Halfway through our meal, a man walks up to our table and says, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you Abel? Nelly and Bud’s son?”
I’m sitting down in a booth and so I am already at a disadvantage. I also have a 16-year-old boy with me. I lay the paper napkin down on the table and stand. “I am.”
He extends his hand. This is not a gesture I was expecting. “I’m Kevin Dickerson. I think you know my son, Ethan.” I know of only one Ethan, so I’m assuming this man is Savannah Mae’s ex-father-in-law. “I heard you bought the old Rose Farm school and the property behind it?”
I shake his hand and notice the callouses on them. He has a strong handshake, as do most country men. “That’s right, I did.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do with it?”
“I haven’t exactly decided yet. We just started clearing out the building a few days ago.”
He nods and he stands a little taller. “My son and I make good-quality furniture and work’s been pretty slow. I was wonderin’ if you could use a couple more workers.”
He’s looking for work for himself and for his son, Ethan. I’m not sure Ethan would be interested in working for me, and I’m not sure I want to work with Ethan either.
“We’d be willin’ to do whatever needs to be done.”
This is a desperate man, and I know it’s not easy for him to come to me looking for work.
“Kevin, we start work every morning at 8:00. If you want to start in the morning, we’d be glad to have you.”
“We’ll be there.” He reaches for my hand again. “Thank you, Abel.”
I think about what kind of work I have for them to do. “Do you happen to have a chainsaw?” I ask.
“I have two.”
“Would you mind bringing those? Maybe we can start clearing the wooded area in the back.”
“No, I don’t mind. Whatever you need. Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome, we’ll see you in the morning.”
He leaves, and Johnny and I finish our meal. I have to agree with Johnny. The baked steak and mashed potatoes were delicious. The apple cobbler wasn’t bad either.
Savannah Mae
When Sawyer Jackson wakes and asks for a drink, I’m thrilled. It’s the first sign of improvement I’ve seen in three days. I offer him small sips and he eagerly takes them.
“Are you feelin’ better, Buddy?” Ethan asks.
He asks in a hoarse whisper, “Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital. How do you feel?” I ask, settin’ the cup down.
“Tired,” he says, closin’ his eyes.
Ethan hasn’t left the hospital since he got here last night. His phone kept buzzin’ but is silent now; he either shut it off or the battery died. I think about what he said about Heather Sue not bein’ pregnant and about her not relayin’ the message to Ethan about Sawyer Jackson. It doesn’t make any sense. I try to not think about Abel Lee or the photo that’s tucked away in my pocket. I still can’t believe that he is capable of doin’ that.
Over the next few hours, the doctor comes in and examins Sawyer Jackson. He wakes up for the exams and is startin’ to drink more and eat soft foods. Ethan puts the cartoons on the television when the doctors leave. Sawyer Jackson sits on his dad’s lap and they both watch SpongeBob together. I walk over to the window and look at my cell phone. I soon realize that I still have Abel Lee’s phone and he still has mine.
Ethan says, “You still seein’ the fighter?”
“Who?” Who is he talkin’ about?
“Bud and Nelly’s boy? You still seein’ the boxer?”
That is none of his business. “Yes,” I say. It’s not a complete lie. I saw ‘im yesterday. He doesn’t need to know that it’s over between us.
“He’s quite the fighter. I watched one of his old fights on television the other day and recorded it.”
I shudder. I remember the picture of the person on life support. I don’t say anything. Abel Lee’s phone vibrates, so I pretend to be textin’ someone. I don’t want to talk about Abel Lee, or his fightin’ habits. He has a few text messages and some missed calls on his phone. I don’t look at the missed calls or the text messages. I shut the phone off and place it back into my purse.
There is a tap at the door and Heather Sue quietly walks in. My head gets hot and I can feel the blood pumpin’ into my veins. Before I can say anything, she whispers, “Ethan, can I talk to you?”
I whip my head up and ask, “What do you want, you, you liar?” Liar? Is that the best I could do? Let her have it, Savannah Mae, I tell myself. I know you can come up with something more colorful than liar.
