Without hesitation, Miss Lolita smiled a big wide smile, looked up, and said, “Am I scared of dying? No! You see, Sonny, heaven is the ultimate reward for a life well lived. When a person believes very strongly in God, they know that passing on means graduating to a higher level. Though the body no longer exists, the spirit goes on for eternity in a place where all their loved ones have been lovingly waiting to reunite with them. It is the ultimate reward that the universe can offer. So, no, I will live my life until my number is called. And when it is, I will be ecstatic that my task on earth has been sufficiently completed. I will finally get to graduate!” She smiled a big smile.
I was speechless as I looked at this woman whose face showed the character of a life well lived, well used, well earned. I looked at Felicia, whose face showed the tracks of two sets of tears. As I observed them both, I felt my eyes tear up, too, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t try to hide my tears.
I felt honored to know Miss Lolita, the Wise One. For the first time in many months, I felt truly blessed to be alive. Hagerstown had been a wake-up call for me in so many ways. Maybe having a target on my back added to my appreciation of life and the future.
Felicia also was a blessing, like an angel from heaven, an unexpected surprise. I had been at the end of my rope in so many respects, and then she magically appeared right before my eyes. And it was the eyes that met mine that did the trick.
My real concern, though, was not fear for my life, but fear for the lives of the innocent people around me. There was Sergeant Pawler, who was only following the captain’s orders to protect me. He had his life on the line protecting my ass. There was Felicia, the angel from above, sent to save me from myself, but I knew that I couldn’t risk anyone else knowing about our interest in one another—not until Billy Blaine and anyone else involved were apprehended. The target on my back must not include others, especially not Felicia. I could never live with myself if something dangerous happened to her. After all, I had seen a couple of suspicious-looking cars following me. But when in fear, everything can look suspicious.
And Miss Lolita—there was no way I would allow any harm to come to her, certainly not because of anything that someone was blaming me for. I would rather quit my job at the newspaper and throw all my notes in the garbage than continue putting her at risk.
My cell phone had been vibrating repeatedly over the last few minutes, showing me three people trying to reach me. I made up my mind not to answer for anyone, not until I finished my Miss Lolita interview. I also wanted to pursue the Hagerstown murders angle of the story, because I knew that if I returned my boss’s calls from the Gazette, he very likely would shut my assignment down. In fact, I was sure that he had had his fill of me and my antics in Hagerstown already.
My buddies Fred and Graham wanted constant updates, but I realized that I needed to cut them off for the time being because if they knew of all the violence that had transpired thus far, they might be spooked and contact the Hagerstown authorities or Glavin. I was already walking on very thin ice. I once again pictured myself flipping hamburgers at Wendy’s, and flipping them on the floor. But then again I don’t think I’d fare well in that job either. I don’t take orders very well, or so I’ve been told.
“Hello there, Mary. Good to see you, too!”
“Thanks so much for bringing in Miss Lolita’s all-time favorite homemade ice cream!” Mary said to me with a smile. “Miss Lolita, would you like some now?” she asked.
“Thank you so much, Mary,” Miss Lolita said. “But wait about twenty minutes. We should be finishing up soon. I think I’ve reviewed all a hundred and ten years of my life. At least that’s what it feels like!” She laughed a hearty laugh. “This young whippersnapper must be writing a novel instead of a news story! Mr. Lou, you trying to write another War and Peace?” Miss Lolita laughed.
“No, actually, you have enough of a past that I could do a movie documentary,” I said brightly.
“Oh, my!” she responded.
“Okay, Miss Lolita, I’ll be back in a short while. Don’t you go anywhere on me!” Mary joked.
“Yeah, sure, like I’m going hang-gliding or something. Get a load of her, will you, Lou?”
“You probably have more energy than I do, Miss Lolita.”
“Well, you’re lucky I like you so much. I’m counting on you writing an award winning story there, Sonny.”
“Don’t you worry; it will be a gem. Just gotta make it back safely!” I looked into Felicia’s magnificent gray eyes.
