Rainbow Gap

by Lee Lynch

  “I don’t care. Your momma needs to be dragged into the mid-twentieth darned century. She’s insulting to you.”

  “Makes me want to grow out my hair so the people who think I’m a man will mistake me for a long-haired draft dodger.”

  Berry said with a grin, “You turn peace activist and the president will change his mind about war quicker than poop through a goose.” She got up for colas and they took them outside to the porch before bed. Zefer followed.

  The oaks were leafed out and made soft swishing sounds in the rising wind. Jaudon was just able to discern a pair of ducks on the ground below the pond bench, bills tucked under their wings, sleeping. Berry’s arm was damp from humidity where she touched it.

  The moonlight shone on the tree house. “You think the full moon brought this mess? Momma carrying on, me fighting with you.”

  Berry lay a hand on Jaudon’s and squeezed, quietly laughing. “We’ll know if the coyotes start howling.”

  There were nothing but frogs and the vibrating growls of a gator on the pond. Zefer sniffed around, squatted, and rejoined them.

  They sat on the swing, holding hands, looking at the luminous clearing around the house.

  “Moonlight is different from any other light,” Berry whispered. “It’s got this dim ash-colored glow like the light comes up from inside the earth—from within, not without.”

  Jaudon put a finger to her lips. “There’s a truck stopped out on Eulalia Road.”

  *

  Zefer growled. Berry held on to her collar.

  Jaudon half stood and squinted toward the big pickup, a diesel. She strained for a sight of it like a scared rabbit on its hind legs. They heard it bump in and out of the ditch that lined Eulalia, then scrape through the ragged sow thistle, a new crop of pokeweed, scrub hickory, and spindly saplings before it stopped smack dab on Vicker property.

  Two doors closed almost without sound. A flashlight shone through the dense scrub. Whispered cussing accompanied the sounds of people tripping over old stumps and storm-felled tree limbs. Clouds covered the moon and moved on as the winds picked up. Berry remembered the weatherman saying a tropical storm might graze them.

  Jaudon’s joints were achy, her sinuses throbbed from the change in atmospheric pressure. She reached inside the house and grabbed the shotgun from its rack where Bat hung it for their protection. She handed Berry a leash to hook up Zefer.

  “Should I get Eddie Dill’s pistol?” asked Berry. Over the years they’d used it for target practice and kept it in working condition.

  In a hoarse whisper, Jaudon said, “The shotgun should do the trick.”

  She and Berry followed an eager Zefer along the porch and around to the back steps, heading toward the hammock that hid Gran’s trailer.

  “Who in the world?” Berry whispered, close behind Jaudon.

  “It better not be Allison coming out of hiding. If so, I’m running her off. She’s leading the cops directly to our land.”

  Berry spoke in a low voice. “But how did they find her?”

  “Same way they found her at the store. Somebody’s talking.”

  “I don’t even know where she went, Jaudon. If Eddie Dill was alive I’d blame him for tracking her down. If it’s her, let me talk before you do anything.” She intended to give Allison—or whoever—a piece of her mind. The nerve of the woman; Allison already agreed Berry had done her duty by letting her stay, and overstay, in Gran’s trailer. Berry’s sense of responsibility was complicated by the fact they were friends.

  They waited at the edge of the porch, shotgun extended. Moments later, Cullie strode out of the soggy woods, Allison hurrying behind, Kirby sniffing between them. Zefer whinnied and almost pulled Berry off the porch in her eagerness to reach her playmate Kirby. Cullie’s flashlight was off and they were watching their footing, not the porch. Allison glanced their way, cried out, and grabbed Cullie’s jacket. The first heavy drops of rain fell.

  “Are those our heroic Amazon warriors, champing at the bit to save us from the forces of evil?” Cullie called over the plummeting rain.

  The wind was strong enough to lift Allison’s hair across her face. A growl of thunder sounded. The lightning took its time to smite the sky some distance away.

  “Is that where you’ve been, Allison? Still at Cullie’s?”

  “No one knew. Her place is off the beaten track.”

  “And my little coconut was with us, but she wasn’t telling.”