“Heather Sue, I don’t got nothin’ to say to you,” Ethan says, sadly.
“Ethan, don’t be like that. Please, let me explain.”
Ethan stands and places Sawyer Jackson in the too-large hospital bed. I have plenty to say, but decide to save it for another time — a better time. I take my permanent seat in the chair next to Sawyer Jackson.
“I don’t think you can explain,” Ethan says.
I don’t look up; this is between them. I focus on my sleepin’ son.
“I can. Please talk to me,” she says, still standin’ in the doorway.
I silently pray that if they do talk, he doesn’t talk here in front of me. I don’t want to hear anymore of her lies, and I don’t want my son to wake up to them arguin’ or talkin’, or makin’ up.
Ethan is a good guy; he deserves to be with a good woman, not a homewrecker. Holy hell, what do I know? He had a good woman, me. He’s the one who ruined our marriage. Maybe he does deserve her. I watch Sawyer Jackson and I hear whisperin’. Soon after, the door closes and Ethan and Heather Sue are gone.
Sawyer Jackson stays asleep and I doze off next to him. Still sittin’ on the chair with my head restin’ on the bed beside his small torso, I dream of Sawyer Jackson, Abel Lee, and some beat-up person. I also dream of Ethan, Heather Sue, and zombies tryin’ to find Heather Sue’s brain so they can eat it, but comin’ up with an empty brainpan and starvin’ to a second death. I wake up cryin’ and breathless. I feel a warm hand on my arm and it’s Ethan. For a moment, I was hopin’ it was Abel Lee, until the events of the last couple days come floodin’ back.
Ethan tells me, “I’m leavin’, I’ll be back in the mornin’.”
I look at Ethan and swallow. My mouth feels like cotton. I look past Ethan, expectin’ to see Heather Sue, but she isn’t standin’ in the doorway. “Okay,” I whisper.
“Do you need anything when I come back?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay, I’ll be back before the sun comes up.”
He leaves and I rest my head beside Sawyer Jackson’s. I kiss him and cuddle as close as I can beside him. He seems so small and frail. He doesn’t smell like my four-year-old son. He smells of sterile hospital rooms. I drift off to sleep and dream of dark-haired cowboys, large black stallions named Colonel, and New Year’s Eve kisses. I dream of holdin’ hands, tender touches, and a dimpled smile. I dream of Abel Lee.
Abel Lee
At night, I lie awake and think of Savannah Mae. She’s better off without me. I have nothing to offer her or Sawyer Jackson. I still live at home with my parents, and I still don’t know for sure who sent the picture or the notes. I’ve reached out to a few people and asked questions, but I didn’t get the answers I was looking for. Someone was in Rose Farm stalking me and Savannah Mae, and Megan Rose’s killer is still at large. I have no idea if the person who sent the picture is still here or not. I have to wonder if Savannah Mae’s in danger.
The next morning when I reach for my cell phone, I realize I still have Savannah Mae’s phone. I take it to work with me in hopes of maybe getting a chance to see her. If I do, now I have an excuse to talk to her. She may be better off without me, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with her.
Pops and I have breakfast and head to the old school to begin our day. Everyone from yesterday is there; even Kev
in shows up for work. He gets out of his truck and walks over to join us.
“Mornin’,” he says, smiling.
The first thing I notice is Ethan isn’t with him. “Good morning.” I look behind him and I don’t see any other vehicles on the street.
“My son Ethan’s still at the hospital with his son, Sawyer Jackson….”
I interrupt, “Kevin, it’s all right. His son needs him, work can wait.” I look at him and I think I can see him starting to relax. He doesn’t need to say anything else. Ethan’s right where he should be, and he’s right where I wish I could be.
“Thank you. As soon as Sawyer Jackson gets out of the hospital, Ethan will be ready to work.”
I nod. “Good. Help yourself to some coffee. Did you bring the chainsaws?”
“Sure did. They’re in the back of the pickup.”
“Great.” I walk away and walk into the empty building. It’s looking better. Today we have the guys coming to power wash the building. I thought instead of giving everyone the day off, we could all start clearing the overgrown field.