“Mr. Louis, I keep reminding you to come close. Are you scared I have some disease? Now come closer so I can see the whites of those eyes.”
“You going to hypnotize me again, Miss Lolita? You know, I may fall madly in love with you if I get too close.”
“Fat chance, Sonny! You’d have to get in line behind all those old perverts that are staying at this home. It don’t matter how old a man gets, he’s still a horn dog ’til the day he drops. They’re all after me here!” She laughed hysterically.
“They are!” Felicia chimed in.
“They’re all horn dogs?” I asked.
“That too!” Felicia smiled.
“Bunch of perverts if you ask me!” Miss Lolita said again.
We spoke about Lolita’s childhood again, her mom and pop, the farm, the good times, and the early years of her marriage to D. K., who was a mechanic. We spoke about the town back then, the theater she frequented, and the movie stars of the day that she had idolized. We spoke about the very first cars she remembered, which needed to be crank-started and frequently broke down, stranding carloads of people. But she loved those peaceful days when you sipped fresh lemonade and sat on the family swing in the yard and listened to nature and the songbirds; days when women would bake fresh pies and cakes and make large meals for men who worked hard—men who could actually eat a side of beef for dinner.
She remembered days gone by when the girls would dance all evening long, innocently, and boys would not get fresh for fear of the likes of the girls’ fathers. As Miss Lolita stated, “Everyone had shotguns in those days, and not many people acted up.”
“That would make me behave!” I chimed in, and glanced at Felicia in time to see her blush.
“Yes,” Lolita said wistfully, her thoughts many years in the past. “Those were the golden days when the family, friends, and aunts and uncles would gather ’round the piano for hours just to sing the songs they loved.” she reminisced, with a faraway look on her face.
“Why, there were many a night that we went to bed with a couple of hearth-warmed bricks, just to keep us warm ’til we fell off to sleep. Then there were nasty, cold nights, some of them. And the summers we had to sometimes soak our sheets in water and wring them out and sleep on them damp, all just to keep somewhat cool in the boiling heat. No such contraption as air conditioners in those days, you know? Today’s society is a little too spoiled for my liking. But I’m an old lady with too much to say . . . .”
“No, you’re not!” I argued. “You are a real treasure. You are a valuable doorway to a past we all want so much to live in, but can’t. Through your eyes, we are able to experience, to see, to taste, and to yearn for the times you were so fortunate to have lived through. So don’t ever apologize for reminiscing about better days.”
After a slight pause, I changed the subject. “Miss Lolita, now I have to ask you a tough question: What would you like the world to remember you for? And give me a powerful quote I can use, please.”
“Okay, Sonny. Words to live by: God gave you a gift of eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds today. Have you used one to say thank you?”
“Awesome!” I said. “That’s a keeper!” I wrote the quote down on my crammed notepad. “And how would you like the world to remember you?”
“Someone over a hundred years ago asked Andrew Carnegie, the steel empire multimillionaire, how it was possible that so many of his employees became millionaires—forty-three, in fact—while working
for him. A reporter wanted to know what Andrew Carnegie’s secret was. Carnegie answered this way: ‘You develop millionaires the way you mine gold. You expect to move tons of dirt to find an ounce of gold. But when you go digging, you don’t go looking for the dirt; you go looking for the gold.’ So, Sonny, you can write this down: My whole life, I always went looking for the gold in every person, never the dirt, and everyone—I don’t care who they are—has some gold in them, though it may take patience and moving mountains of dirt to find it. You see, too many people pre-judge one another, jump to conclusions too quickly, and they give up on someone too soon.”
I was writing like a madman as fast as Miss Lolita was speaking. I’m the only one who can read my chicken scratch in the first place, and sometimes I need a few drinks just to figure it out. Well, also an Italian woman at the newspaper, Nancy—but only the two of us can read my handwriting. As fast as I was scribbling Miss Lolita’s words, this would be even harder than usual to decipher.
