rayna, and you managed to navigate through them pretty well. Look at Richie. He’s turning into a fine young man.”
“I am blessed,” Rayna said. “Richie is a wonderful son. I think he’s almost ready to pop the question to Florene.”
“Florene’s a good girl. She and Richie will make a good team. Give you some fine grandchildren, Rayna.”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“Here, Rayna,” Hadley said, getting up and going into the kitchen, “let me make you some coffee. The grinder’s in this cabinet, isn’t it?”
“Hadley!” Rayna screamed.
Hadley went running from the kitchen back to the living room where Rayna sat on the couch.
“What’s the matter!” Hadley exclaimed.
“What if Teddy’s come back!” Rayna said. “Dear me! I just don’t know. My head in spinning. What am I going to do?”
“Calm down,” said Hadley.
“What if . . . oh, I don’t know. I just had the most horrible thought. I’m sorry. You must think me as crazy as a loon. But what if Teddy has come back! Oh, Hadley! Do you think Richie and I are safe?”
“You and Richie are perfectly safe,” Hadley said. “Stop this train of thought. You’ll make yourself sick. Rayna, I think you are exhausted from working these orchards seven days a week. I think you’re worried sick about Sandy. Quite frankly, I’d be worn to a frazzle if I had everything on my plate that you have. And on top of that, you are helping me with the bazaar. You’re just worn out.”
“You’re right,” Rayna said. “Hadley, would you mind? Richie’s not home. I don’t have to worry about fixing his supper. I’d really just like to take a nice, hot bath and go to bed early.”
Hadley rose to leave.
“Of course not, Rayna,” Hadley said. “I think that’s just what you should do. Get some rest. And don’t worry about the bazaar. We’ve got most of the major details figured out. I can hog tie Maury and make her help me with the rest. She won’t mind.”
“But Hadley,” Rayna said, “I don’t want you to think I’d leave you in the lurch in the middle of all that.”
“Nonsense,” Hadley said. “You have to look out for yourself. Concentrate on getting all this fruit harvested.”
“We are having a good yield this year,” Rayna says.
“Yes. That means good money, but it also means a heck of a lot of work. Now, you get that bath and get to bed. I’ll call you later in the week to check on you. Okay? And later, after things settle down, maybe you can give me some advice.”
“Advice about what, Hadley?”
“You have all kinds of fruit trees,” Hadley said.
“Yes. Why?” Rayna asked.
“I want to plant some trees in Harry’s honor. I had thought of planting one tree, but the more I mull over the idea, I think a small orchard would be wonderful. Nothing on the scale you have here, just three or four fruit trees. I may need your expertise on picking the best variety and the best location for planting them at the house.”
“Of course,” Rayna said. “I’ll be glad to help you. I think Harry would have loved your idea.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“Good-night,” Rayna said.
“Night.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Onus,” Hadley said, “What am I going to do? I’m in the middle of baking, and I’ve run out of butter! I can’t believe my luck! Why didn’t you remind me to stop at Pixies and pick up more?”
Onus looked at Hadley, blinked twice, and walked out of the room.
“Um,” Hadley said, “must’ve offended the old thing. Sorry, old bird! But I really am furious with myself. And why am I talking to myself? I’ll tell you why! Hadley, old girl, the cat has scat. Left you alone, you old son of a gun. So now, all that’s left is an audience of one! Heh. Heh. And a mighty fine audience it is, even if I say so myself.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Anna, wh
at a pleasant surprise,” Hadley said.
“I was on my way home, and I thought I’d remind you those books are due back at the library tomorrow.”
“Scads ‘a scallions!” Hadley said. “That totally slipped my mind. I’m finished with most of them, but there were one or two I wanted to renew. Keep for awhile. I really am learning a lot.”
“Well,” Anna said, “it is easy to forget until you get in the habit of returning them. If you come in often enough, returning them becomes a part of your routine. You know, like putting the dishes up after they’ve dried in the drainer. You look flustered, Hadley. What is it?”
“Anna,” Hadley said, “Are you awfully busy? I need a big favor?”
“No,” Anna said, “as a matter of fact, Stanley’s not home. A meeting at the lodge. I’m flying solo. Do you want to go flying again?”
“No. I’ll take a rain check on that.”
“Sure,” Anna said.
“I need some butter from Pixie-Squares,” Hadley said. “I’m baking these goodies for the bazaar in shifts. One day, it’s pound cakes. The next doughnuts. The next cookies. I’ll freeze them and bring them out the day of the sale. I’m in the middle of mixing a pound cake. I hope to get a few more done, and wouldn’t you know it, I’ve run totally out of butter!”
“I’ll be glad to run over there for you. Do you need any more eggs?” Anna asked.
“Maybe a dozen. Couldn’t hurt,” Hadley said.
“Anything else?”
“No, I think that’s it.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Anna said.
“Great. I’ll throw this baby in the oven and get started on another one. When I’m finished, we’ll sit down and eat cake when you get back. The first one I baked looks like the Frisco earthquake hit it. I’m thinking of plastering it on a poster for pathetic cakes!”
“You’re the best cook in the county, Hadley. It may look pitiful, but I’m positive it will taste scrumptious. Back in a jiff,” Anna said.
The cake was no prize winner, but it really did taste delicious. Hadley and Anna were each enjoying a huge slice along with large mugs of steaming, hot coffee.