by Joy Redmond
“I think I’ll have a look,” he said with a grin. “Come on with me. We might find some interesting stuff.” He took her hand and gently led her toward what used to be forbidden chambers.
When Lance entered Ruby Hampton’s bedroom, he felt a rush. Once again he was doing the forbidden. “Ole Ruby would shit a brick if she knew I was in here.”
“I wish you wouldn’t—” Bonnie swallowed her words as Lance shot her a mean look. Lance tried to open the middle drawer of the desk but it was locked. “Hmm. Where would she put the key?”
“I’ve got no idea. I don’t think it’s right to go snooping in her personal place. She locked it for a reason. I don’t wanna know what’s in there. It ain’t none of our business.”
“Fine!” Lance said, and left the room.
Bonnie Sue was still standing in the middle of the floor as if she didn’t know if she was supposed to walk out before Lance told her to, when Lance returned with a paring knife.
“Who needs a key? I’ll have it open in no time. If you don’t want to snoop, then stand back and stay outta my way.”
It took a bit of prying, but finally, Lance managed to unlock the drawer. He picked up a stack of letters and thumbed through them. “Shit fire fuzzy. These are addressed to Willadeen Hampton, but they were never mailed. How much sense does that make?” he asked, casting them aside.
“I think that’s Miss Hampton’s cousin. She used to mention her and her Aunt Maybelle and Uncle Vernon. I think she said that Vernon was Father’s brother. I never knew Father’s name and Miss Hampton never said it. She talked a lot about them the last month before she had the stroke. She told me a lot about—”
“Shut it, Bonnie! I’m concentrating here,” he said, as he shuffled through a stack of pictures, recognizing some of the children. “I’ll be damned. Here I am holding Teddy. I remember getting him for Christmas when the ladies at church used to give us presents.” He gasped as he picked up the next picture. The young, pretty face looked familiar. He turned the picture over and read, “Lisa Kay Longtree.” The name meant nothing, but the face tugged at his heart. What the hell is wrong with me?
Bonnie Sue looked over his shoulder. “I think she was the girl who breast fed ya when you was a baby. Miss Hampton said Lisa’s baby was born dead about three days before you was brought here. She died from pneumonia when you was a few months old. I think that’s what Miss Hampton told me. She shared a lot after all the other children left and it was just me and her here.”
Lance couldn’t bear to hear about this beautiful, young girl dying. He held the picture and gazed into the kind, loving eyes. Those eyes are trying to tell me something, he thought, and he held the picture tighter.
“Miss Hampton said she had beautiful red hair. If you look real close, you can see the freckles on her cheeks and across her nose. I think I can see them.” Bonnie Sue reached for the picture.
Lance snatched his hand back like a child guarding his candy. Then he tucked the picture into his shirt pocket. He felt a stirring inside. A strange feeling he had never felt before.
“Lance, I really don’t think—”
“That’s good. Not thinking is what you should do more often. So kiss my nosey ass,” he said, as he opened another drawer. “Well, nothing in here but some old papers.”
He stomped from the room, hurried outside and sat on the top step, pulled the picture from his shirt pocket and stared at the beautiful face. He closed his eyes and he could see her long red hair, blue-green eyes, and he could see a tiny sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks. There is no way I can remember her, but I do. This is the face I’ve seen many times in my dreams. He tenderly rubbed his index finger across the freckles on her pretty face. I suckled from your breasts. You loved me. I feel the love. His hands trembled. I’ve never felt love in my life, but the warm, soothing glow that’s flowing through me has to be what’s called love. And I don’t like the feeling. I like feeling numb.
He heard Bonnie Sue open the door and he quickly slipped the picture back into his shirt pocket.
Bonnie Sue walked outside and sat beside him. “I picked up one of the papers in the last drawer you opened. I found a handwritten page that says Hampton House is yours upon Miss Hampton’s death.”
He snatched the paper and a sneer spread across his lips. Hampton House is worth a fortune. I’ve hit the jackpot. His heart quickened as he scanned the page. Then his face reddened in anger. “It’s not signed. It isn’t worth a damn without a signature! Damn her old hide. I hope she’s dying a slow, painful death this very minute.” He pressed the paper into his palms and wadded it into a ball. “Bring me a glass of water,” he ordered.