The guys come and start power washing inside and outside of the building. We watch briefly, and I’m glad to see the graffiti is coming off of the red brick. We walk to the field and some of the guys start cutting down the dead trees — they have instructions to leave the live trees alone. We have several chainsaws going, and some of the other guys are loading up the wood into the wheelbarrows and hauling them to and then unloading them neatly beside Savannah Mae’s shed.
“She’s gonna have enough firewood to last the entire next winter,” Pops says.
“It’ll give her one less thing to worry about.” I walk away before he has time to say anything else. I don’t want him asking about her, or asking questions that I can’t answer or don’t want to answer.
At the end of the day, Johnny rushes over right after school. He starts clearing the debris and the firewood. Pops and I get a game plan together about the wiring and the plumbing in the building. I call and order new doors and windows, and Pops and I decide that on Monday, he’ll start with the electrical wiring. It’ll take a few days for everything to dry out from being power washed.
I give everyone some W-4 forms for their taxes and instruct them to fill them out and return them in the morning. I see some guys smile and I know it’s because now this seems like a steady job. To be paid under the table feels like the job could end at anytime. But to have a paycheck feels more stable. I hope I can continue to employ everyone. I still need to come up with a business that suits the community’s need and theirs.
“Johnny, whatcha doin’ for dinner tonight?” Pops asks.
“Momma’s workin’ the night shift this week.”
“How ‘bout you eat with us tonight?”
“Nelly’s cookin?” Johnny asks with a huge grin.
Pops laughs, “I sure hope so.”
I also laugh. I’ve never known Pops to cook a meal or a snack for that matter. “If she didn’t cook, we’ll go back to Peaches for dinner.” I wouldn’t be disappointed to have the baked steak and mashed potatoes again, even if it is two days in a row. “You got homework tonight?”
“Done did it,” he says, smiling.
I know he’s telling the truth.
When we arrive on the farm, we’re not surprised that Momma cooked. She welcomes Johnny warmly, as I knew she would. There was no need to call Momma to tell her someone was joining us for dinner. Momma always cooks enough; whatever is leftover today becomes lunch for tomorrow. Oddly, as much as Momma cooks; there’s very seldom leftovers.
We eat dinner and talk about Johnny and his lessons at school. I’m surprised to learn Johnny has a GPA of 3.8. I learn he likes school and his strong subject is math. He also likes engineering and woodcarving. He says, “I like workin’ with my hands like my daddy.”
Of course Johnny has a daddy, I just never saw him. I’m not sure I should ask about him or not. “Your daddy was a fine man, Johnny,” Pop says.
“Thank you, Sir. I sure did learn a lot from him.”
I just listen, I don’t interrupt. I know that you can learn a lot when you keep your mouth shut.
“How’s your Momma doin’ these days? Don’t get a chance to chat with her much after church,” Momma says.
“She’s sad. Works a lot to try to pay the bills. I hear her cryin’ at night when she’s in bed. It makes me sad.”
I wait for someone to mention what happened to Johnny’s dad, but no one does. I don’t ask. I know enough.
“Well, Johnny, if you ever need me, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you. I’m countin’ on the money from work to help my Momma out. It’s been only a few days, and the money’s already a big help. I sure do appreciate the work.”
I’m not sure what to say. “You’re a hard worker, Johnny. I’m glad to have you as part of the team.”
The rest of the meal we talk about Mia and Levi, and we also talk about the old schoolhouse.
“I called Savannah Mae’s mother today. She said Sawyer Jackson may get to come home tomorrow,” Momma says.
Where did that come from? “Good, do they know what was wrong with him?” I ask.
“You haven’t spoken to her?”
I look at Momma, who already knows the answer. “No, been busy working.”
“He has bacterial meningitis.”
I’m glad the spinal tap gave them the diagnosis they needed. “I’m glad to hear he’s getting better.”
“You plannin’ on goin’ over there tomorrow to see them?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. “She might want some alone time, you know, to get Sawyer Jackson settled and all.”