  “Why are you here, Allison?” Jaudon challenged, standing her ground in the downfall.

  “The deputies, they’re down the street from Cullie’s. It’s pure luck we drove home a roundabout way and saw them. We have no place to go. We need some sleep and we’ll be gone.”

  Cullie stood to her full height. “I’m storing everything at my sister’s, suiting up my gallant steed Kirby, and driving Allison cross-country in my sister’s car. We need to go to Four Lakes to pick it up, but we’re too tired to start tonight.”

  “Didn’t you think the police might follow you here?”

  Cullie picked up the dog and held her close. Berry saw both Cullie and Allison were bedraggled and rattled.

  “There’s no way, Jaudo. We sat in the Dairy Queen parking lot eating Dilly Bars and watching out for them. Kirby won for eating the most Dilly Bars.”

  Jaudon saw that Allison’s slight, wet body was shaking despite the muggy heat. The rain was hot.

  “Easy, jujube,” said Cullie. “We’re going to be okay.”

  Berry couldn’t abide sending them away and looked at Jaudon.

  Jaudon couldn’t abide upsetting Berry.

  “Jujube? You call her jujube, like the candy?”

  “You’re jealous that you didn’t think to call Berry jujube first.”

  Berry tried to stay calm. “Cullie, is your truck well-hidden?”

  “I checked,” Allison said. “You can’t see it from the road.”

  “But you can see the tracks, you yo-yos.” The male voice was muffled by the dense growth of tall bushes and trees. “Put the gun down, young man.”

  At the sight of the two deputies, guns drawn, Jaudon froze.

  Cullie didn’t waste a minute. “These women haven’t done anything, officer. They were asking us to leave. We’ll be on our way.”

  Jaudon held on to the gun, loosely, and pointed at the ground, as if she was about to drop it. It wasn’t loaded. She had a plan for getting rid of these cops while Berry and their friends escaped.

  “We decide who broke the law. Put that gun down. Now,” commanded the cop. Both officers wore rain jackets and plastic hat protectors.

  She stopped planning and set the gun in front of her. Darn Allison and Cullie, didn’t they know what was going to happen? She at least wasn’t going to let the dog catchers take Kirby to the pound.

  Berry was annoyed at Allison. She had people at home to help her. Times like this she’d love to have a ma, a pa on her side. It must make a difference to be brave when you had family in reserve. What privilege did she think she was entitled to, dragging trouble to their doorstep?

  Gran’s light went on. “You all right out there, Berry? Jaudon? Come on in out of that storm.”

  Wind drove the rain toward them. The ground was dissolving to muddy sand beneath their feet. Zefer sat on a step, her ears bent, as if she was trying to keep the rain out.

  One of the deputies answered. “We’re with the sheriff’s office, ma’am. Please keep away from the windows and stay indoors.”

  Gran ignored him. “Berry? You there?”

  “Leave it go, Gran. Do what the deputy says.”

  “Come along, folks, nice and easy. We’ll take a ride to the office.”

  “Not us.” Berry set her hands on her hips. Gran needed protection, and she’d stand up for her if she had to use Eddie Dill’s pistol to do it. “We haven’t done a thing.”

  “We’ll talk about that at the station.”

  “You can’t arrest us for protecting our home. W
e didn’t know who was out here.”

  One of the big oaks creaked above them. Jaudon looked up at it, rain in her eyes. She’d all along meant to find the power saw and take the heavy limb down before a storm did it for her.

  “So you know these…” He looked Allison and Cullie up and down. They were drenched, Allison’s long skirt hanging slack, little waterfalls cascading from the brim of Cullie’s bowler. “Flower people? They may put up with trash in Tampa, but out here in the county? Nuh-uh.”

  “You’re saying I know them, not me.” Berry walked toward the house and shouted, “Gran, call a lawyer.”

  “Wait up. Cullie, give me Kirby.” Jaudon almost caught herself, but the words spilled out. She’d confirmed an association with the fugitives. “Gran can take care of her.” She stooped for the shotgun. “Can’t leave this out in the damp. My brother’s in ’Nam. He’d be mad.”

  “Leave the gun on the ground, mister.”