Bonnie Sue scampered inside.
Lance held a smug look as he straightened the paper, folded it neatly, and tucked it into his other shirt pocket. Hampton House is mine. I’ll see to that.
Bonnie Sue returned with the water and sat beside him, her elbows propped on her knees, her eyes looking into space. “You know, I’m sure Miss Hampton would sign the paper if you go see her. It’s in her handwriting. It should be legal and binding. She can still use her right hand. Only her left hand is paralyzed. She’s in Rest Haven Nursing Home. She’s in a private room; the last one on the left as you come through the back door. I’ll go with ya. I ain’t been in a few days and I know she’s wondering why and probably worried. She worries about me. Always did for some reason.”
“Go see her? I’d rather eat shit and die. I never want to see that bitch again as long as I live. She let Lisa die. Lisa was my real mother.”
“Bonnie Sue patted his arm. “I’m sorry Lisa died. I’m sorry you didn’t get to know her better.” Bonnie Sue stared into space for a few minutes. “You know, I always wanted to start a foster home here at Hampton House. I always said if I just had the money to buy this place, I would take in foster kids.”
“Will you shut up?” Lance bellowed. He hopped down the steps. He paced the front yard. He sat on the bumper of the car and stared into space, rage building. He yelled in Bonnie Sue’s direction. “I’m bored stiff. I’m gonna drive over to Charlotte. I need a little action.”
“Can I go with ya?’
“Nope. I want to be alone. I’ll see ya later.” Lance got into the car and sped up the lane. When he reached the main highway, he drove as fast as he dared. He couldn’t take a chance on getting pulled over. When he reached the city limit, he stopped by a liquor store and bought a fifth. As he exited the parking lot, he unscrewed the top and began to swig. The whiskey calmed his nerves and helped the headache, somewhat.
A few more blocks and he spied the large building. A white sign hung from the entrance. Rest Haven Nursing Home. He took another large swig and drove around to the back parking lot. No cars. Nobody wants to come visit the old pissers and shitters.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lance got out of the car and walked to the back door and peered through the window. Nobody in sight. Good. Not even the staff wants to be bothered with the old farts.
He quietly opened the door, stepped inside, and quickly made his way to the last room on the left. The door was ajar. He peered around the facing. No staff members in the room.
Lance quietly made his way through the doorway and closed the door. He eased his way to the bedside. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he gazed upon the frail, pale, Ruby Hampton, her face drooping, her mouth lopsided, her eyes closed. She barely resembled the hardy, robust, steely-eyed woman she had once been.
“Miss Hampton,” he whispered. Ruby didn’t stir. “Miss Hampton,” he whispered louder and touched her arm.
Ruby jumped. Her eyes bugged. She gave her best effort to smile with her lopsided mouth. She reached with her right hand, opening and shutting it as if she was trying to grab him, hold him, and pull him to her body. Her arm fell to her side. She grunted, over and over.
Lance felt as if he had been jolted with an electric prod in the middle of his chest. “Don’t try to talk, Miss Hampton. I just wanted to co
me see ya and make sure this place is taking good care of ya,” he said in his most charming voice. “I stayed away all this time because I was in the Army. I was in Vietnam for a long time, and well, as soon as my hitch was up, I knew I had to come home and see ya.”
Ruby patted the side of her bed and grunted, drool dripping from the left corner of her crooked mouth.
“You want me to sit beside ya? Okay,” he said, lowering his body onto the bed. He picked up her hand. This is the hand that soothed and rubbed clove ointment on my back. He stretched his long legs forward. He bumped something with his toe. He looked down. It was a picnic basket. Miss Hampton’s Bible was in it. A ballpoint pen was beside it. Is this the basket Kitty Mae put me in when she took me to Hampton House? Why did Miss Hampton keep it all these years? He wiped his hand over his face.
“Er—Miss Hampton, I went into your bedroom looking for something of yours I could keep and cling to when I missed you.” He smiled and scooted closer.