“Abel, you got something you need to say?”
She knows. “No, ma’am.”
After dinner I dress in my running gear and walk Johnny home. Momma sent eggs and some walnuts with him. She also sent some leftovers with him, too. We walk down the steep driveway and I finally ask, “When did your Daddy pass away?”
He’s silent for a minute. “Last summer.”
I didn’t realize it was so recent. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me, too. He was comin’ home from work and a drunk driver hit ‘im.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence. I wait for Johnny to fish the house key out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Sure will. Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” I watch as Johnny opens the screen door when I notice a few pieces of wood tucked beneath a wooden chair on the porch. “You whittle, Johnny?”
He looks back at me and follows my eyes to the stack of wood. “I mess around with it sometimes. My daddy whittled all of the time.”
He opens the unlocked door and turns on the light inside the house. I see something on the seat of the chair and walk up the porch steps to get a closer look. Johnny stops and watches me. I pick up a piece of wood that he’s been carving with. “You carved this?”
“It’s not done, but yeah, I’m playin’ around with it.”
“This is good.” I carefully inspect the unfinished carved horse. It’s not nearly completed, but the detail in the horse is amazing. “This is really good.”
“It’s okay.”
I get an idea and I ask, “Do you have anything that is already finished?”
“Yeah, I have a whole collection. Momma keeps them all.”
“May I see them?”
“Sure.”
He opens the door and invites me in. His house is similar to Savannah Mae’s. It’s small, clean, and simple. I follow him to a small curio cabinet in the corner of the room. The inside is filled not with antiques, or depression ware; instead, it’s filled with hand-carved animals, people, and mammals.
“My daddy’s are on the top two shelves, and mine are on the bottom shelf.”
I scan the top two shelves and then kneel down to see Johnny’s work that is displayed on the bottom shelf. He opens the cabinet door and
hands me a wooden horse. “This is the last thing I made. It’s not perfect, but it’s probably my best one. Momma says it’s her favorite.” He thinks for a minute and says, “Momma always says everyone is her favorite.”
I carefully look at it. It’s perfect. The details are perfect. “This is good, Johnny.” I hand him the wooden figure and say, “You have real talent.”
He takes it from me, and places it back into the glass curio cabinet. “This is one that my daddy did. He had the real talent. I tried to copy his work, but I didn’t do very good.”
I peek into the cabinet and look at what Johnny is pointing at. I’m pretty sure he has strict instructions to not touch his father’s work. I can see where Johnny gets his talent from.
“Have you ever tried to sell your work, Johnny?”
“I thought about tryin’ to, but you gotta have money to make money.” He carefully closes the door to the curio cabinet. “Hard to sell at the flea market, if you can’t afford to rent a booth, or a table.”
I think about what he said, “Gotta have money to make money.” Isn’t that the truth?
“I was thinking about going to the flea market this weekend. How about I rent the table, and you pay me back at the end of the day after you sell your figurines.”
“What if I can’t sell anything?”
“Then we won’t rent a table the following week.” It’ll be a lesson learned for both of us. But, I don’t see this happening.
“You think these will sell?”
“Yeah, Johnny, I think they’ll all sell.”
Savannah Mae
As promised, Ethan came back to the hospital in the mornin’ before Sawyer Jackson woke up. I didn’t ask what happened with Heather Sue, it’s none of my business. He looks sad or tired, or maybe a combination of the two. He looks like how I feel.
The doctor said as soon as Sawyer Jackson can hold solid foods down, he can be released from the hospital. When his lunch tray comes, I’m thankful to see Sawyer Jackson’s appetite has returned. I pray that he can eat, and hold his meal down.
It’s just gettin’ dark when we get the discharge papers from the nurses. My car is still at Ethan’s apartment because I rode to the hospital with Abel Lee, so Ethan offers to drive us home. I sit in the backseat with our son. I haven’t been home in a few days, so I called Mom and Daddy and asked them to pick us up some groceries. I hope they had time to do that. I hate relyin’ on other people to do things for me.
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