There was silence for a few seconds after I finished writing. I looked at Felicia who had an “I told you she was awesome!” look on her face. Miss Lolita just stared into my eyes, saying nothing. I studied her in return, because I knew I would never come across another person so deep, so insightful, and so worldly as Lolita, ever again. This was my once-in-a-lifetime moment with her, and I tried to etch it deep into my brain. I wanted to remember Miss Lolita, her messages of inspiration, and her awesome attitude forever.
Here was a woman unafraid to pass from this world and, as she had said, “graduate” to that better place, but only after she had more than earned her place in the hereafter. No one had ever explained it like that to me before. Life is not a right, but a blessing we should be thankful for. We should not squander our moments on earth. And, yes, we must earn our right to “graduate” to that better place above, where we just might have an eternity to review and relive every second of our lives over and over again. That was a scary thought if a life was selfishly misused.
Felicia looked at me with sadness in her eyes. I wondered if it was because she realized that Miss Lolita was ready to go to her Maker at any moment, and Felicia would lose her. Maybe Felicia had just recognized her own mortality, which can be an earthshaking experience. We are all young in our hearts. But here we were, staring at a very weathered person, reminding us that we, too, would become weathered and old-looking—nothing like we are in our prime.
The silence was deafening as I heard the humming of the overhead fluorescents, which sounded as loud as a Mack truck at that moment. My mind was working in overdrive, ruminating on the philosophy of an expert with 110 years to her credit.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Then it happened. All hell suddenly broke loose! The loudspeaker blurted out the dreaded announcement to staff doctors: “Code Blue! Code Blue in kitchen! All medical personnel, Code Blue, kitchen! Please report!”
Felicia looked at me and her face changed to a very serious expression as she blurted out, “I have to leave! Please stay with her!” She left abruptly.
Nothing like this had ever happened to me before, though I had heard about it and seen it on television. A Code Blue usually meant cardiac arrest. Granted, it was a nursing home of mostly elderly residents. Still, I had a very uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. You don’t expect to see anyone carried out on a stretcher when you are visiting a nursing home, simply trying to cheer up a lonely resident. And how about all the other people in the home hearing the Code Blue announcement? What was going through their minds?
I looked at Miss Lolita, who now had a sad look on her face. I was sure that she had lived through many times like this before. She looked at me and said, “They are very good in this home. The medical people are top-notch. Let me say a prayer.” She was silent in her prayer, as I watched her. I also asked God silently to help whoever needed help at that moment, knowing that it was all in His hands. All we can do is ask for the best for everyone.
There was silence. Then a black woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform rushed into the room and exclaimed, “It was Mary, the food care worker. Mary, in the kitchen.” She ran over to Miss Lolita as if she could help the situation somehow. “Mary’s heart stopped; she collapsed and cracked her head open. Miss Lolita . . . .”
“Clara!” Miss Lolita commanded the woman’s attention. “Mary is in the best hands possible. Please, now. The doctors are there, and they will do whatever they can. Please stay calm. Come, hold my hand,” she said, as she reached out in the direction of Clara’s voice.
Clara held her hand, saying, “It was so sudden-like in the kitchen.”
I looked back at the doorway and saw another woman dressed in green, no doubt an orderly. She, too, rushed into the large room. “Clara,” she screamed, “it was poison. They say they believe Mary was poisoned. There was a bowl of ice cream next to where she’d been standing. She was poisoned, Clara! She may be dead!”
“Poisoned? Ice cream? But how? Who would do such . . . ?” Miss Lolita said.
“Holy crap!” I shouted. “It was Billy Blaine. Somehow he got to the ice cream I brought here today!”
“You?” Clara demanded. “What ice cream?”
“You mean someone . . . ?” Miss Lolita asked.
“Yes, the same person tried to poison me last night with something called thallium,” I explained. “It is quite deadly, and it almost killed me, but I had such a diluted amount that I was able to recover.”
“Mr. Lou, they wanted to kill me?” Miss Lolita asked in shock, her mouth open.