Ruby looked at Lance strangely, and Lance thought her eyes were asking. When you miss me? You actually miss me?
Lance cleared his throat. “I found this paper,” he said, pulling the page from his breast pocket. “It looks like a will you wrote, leaving Hampton House to me, but you didn’t sign it.”
Ruby grunted loudly and her eyes shifted rapidly.
“Now, don’t get yourself upset,” he said, patting her hand.
Ruby took a deep breath and seemed to relax.
Lance felt it was safe to continue. “I can hold the paper for you.” He bent and picked up the Bible and the pen. He placed the paper on the Bible, and held up the ballpoint. “I can hold it still for you, and you just take your time and sign it,” he said, smiling.
Ruby took the ballpoint. She scribbled, Bonnie Sue.
Lance turned the paper and read the name. “Bonnie Sue? Of course ya want to know about her. She’s fine. She plans to come see you later today.” He tweaked Ruby’s cheek. “I think she’s still sweet on me.”
Ruby jabbed the ballpoint into the middle of the paper, making a hole, and then she raked the pen up and down until the paper ripped down the middle.
Lance’s eyes widened. “Why, you mean, spiteful bitch!” he said through clenched teeth.
Ruby gathered saliva, twisted her lopsided mouth and spit with great force, striking him between the eyes.
“Goddamn you!” he said, his own spittle flying.
Ruby held a defiant stare with her good eye, and the drooping left eye opened wider.
Before Lance realized what he was about to do, he had his powerful hands around her throat. He quickly turned loose. I can’t leave marks or bruises. He snatched the pillow from under her head. He held it a few inches above her face for a minute, letting ole Ruby see his sneer, the one that used to earn him a slap upside his head. She needed to see it one last time.
Ruby’s eyes seemed to be daring him.
“Now who’s boss?” He pushed the pillow into her face, bearing with all his strength.
Ruby flopped like a fish on dry land. Her right hand grabbed his shirt and she twisted until a button popped off and dropped into the picnic basket.
He was surprised by the strength Ruby still possessed. He pushed harder, his hands trembling, his guts twisting as hard as the grip on his shirt.
Ruby’s hand fell to her side.
He continued to hold the pillow over her face for another minute. Then he slowly raised it. Ruby’s eyes were open, pupils dilated and fixed. Her chest wasn’t moving. Lance felt for a pulse in her neck. Nothing. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “See you in hell, Ruby. I told you that, years ago.” He raised his body erect, stared at the lifeless form and waited for the euphoria. Euphoria eluded him.
He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. You made me do it. You dared me. I won this time. Remember the battle of wills? You taught me well. I did you a favor. I put you out of your misery. I know you. You wouldn’t want to live in a world that you couldn’t control.
He continued to stare into the blank eyes, expecting them to blink, expecting her to resurrect and spit in his face.
He placed the pillow under her head. He slowly placed the Bible into the picnic basket and placed the ballpoint beside it. He noticed the button that had flipped off his shirt. He picked it up and stuck it in his pocket. Can’t leave any clues behind.
He stuffed the ripped paper back into his pocket. He stood, took a few deep breaths and gazed upon Ruby’s face. He reached over and gently closed her eyes. “Rest in peace,” he whispered.
He opened the bedside table drawer and took out a brush and comb. He brushed, combed, smoothed and arranged her hair. He placed the comb and brush into the drawer, and quietly closed it. He patted her arm. This is the arm you used to pull me to your bosom after a strapping. I did it for your own good. That’s what you used to tell me.
He crept across the floor. He stood a few minutes and drew in a deep breath. He opened the door, looked up the hallway, and stepped out, leaving the door ajar. He hurried up the hallway and out the back door.
He stepped lively as he headed for the car. He slid under the steering wheel, wiped his brow, turned the key, pulled into reverse and eased the car from the parking lot. Nobody in sight. He headed down the street, turned up the whiskey bottle and sucked hard at the amber liquid.