  She stood up, legs wide, fury pumping into her every vein. “Stop calling me mister and leave my property. I’m taking the gun and our dogs and going inside. Shoot me if you want.”

  Berry and Zefer started for Kirby. Wind blew raindrops like warm bullets, pelting them. The palm fronds whipped at the air, the giant oak branch ready to rend away from its trunk. Gran screamed bloody murder from the window and Jaudon snatched up the gun.

  In their distraction, visibility low, the deputies turned away from Allison and Cullie who dashed, carrying a dripping wet Kirby, to Jaudon’s van. Allison knew the key was always in it. They were squealing onto the gravel road before the cops stopped struggling with Berry and Jaudon.

  “Now we are taking you in,” said the tall deputy, “for resisting arrest, aiding in the escape of a federal fugitive, and threatening a law enforcement officer with a firearm.”

  “We never did. You going to arrest Gran too, for calling a lawyer?”

  He grabbed Jaudon by the upper arm and spun her toward the brick barbecue, handcuffs out, but he either didn’t know his own strength, or didn’t realize that Jaudon was less solid than she looked.

  “Hey, Shrimp.” The other deputy stepped between them. “She’s just a kid. Back off and stay out of trouble this time.”

  She tried to catch her balance, but the thrust was so strong, the mud so slippery, she lost her balance and fell hard, pushing the center of her ear into the corner of the barbecue. The rusted grate flipped up and landed on her exposed neck, leaving a gash.

  “Jaudon.” Berry hollered when Jaudon didn’t move. In horror, she covered her mouth with one hand, watching blood surface from the gash. She tried to go to Jaudon, but the other deputy pulled her toward the road.

  “I’m a nurse, leave me go. Her carotid artery might be cut.” Was this happening because she abandoned the church’s God for her own?

  Jaudon couldn’t tell what was going on. She had an instant, nauseating headache. The pain in her ear was quick, but monstrous. The tall deputy helped her stand and stay up. Berry’s hand touched her neck and came away bloody.

  “What’s the matter?” The short deputy smirked and pointed at the side of her head. “Cut yourself shaving, mister?”

  “Lay off, Shrimp,” said the other deputy.

  “Wait.” She turned away from her deputy to a clump of grayish-green cudweed and vomited onto the wooly leaves. She held her head. The pain was calming down, but was there was a bug in her ear, or a pebble? She was wet to the skin and shuddering.

  Berry yelled before they were put into the police car. “Call that lawyer, Gran.”

  Jaudon tried to shout, but her words came out feeble. “Don’t tell Momma!”

  She fell into the backseat on Berry. One of the deputies said, “We know the fugitive woman is a homosexual. From the looks of you”—he eyed Jaudon—“you are too. Is this your lady lover?”

  “Their kind should be cannon fodder over in ’Nam,” said the nasty partner.

  “True. We ought to send you to fight in the jungle instead of our decent boys.”

  Berry was frightened, worried about Jaudon, peeved at these lawmen, but at last she was able to lean on the Great Spirit, bathe in its calm, and smile encouragement at her battered Jaudon. “Your neck stopped its bleeding,” she told her. “It wasn’t as bad as I feared.”

  Jaudon knew Berry was praying for them. They might be on the way to the sheriff’s office in the path of a tropical storm, but that big tree limb was holding so far and Allison was for once—and she hoped like heck for all—rousted from Vicker land. They must be halfway to Cullie’s sister’s car, about to set out for the West Coast. She wished they’d take this ear pain with them.

  *

  It was a nightmare: They sat wet and cold in the air conditioned sheriff’s office. Jaudon had her arms folded on the table and her head down. A medic had come in and cleaned up her neck and ear, but it was all she could do not to scream with the ongoing pain. The deputies called in Momma and Gran and Pops.

  Momma blew her top first at the deputies, then at Jaudon, and, when Berry told her she was to blame for befriending Allison, at Berry and Gran. Gran got up in Momma’s face and told her off. If Jaudon had felt better, she would have cheered for Gran.

  They were there until three in the morning. Initially, they tried to claim they didn’t know anything or anyone involved, including Allison, but the shorter deputy reminded Jaudon that she knew their names.