I looked at her carefully. “I’m not sure, Miss Lolita. Maybe they wanted to kill many people. Mary must have been tasting the pistachio ice cream right before bringing you some. I hope she had very little, and maybe she will be okay. They won’t know for some time, though. It is a very potent poison and can kill fast. I pray she didn’t serve it to anyone else. I am so glad you didn’t have any!” I shook my head.
“But who could have . . . ?” Lolita snapped.
“Millie’s!” I remembered suddenly. “It must have happened at Millie’s. I had it stored in their freezer while the sarge and I ate lunch. Anyone could have . . . .”
Suddenly my heart dropped as if I had seen a ghost. There, standing right in the doorway of the large room, was Billy Blaine. He was sweaty and dirty, with long, stringy hair. He had a sadistic smile on his face and held a large steak knife in his right hand.
“Yeah, it was poison,” he said. “Thallium is a great way to kill somebody. By the time you realize you’ve been poisoned, it’s too late. Listen, hump-head, you should be dead. So I had to come back for you—you and the old bat.”
“Mr. Lou, what’s happening?” Miss Lolita spoke urgently into my ear.
“Please, Miss Lolita, don’t say anything, and stay calm,” I whispered back.
“Oh, so you’re going to protect her, now? The inquiring reporter. Good! I’ll kill her first then!” He smiled a wicked grin.
“Billy, why do you want to do that?” I asked calmly.
“Why, he asks!” He laughed loudly. “I only kill people who don’t know how to mind their own business. Your mouth is as big as your ass! Asshole!”
“But . . .” I tried to reason.
“But you’re going to die. Say your goodbyes. She’s as old as hell anyway. She’s probably happy, right, Momma?” He roared with laughter.
Then it dawned on me that the poison in the kitchen had been a diversion. Everyone had run to the emergency in the kitchen. This left Billy a few minutes undisturbed to rain his terror down on us. I would try to buy some time. Where was Sergeant Pawler? He must have gone to the kitchen when he heard that Mary was poisoned. She had been used in an attack just to get to me. I needed more time.
“Billy, you don’t want to do this.”
“Shut up, hard-on!” he screamed. “Don’t even think of screaming or trying anything, or I’ll kill some innocent people over here, just for fun. They’re old farts anyway.”
“Billy, thi
s isn’t you.” I hoped I could reason with him and talk him down from his rage.
“You piss me off. You just don’t die easy! I’ve got to get it over with.”
“You ain’t got any guts, Sonny!” Miss Lolita shouted. “No-balls Billy!” she screamed at him.
“You old bag of bones!” he screamed, and he raised the knife and ran for us. “Die!”
Suddenly the knife went straight up in the air and he grunted loudly.
I protected Miss Lolita with my body.
Billy suddenly folded backwards as his knees buckled. I stared at him while preparing to die. But he fell backwards fast and someone jumped on top of him. He screamed in pain as the knife fell out of his hand and his arm made a cracking sound.
Of all possible people—it was my buddy Graham! He was wrestling on top of Billy and pinning Billy’s arm way back behind his back.
“Son of a bitch!” I yelled, as I scrambled to the floor to grab the knife.
“Hit that son of a bitch a shot for me!” Miss Lolita shouted, shocking me with her words and making me smile at the same time, even as my hands shook uncontrollably.
“Kick his balls off!” she added.
Just then, Sergeant Pawler suddenly jumped on Billy with his cuffs, screaming, “You dirty piece of crap! I should kill you on the spot,” he shouted.
My heart was racing faster than I ever remembered it doing. I didn’t think anyone’s heart could beat that fast. Pawler read Billy his rights while I tried to slow my heart.
“You all right, buddy?” Graham asked as he hugged me hard.
“Oh, I’m fine. I think I pissed myself, but I’m fine!” I tried to smile.
I went over to Miss Lolita and said, “It’s all over, Miss Lolita. Everyone’s fine.”
“Hey, Sonny, I’m blind, not deaf! I know Billy no-balls is going to jail!”
“Miss Lolita, you really did piss him off with that comment.”
“Oh, my, did I?”
“He was lunging for you.”
Defying Death in Hagerstown Page 15