***
Two days before Lance arrived in Mount Hill, Ruby’s lawyer had come to Rest Haven. Ruby used an ABC board and spelled out her last will and testament. She signed the will and her signature was witnessed and signed by two nurses. Ruby Hampton left all she owned to Bonnie Sue Humphries: Hampton House, all household contents, one hundred acres surrounding the house, a fifty acre farm in Virginia, twenty-three thousand dollars in savings, and U.S. Savings Bonds worth fifty-thousand dollars, counting the interest. Bonnie Sue was to inherit all when she turned eighteen, one week and three days from the day the will was signed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lance drove up the lane toward Hampton House. Bonnie is the only person who knows I’m in this part of the country. Bonnie Sue has to die. His jaw muscles flexed.
He parked in front of the house and stepped from the car.
Bonnie Sue came running out of the house, wailing like a banshee.
Lance walked toward her. What’s wrong with the addle-brain now? He stood in front of her and yelled, “Hey, stop bawling. I decided not to go to Charlotte. I’m going to spend some time with you.”
She raised her head. Her face was tear-streaked and her eyes were red and swollen and she could barely talk as she managed to get out a few words. “I just got a phone call from Rest Haven.”
Lance’s heart skipped two beats. So soon?
“A nurse called and said Miss Hampton is dead.”
“Dead?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
“Yeah, she said Miss Hampton died peacefully in her sleep. Miss Hampton wanted to be cremated, and she didn’t want no memorial service or nothing, so they said if I wanted to see her before she leaves the home, I needed to come on.”
Lance sighed deeply. He led her to the front porch. She dropped her body down on the top step. Lance sat beside her, pulled her head onto his shoulder and kissed her on top of her head. “There, there, don’t take on so. Miss Hampton is better off. She was miserable. You go get yourself freshened up and we’ll go pay our last respects.” He kissed her again.
“I’ll go take a bath, then I’ll put on a little makeup and apply a tad of Taboo perfume. Miss Hampton gave it to me last Christmas. And I’ll wear my new blue and white checkered dress I made just last week. I wanna look nice so Miss Hampton will be proud of me.”
“That sounds perfect, sweetie.” He tenderly patted her behind. “I’ll go change clothes and we’ll be on our way.”
Lance held her hand and led her inside. “Now get on to the bathroom. I’ll head upstairs.”
“Okay,” Bonnie Sue said, wiping her eyes. “I won’t be
long.”
Lance ran up the steps. He rolled a joint, took several hits, then pinched it. He grabbed his clothes off hangers, stuffed his suitcase and grabbed his briefcase from under the bed. He took one last look around his old room, wanting to take the comic books and Teddy with him, but thought better of it. He quickly straightened the bedspread. The room looked just like it had when he first arrived.
He ran back downstairs and had almost made it to the front door when he suddenly stopped. The letters. They might hold more information. There’s no telling what all she wrote to Cousin Willadeen.
He eased across the floor of the bedroom, hoping Bonnie Sue didn’t come out of the bathroom. He quietly opened the middle drawer and scooped up the letters. Then he noticed a picture taped to the drawer, under the letters. He ripped the picture loose, closely looked at it and gasped. The shot was from a different angle, but it was the same man. He turned the picture over and read, Rob, the only man I ever thought I loved. The father of my son, Robbie.
Lance felt his stomach turn over as the picture dropped to the floor, so many thoughts running through his head. Grandpappy was his pappy and his foster mammy was his brother’s mammy! But where was his brother? He did some figuring in his head. His brother would have to be in his late fifties. But no man had ever visited Hampton House while he was there. Did ole Ruby’s own son hate her too? Was he happy when he was old enough to leave Hampton House?
He stuffed the letters in the side pocket of his suitcase, eased back across the floor, looking over his shoulder. He heard Bonnie Sue humming.
***
Bonnie Sue rushed into the living room. “Lance,” she yelled, looking around. She sniffed sweet smelling smoke. Lance should show a little respect and not smoke in Miss Hampton’s house. She walked across the floor and stuck her head around the kitchen door facing. “Lance!” She crossed the living room floor and stood at the bottom of the staircase. “Lance, are you up there?” She cocked her head and listened for sounds. “Nothing,” she mumbled.