  “What in the world were you girls thinking?” demanded Momma.

  “Now, Momma,” Pops said. “Watch your blood pressure.”

  “They weren’t thinking, Wayne and Jessamine,” said Gran. “They were doing a good deed. Friends ask one another to help out and these two are generous to a fault.”

  The lawyer was behind closed doors with the sheriff himself. Momma and Pops left the room.

  Every time Berry tried to speak, Gran took one hand and Jaudon the other, to silence her. Jaudon thought, The truth is not what we need just now.

  Allison, Berry once told Jaudon, said being caught helped expose what was going on. Jaudon answered that Berry was welcome to risk her career and reputation if she wanted, but more was at stake. The state of Florida could jail them for being together the way they were. Momma would never forgive her for sullying the family name and business. Pops’s heart might fail. Bat would come home to nothing. She’d be separated from Berry.

  A phalanx of noise came down the hallway.

  Jaudon saw Berry’s hands shaking and steeled herself to show no more weakness. “That sounds like those antiwar demonstrators we passed on the way in.”

  “I recognize the chants—Rigo planned to be there. He can’t have been arrested. He said his dad is volcanic when he’s mad.”

  The protesters passed. They heard new voices.

  “Is that Momma out in the hallway?” Jaudon stuck an index finger in her ear. “I can’t make out what they’re saying over this ringing.”

  “Shh.” Berry leaned forward, listening. “She’s arguing with the deputies. Telling them they’re picking on us because they can’t catch their bad girl.”

  Jaudon drummed her knees with the flats of her hands and swiped at her head to stop the buzzing. “They’re going to be sorry they messed with Momma.”

  “She is boilin’ mad. Your Pops is accusing them of beating on his baby girl.”

  Jaudon’s headache was reviving her nausea. The buzzing sound seemed louder. She clenched her eyes shut against the light. It was their own fault if she dirtied their room. She swallowed hard.

  Berry was looking at Jaudon’s eyes. “Angel? You look poorly.”

  They were locked in, but not handcuffed. Berry moved closer to Jaudon.

  “Keep away, Berry. You don’t want them thinking that about us.”

  “No, you stay idle. Your eyes are funny. How hard did you hit your head?”

  “My ear is what I hit.”

  “Isn’t your ear attached to your head, silly? The emergency guy said it bled outside and in. Look at that, Gra
n—the bandage is red again and he told us to keep it dry. I’m mad enough to tear someone’s head off.”

  Though her face was blurry to Jaudon, she watched Berry’s struggle to banish her exasperation: the closed eyes, the slow expansion and deflation of her chest.

  There were paper cups of water on the table. Berry and Gran used those along with Jaudon’s back pocket bandana to clean off crusted blood from her face and chest.

  “I don’t like the looks of this ear.”

  “Me neither, Gran. We need to carry Jaudon to a doctor.”

  “Aw, heck, you two, I’ll be fine.” The dizziness hit again and she laid her head down. She was being growly. It was the pain, she decided.

  Berry returned to reporting. “The lawyer’s in the hallway, trying to calm your momma down.”

  After a period of murmuring, the door opened. It was the lawyer. “How bad are you hurt, Miss Vicker?”

  Berry held up the bloody bandana. He looked at Jaudon.

  She turned her uninjured ear to him. “Say that again?”

  The lawyer yelled, the sound startling in the tiny room. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m queasy, to tell you the truth. There’s a buzzing in my ear that won’t quit and it hurts a mite.”

  “I’ll get you released to go to the emergency room as quick as I can. Sit tight.”

  Berry put her arms around Jaudon and held her.

  “I smell of barf,” Jaudon said.

  “Shh. Lean on me, angel.”

  As the attorney shut the door he raised his voice at the police. “Are you dingbats aware how badly my client is injured? She may have lost her hearing. Why didn’t you call an ambulance? You’d think they were out pitching fits in the streets like the last group you pulled in. They were on their own property, protecting it. I’m going to sue your whole dang posse. Didn’t you learn the error of your ways during the riots in ’67?”